tyranny, threats, anything you choose. But it is his love for you.
His desire to spare you - shame, yes, shame and disgrace.
LADY WINDERMERE. What do you mean? You are insolent! What have I
to do with you?
MRS. ERLYNNE. [Humbly.] Nothing. I know it - but I tell you that
your husband loves you - that you may never meet with such love
again in your whole life - that such love you will never meet - and
that if you throw it away, the day may come when you will starve
for love and it will not be given to you, beg for love and it will
be denied you - Oh! Arthur loves you!
LADY WINDERMERE. Arthur? And you tell me there is nothing between
you?
MRS. ERLYNNE. Lady Windermere, before Heaven your husband is
guiltless of all offence towards you! And I - I tell you that had
it ever occurred to me that such a monstrous suspicion would have
entered your mind, I would have died rather than have crossed your
life or his - oh! died, gladly died! [Moves away to sofa R.]
LADY WINDERMERE. You talk as if you had a heart. Women like you
have no hearts. Heart is not in you. You are bought and sold.
[Sits L.C.]
MRS. ERLYNNE. [Starts, with a gesture of pain. Then restrains
herself, and comes over to where LADY WINDERMERE is sitting. As
she speaks, she stretches out her hands towards her, but does not
dare to touch her.] Believe what you choose about me. I am not
worth a moment's sorrow. But don't spoil your beautiful young life
on my account! You don't know what may be in store for you, unless
you leave this house at once. You don't know what it is to fall
into the pit, to be despised, mocked, abandoned, sneered at - to be
an outcast! to find the door shut against one, to have to creep in
by hideous byways, afraid every moment lest the mask should be
stripped from one's face, and all the while to hear the laughter,
the horrible laughter of the world, a thing more tragic than all
the tears the world has ever shed. You don't know what it is. One
pays for one's sin, and then one pays again, and all one's life one
pays. You must never know that. - As for me, if suffering be an
expiation, then at this moment I have expiated all my faults,
whatever they have been; for to-night you have made a heart in one
who had it not, made it and broken it. - But let that pass. I may
have wrecked my own life, but I will not let you wreck yours. You
- why, you are a mere girl, you would be lost. You haven't got the
kind of brains that enables a woman to get back. You have neither
the wit nor the courage. You couldn't stand dishonour! No! Go
back, Lady Windermere, to the husband who loves you, whom you love.
You have a child, Lady Windermere. Go back to that child who even
now, in pain or in joy, may be calling to you. [LADY WINDERMERE
rises.] God gave you that child. He will require from you that
you make his life fine, that you watch over him. What answer will
you make to God if his life is ruined through you? Back to your
house, Lady Windermere - your husband loves you! He has never
swerved for a moment from the love he bears you. But even if he
had a thousand loves, you must stay with your child. If he was
harsh to you, you must stay with your child. If he ill-treated
you, you must stay with your child. If he abandoned you, your
place is with your child.
[LADY WINDERMERE bursts into tears and buries her face in her
hands.]
[Rushing to her.] Lady Windermere!
LADY WINDERMERE. [Holding out her hands to her, helplessly, as a
child might do.] Take me home. Take me home.
MRS. ERLYNNE. [Is about to embrace her. Then restrains herself.
There is a look of wonderful joy in her face.] Come! Where is
your cloak? [Getting it from sofa.] Here. Put it on. Come at
once!
[They go to the door.]
LADY WINDERMERE. Stop! Don't you hear voices?
MRS. ERLYNNE. No, no! There was no one!
LADY WINDERMERE. Yes, there is! Listen! Oh! that is my husband's
voice! He is coming in! Save me! Oh, it's some plot! You have
sent for him.
[Voices outside.]
MRS. ERLYNNE. Silence! I'm here to save you, if I can. But I
fear it is too late! There! [Points to the curtain across the
window.] The first chance you have, slip out, if you ever get a
chance!
LADY WINDERMERE. But you?
MRS. ERLYNNE. Oh! never mind me. I'll face them.
[LADY WINDERMERE hides herself behind the curtain.]
LORD AUGUSTUS. [Outside.] Nonsense, dear Windermere, you must not
leave me!
MRS. ERLYNNE. Lord Augustus! Then it is I who am lost!
[Hesitates for a moment, then looks round and sees door R., and
exits through it.]
[Enter LORD DARLINGTON, MR. DUMBY, LORD WINDERMERE, LORD AUGUSTUS
LORTON, and MR. CECIL GRAHAM.
DUMBY. What a nuisance their turning us out of the club at this
hour! It's only two o'clock. [Sinks into a chair.] The lively
part of the evening is only just beginning. [Yawns and closes his
eyes.]
LORD WINDERMERE. It is very good of you, Lord Darlington, allowing
Augustus to force our company on you, but I'm afraid I can't stay
long.
LORD DARLINGTON. Really! I am so sorry! You'll take a cigar,
won't you?
LORD WINDERMERE. Thanks! [Sits down.]
LORD AUGUSTUS. [To LORD WINDERMERE.] My dear boy, you must not
dream of going. I have a great deal to talk to you about, of
demmed importance, too. [Sits down with him at L. table.]
CECIL GRAHAM. Oh! We all know what that is! Tuppy can't talk
about anything but Mrs. Erlynne.
LORD WINDERMERE. Well, that is no business of yours, is it, Cecil?
CECIL GRAHAM. None! That is why it interests me. My own business
always bores me to death. I prefer other people's.
LORD DARLINGTON. Have something to drink, you fellows. Cecil,
you'll have a whisky and soda?
CECIL GRAHAM. Thanks. [Goes to table with LORD DARLINGTON.] Mrs.
Erlynne looked very handsome to-night, didn't she?
LORD DARLINGTON. I am not one of her admirers.
CECIL GRAHAM. I usen't to be, but I am now. Why! she actually
made me introduce her to poor dear Aunt Caroline. I believe she is
going to lunch there.
LORD DARLINGTON. [In Purple.] No?
CECIL GRAHAM. She is, really.
LORD DARLINGTON. Excuse me, you fellows. I'm going away to-
morrow. And I have to write a few letters. [Goes to writing table
and sits down.]
DUMBY. Clever woman, Mrs. Erlynne.
CECIL GRAHAM. Hallo, Dumby! I thought you were asleep.
DUMBY. I am, I usually am!
LORD AUGUSTUS. A very clever woman. Knows perfectly well what a
demmed fool I am - knows it as well as I do myself.
[CECIL GRAHAM comes towards him laughing.]
Ah, you may laugh, my boy, but it is a great thing to come across a
woman who thoroughly understands one.
DUMBY. It is an awfully dangerous thing. They always end by
marrying one.
CECIL GRAHAM. But I thought, Tuppy, you were never going to see
her again! Yes! you told me so yesterday evening at the club. You
said you'd heard -
[Whispering to him.]
LORD AUGUSTUS. Oh, she's explained that.
CECIL GRAHAM. And the Wiesbaden affair?
LORD AUGUSTUS. She's explained that too.
DUMBY. And her income, Tuppy? Has she explained that?
LORD AUGUSTUS. [In a very serious voice.] She's going to explain
that to-morrow.
[CECIL GRAHAM goes back to C. table.]
DUMBY. Awfully commercial, women nowadays. Our grandmothers threw
their caps over the mills, of course, but, by Jove, their
granddaughters only throw their caps over mills that can raise the
wind for them.
LORD AUGUSTUS. You want to make her out a wicked woman. She is
not!
CECIL GRAHAM. Oh! Wicked women bother one. Good women bore one.
That is the only difference between them.
