GERALD. Mother, how changeable you are! You don’t seem to know your own mind for a single moment. An hour and a half ago in the Drawing-room you agreed to the whole thing; now you turn round and make objections, and try to force me to give up my one chance in life. Yes, my one chance. You don’t suppose that men like Lord Illingworth are to be found every day, do you, mother? It is very strange that when I have had such a wonderful piece of good luck, the one person to put difficulties in my way should be my own mother. Besides, you know, mother, I love Hester Worsley. Who could help loving her? I love her more than I have ever told you, far more. And if I had a position, if I had prospects, I could—I could ask her to—Don’t you understand now, mother, what it means to me to be Lord Illingworth’s secretary? To start like that is to find a career ready for one—before one—waiting for one. If I were Lord Illingworth’s secretary I could ask Hester to be my wife. As a wretched bank clerk with a hundred a year it would be an impertinence. MRS. ARBUTHNOT. I fear you need have no hopes of Miss Worsley. I know her views on life. She has just told them to me. [_A pause_.] GERALD. Then I have my ambition left, at any rate. That is something—I am glad I have that! You have always tried to crush my ambition, mother—haven’t you? You have told me that the world is a wicked place, that success is not worth having, that society is shallow, and all that sort of thing—well, I don’t believe it, mother. I think the world must be delightful. I think society must be exquisite. I think success is a thing worth having. You have been wrong in all that you taught me, mother, quite wrong. Lord Illingworth is a successful man. He is a fashionable man. He is a man who lives in the world and for it. Well, I would give anything to be just like Lord Illingworth. MRS. ARBUTHNOT. I would sooner see you dead. GERALD. Mother, what is your objection to Lord Illingworth? Tell me—tell me right out. What is it? MRS. ARBUTHNOT. He is a bad man. GERALD. In what way bad? I don’t understand what you mean. MRS. ARBUTHNOT. I will tell you. GERALD. I suppose you think him bad, because he doesn’t believe the same things as you do. Well, men are different from women, mother. It is natural that they should have different views. MRS. ARBUTHNOT. It is not what Lord Illingworth believes, or what he does not believe, that makes him bad. It is what he is. GERALD. Mother, is it something you know of him? Something you actually know? MRS. ARBUTHNOT. It is something I know. GERALD. Something you are quite sure of? MRS. ARBUTHNOT. Quite sure of. GERALD. How long have you known it? MRS. ARBUTHNOT. For twenty years. GERALD. Is it fair to go back twenty years in any man’s career? And what have you or I to do with Lord Illingworth’s early life? What business is it of ours?