An Ideal Husband

But circumstances alter things. Lady Chiltern Circumstances should never alter principles! Sir Robert Chiltern But if I told you⁠— Lady Chiltern What? Sir Robert Chiltern That it was necessary, vitally necessary? Lady Chiltern It can never be necessary to do what is not honourable. Or if it be necessary, then what is it that I have loved! But it is not, Robert; tell me it is not. Why should it be? What gain would you get? Money? We have no need of that! And money that comes from a tainted source is a degradation. Power? But power is nothing in itself. It is power to do good that is fine⁠—that, and that only. What is it, then? Robert, tell me why you are going to do this dishonourable thing! Sir Robert Chiltern Gertrude, you have no right to use that word. I told you it was a question of rational compromise. It is no more than that. Lady Chiltern Robert, that is all very well for other men, for men who treat life simply as a sordid speculation; but not for you, Robert, not for you. You are different. All your life you have stood apart from others. You have never let the world soil you. To the world, as to myself, you have been an ideal always. Oh! be that ideal still. That great inheritance throw not away⁠—that tower of ivory do not destroy. Robert, men can love what is beneath them⁠—things unworthy, stained, dishonoured. We women worship when we love; and when we lose our worship, we lose everything. Oh! don’t kill my love for you, don’t kill that! Sir Robert Chiltern Gertrude! Lady Chiltern I know that there are men with horrible secrets in their lives⁠—men who have done some shameful thing, and who in some critical moment have to pay for it, by doing some other act of shame⁠—oh! don’t tell me you are such as they are! Robert, is there in your life any secret dishonour or disgrace? Tell me, tell me at once, that⁠— Sir Robert Chiltern That what? Lady Chiltern Speaking very slowly. That our lives may drift apart. Sir Robert Chiltern Drift apart? Lady Chiltern That they may be entirely separate. It would be better for us both. Sir Robert Chiltern Gertrude, there is nothing in my past life that you might not know. Lady Chiltern I was sure of it, Robert, I was sure of it. But why did you say those dreadful things, things so unlike your real self? Don’t let us ever talk about the subject again. You will write, won’t you, to Mrs. Cheveley, and tell her that you cannot support this scandalous scheme of hers? If you have given her any promise you must take it back, that is all! Sir Robert Chiltern Must I write and tell her that? Lady Chiltern Surely, Robert! What else is there to do? Sir Robert Chiltern I might see her personally. It would be better. Lady Chiltern You must never see her again, Robert. She is not a woman you should ever speak to. She is not worthy to talk to a man like you. No; you must write to her at once, now, this moment, and let your letter show her that your decision is quite irrevocable! Sir Robert Chiltern Write this moment! Lady Chiltern Yes. Sir Robert Chiltern But it is so late. It is close on twelve. Lady Chiltern That makes no matter. She must know at once that she has been mistaken in you⁠—and that you are not a man to do anything base or underhand or dishonourable. Write here, Robert. Write that you decline to support this scheme of hers, as you hold it to be a dishonest scheme. Yes⁠—write the word dishonest. She knows what that word means. Sir Robert Chiltern sits down and writes a letter. His wife takes it up and reads it. Yes; that will do. Rings bell. And now the envelope. He writes the envelope slowly. Enter Mason. Have this letter sent at once to Claridge’s Hotel. There is no answer. Exit Mason. Lady Chiltern kneels down beside her husband, and puts her arms around him. Robert, love gives one an instinct to things. I feel tonight that I have saved you from something that might have been a danger to you, from something that might have made men honour you less than they do. I don’t think you realise sufficiently, Robert, that you have brought into the political life of our time a nobler atmosphere, a finer attitude towards life, a freer air of purer aims and higher ideals⁠—I know it, and for that I love you, Robert. Sir Robert Chiltern Oh, love me always, Gertrude, love me always! Lady Chiltern I will love you always, because you will always be worthy of love. We needs must love the highest when we see it! Kisses him and rises and goes out. Sir Robert Chiltern walks up and down for a moment; then sits down and buries his face in his hands. The servant enters and begins pulling out the lights. Sir Robert Chiltern looks up. Sir Robert Chiltern Put out the lights, Mason, put out the lights! The servant puts out the lights. The room becomes almost dark. The only light there is comes from the great chandelier that hangs over the staircase and illumines the tapestry of the Triumph of Love.

Act II

Morning room at Sir Robert Chiltern’s house.

	Lord Goring, dressed in the height of fashion, is lounging in an armchair. Sir Robert Chiltern is standing in front of the fireplace. He is evidently in a state of great mental excitement and distress. As the scene progresses he paces nervously up and down the room.
Lord Goring	My dear Robert, it’s a very awkward business, very awkward indeed. You should have told your wife the whole thing. Secrets from other people’s wives are a necessary luxury in modern life. So, at least, I am always told at the club by people who