_Lord Goring._ A letter gravely compromising one's position. I am only putting an imaginary case. _Lady Chiltern._ Robert is as incapable of doing a foolish thing, as he is of doing a wrong thing. She is still unshaken in the belief of her husband's rectitude. And Lord Goring departs sorrowing, but not before he has assured her of his friendship that would serve her in any crisis. _Lord Goring._ ... And if you are ever in trouble, Lady Chiltern, trust me absolutely, and I will help you in every way I can. If you ever want me ... come at once to me. Then on the scene arrives Mrs Cheveley, accompanied by Lady Markby (for whose amusing _bavardage_ I wish I could find space) evidently to revenge herself somehow for her rebuff, ostensibly to inquire after a "diamond snake-brooch with a ruby," which she has lost, probably at Lady Chiltern's. Now the audience knows all about this "brooch-bracelet," for has not Lord Goring found it on the sofa last night, when flirting with Mabel Chiltern, and recognising it as an old and somewhat ominous friend, quietly put it in his pocket, at the same time enjoining Mabel to say nothing about the incident. So, of course, the jewel has not been found in Grosvenor Square. But when the two women are left alone, Mrs Cheveley discovers that it was Lady Chiltern who dictated Sir Robert's letter to her. A bitter passage of arms occurs between them, when Lady Chiltern discusses her adversary, who boasts herself the ally of her husband. _Lady Chiltern._ How dare you class my husband with yourself?... Leave my house. You are unfit to enter it. (_Sir Robert enters from behind. He hears his wife's last words, and sees to whom they are addressed. He grows deadly pale._) _Mrs Cheveley._ Your house! A house bought with the price of dishonour. A house everything in which has been paid for by fraud. (_Turns round and sees Sir Robert Chiltern._) Ask him what the origin of his fortune is! Get him to tell you how he sold to a stockbroker a Cabinet secret. Learn from him to what you owe your position. _Lady Chiltern._ It is not true! Robert! It is not true! But Sir Robert cannot deny the accusation, and Mrs Cheveley departs, the winner of the contest. The act concludes with a terrible denunciation on the part of Sir Robert of his wife, whom he blindly accuses of having wrecked his life, by not allowing him to accept the comfortable offer made by Mrs Cheveley of absolute security from all future knowledge of the sin he had committed in his youth. _Sir Robert Chiltern._ I could have killed it for ever, sent it back into its tomb, destroyed its record, burned the one witness against me. You prevented me.... Let women make no more ideals of men! Let them not put them on altars and bow before them, or they may ruin other lives as completely as you--you whom I have so wildly loved--have ruined mine!