Aristocracy (Social class) -- Drama; Marriage -- Drama; Mothers and daughters -- Drama
LADY WINDERMERE. I did not ask her. He insisted on her coming—against
my entreaties—against my commands. Oh! the house is tainted for me! I
feel that every woman here sneers at me as she dances by with my husband.
What have I done to deserve this? I gave him all my life. He took
it—used it—spoiled it! I am degraded in my own eyes; and I lack
courage—I am a coward! [_Sits down on sofa_.]
LORD DARLINGTON. If I know you at all, I know that you can’t live with a
man who treats you like this! What sort of life would you have with him?
You would feel that he was lying to you every moment of the day. You
would feel that the look in his eyes was false, his voice false, his
touch false, his passion false. He would come to you when he was weary
of others; you would have to comfort him. He would come to you when he
was devoted to others; you would have to charm him. You would have to be
to him the mask of his real life, the cloak to hide his secret.
LADY WINDERMERE. You are right—you are terribly right. But where am I
to turn? You said you would be my friend, Lord Darlington.—Tell me, what
am I to do? Be my friend now.
LORD DARLINGTON. Between men and women there is no friendship possible.
There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship. I love you—
LADY WINDERMERE. No, no! [_Rises_.]
LORD DARLINGTON. Yes, I love you! You are more to me than anything in
the whole world. What does your husband give you? Nothing. Whatever is
in him he gives to this wretched woman, whom he has thrust into your
society, into your home, to shame you before every one. I offer you my
life—
LADY WINDERMERE. Lord Darlington!
LORD DARLINGTON. My life—my whole life. Take it, and do with it what
you will. . . . I love you—love you as I have never loved any living
thing. From the moment I met you I loved you, loved you blindly,
adoringly, madly! You did not know it then—you know it now! Leave this
house to-night. I won’t tell you that the world matters nothing, or the
world’s voice, or the voice of society. They matter a great deal. They
matter far too much. But there are moments when one has to choose
between living one’s own life, fully, entirely, completely—or dragging
out some false, shallow, degrading existence that the world in its
hypocrisy demands. You have that moment now. Choose! Oh, my love,
choose.
LADY WINDERMERE. [_Moving slowly away from him_, _and looking at him
with startled eyes_.] I have not the courage.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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