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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 to-night 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 DROP



SECOND ACT



SCENE

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

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