An Ideal Husband by Oscar Wilde Page A

Robert is still at the Foreign Office, my lord.
    LORD GORING. Lady Chiltern not down yet?
    JAMES. Her ladyship has not yet left her room. Miss Chiltern has just come in from riding.
    LORD GORING. [To himself.] Ah! that is something.
    JAMES. Lord Caversham has been waiting some time in the library for Sir Robert. I told him your lordship was here.
    LORD GORING. Thank you! Would you kindly tell him I’ve gone?
    JAMES. [Bowing.] I shall do so, my lord.
    [Exit servant.]
    LORD GORING. Really, I don’t want to meet my father three days running. It is a great deal too much excitement for any son. I hope to goodness he won’t come up. Fathers should be neither seen nor heard. That is the only proper basis for family life. Mothers are different. Mothers are darlings. [Throws himself down into a chair, picks up a paper and begins to read it.]
    [Enter LORD CAVERSHAM.]
    LORD CAVERSHAM. Well, sir, what are you doing here? Wasting your time as usual, I suppose?
    LORD GORING. [Throws down paper and rises.] My dear father, when one pays a visit it is for the purpose of wasting other people’s time, not one’s own.
    LORD CAVERSHAM. Have you been thinking over what I spoke to you about last night?
    LORD GORING. I have been thinking about nothing else.
    LORD CAVERSHAM. Engaged to be married yet?
    LORD GORING. [Genially.] Not yet: but I hope to be before lunch-time.
    LORD CAVERSHAM. [Caustically.] You can have till dinner-time if it would be of any convenience to you.
    LORD GORING. Thanks awfully, but I think I’d sooner be engaged before lunch.
    LORD CAVERSHAM. Humph! Never know when you are serious or not.
    LORD GORING. Neither do I, father.
    [A pause.]
    LORD CAVERSHAM. I suppose you have read The Times this morning?
    LORD GORING. [Airily.] The Times? Certainly not. I only read The Morning Post. All that one should know about modern life is where the Duchesses are; anything else is quite demoralising.
    LORD CAVERSHAM. Do you mean to say you have not read The Times leading article on Robert Chiltern’s career?
    LORD GORING. Good heavens! No. What does it say?
    LORD CAVERSHAM. What should it say, sir? Everything complimentary, of course. Chiltern’s speech last night on this Argentine Canal scheme was one of the finest pieces of oratory ever delivered in the House since Canning.
    LORD GORING. Ah! Never heard of Canning. Never wanted to. And did . . . did Chiltern uphold the scheme?
    LORD CAVERSHAM. Uphold it, sir? How little you know him! Why, he denounced it roundly, and the whole system of modern political finance. This speech is the turning-point in his career, as The Times points out. You should read this article, sir. [Opens The Times.] ‘Sir Robert Chiltern . . . most rising of our young statesmen . . . Brilliant orator . . . Unblemished career . . . Well-known integrity of character . . . Represents what is best in English public life . . . Noble contrast to the lax morality so common among foreign politicians.’ They will never say that of you, sir.
    LORD GORING. I sincerely hope not, father. However, I am delighted at what you tell me about Robert, thoroughly delighted. It shows he has got pluck.
    LORD CAVERSHAM. He has got more than pluck, sir, he has got genius.
    LORD GORING. Ah! I prefer pluck. It is not so common, nowadays, as genius is.
    LORD CAVERSHAM. I wish you would go into Parliament.
    LORD GORING. My dear father, only people who look dull ever get into the House of Commons, and only people who are dull ever succeed there.
    LORD CAVERSHAM. Why don’t you try to do something useful in life?
    LORD GORING. I am far too young.
    LORD CAVERSHAM. [Testily.] I hate this affectation of youth, sir. It is a great deal too prevalent nowadays.
    LORD GORING. Youth isn’t an affectation. Youth is an art.
    LORD CAVERSHAM. Why don’t you propose to that pretty Miss Chiltern?
    LORD GORING. I am of a very nervous disposition, especially in the morning.
    LORD CAVERSHAM. I don’t suppose there