LORD GORING. With you? No. Your transaction with Robert Chiltern may
pass as a loathsome commercial transaction of a loathsome commercial age;
but you seem to have forgotten that you came here to-night to talk of
love, you whose lips desecrated the word love, you to whom the thing is a
book closely sealed, went this afternoon to the house of one of the most
noble and gentle women in the world to degrade her husband in her eyes,
to try and kill her love for him, to put poison in her heart, and
bitterness in her life, to break her idol, and, it may be, spoil her
soul. That I cannot forgive you. That was horrible. For that there can
be no forgiveness.
MRS. CHEVELEY. Arthur, you are unjust to me. Believe me, you are quite
unjust to me. I didn’t go to taunt Gertrude at all. I had no idea of
doing anything of the kind when I entered. I called with Lady Markby
simply to ask whether an ornament, a jewel, that I lost somewhere last
night, had been found at the Chilterns’. If you don’t believe me, you
can ask Lady Markby. She will tell you it is true. The scene that
occurred happened after Lady Markby had left, and was really forced on me
by Gertrude’s rudeness and sneers. I called, oh!—a little out of malice
if you like—but really to ask if a diamond brooch of mine had been found.
That was the origin of the whole thing.
LORD GORING. A diamond snake-brooch with a ruby?
MRS. CHEVELEY. Yes. How do you know?
LORD GORING. Because it is found. In point of fact, I found it myself,
and stupidly forgot to tell the butler anything about it as I was
leaving. [_Goes over to the writing-table and pulls out the drawers_.]
It is in this drawer. No, that one. This is the brooch, isn’t it?
[_Holds up the brooch_.]
MRS. CHEVELEY. Yes. I am so glad to get it back. It was . . a present.
LORD GORING. Won’t you wear it?
MRS. CHEVELEY. Certainly, if you pin it in. [LORD GORING _suddenly
clasps it on her arm_.] Why do you put it on as a bracelet? I never
knew it could be worn as a bracelet.
LORD GORING. Really?
MRS. CHEVELEY. [_Holding out her handsome arm_.] No; but it looks very
well on me as a bracelet, doesn’t it?
LORD GORING. Yes; much better than when I saw it last.
MRS. CHEVELEY. When did you see it last?
LORD GORING. [_Calmly_.] Oh, ten years ago, on Lady Berkshire, from
whom you stole it.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [_Starting_.] What do you mean?
LORD GORING. I mean that you stole that ornament from my cousin, Mary
Berkshire, to whom I gave it when she was married. Suspicion fell on a
wretched servant, who was sent away in disgrace. I recognised it last
night. I determined to say nothing about it till I had found the thief.
I have found the thief now, and I have heard her own confession.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [_Tossing her head_.] It is not true.
LORD GORING. You know it is true. Why, thief is written across your
face at this moment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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