and exit C.]
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. [Who has risen, goes C.] What a charming,
wicked creature! I like him so much. I'm quite delighted he's
gone! How sweet you're looking! Where DO you get your gowns? And
now I must tell you how sorry I am for you, dear Margaret.
[Crosses to sofa and sits with LADY WINDERMERE.] Agatha, darling!
LADY AGATHA. Yes, mamma. [Rises.]
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Will you go and look over the photograph album
that I see there?
LADY AGATHA. Yes, mamma. [Goes to table up L.]
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Dear girl! She is so fond of photographs of
Switzerland. Such a pure taste, I think. But I really am so sorry
for you, Margaret
LADY WINDERMERE. [Smiling.] Why, Duchess?
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Oh, on account of that horrid woman. She
dresses so well, too, which makes it much worse, sets such a
dreadful example. Augustus - you know my disreputable brother -
such a trial to us all - well, Augustus is completely infatuated
about her. It is quite scandalous, for she is absolutely
inadmissible into society. Many a woman has a past, but I am told
that she has at least a dozen, and that they all fit.
LADY WINDERMERE. Whom are you talking about, Duchess?
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. About Mrs. Erlynne.
LADY WINDERMERE. Mrs. Erlynne? I never heard of her, Duchess.
And what HAS she to do with me?
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. My poor child! Agatha, darling!
LADY AGATHA. Yes, mamma.
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Will you go out on the terrace and look at the
sunset?
LADY AGATHA. Yes, mamma. [Exit through window, L.]
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Sweet girl! So devoted to sunsets! Shows
such refinement of feeling, does it not? After all, there is
nothing like Nature, is there?
LADY WINDERMERE. But what is it, Duchess? Why do you talk to me
about this person?
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Don't you really know? I assure you we're all
so distressed about it. Only last night at dear Lady Jansen's
every one was saying how extraordinary it was that, of all men in
London, Windermere should behave in such a way.
LADY WINDERMERE. My husband - what has HE got to do with any woman
of that kind?
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Ah, what indeed, dear? That is the point. He
goes to see her continually, and stops for hours at a time, and
while he is there she is not at home to any one. Not that many
ladies call on her, dear, but she has a great many disreputable men
friends - my own brother particularly, as I told you - and that is
what makes it so dreadful about Windermere. We looked upon HIM as
being such a model husband, but I am afraid there is no doubt about
it. My dear nieces - you know the Saville girls, don't you? - such
nice domestic creatures - plain, dreadfully plain, but so good -
well, they're always at the window doing fancy work, and making
ugly things for the poor, which I think so useful of them in these
dreadful socialistic days, and this terrible woman has taken a
house in Curzon Street, right opposite them - such a respectable
street, too! I don't know what we're coming to! And they tell me
that Windermere goes there four and five times a week - they SEE
him. They can't help it - and although they never talk scandal,
they - well, of course - they remark on it to every one. And the
worst of it all is that I have been told that this woman has got a
great deal of money out of somebody, for it seems that she came to
London six months ago without anything at all to speak of, and now
she has this charming house in Mayfair, drives her ponies in the
Park every afternoon and all - well, all - since she has known poor
dear Windermere.
LADY WINDERMERE. Oh, I can't believe it!
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. But it's quite true, my dear. The whole of
London knows it. That is why I felt it was better to come and talk
to you, and advise you to take Windermere away at once to Homburg
or to Aix, where he'll have something to amuse him, and where you
can watch him all day long. I assure you, my dear, that on several
occasions after I was first married, I had to pretend to be very
ill, and was obliged to drink the most unpleasant mineral waters,
merely to get Berwick out of town. He was so extremely
susceptible. Though I am bound to say he never gave away any large
sums of money to anybody. He is far too high-principled for that!
LADY WINDERMERE. [Interrupting.] Duchess, Duchess, it's
impossible! [Rising and crossing stage to C.] We are only married
two years. Our child is but six months old. [Sits in chair R. of
L. table.]
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Ah, the dear pretty baby! How is the little
darling? Is it a boy or a girl? I hope a girl - Ah, no, I
remember it's a boy! I'm so sorry. Boys are so wicked. My boy is
excessively immoral. You wouldn't believe at what hours he comes
home. And he's only left Oxford a few months - I really don't know
what they teach them there.
LADY WINDERMERE. Are ALL men bad?
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Oh, all of them, my dear, all of them, without
any exception. And they never grow any better. Men become old,
but they never become good.
LADY WINDERMERE. Windermere and I married for love.
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Yes, we begin like that. It was only
Berwick's brutal and incessant threats of suicide that made me
accept him at all, and before the year was out, he was running
after all kinds of petticoats, every colour, every shape, every
material. In fact, before the honeymoon was over, I caught him
winking at my maid, a most pretty, respectable girl. I dismissed
her at once without a character. - No, I remember I passed her on
to my sister; poor dear Sir George is so short-sighted, I thought
it wouldn't matter. But it did, though - it was most unfortunate.
[Rises.] And now, my dear child, I must go, as we are dining out.
And mind you don't take this little aberration of Windermere's too
much to heart. Just take him abroad, and he'll come back to you
all right.
LADY WINDERMERE. Come back to me? [C.]
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. [L.C.] Yes, dear, these wicked women get our
husbands away from us, but they always come back, slightly damaged,
of course. And don't make scenes, men hate them!
LADY WINDERMERE. It is very kind of you, Duchess, to come and tell
me all this. But I can't believe that my husband is untrue to me.
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Pretty child! I was like that once. Now I
know that all men are monsters. [LADY WINDERMERE rings bell.] The
only thing to do is to feed the wretches well. A good cook does
wonders, and that I know you have. My dear Margaret, you are not
going to cry?
LADY WINDERMERE. You needn't be afraid, Duchess, I never cry.
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. That's quite right, dear. Crying is the
refuge of plain women but the ruin of pretty ones. Agatha,
darling!
LADY AGATHA. [Entering L.] Yes, mamma. [Stands back of table
L.C.]
DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Come and bid good-bye to Lady Windermere, and
thank her for your charming visit. [Coming down again.] And by
the way, I must thank you for sending a card to Mr. Hopper - he's
that rich young Australian people are taking such notice of just at
present. His father made a great fortune by selling some kind of
food in circular tins - most palatable, I believe - I fancy it is
the thing the servants always refuse to eat. But the son is quite
interesting. I think he's attracted by dear Agatha's clever talk.
Of course, we should be very sorry to lose her, but I think that a
mother who doesn't part with a daughter every season has no real
affection. We're coming to-night, dear. [PARKER opens C. doors.]
And remember my advice, take the poor fellow out of town at once,
it is the only thing to do. Good-bye, once more; come, Agatha.
[Exeunt DUCHESS and LADY AGATHA C.]
LADY WINDERMERE. How horrible! I understand now what Lord
Darlington meant by the imaginary instance of the couple not two
years married. Oh! it can't be true - she spoke of enormous sums
of money paid to this woman. I know where Arthur keeps his bank
book - in one of the drawers of that desk. I might find out by
that. I WILL find out. [Opens drawer.] No, it is some hideous
mistake. [Rises and goes C.] Some silly scandal! He loves ME!
He loves ME! But why should I not look? I am his wife, I have a
right to look! [Returns to bureau, takes out book and examines it
page by page, smiles and gives a sigh of relief.] I knew it! there
is not a word of truth in this stupid story. [Puts book back in
dranver. As the does so, starts and takes out another book.] A
second book - private - locked! [Tries to open it, but fails.
Sees paper knife on bureau, and with it cuts cover from book.
Begins to start at the first page.] 'Mrs. Erlynne - ?00 - Mrs.
Erlynne - ?00 - Mrs. Erlynne - ?00.' Oh! it is true! It is
true! How horrible! [Throws book on floor.] [Enter LORD
WINDERMERE C.]
LORD WINDERMERE. Well, dear, has the fan been sent home yet?
[Going R.C. Sees book.] Margaret, you have cut open my bank book.
You have no right to do such a thing!
LADY WINDERMERE. You think it wrong that you are found out, don't
you?
LORD WINDERMERE. I think it wrong that a wife should spy on her
husband.
