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

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СКАЧАТЬ GORING. With you? No. Your transaction with Robert Chiltern may pass as a loathsome commercial transaction of a loathsome commercial age; but you seem to have forgotten that you came here tonight to talk of love, you whose lips desecrated the word love, you to whom the thing is a book closely sealed, went this afternoon to the house of one of the most noble and gentle women in the world to degrade her husband in her eyes, to try and kill her love for him, to put poison in her heart, and bitterness in her life, to break her idol, and, it may be, spoil her soul. That I cannot forgive you. That was horrible. For that there can be no forgiveness.

      MRS. CHEVELEY. Arthur, you are unjust to me. Believe me, you are quite unjust to me. I didn’t go to taunt Gertrude at all. I had no idea of doing anything of the kind when I entered. I called with Lady Markby simply to ask whether an ornament, a jewel, that I lost somewhere last night, had been found at the Chilterns’. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Lady Markby. She will tell you it is true. The scene that occurred happened after Lady Markby had left, and was really forced on me by Gertrude’s rudeness and sneers. I called, oh! — a little out of malice if you like — but really to ask if a diamond brooch of mine had been found. That was the origin of the whole thing.

      LORD GORING. A diamond snake-brooch with a ruby?

      MRS. CHEVELEY. Yes. How do you know?

      LORD GORING. Because it is found. In point of fact, I found it myself, and stupidly forgot to tell the butler anything about it as I was leaving. [Goes over to the writing-table and pulls out the drawers.] It is in this drawer. No, that one. This is the brooch, isn’t it? [Holds up the brooch.]

      MRS. CHEVELEY. Yes. I am so glad to get it back. It was . . a present.

      LORD GORING. Won’t you wear it?

      MRS. CHEVELEY. Certainly, if you pin it in. [LORD GORING suddenly clasps it on her arm.] Why do you put it on as a bracelet? I never knew it could he worn as a bracelet.

      LORD GORING. Really?

      MRS. CHEVELEY. [Holding out her handsome arm.] No; but it looks very well on me as a bracelet, doesn’t it?

      LORD GORING. Yes; much better than when I saw it last.

      MRS. CHEVELEY. When did you see it last?

      LORD GORING. [Calmly.] Oh, ten years ago, on Lady Berkshire, from whom you stole it.

      MRS. CHEVELEY. [Starting.] What do you mean?

      LORD GORING. I mean that you stole that ornament from my cousin, Mary Berkshire, to whom I gave it when she was married. Suspicion fell on a wretched servant, who was sent away in disgrace. I recognised it last night. I determined to say nothing about it till I had found the thief. I have found the thief now, and I have heard her own confession.

      MRS. CHEVELEY. [Tossing her head.] It is not true.

      LORD GORING. You know it is true. Why, thief is written across your face at this moment.

      MRS. CHEVELEY. I will deny the whole affair from beginning to end. I will say that I have never seen this wretched thing, that it was never in my possession.

      [MRS. CHEVELEY tries to get the bracelet off her arm, but fails. LORD GORING looks on amused. Her thin fingers tear at the jewel to no purpose. A curse breaks from her.]

      LORD GORING. The drawback of stealing a thing, Mrs. Cheveley, is that one never knows how wonderful the thing that one steals is. You can’t get that bracelet off, unless you know where the spring is. And I see you don’t know where the spring is. It is rather difficult to find.

      MRS. CHEVELEY. You brute! You coward! [She tries again to unclasp the bracelet, but fails.]

      LORD GORING. Oh! don’t use big words. They mean so little.

      MRS. CHEVELEY. [Again tears at the bracelet in a paroxysm of rage, with inarticulate sounds. Then stops, and looks at LORD GORING.] What are you going to do?

      LORD GORING. I am going to ring for my servant. He is an admirable servant. Always comes in the moment one rings for him. When he comes I will tell him to fetch the police.

      MRS. CHEVELEY. [Trembling.] The police? What for?

      LORD GORING. Tomorrow the Berkshires will prosecute you. That is what the police are for.

      MRS. CHEVELEY. [Is now in an agony of physical terror. Her face is distorted. Her mouth awry. A mask has fallen from her. She it, for the moment, dreadful to look at.] Don’t do that. I will do anything you want. Anything in the world you want.

      LORD GORING. Give me Robert Chiltern’s letter.

      MRS. CHEVELEY. Stop! Stop! Let me have time to think.

      LORD GORING. Give me Robert Chiltern’s letter.

      MRS. CHEVELEY. I have not got it with me. I will give it to you tomorrow.

      LORD GORING. You know you are lying. Give it to me at once. [MRS. CHEVELEY pulls the letter out, and hands it to him. She is horribly pale.] This is it?

      MRS. CHEVELEY. [In a hoarse voice.] Yes.

      LORD GORING. [Takes the letter, examines it, sighs, and burns it with the lamp.] For so well-dressed a woman, Mrs. Cheveley, you have moments of admirable common sense. I congratulate you.

      MRS. CHEVELEY. [Catches sight of LADY CHILTERN’S letter, the cover of which is just showing from under the blotting-book.] Please get me a glass of water.

      LORD GORING. Certainly. [Goes to the corner of the room and pours out a glass of water. While his back is turned MRS. CHEVELEY steals LADY CHILTERN’S letter. When LORD GORING returns the glass she refuses it with a gesture.]

      MRS. CHEVELEY. Thank you. Will you help me on with my cloak?

      LORD GORING. With pleasure. [Puts her cloak on.]

      MRS. CHEVELEY. Thanks. I am never going to try to harm Robert Chiltern again.

      LORD GORING. Fortunately you have not the chance, Mrs. Cheveley.

      MRS. CHEVELEY. Well, if even I had the chance, I wouldn’t. On the contrary, I am going to render him a great service.

      LORD GORING. I am charmed to hear it. It is a reformation.

      MRS. CHEVELEY. Yes. I can’t bear so upright a gentleman, so honourable an English gentleman, being so shamefully deceived, and so —

      LORD GORING. Well?

      MRS. CHEVELEY. I find that somehow Gertrude Chiltern’s dying speech and confession has strayed into my pocket.

      LORD GORING. What do you mean?

      MRS. CHEVELEY. [With a bitter note of triumph in her voice.] I mean that I am going to send Robert Chiltern the love-letter his wife wrote to you tonight.

      LORD GORING. Love-letter?

      MRS. CHEVELEY. [Laughing.] ‘I want you. I trust you. I am coming to you. Gertrude.’

      [LORD GORING rushes to the bureau and takes up the envelope, finds is empty, and turns round.]

      LORD СКАЧАТЬ