The Collected Works of Oscar Wilde: 250+ Titles in One Edition. Оскар Уайльд

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      MRS. CHEVELEY. Except the people!

      LADY MARKBY. Perhaps the people are a little jaded. I have often observed that the Season as it goes on produces a kind of softening of the brain. However, I think anything is better than high intellectual pressure. That is the most unbecoming thing there is. It makes the noses of the young girls so particularly large. And there is nothing so difficult to marry as a large nose; men don’t like them. Good-night, dear! [To LADY CHILTERN.] Good-night, Gertrude! [Goes out on LORD CAVERSHAM’S arm.]

      MRS. CHEVELEY. What a charming house you have, Lady Chiltern! I have spent a delightful evening. It has been so interesting getting to know your husband.

      LADY CHILTERN. Why did you wish to meet my husband, Mrs. Cheveley?

      MRS. CHEVELEY. Oh, I will tell you. I wanted to interest him in this Argentine Canal scheme, of which I dare say you have heard. And I found him most susceptible, — susceptible to reason, I mean. A rare thing in a man. I converted him in ten minutes. He is going to make a speech in the House tomorrow night in favour of the idea. We must go to the Ladies’ Gallery and hear him! It will be a great occasion!

      LADY CHILTERN. There must be some mistake. That scheme could never have my husband’s support.

      MRS. CHEVELEY. Oh, I assure you it’s all settled. I don’t regret my tedious journey from Vienna now. It has been a great success. But, of course, for the next twenty-four hours the whole thing is a dead secret.

      LADY CHILTERN. [Gently.] A secret? Between whom?

      MRS. CHEVELEY. [With a flash of amusement in her eyes.] Between your husband and myself.

      SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [Entering.] Your carriage is here, Mrs. Cheveley!

      MRS. CHEVELEY. Thanks! Good evening, Lady Chiltern! Good-night, Lord Goring! I am at Claridge’s. Don’t you think you might leave a card?

      LORD GORING. If you wish it, Mrs. Cheveley!

      MRS. CHEVELEY. Oh, don’t be so solemn about it, or I shall be obliged to leave a card on you. In England I suppose that would hardly be considered en règle. Abroad, we are more civilised. Will you see me down, Sir Robert? Now that we have both the same interests at heart we shall be great friends, I hope!

      [Sails out on SIR ROBERT CHILTERN’S arm. LADY CHILTERN goes to the top of the staircase and looks down at them as they descend. Her expression is troubled. After a little time she is joined by some of the guests, and passes with them into another reception-room.]

      MABEL CHILTERN. What a horrid woman!

      LORD GORING. You should go to bed, Miss Mabel.

      MABEL CHILTERN. Lord Goring!

      LORD GORING. My father told me to go to bed an hour ago. I don’t see why I shouldn’t give you the same advice. I always pass on good advice. It is the only thing to do with it. It is never of any use to oneself.

      MABEL CHILTERN. Lord Goring, you are always ordering me out of the room. I think it most courageous of you. Especially as I am not going to bed for hours. [Goes over to the sofa.] You can come and sit down if you like, and talk about anything in the world, except the Royal Academy, Mrs. Cheveley, or novels in Scotch dialect. They are not improving subjects. [Catches sight of something that is lying on the sofa half hidden by the cushion.] What is this? Some one has dropped a diamond brooch! Quite beautiful, isn’t it? [Shows it to him.] I wish it was mine, but Gertrude won’t let me wear anything but pearls, and I am thoroughly sick of pearls. They make one look so plain, so good and so intellectual. I wonder whom the brooch belongs to.

      LORD GORING. I wonder who dropped it.

      MABEL CHILTERN. It is a beautiful brooch.

      LORD GORING. It is a handsome bracelet.

      MABEL CHILTERN. It isn’t a bracelet. It’s a brooch.

      LORD GORING. It can be used as a bracelet. [Takes it from her, and, pulling out a green letter-case, puts the ornament carefully in it, and replaces the whole thing in his breast-pocket with the most perfect sang froid.]

      MABEL CHILTERN. What are you doing?

      LORD GORING. Miss Mabel, I am going to make a rather strange request to you.

      MABEL CHILTERN. [Eagerly.] Oh, pray do! I have been waiting for it all the evening.

      LORD GORING. [Is a little taken aback, but recovers himself.] Don’t mention to anybody that I have taken charge of this brooch. Should any one write and claim it, let me know at once.

      MABEL CHILTERN. That is a strange request.

      LORD GORING. Well, you see I gave this brooch to somebody once, years ago.

      MABEL CHILTERN. You did?

      LORD GORING. Yes.

      [LADY CHILTERN enters alone. The other guests have gone.]

      MABEL CHILTERN. Then I shall certainly bid you good-night. Good-night, Gertrude! [Exit.]

      LADY CHILTERN. Good-night, dear! [To LORD GORING.] You saw whom Lady Markby brought here tonight?

      LORD GORING. Yes. It was an unpleasant surprise. What did she come here for?

      LADY CHILTERN. Apparently to try and lure Robert to uphold some fraudulent scheme in which she is interested. The Argentine Canal, in fact.

      LORD GORING. She has mistaken her man, hasn’t she?

      LADY CHILTERN. She is incapable of understanding an upright nature like my husband’s!

      LORD GORING. Yes. I should fancy she came to grief if she tried to get Robert into her toils. It is extraordinary what astounding mistakes clever women make.

      LADY CHILTERN. I don’t call women of that kind clever. I call them stupid!

      LORD GORING. Same thing often. Good-night, Lady Chiltern!

      LADY CHILTERN. Good-night!

      [Enter SIR ROBERT CHILTERN.]

      SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. My dear Arthur, you are not going? Do stop a little!

      LORD GORING. Afraid I can’t, thanks. I have promised to look in at the Hartlocks’. I believe they have got a mauve Hungarian band that plays mauve Hungarian music. See you soon. Goodbye!

      [Exit]

      SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. How beautiful you look tonight, Gertrude!

      LADY CHILTERN. Robert, it is not true, is it? You are not going to lend your support to this Argentine speculation? You couldn’t!

      SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [Starting.] Who told you I intended to do so?

      LADY CHILTERN. That woman who has just gone out, Mrs. Cheveley, as she calls herself now. She seemed to taunt me with it. Robert, I know this woman. You don’t. We were at school together. She was untruthful, dishonest, an evil influence on every one whose trust or friendship she could win. I hated, I despised her. She stole things, she was a thief. СКАЧАТЬ