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LORD GORING. Certainly I do.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. As you choose. When I called on you yesterday evening I found Mrs. Cheveley concealed in your rooms. It was between ten and eleven o'clock at night. I do not wish to say anything more.
Your relations with Mrs. Cheveley have, as I said to you last night, nothing whatsoever to do with me. I know you were engaged to be married to her once. The fascination she exercised over you then seems to have returned. You spoke to me last night of her as of a woman pure and stainless, a woman whom you respected and honoured. That may be so. But I cannot give my sister's life into your hands. It would be wrong of me.
It would be unjust, infamously unjust to her.
LORD GORING. I have nothing more to say.
LADY CHILTERN. Robert, it was not Mrs. Cheveley whom Lord Goring expected last night.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Not Mrs. Cheveley! Who was it then?
LORD GORING. Lady Chiltern!
LADY CHILTERN. It was your own wife. Robert, yesterday afternoon Lord Goring told me that if ever I was in trouble I could come to him for help, as he was our oldest and best friend. Later on, after that terrible scene in this room, I wrote to him telling him that I trusted him, that I had need of him, that I was coming to him for help and advice. [SIR ROBERT CHILTERN _takes the letter out of his pocket_.]
Yes, that letter. I didn't go to Lord Goring's, after all. I felt that it is from ourselves alone that help can come. Pride made me think that.
Mrs. Cheveley went. She stole my letter and sent it anonymously to you this morning, that you should think ... Oh! Robert, I cannot tell you what she wished you to think... .
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. What! Had I fallen so low in your eyes that you thought that even for a moment I could have doubted your goodness?
Gertrude, Gertrude, you are to me the white image of all good things, and sin can never touch you. Arthur, you can go to Mabel, and you have my best wishes! Oh! stop a moment. There is no name at the beginning of this letter. The brilliant Mrs. Cheveley does not seem to have noticed that. There should be a name.
LADY CHILTERN. Let me write yours. It is you I trust and need. You and none else.
LORD GORING. Well, really, Lady Chiltern, I think I should have back my own letter.
LADY CHILTERN. [_Smiling_.] No; you shall have Mabel. [_Takes the letter and writes her husband's name on it_.]
LORD GORING. Well, I hope she hasn't changed her mind. It's nearly twenty minutes since I saw her last.
[_Enter_ MABEL CHILTERN _and_ LORD CAVERSHAM.]
MABEL CHILTERN. Lord Goring, I think your father's conversation much more improving than yours. I am only going to talk to Lord Caversham in the future, and always under the usual palm tree.
LORD GORING. Darling! [_Kisses her_.]
LORD CAVERSHAM. [_Considerably taken aback_.] What does this mean, sir?
You don't mean to say that this charming, clever young lady has been so foolish as to accept you?
LORD GORING. Certainly, father! And Chiltern's been wise enough to accept the seat in the Cabinet.
LORD CAVERSHAM. I am very glad to hear that, Chiltern ... I congratulate you, sir. If the country doesn't go to the dogs or the Radicals, we shall have you Prime Minister, some day.
MASON. Luncheon is on the table, my Lady!
[MASON _goes out_.]
MABEL CHILTERN. You'll stop to luncheon, Lord Caversham, won't you?
LORD CAVERSHAM. With pleasure, and I'll drive you down to Downing Street afterwards, Chiltern. You have a great future before you, a great future. Wish I could say the same for you, sir. [_To_ LORD GORING.]
But your career will have to be entirely domestic.
LORD GORING. Yes, father, I prefer it domestic.
LORD CAVERSHAM. And if you don't make this young lady an ideal husband, I'll cut you off with a shilling.
MABEL CHILTERN. An ideal husband! Oh, I don't think I should like that.
It sounds like something in the next world.
LORD CAVERSHAM. What do you want him to be then, dear?
MABEL CHILTERN. He can be what he chooses. All I want is to be ... to be ... oh! a real wife to him.
LORD CAVERSHAM. Upon my word, there is a good deal of common sense in that, Lady Chiltern.
[_They all go out except_ SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. _He sinks in a chair_, _wrapt in thought_. _After a little time_ LADY CHILTERN _returns to look for him_.]
LADY CHILTERN. [_Leaning over the back of the chair_.] Aren't you coming in, Robert?
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [_Taking her hand_.] Gertrude, is it love you feel for me, or is it pity merely?
LADY CHILTERN. [_Kisses him_.] It is love, Robert. Love, and only love. For both of us a new life is beginning.