SECOND ACT
SCENE
Drawing-room in Lord Windermere’s
house. Door R.U. opening into ball-room, where
band is playing. Door L. through which guests
are entering. Door L.U. opens on to illuminated
terrace. Palms, flowers, and brilliant lights.
Room crowded with guests. Lady Windermere is
receiving them.
Duchess of Berwick.
[Up C.] So strange Lord Windermere isn’t here.
Mr. Hopper is very late, too. You have kept
those five dances for him, Agatha? [Comes down.]
Lady Agatha. Yes, mamma.
Duchess of Berwick.
[Sitting on sofa.] Just let me see your card.
I’m so glad Lady Windermere has revived cards.—They’re
a mother’s only safeguard. You dear simple
little thing! [Scratches out two names.] No nice
girl should ever waltz with such particularly younger
sons! It looks so fast! The last two dances
you might pass on the terrace with Mr. Hopper.
[Enter Mr. Dumby and lady
Plymdale from the ball-room.]
Lady Agatha. Yes, mamma.
Duchess of Berwick.
[Fanning herself.] The air is so pleasant there.
Parker. Mrs. Cowper-Cowper.
Lady Stutfield. Sir James Royston. Mr.
Guy Berkeley.
[These people enter as announced.]
Dumby. Good evening, Lady
Stutfield. I suppose this will be the last ball
of the season?
Lady Stutfield. I
suppose so, Mr. Dumby. It’s been a delightful
season, hasn’t it?
Dumby. Quite delightful!
Good evening, Duchess. I suppose this will
be the last ball of the season?
Duchess of Berwick.
I suppose so, Mr. Dumby. It has been a very
dull season, hasn’t it?
Dumby. Dreadfully dull! Dreadfully
dull!
Mr. Cowper-Cowper.
Good evening, Mr. Dumby. I suppose this will
be the last ball of the season?
Dumby. Oh, I think not.
There’ll probably be two more. [Wanders back
to lady Plymdale.]
Parker. Mr. Rufford.
Lady Jedburgh and Miss Graham. Mr. Hopper.
[These people enter as announced.]
Hopper. How do you do,
Lady Windermere? How do you do, Duchess? [Bows
to lady Agatha.]
Duchess of Berwick.
Dear Mr. Hopper, how nice of you to come so early.
We all know how you are run after in London.
Hopper. Capital place,
London! They are not nearly so exclusive in
London as they are in Sydney.
Duchess of Berwick.
Ah! we know your value, Mr. Hopper. We wish
there were more like you. It would make life
so much easier. Do you know, Mr. Hopper, dear
Agatha and I are so much interested in Australia.
It must be so pretty with all the dear little kangaroos
flying about. Agatha has found it on the map.
What a curious shape it is! Just like a large
packing case. However, it is a very young country,
isn’t it?
Hopper. Wasn’t it
made at the same time as the others, Duchess?
Duchess of Berwick.
How clever you are, Mr. Hopper. You have a
cleverness quite of your own. Now I mustn’t
keep you.
Hopper. But I should like
to dance with Lady Agatha, Duchess.
Duchess of Berwick.
Well, I hope she has a dance left. Have you
a dance left, Agatha?
Lady Agatha. Yes, mamma.
Duchess of Berwick. The next
one?
Lady Agatha. Yes, mamma.
Hopper. May I have the pleasure? [Lady
Agatha bows.]
Duchess of Berwick.
Mind you take great care of my little chatterbox,
Mr. Hopper.
[Lady Agatha and Mr. Hopper pass
into ball-room.]
[Enter lord Windermere.]
Lord Windermere. Margaret, I want
to speak to you.
Lady Windermere. In a moment. [The
music drops.]
Parker. Lord Augustus Lorton.
[Enter lord Augustus.]
Lord Augustus. Good evening, Lady
Windermere.
Duchess of Berwick.
Sir James, will you take me into the ball-room?
Augustus has been dining with us to-night. I
really have had quite enough of dear Augustus for
the moment.
[Sir James Royston
gives the Duchess his aim and escorts her into
the ball-room.]
Parker. Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Bowden.
Lord and Lady Paisley. Lord
Darlington.
[These people enter as announced.]
Lord Augustus. [Coming
up to lord Windermere.] Want to speak to
you particularly, dear boy. I’m worn to
a shadow. Know I don’t look it.
None of us men do look what we really are. Demmed
good thing, too. What I want to know is this.
Who is she? Where does she come from?
Why hasn’t she got any demmed relations?
Demmed nuisance, relations! But they make one
so demmed respectable.
Lord Windermere. You
are talking of Mrs. Erlynne, I suppose? I only
met her six months ago. Till then, I never knew
of her existence.
Lord Augustus. You have seen a good
deal of her since then.
Lord Windermere. [Coldly.]
Yes, I have seen a good deal of her since then.
I have just seen her.
Lord Augustus. Egad!
the women are very down on her. I have been
dining with Arabella this evening! By Jove! you
should have heard what she said about Mrs. Erlynne.
She didn’t leave a rag on her. . . [Aside.]
Berwick and I told her that didn’t matter much,
as the lady in question must have an extremely fine
figure. You should have seen Arabella’s
expression! . . . But, look here, dear boy.
I don’t know what to do about Mrs. Erlynne.
Egad! I might be married to her; she treats
me with such demmed indifference. She’s
deuced clever, too! She explains everything.
Egad! she explains you. She has got any amount
of explanations for you—and all of them
different.
Lord Windermere. No
explanations are necessary about my friendship with
Mrs. Erlynne.
Lord Augustus. Hem!
Well, look here, dear old fellow. Do you think
she will ever get into this demmed thing called Society?
Would you introduce her to your wife? No use
beating about the confounded bush. Would you
do that?
Lord Windermere. Mrs.
Erlynne is coming here to-night.
Lord Augustus. Your wife has sent
her a card?
Lord Windermere. Mrs. Erlynne has
received a card.
Lord Augustus. Then
she’s all right, dear boy. But why didn’t
you tell me that before? It would have saved
me a heap of worry and demmed misunderstandings!
[Lady Agatha and Mr.
Hopper cross and exit on terrace L.U.E.]
Parker. Mr. Cecil Graham!
[Enter Mr. Cecil Graham.]
Cecil Graham. [Bows to
lady Windermere, passes over and shakes
hands with lord Windermere.] Good evening,
Arthur. Why don’t you ask me how I am?
I like people to ask me how I am. It shows a
wide-spread interest in my health. Now, to-night
I am not at all well. Been dining with my people.
Wonder why it is one’s people are always so
tedious? My father would talk morality after
dinner. I told him he was old enough to know
better. But my experience is that as soon as
people are old enough to know better, they don’t
know anything at all. Hallo, Tuppy! Hear
you’re going to be married again; thought you
were tired of that game.
Lord Augustus. You’re
excessively trivial, my dear boy, excessively trivial!
Cecil Graham. By the
way, Tuppy, which is it? Have you been twice
married and once divorced, or twice divorced and once
married? I say you’ve been twice divorced
and once married. It seems so much more probable.
Lord Augustus. I have
a very bad memory. I really don’t remember
which. [Moves away R.]
Lady Plymdale. Lord
Windermere, I’ve something most particular to
ask you.
Lord Windermere. I
am afraid—if you will excuse me—I
must join my wife.
Lady Plymdale. Oh,
you mustn’t dream of such a thing. It’s
most dangerous nowadays for a husband to pay any attention
to his wife in public. It always makes people
think that he beats her when they’re alone.
The world has grown so suspicious of anything that
looks like a happy married life. But I’ll
tell you what it is at supper. [Moves towards door
of ball-room.]
Lord Windermere. [C.]
Margaret! I must speak to you.
Lady Windermere. Will
you hold my fan for me, Lord Darlington? Thanks.
Lord Windermere. [Crossing
to her.] Margaret, what you said before dinner was,
of course, impossible?
Lady Windermere. That
woman is not coming here to-night!
Lord Windermere. [R.C.]
Mrs. Erlynne is coming here, and if you in any way
annoy or wound her, you will bring shame and sorrow
on us both. Remember that! Ah, Margaret!
only trust me! A wife should trust her husband!
Lady Windermere. [C.]
London is full of women who trust their husbands.
One can always recognise them. They look so
thoroughly unhappy. I am not going to be one
of them. [Moves up.] Lord Darlington, will you give
me back my fan, please? Thanks. . . . A
useful thing a fan, isn’t it? . . . I want
a friend to-night, Lord Darlington: I didn’t
know I would want one so soon.
Lord Darlington. Lady
Windermere! I knew the time would come some
day; but why to-night?
Lord Windermere. I
will tell her. I must. It would be
terrible if there were any scene. Margaret .
. .
Parker. Mrs. Erlynne!
[Lord Windermere starts.
Mrs. Erlynne enters, very beautifully dressed
and very dignified. Lady Windermere
clutches at her fan, then lets it drop on the door.
She bows coldly to Mrs. Erlynne, who bows
to her sweetly in turn, and sails into the room.]
Lord Darlington. You
have dropped your fan, Lady Windermere. [Picks it
up and hands it to her.]
Mrs. Erlynne. [C.] How
do you do, again, Lord Windermere? How charming
your sweet wife looks! Quite a picture!
Lord Windermere. [In a
low voice.] It was terribly rash of you to come!
Mrs. Erlynne. [Smiling.]
The wisest thing I ever did in my life. And,
by the way, you must pay me a good deal of attention
this evening. I am afraid of the women.
You must introduce me to some of them. The
men I can always manage. How do you do, Lord
Augustus? You have quite neglected me lately.
I have not seen you since yesterday. I am afraid
you’re faithless. Every one told me so.
Lord Augustus. [R.] Now
really, Mrs. Erlynne, allow me to explain.
Mrs. Erlynne. [R.C.] No,
dear Lord Augustus, you can’t explain anything.
It is your chief charm.
Lord Augustus. Ah!
if you find charms in me, Mrs. Erlynne —
[They converse together. Lord
Windermere moves uneasily about the room watching
Mrs. Erlynne.]
Lord Darlington. [To lady
Windermere.] How pale you are!
Lady Windermere. Cowards are always
pale!
Lord Darlington. You look faint.
Come out on the terrace.
Lady Windermere. Yes. [To Parker.]
Parker, send my cloak out.
Mrs. Erlynne. [Crossing
to her.] Lady Windermere, how beautifully your terrace
is illuminated. Reminds me of Prince Doria’s
at Rome.
[Lady Windermere bows coldly,
and goes off with lord Darlington.]
Oh, how do you do, Mr. Graham?
Isn’t that your aunt, Lady Jedburgh?
I should so much like to know her.
Cecil Graham. [After a
moment’s hesitation and embarrassment.] Oh,
certainly, if you wish it. Aunt Caroline, allow
me to introduce Mrs. Erlynne.
Mrs. Erlynne. So pleased
to meet you, Lady Jedburgh. [Sits beside her on the
sofa.] Your nephew and I are great friends.
I am so much interested in his political career.
I think he’s sure to be a wonderful success.
He thinks like a Tory, and talks like a Radical,
and that’s so important nowadays. He’s
such a brilliant talker, too. But we all know
from whom he inherits that. Lord Allandale was
saying to me only yesterday, in the Park, that Mr.
Graham talks almost as well as his aunt.
Lady Jedburgh. [R.] Most
kind of you to say these charming things to me! [Mrs.
Erlynne smiles, and continues conversation.]
Dumby. [To Cecil Graham.]
Did you introduce Mrs. Erlynne to Lady Jedburgh?
Cecil Graham. Had
to, my dear fellow. Couldn’t help it!
That woman can make one do anything she wants.
How, I don’t know.
Dumby. Hope to goodness
she won’t speak to me! [Saunters towards lady
Plymdale.]
Mrs. Erlynne. [C.
To lady Jedburgh.] On Thursday? With
great pleasure. [Rises, and speaks to lord Windermere,
laughing.] What a bore it is to have to be civil
to these old dowagers! But they always insist
on it!
Lady Plymdale. [To Mr.
Dumby.] Who is that well-dressed woman talking
to Windermere?
Dumby. Haven’t got
the slightest idea! Looks like an edition de
luxe of a wicked French novel, meant specially for
the English market.
Mrs. Erlynne. So that
is poor Dumby with Lady Plymdale? I hear she
is frightfully jealous of him. He doesn’t
seem anxious to speak to me to-night. I suppose
he is afraid of her. Those straw-coloured women
have dreadful tempers. Do you know, I think I’ll
dance with you first, Windermere. [Lord Windermere
bits his lip and frowns.] It will make Lord Augustus
so jealous! Lord Augustus! [Lord Augustus
comes down.] Lord Windermere insists on my dancing
with him first, and, as it’s his own house, I
can’t well refuse. You know I would much
sooner dance with you.
Lord Augustus. [With a
low bow.] I wish I could think so, Mrs. Erlynne.
Mrs Erlynne. You know
it far too well. I can fancy a person dancing
through life with you and finding it charming.
Lord Augustus. [Placing
his hand on his white waistcoat.] Oh, thank you,
thank you. You are the most adorable of all ladies!
Mrs. Erlynne. What
a nice speech! So simple and so sincere!
Just the sort of speech I like. Well, you shall
hold my bouquet. [Goes towards ball-room on lord
Windermere’s arm.] Ah, Mr. Dumby, how
are you? I am so sorry I have been out the last
three times you have called. Come and lunch
on Friday.
Dumby. [With perfect nonchalance.] Delighted!
[Lady Plymdale glares with
indignation at Mr. Dumby. Lord
Augustus follows Mrs. Erlynne and lord
Windermere into the ball-room holding bouquet]
Lady Plymdale. [To Mr.
Dumby.] What an absolute brute you are!
I never can believe a word you say! Why did
you tell me you didn’t know her? What
do you mean by calling on her three times running?
You are not to go to lunch there; of course you understand
that?
Dumby. My dear Laura, I wouldn’t
dream of going!
Lady Plymdale. You haven’t told
me her name yet! Who is she?
Dumby. [Coughs slightly and smooths his hair.]
She’s a Mrs.
Erlynne.
Lady Plymdale. That woman!
Dumby. Yes; that is what every one calls
her.
Lady Plymdale. How
very interesting! How intensely interesting!
I really must have a good stare at her. [Goes to door
of ball-room and looks in.] I have heard the most
shocking things about her. They say she is ruining
poor Windermere. And Lady Windermere, who goes
in for being so proper, invites her! How extremely
amusing! It takes a thoroughly good woman to
do a thoroughly stupid thing. You are to lunch
there on Friday!
Dumby. Why?
Lady Plymdale. Because
I want you to take my husband with you. He has
been so attentive lately, that he has become a perfect
nuisance. Now, this woman is just the thing for
him. He’ll dance attendance upon her as
long as she lets him, and won’t bother me.
I assure you, women of that kind are most useful.
They form the basis of other people’s marriages.
Dumby. What a mystery you are!
Lady Plymdale. [Looking at him.] I wish
you were!
Dumby. I am—to
myself. I am the only person in the world I
should like to know thoroughly; but I don’t see
any chance of it just at present.
[They pass into the ball-room, and
lady Windermere and lord Darlington
enter from the terrace.]
Lady Windermere. Yes.
Her coming here is monstrous, unbearable. I
know now what you meant to-day at tea-time. Why
didn’t you tell me right out? You should
have!
Lord Darlington. I
couldn’t! A man can’t tell these
things about another man! But if I had known
he was going to make you ask her here to-night, I
think I would have told you. That insult, at
any rate, you would have been spared.
Lady Windermere. I
did not ask her. He insisted on her coming—
against my entreaties—against my commands.
Oh! the house is tainted for me! I feel that
every woman here sneers at me as she dances by with
my husband. What have I done to deserve this?
I gave him all my life. He took it—used
it—spoiled it! I am degraded in my
own eyes; and I lack courage—I am a coward!
Lord Darlington. If
I know you at all, I know that you can’t live
with a man who treats you like this! What sort
of life would you have with him? You would feel
that he was lying to you every moment of the day.
You would feel that the look in his eyes was false,
his voice false, his touch false, his passion false.
He would come to you when he was weary of others;
you would have to comfort him. He would come
to you when he was devoted to others; you would have
to charm him. You would have to be to him the
mask of his real life, the cloak to hide his secret.
Lady Windermere. You
are right—you are terribly right.
But where am I to turn? You said you would be
my friend, Lord Darlington.— Tell me, what
am I to do? Be my friend now.
Lord Darlington. Between
men and women there is no friendship possible.
There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship.
I love you —
Lady Windermere. No, no! [Rises.]
Lord Darlington. Yes,
I love you! You are more to me than anything
in the whole world. What does your husband give
you? Nothing. Whatever is in him he gives
to this wretched woman, whom he has thrust into your
society, into your home, to shame you before every
one. I offer you my life —
Lady Windermere. Lord Darlington!
Lord Darlington. My
life—my whole life. Take it, and do
with it what you will. . . . I love you—love
you as I have never loved any living thing.
From the moment I met you I loved you, loved you blindly,
adoringly, madly! You did not know it then—you
know it now! Leave this house to-night.
I won’t tell you that the world matters nothing,
or the world’s voice, or the voice of society.
They matter a great deal. They matter far too
much. But there are moments when one has to
choose between living one’s own life, fully,
entirely, completely—or dragging out some
false, shallow, degrading existence that the world
in its hypocrisy demands. You have that moment
now. Choose! Oh, my love, choose.
Lady Windermere. [Moving
slowly away from him, and looking at him with startled
eyes.] I have not the courage.
Lord Darlington. [Following
her.] Yes; you have the courage. There may be
six months of pain, of disgrace even, but when you
no longer bear his name, when you bear mine, all will
be well. Margaret, my love, my wife that shall
be some day—yes, my wife! You know
it! What are you now? This woman has the
place that belongs by right to you. Oh! go—go
out of this house, with head erect, with a smile upon
your lips, with courage in your eyes. All London
will know why you did it; and who will blame you?
No one. If they do, what matter? Wrong?
What is wrong? It’s wrong for a man to
abandon his wife for a shameless woman. It is
wrong for a wife to remain with a man who so dishonours
her. You said once you would make no compromise
with things. Make none now. Be brave!
Be yourself!
Lady Windermere. I
am afraid of being myself. Let me think!
Let me wait! My husband may return to me.
Lord Darlington. And
you would take him back! You are not what I
thought you were. You are just the same as every
other woman. You would stand anything rather
than face the censure of a world, whose praise you
would despise. In a week you will be driving
with this woman in the Park. She will be your
constant guest—your dearest friend.
You would endure anything rather than break with one
blow this monstrous tie. You are right.
You have no courage; none!
Lady Windermere. Ah,
give me time to think. I cannot answer you now.
Lord Darlington. It must be now or
not at all.
Lady Windermere. [Rising
from the sofa.] Then, not at all! [A pause.]
Lord Darlington. You break my heart!
Lady Windermere. Mine is already broken.
Lord Darlington. To-morrow
I leave England. This is the last time I shall
ever look on you. You will never see me again.
For one moment our lives met—our souls
touched. They must never meet or touch again.
Good-bye, Margaret. [Exit.]
Lady Windermere. How alone I am in
life! How terribly alone!
[The music stops. Enter the
Duchess of Berwick and lord Paisley
laughing and talking. Other guests come on from
ball-room.]
Duchess of Berwick.
Dear Margaret, I’ve just been having such a
delightful chat with Mrs. Erlynne. I am so sorry
for what I said to you this afternoon about her.
Of course, she must be all right if you invite
her. A most attractive woman, and has such sensible
views on life. Told me she entirely disapproved
of people marrying more than once, so I feel quite
safe about poor Augustus. Can’t imagine
why people speak against her. It’s those
horrid nieces of mine—the Saville girls—they’re
always talking scandal. Still, I should go to
Homburg, dear, I really should. She is just a
little too attractive. But where is Agatha?
Oh, there she is: [Lady Agatha and
Mr. Hopper enter from terrace L.U.E.] Mr.
Hopper, I am very, very angry with you. You
have taken Agatha out on the terrace, and she is so
delicate.
Hopper. Awfully sorry,
Duchess. We went out for a moment and then got
chatting together.
Duchess of Berwick.
[C.] Ah, about dear Australia, I suppose?
Hopper. Yes!
Duchess of Berwick. Agatha, darling!
Lady Agatha. Yes, mamma!
Duchess of Berwick. [Aside.] Did
Mr. Hopper definitely —
Lady Agatha. Yes, mamma.
Duchess of Berwick. And what
answer did you give him, dear child?
Lady Agatha. Yes, mamma.
Duchess of Berwick.
[Affectionately.] My dear one! You always
say the right thing. Mr. Hopper! James!
Agatha has told me everything. How cleverly
you have both kept your secret.
Hopper. You don’t mind my taking
Agatha off to Australia, then,
Duchess?
Duchess of Berwick.
[Indignantly.] To Australia? Oh, don’t
mention that dreadful vulgar place.
Hopper. But she said she’d like to
come with me.
Duchess of Berwick. [Severely.] Did
you say that, Agatha?
Lady Agatha. Yes, mamma.
Duchess of Berwick.
Agatha, you say the most silly things possible.
I think on the whole that Grosvenor Square would be
a more healthy place to reside in. There are
lots of vulgar people live in Grosvenor Square, but
at any rate there are no horrid kangaroos crawling
about. But we’ll talk about that to-morrow.
James, you can take Agatha down. You’ll
come to lunch, of course, James. At half-past
one, instead of two. The Duke will wish to say
a few words to you, I am sure.
Hopper. I should like to
have a chat with the Duke, Duchess. He has not
said a single word to me yet.
Duchess of Berwick.
I think you’ll find he will have a great deal
to say to you to-morrow. [Exit lady Agatha
with Mr. Hopper.] And now good-night, Margaret.
I’m afraid it’s the old, old story, dear.
Love—well, not love at first sight, but
love at the end of the season, which is so much more
satisfactory.
Lady Windermere. Good-night, Duchess.
[Exit the Duchess of Berwick on lord
PAISLEY’S arm.]
Lady Plymdale. My
dear Margaret, what a handsome woman your husband
has been dancing with! I should be quite jealous
if I were you! Is she a great friend of yours?
Lady Windermere. No!
Lady Plymdale. Really?
Good-night, dear. [Looks at Mr. Dumby and
exit.]
Dumby. Awful manners young Hopper has!
Cecil Graham. Ah!
Hopper is one of Nature’s gentlemen, the worst
type of gentleman I know.
Dumby. Sensible woman,
Lady Windermere. Lots of wives would have objected
to Mrs. Erlynne coming. But Lady Windermere has
that uncommon thing called common sense.
Cecil Graham. And
Windermere knows that nothing looks so like innocence
as an indiscretion.
Dumby. Yes; dear Windermere
is becoming almost modern. Never thought he
would. [Bows to lady Windermere and exit.]
Lady Jedburgh. Good
night, Lady Windermere. What a fascinating woman
Mrs. Erlynne is! She is coming to lunch on Thursday,
won’t you come too? I expect the Bishop
and dear Lady Merton.
Lady Windermere. I
am afraid I am engaged, Lady Jedburgh.
Lady Jedburgh. So
sorry. Come, dear. [Exeunt lady Jedburgh
and miss Graham.]
[Enter Mrs. Erlynne and lord Windermere.]
Mrs. Erlynne. Charming
ball it has been! Quite reminds me of old days.
[Sits on sofa.] And I see that there are just as
many fools in society as there used to be. So
pleased to find that nothing has altered! Except
Margaret. She’s grown quite pretty.
The last time I saw her—twenty years ago,
she was a fright in flannel. Positive fright,
I assure you. The dear Duchess! and that sweet
Lady Agatha! Just the type of girl I like!
Well, really, Windermere, if I am to be the Duchess’s
sister-in-law
Lord Windermere. [Sitting L. of her.]
But are you—?
[Exit Mr. Cecil Graham
with rest of guests. Lady Windermere
watches, with a look of scorn and pain, Mrs. Erlynne
and her husband. They are unconscious of her
presence.]
Mrs. Erlynne. Oh,
yes! He’s to call to-morrow at twelve o’clock!
He wanted to propose to-night. In fact he did.
He kept on proposing. Poor Augustus, you know
how he repeats himself. Such a bad habit!
But I told him I wouldn’t give him an answer
till to-morrow. Of course I am going to take
him. And I dare say I’ll make him an admirable
wife, as wives go. And there is a great deal
of good in Lord Augustus. Fortunately it is all
on the surface. Just where good qualities should
be. Of course you must help me in this matter.
Lord Windermere. I
am not called on to encourage Lord Augustus, I suppose?
Mrs. Erlynne. Oh,
no! I do the encouraging. But you will
make me a handsome settlement, Windermere, won’t
you?
Lord Windermere. [Frowning.]
Is that what you want to talk to me about to-night?
Mrs Erlynne. Yes.
Lord Windermere. [With
a gesture of impatience.] I will not talk of it here.
Mrs. Erlynne. [Laughing.]
Then we will talk of it on the terrace. Even
business should have a picturesque background.
Should it not, Windermere? With a proper background
women can do anything.
Lord Windermere. Won’t to-morrow
do as well?
Mrs. Erlynne. No;
you see, to-morrow I am going to accept him.
And I think it would be a good thing if I was able
to tell him that I had—well, what shall
I say?—2000 pounds a year left to me by
a third cousin—or a second husband—or
some distant relative of that kind. It would
be an additional attraction, wouldn’t it?
You have a delightful opportunity now of paying me
a compliment, Windermere. But you are not very
clever at paying compliments. I am afraid Margaret
doesn’t encourage you in that excellent habit.
It’s a great mistake on her part. When
men give up saying what is charming, they give up
thinking what is charming. But seriously, what
do you say to 2000 pounds? 2500 pounds, I think.
In modern life margin is everything. Windermere,
don’t you think the world an intensely amusing
place? I do!
[Exit on terrace with lord Windermere.
Music strikes up in ball-room.]
Lady Windermere. To
stay in this house any longer is impossible.
To-night a man who loves me offered me his whole life.
I refused it. It was foolish of me. I
will offer him mine now. I will give him mine.
I will go to him! [Puts on cloak and goes to the
door, then turns back. Sits down at table and
writes a letter, puts it into an envelope, and leaves
it on table.] Arthur has never understood me.
When he reads this, he will. He may do as he
chooses now with his life. I have done with mine
as I think best, as I think right. It is he
who has broken the bond of marriage— not
I. I only break its bondage.
[Exit.]
[Parker enters L. and crosses
towards the ball-room R. Enter Mrs. Erlynne.]
Mrs. Erlynne. Is Lady Windermere in
the ball-room?
Parker. Her ladyship has just gone out.
Mrs. Erlynne. Gone out? She’s
not on the terrace?
Parker. No, madam. Her ladyship has
just gone out of the house.
Mrs. Erlynne. [Starts,
and looks at the servant with a puzzled expression
in her face.] Out of the house?
Parker. Yes, madam—her
ladyship told me she had left a letter for his lordship
on the table.
Mrs. Erlynne. A letter for Lord Windermere?
Parker. Yes, madam.
Mrs. Erlynne. Thank you.
[Exit Parker. The music
in the ball-room stops.] Gone out of her house!
A letter addressed to her husband! [Goes over to
bureau and looks at letter. Takes it up and
lays it down again with a shudder of fear.] No, no!
It would be impossible! Life doesn’t
repeat its tragedies like that! Oh, why does
this horrible fancy come across me? Why do I
remember now the one moment of my life I most wish
to forget? Does life repeat its tragedies? [Tears
letter open and reads it, then sinks down into a chair
with a gesture of anguish.] Oh, how terrible!
The same words that twenty years ago I wrote to her
father! and how bitterly I have been punished for
it! No; my punishment, my real punishment is
to-night, is now! [Still seated R.]
[Enter lord Windermere L.U.E.]
Lord Windermere. Have you said good-night
to my wife? [Comes C.]
Mrs. Erlynne. [Crushing letter in her hand.]
Yes.
Lord Windermere. Where is she?
Mrs. Erlynne. She
is very tired. She has gone to bed. She
said she had a headache.
Lord Windermere. I must go to her.
You’ll excuse me?
Mrs. Erlynne. [Rising hurriedly.]
Oh, no! It’s nothing serious. She’s
only very tired, that is all. Besides, there
are people still in the supper-room. She wants
you to make her apologies to them. She said
she didn’t wish to be disturbed. [Drops letter.]
She asked me to tell you!
Lord Windermere. [Picks up letter.] You
have dropped something.
Mrs. Erlynne. Oh yes,
thank you, that is mine. [Puts out her hand to take
it.]
Lord Windermere. [Still
looking at letter.] But it’s my wife’s
handwriting, isn’t it?
Mrs. Erlynne. [Takes the
letter quickly.] Yes, it’s—an address.
Will you ask them to call my carriage, please?
Lord Windermere. Certainly.
[Goes L. and Exit.]
Mrs. Erlynne. Thanks!
What can I do? What can I do? I feel a
passion awakening within me that I never felt before.
What can it mean? The daughter must not be
like the mother—that would be terrible.
How can I save her? How can I save my child?
A moment may ruin a life. Who knows that better
than I? Windermere must be got out of the house;
that is absolutely necessary. [Goes L.] But how
shall I do it? It must be done somehow.
Ah!
[Enter lord Augustus R.U.E. carrying bouquet.]
Lord Augustus. Dear
lady, I am in such suspense! May I not have
an answer to my request?
Mrs. Erlynne. Lord
Augustus, listen to me. You are to take Lord
Windermere down to your club at once, and keep him
there as long as possible. You understand?
Lord Augustus. But
you said you wished me to keep early hours!
Mrs. Erlynne. [Nervously.]
Do what I tell you. Do what I tell you.
Lord Augustus. And my reward?
Mrs. Erlynne. Your
reward? Your reward? Oh! ask me that to-morrow.
But don’t let Windermere out of your sight to-night.
If you do I will never forgive you. I will
never speak to you again. I’ll have nothing
to do with you. Remember you are to keep Windermere
at your club, and don’t let him come back to-night.
[Exit L.]
Lord Augustus. Well, really, I might
be her husband already.
Positively I might. [Follows her in a bewildered
manner.]
Act drop.