LORD GORING. [_Leaning back with his hands in his pockets_.] Well, the English can’t stand a man who is always saying he is in the right, but they are very fond of a man who admits that he has been in the wrong. It is one of the best things in them. However, in your case, Robert, a confession would not do. The money, if you will allow me to say so, is . . . awkward. Besides, if you did make a clean breast of the whole affair, you would never be able to talk morality again. And in England a man who can’t talk morality twice a week to a large, popular, immoral audience is quite over as a serious politician. There would be nothing left for him as a profession except Botany or the Church. A confession would be of no use. It would ruin you. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. It would ruin me. Arthur, the only thing for me to do now is to fight the thing out. LORD GORING. [_Rising from his chair_.] I was waiting for you to say that, Robert. It is the only thing to do now. And you must begin by telling your wife the whole story. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. That I will not do. LORD GORING. Robert, believe me, you are wrong. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I couldn’t do it. It would kill her love for me. And now about this woman, this Mrs. Cheveley. How can I defend myself against her? You knew her before, Arthur, apparently. LORD GORING. Yes. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Did you know her well? LORD GORING. [_Arranging his necktie_.] So little that I got engaged to be married to her once, when I was staying at the Tenbys’. The affair lasted for three days . . . nearly. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Why was it broken off? LORD GORING. [_Airily_.] Oh, I forget. At least, it makes no matter. By the way, have you tried her with money? She used to be confoundedly fond of money. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I offered her any sum she wanted. She refused. LORD GORING. Then the marvellous gospel of gold breaks down sometimes. The rich can’t do everything, after all. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Not everything. I suppose you are right. Arthur, I feel that public disgrace is in store for me. I feel certain of it. I never knew what terror was before. I know it now. It is as if a hand of ice were laid upon one’s heart. It is as if one’s heart were beating itself to death in some empty hollow. LORD GORING. [_Striking the table_.] Robert, you must fight her. You must fight her. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. But how? LORD GORING. I can’t tell you how at present. I have not the smallest idea. But every one has some weak point. There is some flaw in each one of us. [_Strolls to the fireplace and looks at himself in the glass_.] My father tells me that even I have faults. Perhaps I have. I don’t know. SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. In defending myself against Mrs. Cheveley, I have a right to use any weapon I can find, have I not?