THE PERSONS IN THE PLAY
John Worthing, J.P. Algernon
Moncrieff Rev. Canon Chasuble, D.D. Merriman, Butler Lane,
Manservant Lady Bracknell Hon. Gwendolen Fairfax Cecily Cardew Miss
Prism, Governess
THE SCENES OF THE PLAY
ACT I. Algernon Moncrieff's Flat
in Half-Moon Street, W. ACT II. The Garden at the Manor House,
Woolton.
ACT III. Drawing-Room at the
Manor House, Woolton.
FIRST ACT - Algernon Moncrieff's
Flat in Half-Moon Street, W
SCENE
Morning-room in Algernon's flat
in Half-Moon Street. The room is luxuriously and artistically
furnished. The sound of a piano is heard in the adjoining
room.
[Lane is arranging afternoon tea
on the table, and after the music has ceased, Algernon
enters.]
Algernon. Did you hear what I was
playing, Lane? Lane. I didn't think it polite to listen, sir.
Algernon. I'm sorry for that, for
your sake. I don't play accurately--any one can play
accurately--but I play with wonderful expression. As far as the
piano is concerned, sentiment is my forte. I keep science for
Life.
Lane. Yes, sir.
Algernon. And, speaking of the
science of Life, have you got the cucumber sandwiches cut for Lady
Bracknell?
Lane. Yes, sir. [Hands them on a
salver.]
Algernon. [Inspects them, takes
two, and sits down on the sofa.] Oh! . . . by the way, Lane, I see
from your book that on Thursday night, when Lord Shoreman and Mr.
Worthing were dining with me, eight bottles of champagne are
entered as having been consumed.
Lane. Yes, sir; eight bottles and
a pint.
Algernon. Why is it that at a
bachelor's establishment the servants invariably drink the
champagne? I ask merely for information.
Lane. I attribute it to the
superior quality of the wine, sir. I have often observed that in
married households the champagne is rarely of a first-rate
brand.
Algernon. Good heavens! Is
marriage so demoralising as that?
Lane. I believe it is a very
pleasant state, sir. I have had very little experience of it myself
up to the present. I have only been married once. That was in
consequence of a misunderstanding between myself and a young
person.
Algernon. [Languidly.] I don't
know that I am much interested in your family life, Lane.
Lane. No, sir; it is not a very
interesting subject. I never think of it myself. Algernon. Very
natural, I am sure. That will do, Lane, thank you.
Lane. Thank you, sir. [Lane goes
out.]
Algernon. Lane's views on
marriage seem somewhat lax. Really, if the lower orders don't set
us a good example, what on earth is the use of them? They seem, as
a class, to have absolutely no sense of moral responsibility.
[Enter Lane.]
Lane. Mr. Ernest Worthing. [Enter
Jack.]
[Lane goes out.]
Algernon. How are you, my dear
Ernest? What brings you up to town?
Jack. Oh, pleasure, pleasure!
What else should bring one anywhere? Eating as usual, I see,
Algy!
Algernon. [Stiffly.] I believe it
is customary in good society to take some slight refreshment at
five o'clock. Where have you been since last Thursday?
Jack. [Sitting down on the sofa.]
In the country. Algernon. What on earth do you do there?
Jack. [Pulling off his gloves.]
When one is in town one amuses oneself. When one is in the country
one amuses other people. It is excessively boring.
Algernon. And who are the people
you amuse? Jack. [Airily.] Oh, neighbours, neighbours.
Algernon. Got nice neighbours in
your part of Shropshire? Jack. Perfectly horrid! Never speak to one
of them.
Algernon. How immensely you must
amuse them! [Goes over and takes sandwich.] By the way, Shropshire
is your county, is it not?
Jack. Eh? Shropshire? Yes, of
course. Hallo! Why all these cups? Why cucumber sandwiches? Why
such reckless extravagance in one so young? Who is coming to
tea?
Algernon. Oh! merely Aunt Augusta
and Gwendolen. Jack. How perfectly delightful!
Algernon. Yes, that is all very
well; but I am afraid Aunt Augusta won't quite approve of your
being here.
Jack. May I ask why?
Algernon. My dear fellow, the way
you flirt with Gwendolen is perfectly disgraceful. It is almost as
bad as the way Gwendolen flirts with you.
Jack. I am in love with
Gwendolen. I have come up to town expressly to propose to
her.
Algernon. I thought you had come
up for pleasure? . . . I call that business. Jack. How utterly
unromantic you are!
Algernon. I really don't see
anything romantic in proposing. It is very romantic to be in love.
But there is nothing romantic about a definite proposal. Why, one
may be accepted. One usually is, I believe. Then the excitement is
all over. The very essence of romance is uncertainty. If ever I get
married, I'll certainly try to forget the fact.
Jack. I have no doubt about that,
dear Algy. The Divorce Court was specially invented for people
whose memories are so curiously constituted.
Algernon. Oh! there is no use
speculating on that subject. Divorces are made in Heaven--[Jack
puts out his hand to take a sandwich. Algernon at once interferes.]
Please don't touch the cucumber sandwiches. They are ordered
specially for Aunt Augusta. [Takes one and eats it.]
Jack. Well, you have been eating
them all the time.
Algernon. That is quite a
different matter. She is my aunt. [Takes plate from below.] Have
some bread and butter. The bread and butter is for Gwendolen.
Gwendolen is devoted to bread and butter.
Jack. [Advancing to table and
helping himself.] And very good bread and butter it is too.
Algernon. Well, my dear fellow,
you need not eat as if you were going to eat it all. You behave as
if you were married to her already. You are not married to her
already, and I don't think you ever will be.
Jack. Why on earth do you say
that?
Algernon. Well, in the first
place girls never marry the men they flirt with. Girls don't think
it right.
Jack. Oh, that is nonsense!
Algernon. It isn't. It is a great
truth. It accounts for the extraordinary number of bachelors that
one sees all over the place. In the second place, I don't give my
consent.
Jack. Your consent!
Algernon. My dear fellow,
Gwendolen is my first cousin. And before I allow you to marry her,
you will have to clear up the whole question of Cecily. [Rings
bell.]
Jack. Cecily! What on earth do
you mean? What do you mean, Algy, by Cecily! I don't know any one
of the name of Cecily.
[Enter Lane.]
Algernon. Bring me that cigarette
case Mr. Worthing left in the smoking- room the last time he dined
here.
Lane. Yes, sir. [Lane goes
out.]
Jack. Do you mean to say you have
had my cigarette case all this time? I wish to goodness you had let
me know. I have been writing frantic letters to Scotland Yard about
it. I was very nearly offering a large reward.
Algernon. Well, I wish you would
offer one. I happen to be more than usually hard up.
Jack. There is no good offering a
large reward now that the thing is found.
[Enter Lane with the cigarette
case on a salver. Algernon takes it at once. Lane goes out.]
Algernon. I think that is rather
mean of you, Ernest, I must say. [Opens case and examines it.]
However, it makes no matter, for, now that I look at the
inscription inside, I find that the thing isn't yours after
all.
Jack. Of course it's mine.
[Moving to him.] You have seen me with it a hundred times, and you
have no right whatsoever to read what is written inside. It is a
very ungentlemanly thing to read a private cigarette case.
Algernon. Oh! it is absurd to
have a hard and fast rule about what one should read and what one
shouldn't. More than half of modern culture depends on what one
shouldn't read.