CECILY. Certainly. [GWENDOLEN beats time with uplifted finger.]
GWENDOLEN and CECILY [Speaking together.] Your Christian names are

still an insuperable barrier. That is all!
JACK and ALGERNON [Speaking together.] Our Christian names! Is

that all? But we are going to be christened this afternoon.
GWENDOLEN. [To JACK.] For my sake you are prepared to do this

terrible thing?
JACK. I am.

CECILY. [To ALGERNON.] To please me you are ready to face this
fearful ordeal?

ALGERNON. I am!
GWENDOLEN. How absurd to talk of the equality of the sexes! Where

questions of self-sacrifice are concerned, men are infinitely
beyond us.

JACK. We are. [Clasps hands with ALGERNON.]
CECILY. They have moments of physical courage of which we women

know absolutely nothing.
GWENDOLEN. [To JACK.] Darling!

ALGERNON. [To CECILY.] Darling! [They fall into each other's
arms.]

[Enter MERRIMAN. When he enters he coughs loudly, seeing the
situation.]

MERRIMAN. Ahem! Ahem! Lady Bracknell!
JACK. Good heavens!

[Enter LADY BRACKNELL. The couples separate in alarm. Exit
MERRIMAN.]

LADY BRACKNELL. Gwendolen! What does this mean?
GWENDOLEN. Merely that I am engaged to be married to Mr. Worthing,

mamma.
LADY BRACKNELL. Come here. Sit down. Sit down immediately.

Hesitation of any kind is a sign of mental decay in the young, of
physicalweakness in the old. [Turns to JACK.] Apprised, sir, of

my daughter's sudden flight by her trusty maid, whose confidence I
purchased by means of a small coin, I followed her at once by a

luggage train. Her unhappy father is, I am glad to say, under the
impression that she is attending a more than usually lengthy

lecture by the University Extension Scheme on the Influence of a
permanent income on Thought. I do not propose to undeceive him.

Indeed I have never undeceived him on any question. I would
consider it wrong. But of course, you will clearly understand that

all communication between yourself and my daughter must cease
immediately from this moment. On this point, as indeed on all

points, I am firm.
JACK. I am engaged to be married to Gwendolen Lady Bracknell!

LADY BRACKNELL. You are nothing of the kind, sir. And now, as
regards Algernon! . . . Algernon!

ALGERNON. Yes, Aunt Augusta.
LADY BRACKNELL. May I ask if it is in this house that your invalid

friend Mr. Bunbury resides?
ALGERNON. [Stammering.] Oh! No! Bunbury doesn't live here.

Bunbury is somewhere else at present. In fact, Bunbury is dead,
LADY BRACKNELL. Dead! When did Mr. Bunbury die? His death must

have been extremely sudden.
ALGERNON. [Airily.] Oh! I killed Bunbury this afternoon. I mean

poor Bunbury died this afternoon.
LADY BRACKNELL. What did he die of?

ALGERNON. Bunbury? Oh, he was quite exploded.
LADY BRACKNELL. Exploded! Was he the victim of a revolutionary

outrage? I was not aware that Mr. Bunbury was interested in social
legislation. If so, he is well punished for his morbidity.

ALGERNON. My dear Aunt Augusta, I mean he was found out! The
doctors found out that Bunbury could not live, that is what I mean

- so Bunbury died.
LADY BRACKNELL. He seems to have had great confidence in the

opinion of his physicians. I am glad, however, that he made up his
mind at the last to some definite course of action, and acted under

proper medical advice. And now that we have finally got rid of
this Mr. Bunbury, may I ask, Mr. Worthing, who is that young person

whose hand my nephew Algernon is now holding in what seems to me a
peculiarly unnecessary manner?

JACK. That lady is Miss Cecily Cardew, my ward. [LADY BRACKNELL
bows coldly to CECILY.]

ALGERNON. I am engaged to be married to Cecily, Aunt Augusta.
LADY BRACKNELL. I beg your pardon?

CECILY. Mr. Moncrieff and I are engaged to be married, Lady
Bracknell.

LADY BRACKNELL. [With a shiver, crossing to the sofa and sitting
down.] I do not know whether there is anything peculiarly exciting

in the air of this particular part of Hertfordshire, but the number
of engagements that go on seems to me considerably above the proper

average that statistics have laid down for our guidance. I think
some preliminaryinquiry on my part would not be out of place. Mr.

Worthing, is Miss Cardew at all connected with any of the larger
railway stations in London? I merely desire information. Until

yesterday I had no idea that there were any families or persons
whose origin was a Terminus. [JACK looks perfectlyfurious, but

restrains himself.]
JACK. [In a clear, cold voice.] Miss Cardew is the grand-daughter

of the late Mr. Thomas Cardew of 149 Belgrave Square, S.W.; Gervase
Park, Dorking, Surrey; and the Sporran, Fifeshire, N.B.

LADY BRACKNELL. That sounds not unsatisfactory. Three addresses
always inspire confidence, even in tradesmen. But what proof have

I of their authenticity?
JACK. I have carefully preserved the Court Guides of the period.

They are open to your inspection, Lady Bracknell.
LADY BRACKNELL. [Grimly.] I have known strange errors in that

publication.
JACK. Miss Cardew's family solicitors are Messrs. Markby, Markby,

and Markby.
LADY BRACKNELL. Markby, Markby, and Markby? A firm of the very

highest position in their profession. Indeed I am told that one of
the Mr. Markby's is occasionally to be seen at dinner parties. So

far I am satisfied.
JACK. [Very irritably.] How extremely kind of you, Lady

Bracknell! I have also in my possession, you will be pleased to
hear, certificates of Miss Cardew's birth, baptism, whooping cough,

registration, vaccination, confirmation, and the measles; both the
German and the English variety.

LADY BRACKNELL. Ah! A life crowded with incident, I see; though
perhaps somewhat too exciting for a young girl. I am not myself in

favour of premature experiences. [Rises, looks at her watch.]
Gwendolen! the time approaches for our departure. We have not a

moment to lose. As a matter of form, Mr. Worthing, I had better
ask you if Miss Cardew has any little fortune?

JACK. Oh! about a hundred and thirty thousand pounds in the Funds.
That is all. Goodbye, Lady Bracknell. So pleased to have seen

you.
LADY BRACKNELL. [Sitting down again.] A moment, Mr. Worthing. A

hundred and thirty thousand pounds! And in the Funds! Miss Cardew
seems to me a most attractive young lady, now that I look at her.

Few girls of the present day have any really solid qualities, any
of the qualities that last, and improve with time. We live, I

regret to say, in an age of surfaces. [To CECILY.] Come over
here, dear. [CECILY goes across.] Pretty child! your dress is

sadly simple, and your hair seems almost as Nature might have left
it. But we can soon alter all that. A thoroughly experienced