They mean so little.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Again tears at the bracelet in a paroxysm of rage, with inarticulate sounds. Then stops, and looks at LORD GORING.] What are you going to do?
LORD GORING. I am going to ring for my servant. He is an admirable servant. Always comes in the moment one rings for him. When he comes I will tell him to fetch the police.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Trembling.] The police? What for?
LORD GORING. To-morrow the Berkshires will prosecute you. That is what the police are for.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Is now in an agony of physical terror. Her face is distorted. Her mouth awry. A mask has fallen from her. She it, for the moment, dreadful to look at.] Donât do that. I will do anything you want. Anything in the world you want.
LORD GORING. Give me Robert Chilternâs letter.
MRS. CHEVELEY. Stop! Stop! Let me have time to think.
LORD GORING. Give me Robert Chilternâs letter.
MRS. CHEVELEY. I have not got it with me. I will give it to you to-morrow.
LORD GORING. You know you are lying. Give it to me at once. [MRS. CHEVELEY pulls the letter out, and hands it to him. She is horribly pale.] This is it?
MRS. CHEVELEY. [In a hoarse voice.] Yes.
LORD GORING. [Takes the letter, examines it, sighs, and burns it with the lamp.] For so well-dressed a woman, Mrs. Cheveley, you have moments of admirable common sense. I congratulate you.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Catches sight of LADY CHILTERNâs letter, the cover of which is just showing from under the blotting-book.] Please get me a glass of water.
LORD GORING. Certainly. [Goes to the corner of the room and pours out a glass of water. While his back is turned MRS. CHEVELEY steals LADY CHILTERNâs letter. When LORD GORING returns the glass she refuses it with a gesture.]
MRS. CHEVELEY. Thank you. Will you help me on with my cloak?
LORD GORING. With pleasure. [Puts her cloak on.]
MRS. CHEVELEY. Thanks. I am never going to try to harm Robert Chiltern again.
LORD GORING. Fortunately you have not the chance, Mrs. Cheveley.
MRS. CHEVELEY. Well, if even I had the chance, I wouldnât. On the contrary, I am going to render him a great service.
LORD GORING. I am charmed to hear it. It is a reformation.
MRS. CHEVELEY. Yes. I canât bear so upright a gentleman, so honourable an English gentleman, being so shamefully deceived, and soâ
LORD GORING. Well?
MRS. CHEVELEY. I find that somehow Gertrude Chilternâs dying speech and confession has strayed into my pocket.
LORD GORING. What do you mean?
MRS. CHEVELEY. [With a bitter note of triumph in her voice.] I mean that I am going to send Robert Chiltern the love-letter his wife wrote to you to-night.
LORD GORING. Love-letter?
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Laughing.] âI want you. I trust you. I am coming to you. Gertrude.â
[LORD GORING rushes to the bureau and takes up the envelope, finds is empty, and turns round.]
LORD GORING. You wretched woman, must you always be thieving? Give me back that letter. Iâll take it from you by force. You shall not leave my room till I have got it.
[He rushes towards her, but MRS. CHEVELEY at once puts her hand on the electric bell that is on the table. The bell sounds with shrill reverberations, and PHIPPS enters.]
MRS. CHEVELEY. [After a pause.] Lord Goring merely rang that you should show me out. Good-night, Lord Goring!
[Goes out followed by PHIPPS . Her face it illumined with evil triumph. There is joy in her eyes. Youth seems to have come back to her. Her last glance is like a swift arrow. LORD GORING bites his lip, and lights his a cigarette.]
Act Drops
FOURTH ACT
SCENE
Same as Act II.
[LORD GORING is standing by the fireplace with his hands in his pockets. He is looking rather bored.]
LORD GORING. [Pulls out his watch, inspects it, and rings the bell.] It is a great nuisance. I canât find any one in this house to talk to. And I am full of interesting information. I feel like the latest edition of something or other.
[Enter servant.]
JAMES. Sir
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Again tears at the bracelet in a paroxysm of rage, with inarticulate sounds. Then stops, and looks at LORD GORING.] What are you going to do?
LORD GORING. I am going to ring for my servant. He is an admirable servant. Always comes in the moment one rings for him. When he comes I will tell him to fetch the police.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Trembling.] The police? What for?
LORD GORING. To-morrow the Berkshires will prosecute you. That is what the police are for.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Is now in an agony of physical terror. Her face is distorted. Her mouth awry. A mask has fallen from her. She it, for the moment, dreadful to look at.] Donât do that. I will do anything you want. Anything in the world you want.
LORD GORING. Give me Robert Chilternâs letter.
MRS. CHEVELEY. Stop! Stop! Let me have time to think.
LORD GORING. Give me Robert Chilternâs letter.
MRS. CHEVELEY. I have not got it with me. I will give it to you to-morrow.
LORD GORING. You know you are lying. Give it to me at once. [MRS. CHEVELEY pulls the letter out, and hands it to him. She is horribly pale.] This is it?
MRS. CHEVELEY. [In a hoarse voice.] Yes.
LORD GORING. [Takes the letter, examines it, sighs, and burns it with the lamp.] For so well-dressed a woman, Mrs. Cheveley, you have moments of admirable common sense. I congratulate you.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Catches sight of LADY CHILTERNâs letter, the cover of which is just showing from under the blotting-book.] Please get me a glass of water.
LORD GORING. Certainly. [Goes to the corner of the room and pours out a glass of water. While his back is turned MRS. CHEVELEY steals LADY CHILTERNâs letter. When LORD GORING returns the glass she refuses it with a gesture.]
MRS. CHEVELEY. Thank you. Will you help me on with my cloak?
LORD GORING. With pleasure. [Puts her cloak on.]
MRS. CHEVELEY. Thanks. I am never going to try to harm Robert Chiltern again.
LORD GORING. Fortunately you have not the chance, Mrs. Cheveley.
MRS. CHEVELEY. Well, if even I had the chance, I wouldnât. On the contrary, I am going to render him a great service.
LORD GORING. I am charmed to hear it. It is a reformation.
MRS. CHEVELEY. Yes. I canât bear so upright a gentleman, so honourable an English gentleman, being so shamefully deceived, and soâ
LORD GORING. Well?
MRS. CHEVELEY. I find that somehow Gertrude Chilternâs dying speech and confession has strayed into my pocket.
LORD GORING. What do you mean?
MRS. CHEVELEY. [With a bitter note of triumph in her voice.] I mean that I am going to send Robert Chiltern the love-letter his wife wrote to you to-night.
LORD GORING. Love-letter?
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Laughing.] âI want you. I trust you. I am coming to you. Gertrude.â
[LORD GORING rushes to the bureau and takes up the envelope, finds is empty, and turns round.]
LORD GORING. You wretched woman, must you always be thieving? Give me back that letter. Iâll take it from you by force. You shall not leave my room till I have got it.
[He rushes towards her, but MRS. CHEVELEY at once puts her hand on the electric bell that is on the table. The bell sounds with shrill reverberations, and PHIPPS enters.]
MRS. CHEVELEY. [After a pause.] Lord Goring merely rang that you should show me out. Good-night, Lord Goring!
[Goes out followed by PHIPPS . Her face it illumined with evil triumph. There is joy in her eyes. Youth seems to have come back to her. Her last glance is like a swift arrow. LORD GORING bites his lip, and lights his a cigarette.]
Act Drops
FOURTH ACT
SCENE
Same as Act II.
[LORD GORING is standing by the fireplace with his hands in his pockets. He is looking rather bored.]
LORD GORING. [Pulls out his watch, inspects it, and rings the bell.] It is a great nuisance. I canât find any one in this house to talk to. And I am full of interesting information. I feel like the latest edition of something or other.
[Enter servant.]
JAMES. Sir
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