The Importance of Being Earnest
A Trivial Comedy for Serious People
by Oscar Wilde
THE PERSONS IN THE PLAY
John Worthing, J.P.
Algernon Moncrieff
Rev. Canon Chasuble, D.D.
Merriman, Butler
Lane, Manservant
Lady Bracknell
Hon. Gwendolen Fairfax
Cecily Cardew
Miss Prism, Governess
THE SCENES OF THE PLAY
ACT I. Algernon Moncrieff's Flat in Half-Moon Street, W.
ACT II. The Garden at the Manor House, Woolton.
ACT III. Drawing-Room at the Manor House, Woolton.
TIME: The Present.
LONDON: ST. JAMES'S THEATRE
Lessee and Manager: Mr. George Alexander
February 14th, 1895
John Worthing, J.P.: Mr. George Alexander
Algernon Moncrieff: Mr. Allen Aynesworth.
Rev. Canon Chasuble, D.D.: Mr. H. H. Vincent.
Merriman: Mr. Frank Dyall
Lane: Mr. F. Kinsey Peile.
Lady Bracknell: Miss Rose Leclercq.
Hon. Gwendolen Fairfax: Miss Irene Vanbrugh.
Cecily Cardew: Miss Evelyn Millard.
Miss Prism: Mrs. George Canninge.
FIRST ACT
SCENE
Morning-room in Algernon's flat in Half-Moon Street. The room is
luxuriously and artistically furnished. The sound of a piano is
heard in the adjoining room.
[LANE is arranging afternoon tea on the table, and after the music
has ceased, ALGERNON enters.]
ALGERNON. Did you hear what I was playing, Lane?
LANE. I didn't think it
polite to listen, sir.
ALGERNON. I'm sorry for that, for your sake. I don't play
accurately - any one can play
accurately - but I play with
wonderful expression. As far as the piano is
concerned, sentiment
is my forte. I keep science for Life.
LANE. Yes, sir.
ALGERNON. And,
speaking of the science of Life, have you got the
cucumber sandwiches cut for Lady Bracknell?
LANE. Yes, sir. [Hands them on a salver.]
ALGERNON. [Inspects them, takes two, and sits down on the sofa.]
Oh! . . . by the way, Lane, I see from your book that on Thursday
night, when Lord Shoreman and Mr. Worthing were dining with me,
eight bottles of
champagne are entered as having been consumed.
LANE. Yes, sir; eight bottles and a pint.
ALGERNON. Why is it that at a bachelor's
establishment the
servants
invariably drink the
champagne? I ask merely for
information.
LANE. I
attribute it to the superior quality of the wine, sir. I
have often observed that in married households the
champagne is
rarely of a first-rate brand.
ALGERNON. Good heavens! Is marriage so demoralising as that?
LANE. I believe it IS a very pleasant state, sir. I have had very
little experience of it myself up to the present. I have only been
married once. That was in
consequence of a misunderstanding
between myself and a young person.
ALGERNON. [Languidly.] I don't know that I am much interested in
your family life, Lane.
LANE. No, sir; it is not a very interesting subject. I never
think of it myself.
ALGERNON. Very natural, I am sure. That will do, Lane, thank you.
LANE. Thank you, sir. [LANE goes out.]
ALGERNON. Lanes views on marriage seem somewhat lax. Really, if
the lower orders don't set us a good example, what on earth is the
use of them? They seem, as a class, to have
absolutely no sense of
moral responsibility.
[Enter LANE.]
LANE. Mr. Ernest Worthing.
[Enter JACK.]
[LANE goes out.]
ALGERNON. How are you, my dear Ernest? What brings you up to
town?
JACK. Oh, pleasure, pleasure! What else should bring one
anywhere? Eating as usual, I see, Algy!
ALGERNON. [Stiffly.] I believe it is
customary in good society to
take some slight
refreshment at five o'clock. Where have you been
since last Thursday?
JACK. [Sitting down on the sofa.] In the country.
ALGERNON. What on earth do you do there?
JACK. [Pulling off his gloves.] When one is in town one amuses
oneself. When one is in the country one amuses other people. It
is excessively boring.
ALGERNON. And who are the people you amuse?
JACK. [Airily.] Oh, neighbours, neighbours.
ALGERNON. Got nice neighbours in your part of Shropshire?
JACK. Perfectly horrid! Never speak to one of them.
ALGERNON. How
immensely you must amuse them! [Goes over and takes
sandwich.] By the way, Shropshire is your county, is it not?
JACK. Eh? Shropshire? Yes, of course. Hallo! Why all these
cups? Why
cucumber sandwiches? Why such
recklessextravagance in
one so young? Who is coming to tea?
ALGERNON. Oh! merely Aunt Augusta and Gwendolen.
JACK. How
perfectly delightful!
ALGERNON. Yes, that is all very well; but I am afraid Aunt Augusta
won't quite
approve of your being here.
JACK. May I ask why?
ALGERNON. My dear fellow, the way you flirt with Gwendolen is
perfectlydisgraceful. It is almost as bad as the way Gwendolen
flirts with you.
JACK. I am in love with Gwendolen. I have come up to town
expressly to propose to her.
ALGERNON. I thought you had come up for pleasure? . . . I call
that business.
JACK. How utterly un
romantic you are!
ALGERNON. I really don't see anything
romantic in proposing. It
is very
romantic to be in love. But there is nothing
romanticabout a
definite proposal. Why, one may be accepted. One usually
is, I believe. Then the
excitement is all over. The very essence
of
romance is
uncertainty. If ever I get married, I'll certainly
try to forget the fact.
JACK. I have no doubt about that, dear Algy. The Divorce Court
was
specially invented for people whose memories are so curiously
constituted.
ALGERNON. Oh! there is no use speculating on that subject.
Divorces are made in Heaven - [JACK puts out his hand to take a
sandwich. ALGERNON at once interferes.] Please don't touch the
cucumber sandwiches. They are ordered
specially for Aunt Augusta.
[Takes one and eats it.]
JACK. Well, you have been eating them all the time.
ALGERNON. That is quite a different matter. She is my aunt.
[Takes plate from below.] Have some bread and butter. The bread
and butter is for Gwendolen. Gwendolen is
devoted to bread and
butter.
JACK. [Advancing to table and helping himself.] And very good
bread and butter it is too.
ALGERNON. Well, my dear fellow, you need not eat as if you were
going to eat it all. You
behave as if you were married to her
already. You are not married to her already, and I don't think you
ever will be.
JACK. Why on earth do you say that?
ALGERNON. Well, in the first place girls never marry the men they
flirt with. Girls don't think it right.
JACK. Oh, that is nonsense!
ALGERNON. It isn't. It is a great truth. It accounts for the
extraordinary number of bachelors that one sees all over the place.
In the second place, I don't give my consent.
JACK. Your consent!
ALGERNON. My dear fellow, Gwendolen is my first cousin. And
before I allow you to marry her, you will have to clear up the
whole question of Cecily. [Rings bell.]
JACK. Cecily! What on earth do you mean? What do you mean, Algy,
by Cecily! I don't know any one of the name of Cecily.
[Enter LANE.]
ALGERNON. Bring me that cigarette case Mr. Worthing left in the
smoking-room the last time he dined here.
LANE. Yes, sir. [LANE goes out.]
JACK. Do you mean to say you have had my cigarette case all this
time? I wish to
goodness you had let me know. I have been writing
frantic letters to Scotland Yard about it. I was very nearly
offering a large
reward.
ALGERNON. Well, I wish you would offer one. I happen to be more
than usually hard up.
JACK. There is no good
offering a large
reward now that the thing
is found.
[Enter LANE with the cigarette case on a salver. ALGERNON takes it
at once. LANE goes out.]
ALGERNON. I think that is rather mean of you, Ernest, I must say.
[Opens case and examines it.] However, it makes no matter, for,
now that I look at the
inscription inside, I find that the thing
isn't yours after all.
JACK. Of course it's mine. [Moving to him.] You have seen me
with it a hundred times, and you have no right
whatsoever to read
what is written inside. It is a very ungentlemanly thing to read a
private cigarette case.
ALGERNON. Oh! it is
absurd to have a hard and fast rule about what
one should read and what one shouldn't. More than half of modern
culture depends on what one shouldn't read.
JACK. I am quite aware of the fact, and I don't propose to discuss
modern
culture. It isn't the sort of thing one should talk of in
private. I simply want my cigarette case back.
ALGERNON. Yes; but this isn't your cigarette case. This cigarette
case is a present from some one of the name of Cecily, and you said
you didn't know any one of that name.
JACK. Well, if you want to know, Cecily happens to be my aunt.
ALGERNON. Your aunt!
JACK. Yes. Charming old lady she is, too. Lives at Tunbridge
Wells. Just give it back to me, Algy.
ALGERNON. [Retreating to back of sofa.] But why does she call
herself little Cecily if she is your aunt and lives at Tunbridge
Wells? [Reading.] 'From little Cecily with her fondest love.'
JACK. [Moving to sofa and kneeling upon it.] My dear fellow, what
on earth is there in that? Some aunts are tall, some aunts are not
tall. That is a matter that surely an aunt may be allowed to
decide for herself. You seem to think that every aunt should be
exactly like your aunt! That is
absurd! For Heaven's sake give me
back my cigarette case. [Follows ALGERNON round the room.]
ALGERNON. Yes. But why does your aunt call you her uncle? 'From
little Cecily, with her fondest love to her dear Uncle Jack.'
There is no
objection, I admit, to an aunt being a small aunt, but
why an aunt, no matter what her size may be, should call her own
nephew her uncle, I can't quite make out. Besides, your name isn't
Jack at all; it is Ernest.
JACK. It isn't Ernest; it's Jack.
ALGERNON. You have always told me it was Ernest. I have