An Ideal Husband - The Original Classic Edition. Wilde Oscar

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       mrs. cheveley. Yes. She has just reminded me that we were at school together. I remember it perfectly now. She always got the good conduct prize. I have a distinct recollection of Lady Chiltern always getting the good conduct prize!

       sir robert chiltern. [Smiling.] And what prizes did you get, Mrs. Cheveley?

       mrs. cheveley. My prizes came a little later on in life. I don't think any of them were for good conduct. I forget!

       sir robert chiltern. I am sure they were for something charming!

       mrs. cheveley. I don't know that women are always rewarded for being charming. I think they are usually punished for it! Certainly, more women grow old nowadays through the faithfulness of their admirers than through anything else! At least that is the only way I can account for the terribly haggard look of most of your pretty women in London!

       sir robert chiltern. What an appalling philosophy that sounds! To attempt to classify you, Mrs. Cheveley, would be an impertinence. But may I ask, at heart, are you an optimist or a pessimist? Those seem to be the only two fashionable religions left to us nowadays.

       mrs. cheveley. Oh, I'm neither. Optimism begins in a broad grin, and Pessimism ends with blue spectacles. Besides, they are both of them merely poses.

       sir robert chiltern. You prefer to be natural?

       mrs. cheveley. Sometimes. But it is such a very difficult pose to keep up.

       sir robert chiltern. What would those modern psychological novelists, of whom we hear so much, say to such a theory as that?

       mrs. cheveley. Ah! the strength of women comes from the fact that psychology cannot explain us. Men can be analysed, women . . . merely adored.

       sir robert chiltern. You think science cannot grapple with the problem of women?

       mrs. cheveley. Science can never grapple with the irrational. That is why it has no future before it, in this world. sir robert chiltern. And women represent the irrational.

       mrs. cheveley. Well-dressed women do.

       sir robert chiltern. [With a polite bow.] I fear I could hardly agree with you there. But do sit down. And now tell me, what makes you leave your brilliant Vienna for our gloomy London--or perhaps the question is indiscreet?

       mrs. cheveley. Questions are never indiscreet. Answers sometimes are.

       sir robert chiltern. Well, at any rate, may I know if it is politics or pleasure?

       mrs. cheveley. Politics are my only pleasure. You see nowadays it is not fashionable to flirt till one is forty, or to be romantic till

       one is forty-five, so we poor women who are under thirty, or say we are, have nothing open to us but politics or philanthropy. And philanthropy seems to me to have become simply the refuge of people who wish to annoy their fellow-creatures. I prefer politics. I think they are more . . . becoming!

       sir robert chiltern. A political life is a noble career!

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       mrs. cheveley. Sometimes. And sometimes it is a clever game, Sir Robert. And sometimes it is a great nuisance.

       sir robert chiltern. Which do you find it?

       mrs. cheveley. I? A combination of all three. [Drops her fan.]

       sir robert chiltern. [Picks up fan.] Allow me!

       mrs. cheveley. Thanks.

       sir robert chiltern. But you have not told me yet what makes you honour London so suddenly. Our season is almost over.

       mrs. cheveley. Oh! I don't care about the London season! It is too matrimonial. People are either hunting for husbands, or hiding from them. I wanted to meet you. It is quite true. You know what a woman's curiosity is. Almost as great as a man's! I wanted immensely to meet you, and . . . to ask you to do something for me.

       sir robert chiltern. I hope it is not a little thing, Mrs. Cheveley. I find that little things are so very difficult to do. mrs. cheveley. [After a moment's reflection.] No, I don't think it is quite a little thing.

       sir robert chiltern. I am so glad. Do tell me what it is.

       mrs. cheveley. Later on. [Rises.] And now may I walk through your beautiful house? I hear your pictures are charming. Poor Baron

       Arnheim--you remember the Baron?--used to tell me you had some wonderful Corots.

       sir robert chiltern. [With an almost imperceptible start.] Did you know Baron Arnheim well?

       mrs. cheveley. [Smiling.] Intimately. Did you?

       sir robert chiltern. At one time.

       mrs. cheveley. Wonderful man, wasn't he?

       sir robert chiltern. [After a pause.] He was very remarkable, in many ways.

       mrs. cheveley. I often think it such a pity he never wrote his memoirs. They would have been most interesting. sir robert chiltern. Yes: he knew men and cities well, like the old Greek.

       mrs. cheveley. Without the dreadful disadvantage of having a Penelope waiting at home for him. mason. Lord Goring.

       [Enter lord goring. Thirty-four, but always says he is younger. A well-bred, expressionless face. He is clever, but would not like to be thought so. A flawless dandy, he would be annoyed if he were considered romantic. He plays with life, and is on perfectly good terms with the world. He is fond of being misunderstood. It gives him a post of vantage.]

       sir robert chiltern. Good evening, my dear Arthur! Mrs. Cheveley, allow me to introduce to you Lord Goring, the idlest man in

       London.

       mrs. cheveley. I have met Lord Goring before.

       lord goring. [Bowing.] I did not think you would remember me, Mrs. Cheveley.

       mrs. cheveley. My memory is under admirable control. And are you still a bachelor?

       lord goring. I . . . believe so.

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       mrs. cheveley. How very romantic!

       lord goring. Oh! I am not at all romantic. I am not old enough. I leave romance to my seniors. sir robert chiltern. Lord Goring is the result of Boodle's Club, Mrs. Cheveley.

       mrs. cheveley. He reflects every credit on the institution.

       lord goring. May I ask are you staying in London long?

       mrs. cheveley. That depends partly on the weather, partly on the cooking, and partly on Sir Robert. sir robert chiltern. You are not going to plunge us into a European war, I hope?

       mrs. cheveley. There is no danger, at present!

       [She nods to lord goring, with a look of amusement in her eyes, and goes out with sir robert chiltern. lord goring saunters over to mabel chiltern.]

       mabel chiltern. You are very late! lord goring. Have you missed me? mabel chiltern. Awfully!

       lord goring. Then СКАЧАТЬ