kept it would have been the first stain on a career that has been stainless always. Robert must be above reproach. He is not like other men. He cannot afford to do what other men do. [She looks at LORD GORING, who remains silent.] Donât you agree with me? You are Robertâs greatest friend. You are our greatest friend, LORD GORING. No one, except myself, knows Robert better than you do. He has no secrets from me, and I donât think he has any from you.
LORD GORING. He certainly has no secrets from me. At least I donât think so.
LADY CHILTERN. Then am I not right in my estimate of him? I know I am right. But speak to me frankly.
LORD GORING. [Looking straight at her.] Quite frankly?
LADY CHILTERN. Surely. You have nothing to conceal, have you?
LORD GORING. Nothing. But, my dear Lady Chiltern, I think, if you will allow me to say so, that in practical lifeâ
LADY CHILTERN. [Smiling.] Of which you know so little, Lord Goringâ
LORD GORING. Of which I know nothing by experience, though I know something by observation. I think that in practical life there is something about success, actual success, that is a little unscrupulous, something about ambition that is unscrupulous always. Once a man has set his heart and soul on getting to a certain point, if he has to climb the crag, he climbs the crag; if he has to walk in the mireâ
LADY CHILTERN. Well?
LORD GORING. He walks in the mire. Of course I am only talking generally about life.
LADY CHILTERN. [Gravely.] I hope so. Why do you look at me so strangely, Lord Goring?
LORD GORING. Lady Chiltern, I have sometimes thought that . . . perhaps you are a little hard in some of your views on life. I think that . . . often you donât make sufficient allowances. In every nature there are elements of weakness, or worse than weakness. Supposing, for instance, thatâthat any public man, my father, or Lord Merton, or Robert, say, had, years ago, written some foolish letter to some one . . .
LADY CHILTERN. What do you mean by a foolish letter?
LORD GORING. A letter gravely compromising oneâs position. I am only putting an imaginary case.
LADY CHILTERN. Robert is as incapable of doing a foolish thing as he is of doing a wrong thing.
LORD GORING. [After a long pause.] Nobody is incapable of doing a foolish thing. Nobody is incapable of doing a wrong thing.
LADY CHILTERN. Are you a Pessimist? What will the other dandies say? They will all have to go into mourning.
LORD GORING. [Rising.] No, Lady Chiltern, I am not a Pessimist. Indeed I am not sure that I quite know what Pessimism really means. All I do know is that life cannot be understood without much charity, cannot be lived without much charity. It is love, and not German philosophy, that is the true explanation of this world, whatever may be the explanation of the next. And if you are ever in trouble, Lady Chiltern, trust me absolutely, and I will help you in every way I can. If you ever want me, come to me for my assistance, and you shall have it. Come at once to me.
LADY CHILTERN. [Looking at him in surprise.] Lord Goring, you are talking quite seriously. I donât think I ever heard you talk seriously before.
LORD GORING. [Laughing.] You must excuse me, Lady Chiltern. It wonât occur again, if I can help it.
LADY CHILTERN. But I like you to be serious.
[Enter MABEL CHILTERN, in the most ravishing frock.]
MABEL CHILTERN. Dear Gertrude, donât say such a dreadful thing to LORD GORING. Seriousness would be very unbecoming to him. Good afternoon Lord Goring! Pray be as trivial as you can.
LORD GORING. I should like to, Miss Mabel, but I am afraid I am . . . a little out of practice this morning; and besides, I have to be going now.
MABEL CHILTERN. Just when I have come in! What dreadful manners you have! I am sure you were very badly brought up.
LORD GORING. I was.
MABEL CHILTERN. I wish I had brought you up!
LORD GORING. I am so sorry you didnât.
MABEL