SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Weak? Oh, I am sick of hearing that phrase. Sick of using it about others. Weak? Do you really think, Arthur, that it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations that it requires strength, strength and courage, to yield to. To stake all one’s life on a single moment, to risk everything on one throw, whether the stake be power or pleasure, I care not—there is no weakness in that. There is a horrible, a terrible courage. I had that courage. I sat down the same afternoon and wrote Baron Arnheim the letter this woman now holds. He made three-quarters of a million over the transaction. LORD GORING. And you? SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I received from the Baron £110,000. LORD GORING. You were worth more, Robert. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. No; that money gave me exactly what I wanted, power over others. I went into the House immediately. The Baron advised me in finance from time to time. Before five years I had almost trebled my fortune. Since then everything that I have touched has turned out a success. In all things connected with money I have had a luck so extraordinary that sometimes it has made me almost afraid. I remember having read somewhere, in some strange book, that when the gods wish to punish us they answer our prayers. LORD GORING. But tell me, Robert, did you never suffer any regret for what you had done? SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. No. I felt that I had fought the century with its own weapons, and won. LORD GORING. [_Sadly_.] You thought you had won. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I thought so. [_After a long pause_.] Arthur, do you despise me for what I have told you? LORD GORING. [_With deep feeling in his voice_.] I am very sorry for you, Robert, very sorry indeed. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I don’t say that I suffered any remorse. I didn’t. Not remorse in the ordinary, rather silly sense of the word. But I have paid conscience money many times. I had a wild hope that I might disarm destiny. The sum Baron Arnheim gave me I have distributed twice over in public charities since then. LORD GORING. [_Looking up_.] In public charities? Dear me! what a lot of harm you must have done, Robert! SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Oh, don’t say that, Arthur; don’t talk like that! LORD GORING. Never mind what I say, Robert! I am always saying what I shouldn’t say. In fact, I usually say what I really think. A great mistake nowadays. It makes one so liable to be misunderstood. As regards this dreadful business, I will help you in whatever way I can. Of course you know that. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Thank you, Arthur, thank you. But what is to be done? What can be done?