ACT III

by Oscar Wilde

　　THIRD ACTSCENEMorning-room at the Manor House.

　　[Gwendolen and Cecily are at the window, lookingout into the garden.]

　　Gwendolen. The fact that they did not follow usat once into the house, as any one else would have done, seems tome to show that they have some sense of shame left.

　　Cecily. They have been eating muffins. Thatlooks like repentance.

　　Gwendolen. [After a pause.] Theydon’t seem to notice us at all. Couldn’t youcough?

　　Cecily. But I haven’t got a cough.

　　Gwendolen. They’re looking at us. What effrontery!

　　Cecily. They’re approaching. That’s very forward of them.

　　Gwendolen. Let us preserve a dignifiedsilence.

　　Cecily. Certainly. It’s the onlything to do now. [Enter Jack followed byAlgernon. They whistle some dreadful popular airfrom a British Opera.]

　　Gwendolen. This dignified silence seems toproduce an unpleasant effect.

　　Cecily. A most distasteful one.

　　Gwendolen. But we will not be the first tospeak.

　　Cecily. Certainly not.

　　Gwendolen. Mr. Worthing, I have something veryparticular to ask you. Much depends on your reply.

　　Cecily. Gwendolen, your common sense isinvaluable. Mr. Moncrieff, kindly answer me the followingquestion. Why did you pretend to be my guardian’sbrother?

　　Algernon. In order that I might have anopportunity of meeting you.

　　Cecily. [To Gwendolen.] Thatcertainly seems a satisfactory explanation, does it not?

　　Gwendolen. Yes, dear, if you can believe him.

　　Cecily. I don’t. But that does notaffect the wonderful beauty of his answer.

　　Gwendolen. True. In matters of graveimportance, style, not sincerity is the vital thing. Mr.Worthing, what explanation can you offer to me for pretending tohave a brother? Was it in order that you might have anopportunity of coming up to town to see me as often aspossible?

　　Jack. Can you doubt it, Miss Fairfax?

　　Gwendolen. I have the gravest doubts upon thesubject. But I intend to crush them. This is not themoment for German scepticism. [Moving toCecily.] Their explanations appear to be quitesatisfactory, especially Mr. Worthing’s. That seemsto me to have the stamp of truth upon it.

　　Cecily. I am more than content with what Mr.Moncrieff said. His voice alone inspires one with absolutecredulity.

　　Gwendolen. Then you think we should forgivethem?

　　Cecily. Yes. I mean no.

　　Gwendolen. True! I had forgotten. There are principles at stake that one cannot surrender. Which of us should tell them? The task is not a pleasantone.

　　Cecily. Could we not both speak at the sametime?

　　Gwendolen. An excellent idea! I nearlyalways speak at the same time as other people. Will youtake the time from me?

　　Cecily. Certainly. [Gwendolen beatstime with uplifted finger.]

　　Gwendolen and Cecily [Speaking together.] Your Christian names are still an insuperable barrier. Thatis all!

　　Jack and Algernon [Speaking together.] OurChristian names! Is that all? But we are going to bechristened this afternoon.

　　Gwendolen. [To Jack.] For my sakeyou are prepared to do this terrible thing?

　　Jack. I am.

　　Cecily. [To Algernon.] To please meyou are ready to face this fearful ordeal?

　　Algernon. I am!

　　Gwendolen. How absurd to talk of the equality ofthe sexes! Where questions of self-sacrifice are concerned,men are infinitely beyond us.

　　Jack. We are. [Clasps hands withAlgernon.]

　　Cecily. They have moments of physical courage ofwhich we women know absolutely nothing.

　　Gwendolen. [To Jack.] Darling!

　　Algernon. [To Cecily.] Darling! [They fall into each other’s arms.]

　　[Enter Merriman. When he enters he coughs loudly,seeing the situation.]

　　Merriman. Ahem! Ahem! LadyBracknell!

　　Jack. Good heavens!

　　[Enter Lady Bracknell. The couples separate inalarm. Exit Merriman.]

　　Lady Bracknell. Gwendolen! What does thismean?

　　Gwendolen. Merely that I am engaged to be marriedto Mr. Worthing, mamma.

　　Lady Bracknell. Come here. Sit down. Sit down immediately. Hesitation of any kind is a sign ofmental decay in the young, of physical weakness in the old. [Turns to Jack.] Apprised, sir, of mydaughter’s sudden flight by her trusty maid, whoseconfidence I purchased by means of a small coin, I followed herat once by a luggage train. Her unhappy father is, I amglad to say, under the impression that she is attending a morethan usually lengthy lecture by the University Extension Schemeon the Influence of a permanent income on Thought. I do notpropose to undeceive him. Indeed I have never undeceivedhim on any question. I would consider it wrong. Butof course, you will clearly understand that all communicationbetween yourself and my daughter must cease immediately from thismoment. On this point, as indeed on all points, I amfirm.

　　Jack. I am engaged to be married to GwendolenLady Bracknell!

　　Lady Bracknell. You are nothing of the kind,sir. And now, as regards Algernon! . . . Algernon!

　　Algernon. Yes, Aunt Augusta.

　　Lady Bracknell. May I ask if it is in this housethat your invalid friend Mr. Bunbury resides?

　　Algernon. [Stammering.] Oh! No! Bunbury doesn’t live here. Bunbury is somewhere elseat present. In fact, Bunbury is dead.

　　Lady Bracknell. Dead! When did Mr. Bunburydie? His death must have been extremely sudden.

　　Algernon. [Airily.] Oh! I killedBunbury this afternoon. I mean poor Bunbury died thisafternoon.

　　Lady Bracknell. What did he die of?

　　Algernon. Bunbury? Oh, he was quiteexploded.

　　Lady Bracknell. Exploded! Was he the victimof a revolutionary outrage? I was not aware that Mr.Bunbury was interested in social legislation. If so, he iswell punished for his morbidity.

　　Algernon. My dear Aunt Augusta, I mean he wasfound out! The doctors found out that Bunbury could notlive, that is what I mean—so Bunbury died.

　　Lady Bracknell. He seems to have had greatconfidence in the opinion of his physicians. I am glad,however, that he made up his mind at the last to some definitecourse of action, and acted under proper medical advice. And now that we have finally got rid of this Mr. Bunbury, may Iask, Mr. Worthing, who is that young person whose hand my nephewAlgernon is now holding in what seems to me a peculiarlyunnecessary manner?

　　Jack. That lady is Miss Cecily Cardew, myward. [Lady Bracknell bows coldly toCecily.]

　　Algernon. I am engaged to be married to Cecily,Aunt Augusta.

　　Lady Bracknell. I beg your pardon?

　　Cecily. Mr. Moncrieff and I are engaged to bemarried, Lady Bracknell.

　　Lady Bracknell. [With a shiver, crossing to thesofa and sitting down.] I do not know whether there isanything peculiarly exciting in the air of this particular partof Hertfordshire, but the number of engagements that go on seemsto me considerably above the proper average that statistics havelaid down for our guidance. I think some preliminaryinquiry on my part would not be out of place. Mr. Worthing,is Miss Cardew at all connected with any of the larger railwaystations in London? I merely desire information. Until yesterday I had no idea that there were any families orpersons whose origin was a Terminus. [Jack looksperfectly furious, but restrains himself.]

　　Jack. [In a clear, cold voice.] Miss Cardewis the grand-daughter of the late Mr. Thomas Cardew of 149Belgrave Square, S.W.; Gervase Park, Dorking, Surrey; and theSporran, Fifeshire, N.B.

　　Lady Bracknell. That sounds notunsatisfactory. Three addresses always inspire confidence,even in tradesmen. But what proof have I of theirauthenticity?

　　Jack. I have carefully preserved the Court Guidesof the period. They are open to your inspection, LadyBracknell.

　　Lady Bracknell. [Grimly.] I have knownstrange errors in that publication.

　　Jack. Miss Cardew’s family solicitors areMessrs. Markby, Markby, and Markby.

　　Lady Bracknell. Markby, Markby, and Markby? A firm of the very highest position in their profession. Indeed I am told that one of the Mr. Markby’s isoccasionally to be seen at dinner parties. So far I amsatisfied.

　　Jack. [Very irritably.] How extremely kindof you, Lady Bracknell! I have also in my possession, youwill be pleased to hear, certificates of Miss Cardew’sbirth, baptism, whooping cough, registration, vaccination,confirmation, and the measles; both the German and the Englishvariety.

　　Lady Bracknell. Ah! A life crowded with incident,I see; though perhaps somewhat too exciting for a younggirl. I am not myself in favour of prematureexperiences. [Rises, looks at her watch.] Gwendolen!the time approaches for our departure. We have not a momentto lose. As a matter of form, Mr. Worthing, I had betterask you if Miss Cardew has any little fortune?

　　Jack. Oh! about a hundred and thirty thousandpounds in the Funds. That is all. Goodbye, LadyBracknell. So pleased to have seen you.

　　Lady Bracknell. [Sitting down again.] Amoment, Mr. Worthing. A hundred and thirty thousandpounds! And in the Funds! Miss Cardew seems to me amost attractive young lady, now that I look at her. Fewgirls of the present day have any really solid qualities, any ofthe qualities that last, and improve with time. We live, Iregret to say, in an age of surfaces. [ToCecily.] Come over here, dear. [Cecilygoes across.] Pretty child! your dress is sadly simple, andyour hair seems almost as Nature might have left it. But wecan soon alter all that. A thoroughly experienced Frenchmaid produces a really marvellous result in a very brief space oftime. I remember recommending one to young Lady Lancing,and after three months her own husband did not know her.

　　Jack. And after six months nobody knew her.

　　Lady Bracknell. [Glares at Jack for a fewmoments. Then bends, with a practised smile, toCecily.] Kindly turn round, sweet child. [Cecily turns completely round.] No, the side viewis what I want. [Cecily presents her profile.] Yes, quite as I expected. There are distinct socialpossibilities in your profile. The two weak points in ourage are its want of principle and its want of profile. Thechin a little higher, dear. Style largely depends on theway the chin is worn. They are worn very high, just atpresent. Algernon!

　　Algernon. Yes, Aunt Augusta!

　　Lady Bracknell. There are distinct socialpossibilities in Miss Cardew’s profile.

　　Algernon. Cecily is the sweetest, dearest,prettiest girl in the whole world. And I don’t caretwopence about social possibilities.

　　Lady Bracknell. Never speak disrespectfully ofSociety, Algernon. Only people who can’t get into itdo that. [To Cecily.] Dear child, of courseyou know that Algernon has nothing but his debts to dependupon. But I do not approve of mercenary marriages. When I married Lord Bracknell I had no fortune of any kind. But I never dreamed for a moment of allowing that to stand in myway. Well, I suppose I must give my consent.

　　Algernon. Thank you, Aunt Augusta.

　　Lady Bracknell. Cecily, you may kiss me!

　　Cecily. [Kisses her.] Thank you, LadyBracknell.

　　Lady Bracknell. You may also address me as AuntAugusta for the future.

　　Cecily. Thank you, Aunt Augusta.

　　Lady Bracknell. The marriage, I think, had bettertake place quite soon.

　　Algernon. Thank you, Aunt Augusta.

　　Cecily. Thank you, Aunt Augusta.

　　Lady Bracknell. To speak frankly, I am not infavour of long engagements. They give people theopportunity of finding out each other’s character beforemarriage, which I think is never advisable.

　　Jack. I beg your pardon for interrupting you,Lady Bracknell, but this engagement is quite out of thequestion. I am Miss Cardew’s guardian, and she cannotmarry without my consent until she comes of age. Thatconsent I absolutely decline to give.

　　Lady Bracknell. Upon what grounds may Iask? Algernon is an extremely, I may almost say anostentatiously, eligible young man. He has nothing, but helooks everything. What more can one desire?

　　Jack. It pains me very much to have to speakfrankly to you, Lady Bracknell, about your nephew, but the factis that I do not approve at all of his moral character. Isuspect him of being untruthful. [Algernon andCecily look at him in indignant amazement.]

　　Lady Bracknell. Untruthful! My nephewAlgernon? Impossible! He is an Oxonian.

　　Jack. I fear there can be no possible doubt aboutthe matter. This afternoon during my temporary absence inLondon on an important question of romance, he obtained admissionto my house by means of the false pretence of being mybrother. Under an assumed name he drank, I’ve justbeen informed by my butler, an entire pint bottle of myPerrier-Jouet, Brut, ’89; wine I was specially reservingfor myself. Continuing his disgraceful deception, hesucceeded in the course of the afternoon in alienating theaffections of my only ward. He subsequently stayed to tea,and devoured every single muffin. And what makes hisconduct all the more heartless is, that he was perfectly wellaware from the first that I have no brother, that I never had abrother, and that I don’t intend to have a brother, noteven of any kind. I distinctly told him so myself yesterdayafternoon.

　　Lady Bracknell. Ahem! Mr. Worthing, aftercareful consideration I have decided entirely to overlook mynephew’s conduct to you.

　　Jack. That is very generous of you, LadyBracknell. My own decision, however, is unalterable. I decline to give my consent.

　　Lady Bracknell. [To Cecily.] Comehere, sweet child. [Cecily goes over.] How oldare you, dear?

　　Cecily. Well, I am really only eighteen, but Ialways admit to twenty when I go to evening parties.

　　Lady Bracknell. You are perfectly right in makingsome slight alteration. Indeed, no woman should ever bequite accurate about her age. It looks so calculating . . .[In a meditative manner.] Eighteen, but admitting to twentyat evening parties. Well, it will not be very long beforeyou are of age and free from the restraints of tutelage. SoI don’t think your guardian’s consent is, after all,a matter of any importance.

　　Jack. Pray excuse me, Lady Bracknell, forinterrupting you again, but it is only fair to tell you thataccording to the terms of her grandfather’s will MissCardew does not come legally of age till she is thirty-five.

　　Lady Bracknell. That does not seem to me to be agrave objection. Thirty-five is a very attractiveage. London society is full of women of the very highestbirth who have, of their own free choice, remained thirty-fivefor years. Lady Dumbleton is an instance in point. Tomy own knowledge she has been thirty-five ever since she arrivedat the age of forty, which was many years ago now. I see noreason why our dear Cecily should not be even still moreattractive at the age you mention than she is at present. There will be a large accumulation of property.

　　Cecily. Algy, could you wait for me till I wasthirty-five?

　　Algernon. Of course I could, Cecily. Youknow I could.

　　Cecily. Yes, I felt it instinctively, but Icouldn’t wait all that time. I hate waiting even fiveminutes for anybody. It always makes me rather cross. I am not punctual myself, I know, but I do like punctuality inothers, and waiting, even to be married, is quite out of thequestion.

　　Algernon. Then what is to be done, Cecily?

　　Cecily. I don’t know, Mr. Moncrieff.

　　Lady Bracknell. My dear Mr. Worthing, as MissCardew states positively that she cannot wait till she isthirty-five—a remark which I am bound to say seems to me toshow a somewhat impatient nature—I would beg of you toreconsider your decision.

　　Jack. But my dear Lady Bracknell, the matter isentirely in your own hands. The moment you consent to mymarriage with Gwendolen, I will most gladly allow your nephew toform an alliance with my ward.

　　Lady Bracknell. [Rising and drawing herselfup.] You must be quite aware that what you propose is outof the question.

　　Jack. Then a passionate celibacy is all that anyof us can look forward to.

　　Lady Bracknell. That is not the destiny I proposefor Gwendolen. Algernon, of course, can choose forhimself. [Pulls out her watch.] Come, dear,[Gwendolen rises] we have already missed five, if not six,trains. To miss any more might expose us to comment on theplatform.

　　[Enter Dr. Chasuble.]

　　Chasuble. Everything is quite ready for thechristenings.

　　Lady Bracknell. The christenings, sir! Isnot that somewhat premature?

　　Chasuble. [Looking rather puzzled, and pointingto Jack and Algernon.] Both these gentlemenhave expressed a desire for immediate baptism.

　　Lady Bracknell. At their age? The idea isgrotesque and irreligious! Algernon, I forbid you to bebaptized. I will not hear of such excesses. LordBracknell would be highly displeased if he learned that that wasthe way in which you wasted your time and money.

　　Chasuble. Am I to understand then that there areto be no christenings at all this afternoon?

　　Jack.nbsp; I don’t think that, as things arenow, it would be of much practical value to either of us, Dr.Chasuble.

　　Chasuble. I am grieved to hear such sentimentsfrom you, Mr. Worthing. They savour of the heretical viewsof the Anabaptists, views that I have completely refuted in fourof my unpublished sermons. However, as your present moodseems to be one peculiarly secular, I will return to the churchat once. Indeed, I have just been informed by thepew-opener that for the last hour and a half Miss Prism has beenwaiting for me in the vestry.

　　Lady Bracknell. [Starting.] MissPrism! Did I hear you mention a Miss Prism?

　　Chasuble. Yes, Lady Bracknell. I am on myway to join her.

　　Lady Bracknell. Pray allow me to detain you for amoment. This matter may prove to be one of vital importanceto Lord Bracknell and myself. Is this Miss Prism a femaleof repellent aspect, remotely connected with education?

　　Chasuble. [Somewhat indignantly.] She isthe most cultivated of ladies, and the very picture ofrespectability.

　　Lady Bracknell. It is obviously the sameperson. May I ask what position she holds in yourhousehold?

　　Chasuble. [Severely.] I am a celibate,madam.

　　Jack. [Interposing.] Miss Prism, LadyBracknell, has been for the last three years Miss Cardew’sesteemed governess and valued companion.

　　Lady Bracknell. In spite of what I hear of her, Imust see her at once. Let her be sent for.

　　Chasuble. [Looking off.] She approaches;she is nigh.

　　[Enter Miss Prism hurriedly.]

　　Miss Prism. I was told you expected me in thevestry, dear Canon. I have been waiting for you there foran hour and three-quarters. [Catches sight of LadyBracknell, who has fixed her with a stony glare. Miss Prism grows pale and quails. She looksanxiously round as if desirous to escape.]

　　Lady Bracknell. [In a severe, judicialvoice.] Prism! [Miss Prism bows her head inshame.] Come here, Prism! [Miss Prismapproaches in a humble manner.] Prism! Where is thatbaby? [General consternation. The Canon startsback in horror. Algernon and Jack pretend tobe anxious to shield Cecily and Gwendolen fromhearing the details of a terrible public scandal.] Twenty-eight years ago, Prism, you left Lord Bracknell’shouse, Number 104, Upper Grosvenor Street, in charge of aperambulator that contained a baby of the male sex. Younever returned. A few weeks later, through the elaborateinvestigations of the Metropolitan police, the perambulator wasdiscovered at midnight, standing by itself in a remote corner ofBayswater. It contained the manuscript of a three-volumenovel of more than usually revolting sentimentality. [Miss Prism starts in involuntary indignation.] Butthe baby was not there! [Every one looks at MissPrism.] Prism! Where is that baby? [Apause.]

　　Miss Prism. Lady Bracknell, I admit with shamethat I do not know. I only wish I did. The plainfacts of the case are these. On the morning of the day youmention, a day that is for ever branded on my memory, I preparedas usual to take the baby out in its perambulator. I hadalso with me a somewhat old, but capacious hand-bag in which Ihad intended to place the manuscript of a work of fiction that Ihad written during my few unoccupied hours. In a moment ofmental abstraction, for which I never can forgive myself, Ideposited the manuscript in the basinette, and placed the baby inthe hand-bag.

　　Jack. [Who has been listening attentively.] But where did you deposit the hand-bag?

　　Miss Prism. Do not ask me, Mr. Worthing.

　　Jack. Miss Prism, this is a matter of no smallimportance to me. I insist on knowing where you depositedthe hand-bag that contained that infant.

　　Miss Prism. I left it in the cloak-room of one ofthe larger railway stations in London.

　　Jack. What railway station?

　　Miss Prism. [Quite crushed.] Victoria. The Brighton line. [Sinks into achair.]

　　Jack. I must retire to my room for amoment. Gwendolen, wait here for me.

　　Gwendolen. If you are not too long, I will waithere for you all my life. [Exit Jack in greatexcitement.]

　　Chasuble. What do you think this means, LadyBracknell?

　　Lady Bracknell. I dare not even suspect, Dr.Chasuble. I need hardly tell you that in families of highposition strange coincidences are not supposed to occur. They are hardly considered the thing.

　　[Noises heard overhead as if some one was throwing trunksabout. Every one looks up.]

　　Cecily. Uncle Jack seems strangely agitated.

　　Chasuble. Your guardian has a very emotionalnature.

　　Lady Bracknell. This noise is extremelyunpleasant. It sounds as if he was having anargument. I dislike arguments of any kind. They arealways vulgar, and often convincing.

　　Chasuble. [Looking up.] It has stoppednow. [The noise is redoubled.]

　　Lady Bracknell. I wish he would arrive at someconclusion.

　　Gwendolen. This suspense is terrible. Ihope it will last. [Enter Jack with a hand-bag ofblack leather in his hand.]

　　Jack. [Rushing over to Miss Prism.] Is this the hand-bag, Miss Prism? Examine it carefullybefore you speak. The happiness of more than one lifedepends on your answer.

　　Miss Prism. [Calmly.] It seems to bemine. Yes, here is the injury it received through theupsetting of a Gower Street omnibus in younger and happierdays. Here is the stain on the lining caused by theexplosion of a temperance beverage, an incident that occurred atLeamington. And here, on the lock, are my initials. Ihad forgotten that in an extravagant mood I had had them placedthere. The bag is undoubtedly mine. I am delighted tohave it so unexpectedly restored to me. It has been a greatinconvenience being without it all these years.

　　Jack. [In a pathetic voice.] Miss Prism,more is restored to you than this hand-bag. I was the babyyou placed in it.

　　Miss Prism. [Amazed.] You?

　　Jack. [Embracing her.] Yes . . .mother!

　　Miss Prism. [Recoiling in indignantastonishment.] Mr. Worthing! I am unmarried!

　　Jack. Unmarried! I do not deny that is aserious blow. But after all, who has the right to cast astone against one who has suffered? Cannot repentance wipeout an act of folly? Why should there be one law for men,and another for women? Mother, I forgive you. [Triesto embrace her again.]

　　Miss Prism. [Still more indignant.] Mr.Worthing, there is some error. [Pointing to LadyBracknell.] There is the lady who can tell you who youreally are.

　　Jack. [After a pause.] Lady Bracknell, Ihate to seem inquisitive, but would you kindly inform me who Iam?

　　Lady Bracknell. I am afraid that the news I haveto give you will not altogether please you. You are the sonof my poor sister, Mrs. Moncrieff, and consequentlyAlgernon’s elder brother.

　　Jack. Algy’s elder brother! Then Ihave a brother after all. I knew I had a brother! Ialways said I had a brother! Cecily,—how could youhave ever doubted that I had a brother? [Seizes hold ofAlgernon.] Dr. Chasuble, my unfortunatebrother. Miss Prism, my unfortunate brother. Gwendolen, my unfortunate brother. Algy, you youngscoundrel, you will have to treat me with more respect in thefuture. You have never behaved to me like a brother in allyour life.

　　Algernon. Well, not till to-day, old boy, Iadmit. I did my best, however, though I was out ofpractice.

　　[Shakes hands.]

　　Gwendolen. [To Jack.] My own! But what own are you? What is your Christian name, now thatyou have become some one else?

　　Jack. Good heavens! . . . I had quite forgottenthat point. Your decision on the subject of my name isirrevocable, I suppose?

　　Gwendolen. I never change, except in myaffections.

　　Cecily. What a noble nature you have,Gwendolen!

　　Jack. Then the question had better be cleared upat once. Aunt Augusta, a moment. At the time whenMiss Prism left me in the hand-bag, had I been christenedalready?

　　Lady Bracknell. Every luxury that money couldbuy, including christening, had been lavished on you by your fondand doting parents.

　　Jack. Then I was christened! That issettled. Now, what name was I given? Let me know theworst.

　　Lady Bracknell. Being the eldest son you werenaturally christened after your father.

　　Jack. [Irritably.] Yes, but what was myfather’s Christian name?

　　Lady Bracknell. [Meditatively.] I cannot atthe present moment recall what the General’s Christian namewas. But I have no doubt he had one. He waseccentric, I admit. But only in later years. And thatwas the result of the Indian climate, and marriage, andindigestion, and other things of that kind.

　　Jack. Algy! Can’t you recollect whatour father’s Christian name was?

　　Algernon. My dear boy, we were never even onspeaking terms. He died before I was a year old.

　　Jack. His name would appear in the Army Lists ofthe period, I suppose, Aunt Augusta?

　　Lady Bracknell. The General was essentially a manof peace, except in his domestic life. But I have no doubthis name would appear in any military directory.

　　Jack. The Army Lists of the last forty years arehere. These delightful records should have been my constantstudy. [Rushes to bookcase and tears the books out.] M. Generals . . . Mallam, Maxbohm, Magley, what ghastly namesthey have—Markby, Migsby, Mobbs, Moncrieff! Lieutenant 1840, Captain, Lieutenant-Colonel, Colonel, General1869, Christian names, Ernest John. [Puts book very quietlydown and speaks quite calmly.] I always told you,Gwendolen, my name was Ernest, didn’t I? Well, it isErnest after all. I mean it naturally is Ernest.

　　Lady Bracknell. Yes, I remember now that theGeneral was called Ernest, I knew I had some particular reasonfor disliking the name.

　　Gwendolen. Ernest! My own Ernest! Ifelt from the first that you could have no other name!

　　Jack. Gwendolen, it is a terrible thing for a manto find out suddenly that all his life he has been speakingnothing but the truth. Can you forgive me?

　　Gwendolen. I can. For I feel that you aresure to change.

　　Jack. My own one!

　　Chasuble. [To Miss Prism.] Lætitia! [Embraces her]

　　Miss Prism. [Enthusiastically.] Frederick! At last!

　　Algernon. Cecily! [Embraces her.] Atlast!

　　Jack. Gwendolen! [Embraces her.] Atlast!

　　Lady Bracknell. My nephew, you seem to bedisplaying signs of triviality.

　　Jack. On the contrary, Aunt Augusta, I’venow realised for the first time in my life the vital Importanceof Being Earnest.

　　TABLEAU