An Ideal Husband

Your usual, m'Lord.

HE GROANS

Good morning, m'Lord.

HE GROANS

The morning paper, m'Lord.

Mmm...

"Sir Robert Chiltern, a rising star in Parliament, tonight hosts a party

"that promises to be the highlight of the social calendar,

"with his wife, Lady Gertrude, who is herself a leading figure

"in women's politics. They represent what is best in English public life

"and is a noble contrast to the lax morality

"so common amongst foreign politicians."

They will never say that about me, will they, Phipps?

I sincerely hope not, sir.

Bit of a busy day. Distressingly little time for sloth or idleness.

-Sorry, sir.

-Not entirely your fault. Not this time.

Thank you, m'Lord.

HE YAWNS

-Good morning, Tommy.

-Lady Chiltern.

I very much look forward to this evening.

-Miss Mabel.

-Tommy.

I hope you'll make our appointment, I've something to say to you.

Good day, ladies.

-When he wants to be romantic, he talks to one like a doctor.

-Ha-ha!

Till tonight!

Miss Mabel.

Lord Goring.

Lord Goring?

Countess, good morning.

Aren't you going to congratulate me?

Congratulations.

-Aren't you going to ask why?

-Why?

I've decided to marry.

My God! Who to?

That is still to be decided.

Good morning, dear Gertrude.

Lady Markby.

Allow me to introduce my friend, Mrs Cheveley.

How do you do?

Mrs Cheveley and I have met before.

Of course.

Gertrude. And to think you married Sir Robert Chiltern.

I was hoping to meet your husband.

Really?

Yes. But I return to Vienna on Friday.

Oh, dear, what a shame.

Well, perhaps I might bring her this evening?

Yes, by all means.

What can I say? I'd be delighted.

We'll see you tonight.

See you tonight.

You see, Phipps, fashion is what one wears oneself.

What is unfashionable

is what other people wear.

Yes, m'Lord.

People are dreadful. The only society is oneself.

Yes, m'Lord.

To love oneself...

is the beginning of a lifelong romance.

Yes, m'Lord.

Their Graces,

the Duke and Duchess of Berwick.

Lord Windermere.

Countess Basildon.

..It is widely agreed the last truly decent man in London.

You're a very personable man, with a most attractive personality.

You've brought into British politics an honesty, an integrity, a finer...

A nobler atmosphere. A finer attitude and higher ideals.

Don't believe everything in newspapers.

In the old days, we had the rack. Nowadays, we have the press.

Your paper being the exception, Sir Edward.

Where truth shines out like a beacon and lies run vainly for the shadows.

Bravo. But may I ask, do I detect in your conversation a lyricism

not entirely uncommon in your husband's speeches?

If you are suggesting that my position owes anything to my wife,

you are mistaken. It owes everything to her.

Make it known, for without her, I am entirely unexceptional.

Without her love,

I'm nothing.

All I know is, a serious shake-up in the Government looks inevitable.

The Prime Minister was asking about you.

Really? He's afraid you'll take his job!

< Lady Markby. Mrs Cheveley.

If I had a jewel for every staring eye!

I'm glad to say, Lady Markby, you evidently do.

Excuse me. Ah, chere Madame, quelle surprise!

Lady Markby. I have not seen you since Berlin.

Five years ago.

You are younger and more beautiful. How do you do it?

By only talking to charming people like yourself.

Mrs Cheveley. What do we know about her?

Very influential in Vienna. A force to be reckoned with.

Are you staying long?

It depends on the weather and the cooking

-and on your brother.

-Sir Robert's been dying to meet you.

Everyone is. Our attaches in Vienna write to us about nothing else.

An acquaintance that begins with a compliment becomes a friendship.

-You've met my sister.

-Yes, indeed.

My dear child, allow me to introduce you to the Vicounte de Nanjac.

Oh.

You've a beautiful house.

We're very happy here.

-I'd so love to see it.

-Allow me.

Thank you.

< Lord Goring.

Good evening, young lady.

What are you doing here? Wasting your life, as usual.

You should be in bed. You keep too late hours.

I heard you were dancing till four.

Good evening, Father.

Can't make out how you stand London. Nobodies talking about nothing.

Talking about nothing is the only thing I know anything about.

That's a paradox. I hate paradoxes.

So do I, Father. Everyone one meets

is a paradox. Makes society so obvious, hmm?

Do you understand what you say?

Yes, if I listen attentively. HE SHUDDERS

Oh, conceited young puppy!

I have it on good authority that you have Corots.

Really? Whose?

Baron Arnheim.

-Did you know the Baron well?

-Intimately. Did you?

-At one time.

-Wonderful man, wasn't he?

-Remarkable.

A pity he never wrote his memoirs.

They would have been most interesting.

Allow me to introduce the idlest man in London.

-Good evening, Lord Goring.

-You've met?

I did not think you'd remember me, Mrs...Cheveley.

My memory's under admirable control.

The Indian Ambassador.

Excuse me.

Are you not just a little bit pleased to see me?

Possibly even less than that.

Should you wish to avoid me, I'll be staying at Claridge's until Friday.

-THEY CHUCKLE

-Are you still a bachelor?

-Resolutely so.

-He's the result of Boodle's Club.

He reflects every credit on it.

Thank you.

And now, Sir Robert, I have something to say to you.

You'll find me an eager audience.

I'm so glad. I want to talk to you about

a great political and financial scheme,

about this Argentine canal company, in fact.

What a tedious, practical subject to talk about.

I like those. What I don't like are tedious, practical people.

I know you are interested in international canal schemes.

Yes.

But the Suez Canal is a very great and splendid undertaking.

It gave us a direct route to India.

This Argentine scheme is a stock-exchange swindle.

It is a brilliant, daring speculation.

Believe me, Mrs Cheveley, it is a swindle.

Let us call things by their proper names. It makes matters simpler.

I hope you've not invested in it. You're too clever to have done that.

I have invested very largely in it.

Who advised you?

Your old friend and mine - Baron Arnheim.

It was one of the last things he said.

Ah.

The future of the canal depends on

the attitude of Her Majesty's Government.

And...

I'll be presenting my report to the House of Commons on Thursday night.

I can tell you now that I will be condemning the scheme

in no uncertain terms.

You must not. In your interests, to say nothing of mine, you must not.

My dear Mrs Cheveley, what do you mean?

Amend that report to state that the canal

will be of great international value.

Will you do that for me?

You cannot be serious.

I am quite serious.

If you do what I ask, I will pay you very handsomely.

Pay me?

You are a man of the world and you have your price. Everybody has.

I will call your carriage for you. You have lived so long abroad

that you don't realise that I am an English gentleman.

I realise you're a man whose past is less perfect than his reputation.

What are you saying?

I know the real origin of your wealth, and I have got your letter.

You are very late.

-Miss me?

-Awfully.

Sorry I wasn't later. I like being missed.

-How very selfish.

-I am very selfish.

You're always telling me about your bad qualities.

I haven't told you the half of them.

Are they very bad?

Quite dreadful. When I think of them at night, I go to sleep at once.

I like your bad qualities and I'd not have you part with a single one.

This shows your admirable good taste.

May I escort you to the music room?

I'd be delighted.

-As, indeed, would I.

-Coming?

Not if there's any music going on.

The music is in German, so you would not understand it.

Quite so, quite so.

-Arthur!

-Gertrude, good evening.

You like political parties?

I adore them. They're the only place where people don't talk politics.

The affair to which you allude was no more than a speculation.

A swindle. Call things by their proper names. It makes it simpler.

I'll sell you that letter back,

and the price is your public support of the Argentine scheme.

I cannot do what you ask me.

You're standing on the edge of a precipice. Supposing you refuse?

What then?

Suppose I pay a visit to a newspaper office and give them this scandal.

Think of the delight they'd have in tearing you down.

Think of... Sir Edward?

My dear Mrs Cheveley.

I hope we have the opportunity to meet up. I enjoy the cut and thrust

of continental politics.

I shall make it a priority.

Sir Robert.

It is infamous what you propose. Infamous.

Oh, no, it is the game of life, Sir Robert. As we all have to play it.

Sooner or later.

What a charming house. A delightful evening.

I'm so glad.

I'm so glad you met my husband.

Though...

I confess to some curiosity as to the matter of your conversation.

Your carriage is waiting.

Thanks. Another time. Good evening.

Good evening.

Will you see me out, Sir Robert?

Now that we have the same interests at heart, we'll be great friends.

Certainly.

Let me have more time to consider your proposal.

There is nothing to consider.

Support the scheme and I will return the letter.

Scandals used to lend charm to a man,

nowadays they crush him. Yours is a very nasty scandal.

You would be hounded out of public life. You'd disappear completely.

My God!

What brought you into my life?

Circumstances. At some point,

we all have to pay for what we do. You have to pay now.

(I will give you any sum of money you want.)

Even you are not rich enough to buy back your past.

No man is.

Father, this is not my day for talking seriously.

-What do you mean?

-I talk seriously on the first Tuesday of the month,

between noon and three.

Well, make it Tuesday, sir.

That is before noon, Father.

I'm sorry, but my doctor said specifically.

You are 36.

Shh! Father!

I only admit to 32.

-You are 36, you must get a wife.

-Wife?

HE LAUGHS

A shade lacklustre this morning, Chiltern.

Mind on other matters, I shouldn't wonder.

Mrs Cheveley came by the office last night.

Really?

Yes.

Wanted me to write a piece about this Argentine thing.

Quite interesting, really. Mentioned you.

Did she?

She did, indeed.

What did she say?

Outlined the virtues of the scheme. She probably has shares in it.

What did she say about me?

About your speech on it. Said I'd be surprised. Wouldn't say what.

Can I take it you've changed your position?

I wonder what kind of a woman she is.

Who?

Mrs Cheveley.

Hmm, smallish.

The question remains, where to from there, hmm?

To the Hartlocks, then the Basildons...

Or should we go straight to the ball?

I almost wish I were you sometimes.

I almost wish you were too.

Except that you'd probably do something useful, that'd never do.

You could always get married.

It's the 'always' bit that alarms me.

I could see that he was about to do it again.

Poor Mr Trafford.

-It sounds quite serious.

-Oh, it is.

He proposed to me in broad daylight, in front of the statue of Achilles.

The things that go on in front of that are quite appalling!

-The police should interfere.

-Ahem...

It may not suit a modern girl like you,

but there is one effective way

to put a stop to his proposals.

-Which is?

-Accept one of them.

Oh, no!

Ladies!

By the way, have you been talking to my father?

Should I?

Certainly not.

He suggested that I model myself on you.

Your father has exquisite taste and rare judgement.

Hard work, probity, and a good woman.

He forgot that you took the last good woman. Took her right out of my arms.

What is that saying about the sea and plenty of fish in it?

Yes, but I couldn't possibly marry a fish.

I'd be sure to land an old trout.

I never change, except in my affection.

What a noble nature you have.

LAUGHTER

You told me yesterday.

The information I received was prejudiced.

Or, at any rate, misinformed.

But I...

There may be some benefit to the scheme.

Benefit?

To whom?

This has nothing to do with Mrs Cheveley, does it?

LAUGHTER

On the contrary. I've now realised, for the first time in my life, >

the vital importance of being earnest. >

LAUGHTER

Robert,

you are telling me the whole truth?

Why do you ask me such a question?

Why do you not answer it?

APPLAUSE

CHEERING

Ladies and gentlemen,

I have enjoyed this evening immensely...

Robert,

is there in your life any...

..any secret, any...

indiscretion?

..Which persuades me >

that you think as highly of the play as I do.

-Ha-ha!

-You must tell me at once.

There is nothing in my past life that you might not know.

APPLAUSE AND CHEERING

I was sure of it, my darling.

I was sure of it.

UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYS

I found it a perfectly charming evening, of course I did.

And yours was a perfectly charming performance.

The costumes were delightful. But for me, it was the acting.

Would you excuse me a moment?

-Miss Mabel?

-Good evening, Lord Goring.

-Shouldn't you be in bed?

-Lord Goring!

My father is always advising me to go to bed.

I always pass on good advice.

It's very kind of you to offer.

Don't mention it.

The role of elder brother is being adequately performed by my brother.

Oh, really?

Yes. Charming and delightful performance it is, too.

You ought to go to bed straightaway.

You're ordering me around...

It is most courageous of you.

Especially as I'm not going to bed for hours.

Darling, you will write, won't you, to Mrs Cheveley?

Tell her that you cannot support her scheme.

I might see her. Perhaps that would be better.

Oh, no. You must never see her again.

I know this woman. We were at school together.

I didn't trust her then and I don't now.

She must know at once that she has been mistaken in you.

All your life, you have stood apart from others.

To the world, as to myself,

you have been an ideal. Always.

Be that ideal still.

Claridge's Hotel. No answer.

Sir.

Oh, I love you, Robert.

Oh, love me.

Love me, Gertrude.

Love me always.

NEIGHING

< Oi!

Madam.

What is it that brings you back to London? Business or pleasure?

I have some business with Sir Robert Chiltern, which is a great pleasure.

-And what brings you here tonight?

-I came because you asked me to.

-And you were curious?

-I suppose.

-Why did you ask me?

-I was curious to see if you'd come.

-And you did.

-You are quite as wilful as you used to be.

Far more. I have greatly improved, I have had more experience.

Too much experience can be very dangerous, Mrs Cheveley.

-Call me Laura.

-I don't like the name.

-You used to adore it.

-Yes, that is why.

It was so nearly Laura Goring.

-It has a certain ring, don't you agree?

-Mmm.

We were quite well suited.

You were poor, I was rich, it must have suited you very well.

Until you met the Baron. He was richer, that suited you better.

Have you forgiven me yet?

It's been so long that I'd all but forgotten you.

I'm afraid I really must go. I have an extremely pressing engagement.

Really? As you know, I hate to stand between a man and his affairs.

NEIGHING AND CLATTER OF HORSES' HOOVES

Come on, Bunbury!

I can't believe it.

You are a deserter, sir.

I didn't say I would marry, I was merely debating its virtues.

Short debate, sir.

We're a dying breed. We should stick together.

Would you excuse me, gentlemen? Play the next hand without me.

'And now I think it's time you knew the truth.'

That all these riches, this wondrous luxury...

..amounts, finally, to nothing.

And that power

over other men

is the only thing worth having.

And this is what I call the philosophy of power.

Gospel of gold.

So now the question arises,

how do you become powerful?

I mean you, personally powerful... Cigar?

Yes, thank you.

The answer is simple.

The answer is information.

Information is the modern commodity

that can shake the world.

And I happen to know it's well within your grasp.

And you believed what he said?

Certainly. I believed it then and I believe it now.

You've never been poor.

You've never known ambition.

Go on.

Lord Radley was a Cabinet Minister

and the Baron knew I was his personal secretary.

One night, as usual, I was the last to leave the office.

Later that evening,

I wrote the Baron a letter containing confidential information.

Highly valuable information,

regarding the financing of the Suez Canal.

A Cabinet secret?

Indeed.

The Baron made for himself three quarters of a million pounds.

And you?

I received from the Baron £110,000.

You were worth more, Robert.

No. No, no, no.

I got exactly what I wanted.

I entered straight into Parliament, and I've...

never looked back.

Is it fair that some act of youthful folly is brought up against me now?

Is it fair?

Life is not fair. Perhaps it's a good thing for most of us that it's not.

What does Gertrude make of all this?

Robert?

My dear Robert, secrets from other people's wives

are a necessary luxury in modern life.

But no man should have a secret from his own wife.

She will find out.

If I told her, I'd lose the love of the woman I worship.

I couldn't tell her, but it did strike me that perhaps you might.

Go on.

Perhaps you might...talk with her?

Oh, really?

Not to tell her.

But just to talk with her.

I see.

It's just that Gertrude can be a little hard-headed.

You are her oldest, closest friend, I thought talking with you might...

-Soften her head?

-Hmm.

Well, it has been known.

Thank you, Lady Chiltern, that was most inspiring.

Oh, I'm so glad.

Wonderful speech.

I'm delighted to find you showing such interest in women's politics.

Ahem... Yes, very keen. I'm afraid I had a late night last night.

So I gather. I'm glad to see you.

-Are you?

-Yes. I want to talk about Robert.

Really?

He seems a little distracted, a little anxious.

-Yes.

-You've noticed it too?

I suppose... Yes. In a way.

The life that he's chosen,

by its own nature, holds innumerable stresses. Full of compromises.

-Compromises?

-Yes.

Once a man has set his heart and soul on getting to a certain point,

if he has to climb the crag, he has to climb the crag.

And if he has to walk in the mire...

Well?

He has to walk in the mire.

I'm talking in general terms, and on a subject about which I know nothing.

I thought those are your favourite subjects.

Yes, indeed.

Indeed.

-Go on.

-Oh, yes. No, um...

Suppose a public figure, er, Lord Merton or my father, or even Robert,

had written some foolish letter.

What do you mean by a foolish letter?

Well, a letter gravely compromising one's position.

It's an imaginary case, of course.

I cannot help but feel, Arthur,

that you are wanting to tell me something.

What I really want to say, dear Gertrude, is...

that if, for any reason, you are ever in trouble,

come to me at once and know that I will help you in every way I can.

Lord Goring,

you are talking quite seriously.

-Forgive me, it won't occur again.

-No, I like you to be serious.

Gertrude, please don't say such dreadful things to Lord Goring.

Seriousness would be very unbecoming to him.

Good morning. Pray be as trivial as you can.

I'd like to, but I'm out of practice this morning. Besides, I ought to go.

-Oh. Will you be there tonight?

-I have received no invitation.

You have now. I'm sorry, Mabel, I'm not in the mood for modern art.

You don't mind, do you, if Arthur escorts you in my place?

As long as he's not too serious, for I've observed a worrying trend.

I swear to be utterly trivial and never to keep my word.

Then I shall be delighted.

So shall I. Gertrude, thank you.

Remember what I said, won't you?

Yes, but I still don't know why you said it.

I hardly know myself. Goodbye, Miss Mabel.

Lord Goring?

Lord Goring?

What dreadful manners, leaving as I arrive. You were badly brought up.

-Hmm, I was.

-I wish I had brought you up.

-I'm sorry you didn't.

-It is too late now, I suppose?

I shouldn't think so for a moment.

So.

-So.

-SHE COUGHS

Till tonight, then.

Eight o'clock.

Eight o'clock.

So?

So.

"My dear Sir Robert, I must confess to being not a little disappointed

"to learn that my proposition held no interest for you.

"Perhaps I failed to present it in attractive or persuasive terms.

"Another time, perhaps. Yours sincerely, Laura Cheveley.

"PS - If I am in the neighbourhood,

"I may pay my respects to your charming wife.

"I wonder whether the matter would be of any interest to her?"

-Mrs Cheveley, won't you sit down?

-Thanks.

I can't help feeling that this disturbing new thing,

this higher education of women,

will deal a terrible blow to happy married life.

Men need higher education, so sadly.

They do. But such a scheme would be unpractical.

Man hasn't much capacity to develop. He's got as far as he can. Not far.

With regard to women, modern women understand everything, I'm told.

Except their husbands. That is the one thing they never understand.

And a very good thing too,

it might break up many a happy home if they did. Not yours, Gertrude.

You have married a perfect husband.

And now, dear ladies, I had better set forth.

I haven't time to be idling around here,

I should be idling around somewhere else very shortly.

I'll see myself out. No doubt you both have pleasant reminiscences

of your school days to talk over.

-Goodbye.

-Goodbye, my dear.

Wonderful woman, Lady Markby, isn't she?

Talks more and says less than anybody I ever met. Now, Gertrude...

Mrs Cheveley,

it is right to tell you that I wish you never to return to this house.

And never attempt to contact my husband.

-You have not changed a bit.

-I hope I never will.

-Life's taught you nothing?

-A person who was once guilty

of a dishonest action

may be guilty of it a second time and should be shunned.

Would you apply that rule to everyone?

Yes, without exception.

Then I am sorry for you. Very sorry for you.

I thank you for your sympathy,

but it is your departure I would prefer.

I don't mind your talking morality a bit.

Morality is the attitude we adopt towards people we dislike.

You dislike me. I'm aware of that. And I have always detested you.

Yet, I have come here to give you some advice.

I hold your husband in the hollow of my hand.

If you are wise, you'll make him do what I say.

How dare you class my husband with yourself?!

Leave my house! You are unfit to enter it.

Your house? A house bought with the price of dishonour?

Everything in which was paid for by fraud. Ask HIM about his fortune.

Get him to tell you how he sold to a stockbroker a Cabinet secret.

Learn from him to what you owe your position.

It is not true.

Robert, tell her it is not true.

Go.

Go at once. You've done your worst now.

Dear Sir Robert, Lady Chiltern,

unless you meet my terms, you'll find the worst is yet to come.

You have until half past ten tonight.

Tell me it is not true.

-Let me explain.

-Tell me it is not true!

-Please.

-No...

-Don't touch me.

-Listen to me.

How could you do that, Robert?!

You've lied...to the whole world.

You will not lie to me.

Please, I must tell you.

Don't say anything.

You were, to me, something apart from common life.

A thing noble, pure.

The world seemed to me finer

because you were in it.

Goodness more real because you lived.

I'm sorry.

So very sorry.

I suppose I should go.

Should I?

Go.

Get out!

My second buttonhole. Much better. Do you know, Phipps,

a really well-made buttonhole

is the only link between art and nature.

Yes, m'Lord.

I don't think I quite like this one.

-Hmm?

-No.

Makes me look a little old. Makes me almost in the prime of life, eh?

I don't observe any alteration in your appearance.

You don't?

No, m'Lord.

Hmm. Very well.

BELL RINGS

Oh, God!

Father, how delightful to see you.

Take my cloak off.

-Is it really worthwhile, Father?

-Of course it is, sir.

I've recently made the resolution not to have visitors on Thursday,

between seven and nine.

Good. Can't stand interruption. No draught, I hope?

No, sir.

I feel a draught, sir.

So do I, sir. Why don't you go home?

I will come and see you tomorrow.

No, sir. I've called with a definite purpose.

I'll see it through, at all cost to my health or yours.

-Put my cloak down, sir.

-BELL RINGS

I hate seeing things through, Father,

especially through someone else's eyes.

I don't follow you.

You seem to follow me everywhere, Father.

(Oh, God.)

Good evening.

My dear Robert, I really am horribly busy tonight.

But, Arthur, I must speak with you.

Gertrude has discovered the truth?

Yes, I'm afraid she has.

Come in. But if you wouldn't mind waiting for a while,

I'm right in the middle of giving my performance of the attentive son.

Oh, I'm sorry.

So am I.

BELL RINGS

HE SIGHS

God!

"When you left this afternoon, my life fell apart.

"My love is in ruins.

"I need you, after all. I am coming to you now. Gertrude."

A lady's coming to see me. Show her into the drawing room. Understand?

Yes, m'Lord.

It's a matter of grave importance.

I understand.

No-one else is to be admitted. Say I'm not at home.

I understand.

Arthur?

Yes, Father.

BELL RINGS

Good evening, Phipps.

How nice to see you again, madam.

His Lordship is engaged with Lord Caversham.

How very filial.

His Lordship told me to ask you to wait in the drawing room for him.

His Lordship will come to you there.

He expects me?

Yes, madam.

Are you quite sure?

His Lordship's directions were very precise.

That lamp is far too glaring. Light some candles.

Certainly, madam.

Marriage is not about affection, sir.

It is a question of common sense.

Women who have common sense are always so plain, aren't they?

That's only hearsay.

Women don't have any common sense. That is a privilege of our sex.

Quite so. Men are so wonderfully self-sacrificing,

we never use it, do we, Father?

I use it, sir. I use nothing else.

Mmm. So my mother tells me.

It is the secret of her happiness.

What was that?

Nothing, Father. Nothing.

You are heartless. Very heartless.

I hope not, Father.

"When you left this afternoon,

"my life fell apart.

"I am coming to you now. Gertrude."

There we are, madam.

-Thank you.

-Thank you, madam.

BELL RINGS

BELL RINGS

His Lordship's not at home this evening.

-I see.

-I'm sorry, Lady Chiltern.

Not at all.

As you keep saying.

Is she in there?

Yes, m'Lord.

Oh, my dear fellow.

I'm sorry, Arthur. I didn't know where else to go.

Hmm?

I don't know what to do, Arthur.

Robert, last night, you were telling me how much Gertrude means to you.

How much you love her.

More than anything in the world.

There is a wide gulf between us now. I fear I shall never bridge it.

I fear she will never forgive me.

Surely there must be some sin in her past life, any sin,

weakness that might help her to understand yours.

She doesn't know weakness or temptation.

But she loves you. She cannot but forgive you.

I wish she could hear you, the regret that you feel about your past...

Regret?

Yes, regret. I feel certain that she'd pity you.

Perhaps at this moment, she is pitying you. Praying that

she might once again be in your arms.

God grant it. But I doubt it.

There is something else I need to tell you.

The debate on the Argentine canal is to begin at 10:30.

I have made up my mind what to say.

I've decided...

CHAIR SQUEAKS

What was that?

Nothing.

I heard a noise from next door.

No, you didn't.

CHAIR CREAKS

Is there someone there?

-Arthur?

-You're excited, unnerved.

There is no-one in that room. Now, sit down!

Do you give me your word of honour?

Yes!

Let me look for myself.

-Robert...

-If there is no-one there, why shouldn't I look?

There is someone in that room.

I apologise, but I must state she is entirely guiltless in this matter.

She is scheming, devious and deceitful.

-Pardon?

-You...

You are false as a friend and treacherous.

-Robert!

-Good evening, Lord Goring.

-Sir Robert.

-How do you explain her presence?

To be quite honest, I can't.

I take it you two planned this?

We have never planned anything!

Except marriage. You didn't forget we were engaged for three weeks?

Yes, but...

I find it hard to see

why you broke it off. You are entirely well suited.

I give you my word...

No, sir.

Oh, no, sir.

You have lied enough upon your word of honour.

DOOR CLOSES

I appear to have caused something of a commotion.

Good night, Sir Robert.

You've come here to sell me Robert Chiltern's letter.

To offer it to you on condition. How did you guess?

What is your price?

My price... I have arrived at the romantic stage.

When I saw you at the Chilterns',

I knew you were the only person I'd ever cared for.

If I've ever cared for anybody, Arthur.

So...

on the morning of the day

that you marry me, I will give you Robert's letter.

That is my offer.

Are you quite serious?

Yes. Quite serious.

My dear Mrs Cheveley...

HE CHUCKLES

..I'm afraid I shall make you a very bad husband.

I don't mind bad husbands, I've had two. They amuse me immensely.

Here's a chance to rise to great heights of self-sacrifice.

The rest of your life, you could spend

in contemplating your own perfection.

I do that as it is.

I am ready to sacrifice the greatest prize in my possession.

I'm honoured.

-Arthur?

-Hmm?

You loved me once, you asked me to be your wife.

Ask me again.

Ask me now.

Bonsoir.

My dear Mrs Cheveley.

My dear Lord Goring.

I'm going to give you some good advice.

Never give a woman anything she can't wear in the evening.

I'm sorry, but I don't seem able to stop myself. I'm going to tell you

that love, about which I admit I know so little,

love cannot be bought. It can only be given.

And I sense it is not in my power to give to you.

Nor is it in yours,

I suspect, at all.

Dear boy, you underestimate us both.

To give...

and not expect return, hmm?

That is what lies at the heart of love.

I fear, though, the notion is a stranger to us both.

And yet, if we are honest,

it is something we both long for,

something that it takes great courage to do.

Yes, that is our dark secret.

Your coming here tonight is the first whisper of it.

And for that, I admire you.

Give me the letter. SHE LAUGHS

Prove your affections to me and give me the letter.

And surrender my position of power?

The future of a great man is in your hands, Mrs Cheveley.

Crush him and your power dies,

as will any feeling I've ever had for you.

If you've ever loved me...

I did love you.

I know, I know.

But not that much.

I must admit I never thought you did.

Even so, I felt it worth a try.

I understand and respect you all the more. I take it you reject my offer?

I fear I must when, tempting as it seems,

in truth,

it is little more than blackmail.

-True.

-THEY BOTH LAUGH

-Gertrude.

-Mabel.

I remembered you were meeting Arthur.

At least somebody remembered.

You mean he's not here either?

Oh, strange.

Are you quite well?

Me? Yes, of course.

No, I'm not at all.

Could we talk?

Everything I've learned leads me to reject him for what he did. Yet...

And yet?

I have never known such joy as when I'm with him.

I've never felt so...

free as when I'm lying in his arms.

I'll look out for you at the Commons,

where at least I'll see your friend submit to my desires.

I wouldn't be too sure.

We know how he values his career.

I look forward to him proving you wrong.

I'd stake my shirt on it.

Your shirt?

I think I'd probably wager my entire wardrobe on his integrity.

What confidence. Would you stake your liberty?

My liberty?

I've had a charming little idea.

Now I consider it, I discover it to be a rather charming big idea.

Go on.

If he stands by his principles and condemns the scheme in question,

I'll give you his letter to dispose of as you choose.

But if, as I project,

he surrenders to my demands

and publicly supports the scheme, then...

-I'll give you my hand in marriage.

-Precisely.

To dispose of as you please.

As a betting man, you must concede there is a certain thrill to it.

Concede to how elegantly I've eased from proposal to proposition.

And with barely any loss of face. I'm most impressed, indeed.

We are creatures of compromise.

I await your response.

Perhaps you're less certain of your friend's true nature now.

Not at all. I accept your wager in all confidence.

-You do?

-I do.

Oh, Arthur,

isn't it remarkable how those two little words can quicken the heart?

Would you do something for me?

Hmm?

Accompany me to the Commons? There's an interesting debate there tonight.

The Prime Minister himself has taken an interest.

And I believe...

that its outcome will prove interesting to you. And to me.

Whatever it may be.

Hmm.

Damn!

The honourable member for Whitney.

Good evening, Chiltern.

Prime Minister.

I ask the President of the Board of Trade to what extent he believes

the projected Argentine canal merits

the nation's attention and support?

Mr Speaker...

..I believe this excellent scheme represents a genuine opportunity

to extend our trading roots

and to stamp our authority on a vital portion of the globe.

ALL: Hear, hear!

< Excellent speech.

Didn't expect to see you here.

Neither did I. I've developed a sudden interest in politics.

Married yet?

Ask me again in half an hour.

What?

Nothing.

-Arthur!

-Shh!

I beg to ask the undersecretary

to clarify his position in respect of this scheme!

ALL: Answer, sir.

Let me first of all thank the honourable member

for his articulate contribution to the debate.

Since I last addressed this House on the subject,

I have had the opportunity

to investigate this scheme more thoroughly

and to grasp fully the ramifications of our lending it support.

I have to inform the House...

that I was...

-mistaken...

-HE COUGHS

..in my original perceptions,

and that I have now taken a rather different view.

HE COUGHS LOUDLY

Ow! Ow!

Ow!

I must agree with my Right Honourable Friend

that this is indeed an excellent scheme.

A genuine opportunity.

An opportunity particularly if you happen to be a corrupt investor...

LAUGHTER AND SHOUTING

..corrupt investor, with nothing but self-interest at heart.

It is my conviction that this scheme never should have had

or should ever have any chance of success. It is a fraud!

Our involvement would be a political fraud of the worst possible kind.

This great nation

has long been a great commercial power.

It seems there exists a growing compulsion to use that power

merely to beget more power.

Money merely to beget more money.

Irrespective of the true cost to the nation's soul.

It is this sickness,

a kind of moral blindness, commerce without conscience,

which threatens to strike at the very soul of this nation!

The only remedy is to strike back, and now!

Hear, hear!

SHOUTING

Order!

As we stand...

As we stand at the end of this most eventful century,

it seems that we do, after all, have a genuine opportunity.

One honest chance to shed our...

sometimes imperfect past. To start again,

to step unshackled

into the next century, and to look our future squarely

and proudly in the face.

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

You must agree, it has been a romantic interlude.

You might even confess to some faint and secret regret at its outcome.

Huh!

I feel some relief that in the end, Sir Robert has come to no harm.

Really?

Oh, yes. I'm not quite as wicked as you suppose.

Mrs Cheveley?

And a lady must always honour her bets.

Come back with me, Arthur.

Come back to Vienna.

Bravo, Sir Robert. I underestimated you.

-Sorry if I spoiled your plans.

-Far more than you realise.

-That is some small satisfaction.

-Look, Robert...

I have nothing to say to you. Nor is there anything I wish to hear.

I hope that now you are content. That I didn't disappoint you.

Robert, I...

Let women make no more ideals of men,

or they may ruin other lives as completely as you.

You, whom I have loved so wildly, have surely ruined mine.

Robert...

I know there is no hope for us now.

I know you can never forgive me.

Poor man, I almost begin to feel sorry for him. >

Sorry?

Yes, I can't bear to see so upright a gentleman

being so shamefully deceived.

Deceived?

And on such positively pink paper.

What are you talking about?

"I need you after all, I'm coming to you now."

You stole Gertrude's letter?

Losing a man is scant cause for concern, but losing a man to her

is another matter. Robert should know, as he shall,

when the letter arrives at his office first thing in the morning.

You've got a good man there. You should try to hold on to him.

It occurs to me this whole business is really just about you and me.

Gertrude, I must speak with you.

Not now.

It's about that letter you wrote to me.

Come in the morning, I can't talk now.

Lord Goring?

Miss Mabel. About this evening, I...

-Congratulations.

-I beg your pardon?

I gather you are to be congratulated.

There's nothing I like more,

but I find the pleasure increased by knowing what for.

Haven't you heard? You're to be married.

-Your father says...

-Does he?

Yes, he does.

Did he tell you to who?

No. But when we saw you with Mrs Cheveley,

-we naturally assumed...

-Oh, did we?

Yes, we did.

The fact is, your assumptions

are presumptuous. You see,

I'm not sure that I've seen anything

I quite like the look of yet.

Oh, really?

Mmm, really.

In which case, I have something vitally important to say to you.

Oh?

To look at a thing is quite different from seeing a thing.

And one does not see anything until one sees its beauty.

Oh, really?

Yes. Really.

Ah, Mabel.

Do you have something you wish to say to me?

Erm...

No. No, I don't think so.

Ahem...

Then I don't wish to hear it. Good night.

-Good night.

-I'm sure Mr Trafford will have something to say to me.

I'm even surer...

I will be quite charmed to listen.

Damn!

HE SIGHS

It is a great nuisance.

I can't find anyone else to talk to,

and I'm so full of interesting information.

I feel like the latest edition of something or other.

Well, after some consideration,

there's so much to do, there's only one thing to be done.

There's a time in every son's life

when he must indeed follow his father's advice.

HE SIGHS

I shall go to bed at once.

I do hope we see you in the near future, Mrs Cheveley.

So do I. But I fear that for me, the future seems strangely uncertain.

What of the present?

As a very dear friend once said to me,

"To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance." Goodbye.

London will be the lesser for your leaving.

And sadly lacking in scandal.

Lady Markby, my personal favourite is shortly to unfold.

Consider it a parting gift.

Thank you, Mrs Cheveley.

May I see it?

Mmm.

So...that is what you were doing with that woman, Mrs Cheveley?

Mmm.

Oh... It certainly didn't look that way.

Yes, but there's a great deal of difference

between looking and seeing, isn't there, Miss Mabel?

Oh, dear Arthur.

What a good friend you are to him.

To us.

But we're not out of danger yet.

There's a popular saying about frying pans and fires,

but this time, you and I are to be roasted.

Oh, no, Arthur, I couldn't.

He should know the exact truth.

So you want me to tell him...what?

-That I intended a secret...

-Secret rendezvous, yes.

With a single man? At such an hour?

It's scandalous.

It's also the truth, and it may be our best option.

I couldn't possibly tell him.

-May I do it?

-Certainly not.

Give me your word that you never will.

But you are wrong.

I will give you my word.

That you will never tell me what, Lord Goring?

Robert.

What does this mean?

I meant to give it to you last night.

Last night?

Yes, when Gertrude sent it over, but you left in such a hurry.

So this letter is intended for me?

Well, of co...

Oh, my goodness.

You didn't think, you couldn't possibly think that...

The name, the, erm, the address on the envelope is yours.

She knew that when you left here, you'd come to me at once.

It stands to reason, come on.

It's true, Robert.

I delivered it myself.

YOU did?

You DID? Ahem... You DID.

Certainly. Ahem...

As you'll remember, Gertrude, after my rehearsals, I called in for tea.

And when you mentioned the letter,

I said that I was to meet up with Lord Goring,

as we were visiting the new modern art exhibition

at the Grosvenor. Which, apart from two studies

by Whistler, was forgettable.

That's exactly what Lord Goring then proceeded to do.

Namely, forget it, before he saw it. For he never appeared.

A fact which I find

most upsetting. Mr Whistler and I

are both deciding whether or not to forgive him.

In the meantime, I delivered the letter myself.

And, you know, the fact of the matter is, I still haven't had

a word of apology.

Erm, sorry.

I forgive you.

Thank you.

Is this true?

"When you left...

"my life...

"my life fell apart.

"I need you, after all."

Your life fell apart, Gertrude?

Yes.

You need me, Gertrude?

Yes.

Why did you not say that you loved me?

Oh, because I love you.

-HE LAUGHS

-I do not care what

punishment or disgrace is in store for me. This letter of yours...

makes me feel that nothing that the world can do can harm me now.

There is no disgrace in store for you, nor any public shame.

HE HUMS

Oh! I...

I don't understand.

We have much to thank him for, Robert.

When I finished my speech, I felt sure my future was in ruins.

When you began it, I wasn't so sure about my own.

I don't know how to thank you. Arthur.

I'm sure I'll think of something.

In the meantime, I'd be grateful for the return of my hand.

Oh.

Miss Mabel?

Miss Mabel?

Miss Mabel, wait!

I, er...

have something very particular to say to you.

Oh. Is it a proposal?

Well... Yes, it is.

It is?!

I think it is.

Well, yes or no?

Actually, yes, I'm afraid it is.

I'm so glad.

-That is the second one today.

-What?

-Not...?

-Yes.

Tommy Trafford. Tommy always proposes on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Today is Friday.

I know.

Today is special.

You didn't accept him, did you?

I shall be in the conservatory,

under the second palm tree on the right.

Second palm tree on the right?

The USUAL palm tree.

And then we'll see how you do.

The usual?

Well, sir, what are you doing here? Wasting your time, as usual?

When one pays a visit, it wastes other people's time

and not one's own. Why are you here?

I've important news for Chiltern.

A seat in the Cabinet.

You well deserve it. You have got

what we want in political life. High character,

moral tone, principles. Everything that you have not got, sir!

I cannot accept this offer, Lord Caversham.

I have decided to decline it.

Decline it, sir?!

I will retire at once from public life.

Decline a seat and retire from public life?!

I never heard such damned nonsense! I beg your pardon, Lady Chiltern.

Prevent your husband from making a...

My husband is right, I agree with him.

You agree? Good heavens.

I admire him for it. I admire him immensely for it.

I shall write at once to the Prime Minister.

Do excuse me for a moment, Lord Caversham.

Lord Caversham.

What is the matter with this family?

There's something wrong here, eh?

Idiocy. Hereditary, perhaps. Both of them, too.

Very sad. Very sad indeed. They're not an old family.

Can't understand it. I'd better go to the Prime Minister

and tell him Chiltern's a fool!

No, not quite yet. I'd rather you took a seat yourself.

What now?

Go in there for a while.

The second palm tree to the right. The usual palm tree.

What?!

There's somebody I want you to talk to.

What about?

About me, sir. Hmm?

Not a subject on which much eloquence is possible.

Gertrude?

Oh.

Yes, it is Robert himself who wishes to retire from public life.

-Oh, really!

-He said so.

Rather than lose your love, he would do anything.

Has he not been punished enough?

We've both been punished. I set him up too high.

Do not then set him down now too low.

It is not the perfect, but the imperfect who need love.

You know a great deal about everything, all of a sudden.

Oh, I hope not.

I do know that it takes great courage

to see the world in all its tainted glory and still to love it.

And even more courage to see it in the one you love.

You have more courage than any woman I know. Do not be afraid to use it.

HE HUMS

LAUGHTER

CHATTERING

< Lady Caversham need never know.

Thank you, Father.

-Can't say I hold up much hope.

-What?!

HE SIGHS

Lord Goring.

You have something you wish to say to me?

Um...

Marry me, M...

Marry me, Miss Mabel.

SHE SIGHS

Well, Lord Goring, I must say, this comes as quite a surprise.

-If you need time to consider, I'll...

-No!

I don't need time, I need a reason.

What?

A reason why you think I should marry you.

Oh, um...

A reason, you say?

A good one. Yes.

-Hmm.

-Robert. >

May I?

Of course.

Gertrude!

It is more than enough to know that you would sacrifice it.

We have, all of us, feet of clay, Robert.

Women, as well as men.

Can it be that...

..you've forgiven me?

Oh, I suppose it must be that.

Oh, goodness.

Hold me, Robert.

Forgive ME?

Gertrude!

Gertrude, my wife! >

HE LAUGHS

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Is that your reason?

Mmm.

I love you.

I said...

I... I know.

Well, couldn't you...

..love me just a little bit in return? Hmm?

Oh, Arthur, you silly.

If you knew anything about anything, which you don't,

you'd know that I absolutely adore you.

-Really?

-Mmm.

Well, why didn't you mention it before?

Because, dear boy, you never would have believed me.

Hmm.

HE CLEARS THROAT

What the devil's going on in this house?!

Congratulations!

If the country doesn't go to the dogs, we'll have you Prime Minister.

Thank you. Arthur, I wish I could repay you.

Well, as a matter of fact, there is.

You are your sister's guardian. I'd like to marry her, that is all.

Oh, I'm SO glad!

You wish to marry Mabel? It's quite out of the question.

THEY ALL LAUGH

I have to consider Mabel's future happiness

and, as much as I care for you, her happiness isn't safe in your hands.

I love Mabel. No other woman has a place in my heart.

They truly love each other, why should they not marry?

I shall tell you.

I called on Lord Goring and I found Mrs Cheveley concealed in his room.

I discovered that they were at one time engaged.

I'm very sorry, Mabel.

How can I allow you to marry him when he's already involved?

I'm sorry, Arthur.

It would be wrong of me.

It would be unjust to her.

Very well.

-But, Arthur...

-Shh.

Mabel,

there is nothing I can say.

Robert?

Arthur was as surprised as you to find Mrs Cheveley in his rooms.

He was expecting...

..quite another woman.

Another woman? What do you mean?

Well, the truth is,