Original subtitles

[soft music]

Is your ladyship at home this afternoon?

Yes. Who has called?

Lord Darlington, my lady.

Show him up. And I'm at home to any one who calls.

[Parker] Yes, my lady.

[soft music]

Lord Darlington.

How do you do, Lady Windermere?

How do you do, Lord Darlington?

No, I can't shake hands with you.

My hands are all wet with these roses. Aren't they lovely?

They came up from Selby this morning.

They are quite perfect.

What a wonderful fan. May I look at it?

Do. Pretty, isn't it?

It's got my name on it, and everything.

I have only just seen it myself.

It's my husband's birthday present to me.

You know today is my birthday?

No? Is it really?

Yes, I'm of age today.

Quite an important day in my life, isn't it?

That is why I am giving this party tonight.

I wish I had known it was your birthday, Lady Windermere.

I would have covered the whole street

in front of your house with flowers for you to walk on.

They are made for you.

Lord Darlington, you annoyed me last night

at the Foreign Office.

I am afraid you are going to annoy me again.

I, Lady Windermere?

Put it there, Parker.

That will do.

Won't you come over, Lord Darlington?

I am quite miserable, Lady Windermere.

You must tell me what I did.

Well, you kept paying me elaborate compliments

the whole evening.

Ah, nowadays we are all of us so hard up,

that the only pleasant things to pay are compliments.

They're the only things we can pay.

No, I am talking very seriously.

You mustn't laugh, I am quite serious.

I don't like compliments,

and I don't see why a man should think

he is pleasing a woman enormously

when he says to her a whole heap of things

that he doesn't mean.

Ah, but I did mean them.

I hope not.

I should be sorry

to have to quarrel with you, Lord Darlington.

I like you very much, you know that.

But I shouldn't like you at all

if I thought you were what most other men are.

Believe me, you are better than most other men,

and I sometimes think you pretend to be worse.

We all have our little vanities, Lady Windermere.

Why do you make that your special one?

Nowadays so many conceited people

go about society pretending to be good,

that I think it shows rather a sweet and modest disposition

to pretend to be bad.

Besides, there is this to be said,

if you pretend to be good,

the world takes you very seriously.

If you pretend to be bad, it doesn't.

Such is the astounding stupidity of optimism.

Don't you want the world

to take you seriously then, Lord Darlington?

No, not the world.

Who are the people the world takes seriously?

All the dull people one can think of,

from the Bishops down to the bores.

I should like you

to take me very seriously, Lady Windermere.

You more than any one else in life.

Why? Why me?

Because I think we might be great friends.

Let us be great friends. You may want a friend some day.

Why do you say that?

Oh! We all want friends at times.

I think we're very good friends already, Lord Darlington.

We can always remain so as long as you don't -

Don't what?

Don't spoil it by saying extravagant silly things to me.

You think I am a Puritan, I suppose?

Well, I have something of the Puritan in me.

I was brought up like that. I am glad of it.

Lady Julia was stern to me,

but she taught me what the world is forgetting,

the difference that there is

between what is right and what is wrong.

She allowed of no compromise. I allow of none.

My dear Lady Windermere!

You look on me as being behind the age.

Well, I am!

I should be sorry to be on the same level

as an age like this.

You think the age very bad?

Yes, nowadays, people seem to look on life

as a speculation.

It is not a speculation. It is a sacrament.

Its ideal is love. Its purification is sacrifice.

Oh, anything is better than being sacrificed!

Don't say that.

I do say it. I feel it, I know it.

The men want to know if they are to put the carpets

on the terrace for tonight, my lady?

You don't think it will rain, Lord Darlington, do you?

I won't hear of it raining on your birthday!

Tell them to do it at once, Parker.

Do you think then,

of course I am only putting an imaginary instance,

do you think that in the case of a young married couple,

say about two years married,

if the husband suddenly becomes the intimate friend

of a woman of, well, more than doubtful character,

is always calling upon her, lunching with her,

and probably paying her bills,

do you think that the wife should not console herself?

[Lady Windermere] Console herself?

Yes, I think she should. I think she has the right.

Because the husband is vile, should the wife be vile also?

Vileness is a terrible word, Lady Windermere.

It is a terrible thing, Lord Darlington.

Do you know I am afraid

that good people do a great deal of harm in this world.

Certainly the greatest harm that they do

is that they make badness of such extraordinary importance.

It is absurd to divide people into good or bad.

People are either charming or tedious.

I take the side of the charming,

and you, Lady Windermere, can't help belonging to them.

Now, Lord Darlington,

don't stir, I am merely going to finish my flowers.

And I must say I think you are very hard on modern life.

Of course there is much against it, I admit.

Women, for instance, nowadays, are rather mercenary.

Don't talk of such people.

Well then, setting mercenary people aside,

who, of course, are dreadful,

do you think seriously

that women who have committed what the world calls a fault

should never be forgiven?

I think they should never be forgiven.

And men?

Do you think that there should be the same laws for men

as there are for women?

Certainly!

I think life far too complex a thing

to be settled by these hard and fast rules.

If we had these hard and fast rules,

we should find life much more simple.

Ah, what a fascinating Puritan you are, Lady Windermere!

The adjective was unnecessary, Lord Darlington.

I couldn't help it.

I can resist everything except temptation.

You have the modern affectation of weakness.

It's only an affectation, Lady Windermere.

The Duchess of Berwick and Lady Agatha Carlisle.

Dear Margaret, I am so pleased to see you.

You remember Agatha, don't you?

How do you do, Lord Darlington?

I won't let you know my daughter, you are far too wicked.

Don't say that, Duchess.

As a wicked man I am a complete failure.

Why, there are lots of people who say

I have never really done anything wrong

in the whole course of my life.

Of course they only say it behind my back.

Isn't he dreadful? Agatha, this is Lord Darlington.

Mind you don't believe a word he says.

No, no tea, thank you, dear.

We have just had tea at Lady Markby's.

Such bad tea, too. It was quite undrinkable.

I wasn't at all surprised. Her own son-in-law supplies it.

Agatha is looking forward

so much to your ball tonight, dear Margaret.

Oh, you mustn't think it is going to be a ball, Duchess.

It is only a dance in honour of my birthday.

A small and early.

Very small, very early, and very select, Duchess.

Of course it's going to be select.

But we know that, dear Margaret, of your house.

It is really one of the few houses in London

where I can take Agatha,

and where I feel perfectly secure about dear Berwick.

I don't know what society is coming to.

The most dreadful people seem to go everywhere.

They certainly come to my parties.

The men get quite furious if one doesn't ask them.

Really, some one should make a stand against it.

I will, Duchess.

I will have no one in my house

about whom there is any scandal.

Oh, don't say that, Lady Windermere.

I should never be admitted.

Men don't matter. With women it is different.

We're good. Some of us are, at least.

But we are positively getting elbowed into the corner.

Our husbands would really forget our existence

if we didn't nag at them from time to time,

just to remind them

that we have a perfect legal right to do so.

It's a curious thing, Duchess,

about the game of marriage.

A game, by the way, which is going out of fashion,

but the wives hold all the honours,

and invariably lose the odd trick.

The odd trick? Is that the husband, Lord Darlington?

It would be rather a good name for the modern husband.

Dear Lord Darlington, how thoroughly depraved you are.

Lord Darlington is trivial.

Ah, don't say that, Lady Windermere.

Why do you talk so trivially about life, then?

Because I think that life is far too important a thing

ever to talk seriously about it.

What does he mean?

Do, as a concession to my poor wits, Lord Darlington,

just explain to me what you really mean.

I think I had better not, Duchess.

Nowadays to be intelligible is to be found out. Goodbye.

And now, Lady Windermere, goodbye.

I may come tonight, mayn't I? Do let me come.

Yes, certainly.

But you are not to say foolish, insincere things to people.

Ah! You are beginning to reform me.

It is a dangerous thing to reform any one, Lady Windermere.

What a charming, wicked creature.

I like him so much. I'm quite delighted he's gone!

How sweet you're looking. Where do you get your gowns?

And now I must tell you how sorry I am

for you, dear Margaret.

Agatha, darling!

Yes, mamma.

Will you go and look over the photograph album

that I see there?

Yes, mamma.

Dear girl. She is so fond of photographs of Switzerland.

Such a pure taste, I think.

But I really am so sorry for you, Margaret.

Why, Duchess?

Oh, on account of that horrid woman.

She dresses so well, too, which makes it much worse,

sets such a dreadful example.

Augustus, you know my disreputable brother,

such a trial to us all.

Well, Augustus is completely infatuated about her.

It is quite scandalous,

for she is absolutely inadmissible to society.

Many a woman has a past,

but I have been told that she has at least a dozen,

and that they all fit.

Whom are you talking about, Duchess?

About Mrs. Erlynne.

Mrs. Erlynne? I never heard of her.

And what has she to do with me?

My poor child!

Agatha, darling!

Yes, mamma.

Would you go out on the terrace and look at the sunset?

[Agatha] Yes, mamma.

Sweet girl, so devoted to sunsets.

Shows such refinement of feeling, does it not?

After all, there is nothing like nature, is there?

But what is it, Duchess?

Why do you talk to me about this person?

Don't you really know?

I assure you we're all so distressed about it.

Only last night at dear Lady Jansen's,

every one was saying how extraordinary it was

that of all men in London,

Windermere should behave in such a way.

My husband?

But what has he got to do with any woman of that kind?

Ah, what indeed, my dear? That is the point.

He goes to see her continually,

and stops for hours at a time,

and while he is there she is not at home to any one.

Not that many ladies call on her, dear,

but she has a great many disreputable men friends,

my own brother particularly, as I told you,

and that is what makes it so dreadful about Windermere.

We looked upon him as being such a model husband,

but I am afraid there is no doubt about it.

My dear nieces, you know the Saville girls, don't you?

Such nice domestic creatures,

plain, dreadfully plain, but so good.

Well, they're always at the window doing fancy work,

and making ugly things for the poor,

which I think so useful of them

in these dreadful socialistic days,

and this terrible woman has taken a house in Curzon Street,

right opposite them, such a respectable street, too!

I don't know what we're coming to!

And they tell me that Windermere goes there

four and five times a week.

They see him. They can't help it.

And although they never talk scandal,

they, well, of course they remark on it to every one.

And the worst of it all,

is that I have been told

that this woman has got a great deal of money

out of somebody,

for it seems that she came to London six months ago

without anything at all to speak of,

and now she has this charming house in Mayfair,

drives her ponies in the park every afternoon

and all, well, all, since she has known

poor dear Windermere.

Oh, I can't believe it!

But it's quite true, my dear.

The whole of London knows it.

That is why I felt it was better to come and talk to you,

and advise you to take Windermere away at once

to Homburg or to Aix,

where he'll have something to amuse him,

and you can watch him all day long.

I assure you, my dear,

that on several occasions after I was first married,

I had to pretend to be very ill,

and was obliged to drink the most unpleasant mineral waters,

merely to get Berwick out of town.

He was so extremely susceptible.

Though I am bound to say

that he never gave away any large sums of money to anybody.

He is far too high-principled for that!

Duchess, Duchess, it's impossible!

We are only married two years.

Our child is but six months old.

Ah, the dear pretty baby. How is the little darling?

Is it a boy or a girl? I do hope a girl.

Ah, no, I remember it's a boy. I'm so sorry.

Boys are so wicked. My boy is excessively immoral.

You wouldn't believe at what hours he comes home.

And he's only left Oxford a few months,

I don't know what they teach them there.

Are all men bad?

Oh, all of them, dear.

All of them, without any exception.

And they never grow any better.

Men become old, but they never become good.

Windermere and I married for love.

Yes, we begin like that.

It was only Berwick's brutal

and incessant threats of suicide

that made me accept him at all,

and before the year was out,

he was running after all kinds of petticoats.

Every shape, every colour, every material.

In fact, before the honeymoon was over,

I caught him winking at my maid,

a most pretty, respectable girl.

I dismissed her at once without a character.

No, I remember I passed her on to my sister,

poor dear Sir George was so short-sighted,

I thought it wouldn't matter.

But it did though, it was most unfortunate.

And now, my dear child, I must go, as we are dining out.

And mind you don't take this

little aberration of Windermere's too much to heart.

Just take him abroad, and he'll come back to you all right.

Come back to me?

Yes, dear, these wicked women get our husbands from us,

but they always come back, slightly damaged, of course.

And don't make scenes, men hate them!

It is very kind of you, Duchess,

to come and tell me all this.

But I can't believe that my husband is untrue to me.

Oh, pretty child, I was like that once.

Now I know that all men are monsters.

The only thing to do is to feed the wretches well.

A good cook does wonders, and that I know you have.

My dear Margaret, you are not going to cry?

You needn't be afraid, Duchess, I never cry.

That's quite right, dear.

Crying is the refuge of plain women,

but the ruin of pretty ones.

Agatha, darling!

[Agatha] Yes, mamma.

Come and bid goodbye to Lady Windermere,

and thank her for your charming visit.

Oh, by the way,

thank you for sending a card to Mr. Hopper.

He's that rich young Australian

people are taking such notice of at present.

His father made a great fortune

selling some kind of food in circular tins,

most palatable, I believe.

I fancy it is the thing the servants always refuse to eat.

But the son is quite interesting.

I think he's attracted by dear Agatha's clever talk.

Of course, we should be very sorry to lose her,

but I think that a mother

who doesn't part with a daughter every season

has no real affection.

We're coming tonight, dear.

And remember my advice, take the poor fellow away at once,

it is the only thing to do.

Goodbye, once more. Come, Agatha.

But it's quite true, my dear, the whole of London knows it.

[Lord Darlington] Do you think then

that in the case of a young married couple,

say, about two years married,

if the husband suddenly becomes the intimate friend

of a woman of, well, more than doubtful character,

is always calling upon and lunching with her.

[Duchess] We looked upon him

as being such a model husband,

but I'm afraid there is no doubt about it.

No, it is some hideous mistake. Some silly scandal.

He loves me. He loves me.

I am his wife, I have a right to look.

[pages rustling]

[Margaret sighing]

[clock ticking]

[pages rustling]

Has the fan been sent home yet?

You've cut open my bank book.

You've no right to do such a thing!

You think it wrong that you are found out, don't you?

I think it wrong that a wife should spy on her husband.

I did not spy on you.

I never knew of this woman's existence

till half an hour ago.

Someone who pitied me was kind enough to tell me

what every one in London knows already.

Your daily visits to Curzon Street,

your mad infatuation,

the monstrous sums of money you squander

on this infamous woman.

Margaret, don't talk like that of Mrs. Erlynne,

you don't know how unjust it is!

You are very jealous of Mrs. Erlynne's honour.

I wish you had been as jealous of mine.

Your honour is untouched. You don't think that I-

I think that you spend your money strangely. That is all.

Oh, don't imagine I mind about the money.

As far as I am concerned,

you may squander everything we have.

But what I do mind is that you who have loved me,

you who have taught me to love you,

should pass from the love that is given

to the love that is bought.

It is horrible!

And it is I who feel degraded. You don't feel anything.

I feel stained, utterly stained.

You can't realise how hideous

the last six months seems to me now.

Every kiss you have given me is tainted in my memory.

Margaret, don't say that.

I've never loved any one in the whole world but you.

Who is this woman, then? Why do you take a house for her?

I did not take a house for her.

You gave her the money to do it, which is the same thing.

Margaret, as far as I have known Mrs. Erlynne -

[Margaret] Is there a Mr. Erlynne, or is he a myth?

He died many years ago. She is alone in the world.

No relations?

None.

Rather curious, isn't it?

Margaret, as far as I have known Mrs. Erlynne,

she has conducted herself well.

If years ago -

Oh! I don't want details about her life!

I am not going to give you details.

I tell you simply this,

Mrs. Erlynne was once loved, honoured, respected.

She was well born, she had position.

She lost everything, threw it away, if you like.

That makes it all the more bitter.

Margaret, misfortunes one can endure,

they come from outside, they are accidents.

But to suffer for one's own faults,

there is the sting of life.

It was twenty years ago, too.

She was little more than a girl.

She had been a wife for even less time than you have.

I am not interested in her.

And you should not mention this woman and me

in the same breath.

It is an error of taste.

Margaret, you could save this woman.

She wants to get back into society,

and she wants you to help her.

Me?

Yes, you.

How impertinent of her!

Margaret, I came to ask you a great favour,

and I still ask it of you.

I want you to send Mrs. Erlynne an invitation

for our party tonight.

You are mad!

I entreat you. Margaret.

People may chatter,

do chatter about her, of course,

but they don't know anything definite against her.

She has been to several houses,

not to houses where you would go, I admit,

but still to houses where women

who are in what is nowadays called society do go.

That does not content her.

She wants you to receive her once.

As a triumph for her, I suppose?

No, but because she knows that you are a good woman.

And that she knows that if she comes here once

she will have a chance of a surer, a happier life

than she has had.

She will make no further effort to know you.

Margaret, won't you help a woman who is trying to get back?

No, if a woman really repents,

she never wishes to return to the society

that has made or seen her ruin.

I beg you.

I am going to dress for dinner,

and don't mention the subject again this evening.

-Margaret. -Arthur.

You fancy because I have no father or mother

that I am alone in the world,

and that you can treat me as you choose.

You are wrong, I have friends, many friends.

Now you are talking foolishly, recklessly.

I won't argue with you,

but I insist upon your asking Mrs. Erlynne tonight.

I shall do nothing of the kind.

You refuse?

Absolutely!

Margaret, do this for my sake. It is her last chance.

What has that to do with me?

How hard good women are!

How weak bad men are!

None of us men may be good enough

for the women we marry, that is quite true.

You don't imagine I would ever...

The suggestion is quite monstrous.

Why should you be different from other men?

I am told that there is hardly a husband in London

who does not waste his life over some shameful passion.

I am not one of them.

I am not sure of that!

You are sure in your heart.

Margaret, don't make chasm after chasm between us.

God knows the last few minutes

have thrust us wide enough apart.

Sit down and write the card.

Nothing in the whole world would induce me.

Then I will!

You are going to invite this woman?

Yes.

Parker!

Yes, my lord.

I want this note sent to Mrs. Erlynne

at number 84A Curzon Street.

There is no answer.

Arthur, if that woman comes here, I shall insult her.

Margaret, don't say that.

I mean it.

Child, if you did such a thing,

there's not a woman in London who would not pity you.

There is not a good woman in London

who would not applaud me.

We have been too lax. We must make an example.

I propose to begin tonight.

You gave me this today. It was your birthday present to me.

If that woman crosses my threshold,

I shall strike her across the face with it.

You couldn't. You won't do such a thing.

You don't know me!

Parker!

[Parker] Yes, my lady.

I shall dine in my own room.

I don't want dinner, in fact.

See that everything is ready by half-past 10.

And, Parker, be sure you pronounce the names of the guests

very distinctly tonight.

Sometimes you speak so fast that I miss them.

I am particularly anxious to hear the names quite clearly,

so as to make no mistake.

You understand, Parker?

Yes, my lady.

That will do.

Arthur.

Margaret, you'll ruin us!

Us? From this moment my life is separate from yours.

But if you wish to avoid a public scandal,

write at once to this woman

and tell her that I forbid her to come here!

I will not. I cannot.

She must come come here tonight.

Then I shall do as I have said. You leave me no choice.

Margaret!

-[soft music] -[guests chattering]

So strange Lord Windermere isn't here.

Mr. Hopper is very late, too.

You have kept those five dances for him, Agatha?

Yes, mamma.

Just let me see your card.

I'm so glad Lady Windermere has revived cards.

They're a mother's only safeguard.

Oh, you dear simple little thing.

No nice girl should ever waltz

with such particularly younger sons.

It looks so fast.

You might pass the last two dances on the terrace

with Mr. Hopper.

Yes, mamma.

The air is so pleasant there.

Lady Stutfield, Sir James Royston,

Mrs. Cowper-Cowper,

-Mr. Guy Berkeley. -Good evening,

Lady Stutfield.

I suppose this will be the last ball of the season?

I suppose so, Mr. Dumby.

It's been a delightful season, hasn't it?

Quite delightful!

Good evening, Duchess.

I suppose this will be the last ball of the season?

I suppose so, Mr. Dumby.

It has been a very dull season, hasn't it?

Oh, dreadfully dull! Dreadfully dull!

Good evening, Mr. Dumby.

I suppose this will be the last ball of the season?

I think not. There'll probably be at least two more.

[Parker] Mr. Rufford, Lady Jedburgh and Miss Graham.

Mr. Hopper.

How do you do, Lady Windermere?

How do you do, Duchess?

Dear Mr. Hopper, how nice of you to come so early.

We all know how you are run after in London.

Capital place, London!

They are not nearly so exclusive in London

as they are in Sydney.

Ah! We know your value, Mr. Hopper.

We wish there were more like you.

It would make life so much easier.

Do you know, Mr. Hopper,

dear Agatha and I are so much interested in Australia.

It must be so pretty

with all the dear little kangaroos flying about.

Agatha has found it on the map.

What a curious shape it is.

Just like a large packing case.

However, it is a very young country, isn't it?

Wasn't it made at the same time as the others, Duchess?

How clever you are, Mr. Hopper.

You have a cleverness quite of your own.

Now I mustn't keep you.

But I should like to dance with Lady Agatha, Duchess.

Well, if she has a dance left.

Have you a dance left, Agatha?

Yes, mamma.

The next one?

Yes, mamma.

May I have the pleasure?

Mind you take great care

of my little chatterbox, Mr. Hopper.

[guests chattering]

Margaret, I want to speak to you.

In a moment.

[soft music]

Lord Augustus Lorton.

Good evening, Lady Windermere.

Sir James, would you take me into the ballroom?

Augustus has been dining with us tonight.

I really have had quite enough of Augustus for the moment.

Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Bowden,

Lord and Lady Paisley.

Lord Darlington.

I want to speak to you particularly, dear boy.

I'm worn to a shadow. Know I don't look it.

None of us men do look what we really are.

Damned good thing, too.

What I want to know is this. Who is she?

Where does she come from?

Why hasn't she got any damn relations?

Damn nuisance, relations!

But they make one so damn respectable.

You are referring to Mrs. Erlynne, I suppose?

I've only known her six months.

Till then, I never knew of her existence.

You have seen a good deal of her since then.

Yes, I have seen a good deal of her since then.

I have just seen her.

Egad! The women are very down on her.

I have been dining with Arabella this evening!

By Jove, you should have heard

what she said about Mrs. Erlynne.

She didn't leave a rag on her.

Berwick and I told her that didn't matter much,

as the lady in question must have an extremely fine figure.

You should have seen Arabella's expression.

But, look here, dear boy,

I don't know what to do about Mrs. Erlynne.

I might be married to her,

she treats me with such damned indifference.

[guests laughing]

She's deuced clever, too! She explains everything.

Egad! She explains you.

She has got any amount of explanations for you

and all of them different.

No explanations are necessary

concerning my friendship with Mrs. Erlynne.

Well, look here, dear old fellow.

Do you think she will ever get

into this damned thing called society?

Would you introduce her to your wife?

No point beating about the confounded bush.

Would you do that?

Up here. She's coming here this evening.

Your wife has sent her a card?

Mrs. Erlynne has received a card.

Then she's all right, dear boy.

But why didn't you tell me that before?

It would have saved a heap of worry

and damned misunderstandings.

[Parker] Mr. Cecil Graham!

Good evening, Arthur.

Why don't you ask me how I am?

I like people to ask me how I am.

It shows a wide-spread interest in my health.

Now, tonight I am not at all well.

Been dining with my people.

Wonder why it is one's people are always so tedious?

My father would talk morality after dinner.

I told him he was old enough to know better.

But my experience is that as soon as people are old enough

to know better, they don't know anything at all.

Hello, Tuppy!

Hear you're going to be married again.

I thought you were tired of that game.

You're excessively trivial, my dear boy,

excessively trivial!

By the way, Tuppy, which is it?

Have you been twice married and once divorced,

or is it twice divorced and once married?

I say it's twice divorced and once married.

It sounds so much more probable.

I have a very bad memory. I really don't remember which.

Lord Windermere, I've something most particular

to ask you.

If you will excuse me, Lady Plymdale,

I really must speak to my wife.

Oh, you mustn't dream of such a thing.

It's most dangerous nowadays

for a husband to pay any attention to his wife in public.

It always makes people think that he beats her

when they're alone.

The world has grown so suspicious

of anything that looks like a happy married life.

But I'll tell you what it is at supper.

Margaret, I must speak to you now.

Lord Darlington, will you hold my fan for me, please.

Thanks.

What you said before dinner-

That woman is not coming here tonight!

Mrs. Erlynne is coming here.

And if you in any way wound or annoy her,

you will bring shame and sorrow on us both.

Remember that!

Margaret, trust me. A wife should trust her husband!

London is full of women who trust their husbands.

One can always recognise them.

They look so thoroughly unhappy.

I am not going to be one of them.

Lord Darlington, will you give me back my fan, please?

Thanks. A useful thing a fan, isn't it?

[soft music]

I want a friend tonight, Lord Darlington,

I didn't know I would want one so soon.

Lady Windermere, I knew the time would come some day,

but why tonight?

Margaret.

[Parker] Mrs. Erlynne!

[soft music]

You have dropped your fan, Lady Windermere.

How do you do, again, Lord Windermere?

How charming your sweet wife looks. Quite a picture.

It was terribly rash of you to come here this evening.

The wisest thing I ever did in my life.

And, by the way, you must pay me

a good deal of attention this evening.

I am afraid of the women.

You must introduce me to some of them.

The men I can always manage.

How do you do, Lord Augustus?

You have quite neglected me lately.

I have not seen you since yesterday.

I am afraid you're faithless. Every one told me so.

Now really, Mrs. Erlynne, allow me to explain.

No, dear Lord Augustus, you can't explain anything.

It is your chief charm.

Ah, if you find charms in me, Mrs. Erlynne,

allow me to say...

[soft music]

How pale you are!

Cowards are always pale!

You look faint. Come out on the terrace.

Lady Windermere, how beautifully

your terrace is illuminated.

Reminds me of Prince Doria's at Rome.

Oh, Mr Graham, how do you do?

Isn't that your aunt, Lady Jedburgh?

I should so much like to know her.

[soft music]

Certainly, if you wish it.

Aunt Caroline, allow me to introduce Mrs. Erlynne.

So pleased to meet you, Lady Jedburgh.

Your nephew and I are great friends.

I am so much interested in his political career.

I think he's sure to be a wonderful success.

He thinks like a Tory, and talks like a Radical,

and that's so important nowadays.

And he's such a brilliant talker, too.

But we all know from whom he inherits that.

Lord Allandale was saying to me only yesterday, in the park,

that Mr. Graham talks almost as well as his aunt.

Most kind of you to say these charming things to me.

Did you introduce Mrs. Erlynne to Lady Jedburgh?

Had to, my dear fellow. Couldn't help it.

That woman can make one do anything she wants.

How, I don't know.

Hope to goodness she won't speak to me.

On Thursday? With great pleasure.

[guests clapping]

What a bore it is to have to be civil to these old dowagers.

But they always insist on it.

Who is that well-dressed woman talking to Windermere?

Haven't got the faintest idea!

Looks like an edition de luxe of a wicked French novel,

meant specially for the English market.

[both laughing]

So that is poor Dumby with Lady Plymdale?

I hear she is frightfully jealous of him.

He doesn't seem anxious to speak to me tonight.

I suppose he is afraid of her.

Those straw-colored women have dreadful tempers.

Do you know, I think I'll dance with you first, Windermere.

It will make Lord Augustus so jealous!

Lord Augustus, Lord Windermere insists

on my dancing with him first, and, as it's his own house,

I can't well refuse.

You know I would much sooner dance with you.

I wish I could think so, Mrs. Erlynne.

You know it far too well.

I can fancy a person dancing through life with you

and finding it charming.

Oh, thank you, thank you.

You are the most adorable of all ladies.

What a nice speech. So simple and so sincere.

Just the sort of speech I like.

Well, you shall hold my bouquet.

[soft music]

Ah, Mr. Dumby, how are you?

I am so sorry I have been out

the last three times you have called.

Come and lunch on Friday.

Delighted!

What an absolute brute you are!

I never can believe a word you say!

Why did you tell me you didn't know her?

What do you mean by calling on her three times running?

You are not to go to lunch there,

of course you understand that?

My dear Laura, I wouldn't dream of going.

You haven't told me her name yet. Who is she?

She's a Mrs. Erlynne.

That woman?

Yes, that is what they all call her.

How very interesting. How intensely interesting.

I really must have a good stare at her.

[soft music]

I have heard the most shocking things about her.

They say she is ruining poor Windermere.

And Lady Windermere,

who goes in for being so proper, invites her.

Extremely amusing!

It takes a thoroughly good woman

to do a thoroughly stupid thing.

You are to lunch there on Friday!

Why?

Because I want you to take my husband with you.

He has been so attentive lately,

that he has become a perfect nuisance.

Now, this woman is just the thing for him.

He'll dance attendance upon her as long as she lets him,

and won't bother me.

I assure you, women of that kind are most useful.

[soft music]

Her coming here is monstrous, unbearable.

I know now what you meant today.

Why didn't you tell me right out? You should have!

I couldn't.

A man can't tell these things about another man.

But if I had known

that he was gonna make you ask her here tonight,

I think I would have.

That insult, at any rate, you would have been spared.

I did not ask her. He insisted on her coming.

Against my entreaties, against my commands.

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 my whole life.

He took it, used it, spoiled it.

I am degraded in my own eyes and I lack courage.

I am a coward!

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.

You are right. You are terribly right.

But where am I to turn to?

You said you would be my friend, Lord Darlington.

Tell me, what am I to do? Be my friend now.

Between men and women there is no friendship possible.

There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship.

I love you.

No, no.

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,

who thrust into your society, into your home,

to shame you before every one.

I offer you my life.

Lord Darlington!

My life. My whole life.

Take it, and do with it what you will.

I love you.

I 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 tonight.

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.

I have not the courage.

Yes, you have the courage.

There may be six months of pain,

of disgrace even, but when you no longer bear his name,

when you bear mine, all will be well.

Margaret, my love, my wife, that shall be some day.

Yes, my wife. You know it.

What are you now? Nothing.

This woman has the place that belongs by right to you.

Oh! Go. Go out of this house, with a head erect.

With a smile upon your lips, with courage in your eyes.

All London will know why you did it, no one will blame you.

If they do, what matter? Wrong?

What is wrong?

It's wrong for a man to abandon his wife

for a shameless woman.

It is wrong for a wife to remain with a man

who so dishonours her.

You said once you would make no compromise with things.

Make none now. Be brave.

Be yourself.

I am afraid of being myself. Let me think.

Let me wait. My husband may return to me.

And you would take him back.

You are not what I thought you were.

You are just the same as every other woman.

You would stand anything

rather than face the censure of a world,

whose praise you would despise.

In a week you will be driving with this woman in the park.

She will be your constant guest, your dearest friend.

You would endure anything

rather than break with one blow this monstrous tie.

You are right. You have no courage, none!

Ah, give me time to think. I cannot answer you now.

It must be now or not at all.

Then, not at all.

You break my heart.

Mine is already broken.

Tomorrow I leave England.

This is the last time I shall ever look upon you.

You will never see me again.

For one moment our lives met. Our souls touched.

They must never meet or touch again.

Goodbye, Margaret.

[Margaret sobbing]

How alone I am in life. How terribly alone.

Dear Margaret, I've just been having

the most delightful chat with Mrs. Erlynne.

I am so sorry for the things I said to you

this afternoon about her.

Of course, she must be all right if you invite her.

A most attractive woman,

with such sensible views on life.

Told me she entirely disapproved

of people marrying more than once,

so I feel quite safe about poor Augustus.

Can't imagine why people speak against her.

It's those horrid nieces of mine, the Saville sisters.

Always talking scandal.

Still, I should go to Homburg, dear, I really should.

She is just a little too attractive.

But where is Agatha? Oh, there she is.

Mr. Hopper, I am very, very angry with you.

You have taken Agatha out on the terrace,

and she is so delicate.

Awfully sorry, Duchess.

We went out for a moment and then got chatting together.

Ah, about dear Australia, I suppose?

Yes!

Agatha, darling!

Yes, mamma!

Did Mr. Hopper definitely -

Yes, mamma.

And what answer did you give him, dear child?

Yes, mamma.

My dear one, you always say the right thing.

Mr. Hopper, James, Agatha has told me everything.

How cleverly you have both kept your secret.

You don't mind my taking Agatha

off to Australia, then, Duchess?

To Australia?

Oh, don't mention that dreadful vulgar place.

But she said she'd like to come with me.

Did you say that, Agatha?

Yes, mamma.

Agatha, you say the most silly things possible.

I should think on the whole that Grosvenor Square

would be a more healthy place to reside in.

There are lots of vulgar people live in Grosvenor Square,

but at any rate

there are no horrid kangaroos crawling about.

But we'll talk about that tomorrow.

James, you can take Agatha down.

[soft music]

You'll come to lunch, of course, James.

At half-past one, instead of two.

The Duke will wish to say a few words to you, I am sure.

I should like to have a chat with the Duke, Duchess.

He has not said a single word to me yet.

I think you'll find he will have a great deal

to say to you tomorrow.

And now goodnight, Margaret.

I'm afraid it's the old, old story, dear.

Love, well, not love at first sight,

but love at the end of the season,

which is so much more satisfactory.

[Margaret] Goodnight, Duchess.

[soft music]

My dear Margaret,

what a handsome woman your husband has been dancing with.

I should be quite jealous if I were you.

Is she a great friend of yours?

No.

Really? Goodnight, dear.

Awful manners young Hopper has!

Ah, Hopper is one of nature's gentlemen,

the worst type of gentleman I know.

Sensible woman, Lady Windermere.

Lots of wives would have objected to Mrs. Erlynne coming

but Lady Windermere has that uncommon thing

called common sense.

And Windermere knows

that nothing looks so like innocence as an indiscretion.

[both chuckling]

Dear Windermere is becoming almost modern.

Never thought he would.

Goodnight, Lady Windermere.

What a fascinating woman Mrs. Erlynne is.

She is coming to lunch on Thursday. Won't you come too?

The Bishop and dear Lady Merton will be there.

I am afraid I am engaged, Lady Jedburgh.

So sorry. Come, dear.

[soft music]

Charming ball it has been.

Quite reminds me of old days.

And I see that there are just as many fools in society

as there used to be.

So pleased to find that nothing has altered.

The dear Duchess, and that sweet Lady Agatha.

Just the type of girl I like.

Well, really, Windermere,

if I am to be the Duchess's sister-in-law.

Are you?

Oh, yes. He's to call tomorrow at 12 o'clock.

He wanted to propose tonight. In fact he did.

He kept on proposing.

Poor Augustus, you know how he repeats himself.

Such a bad habit.

But I told him

I wouldn't give him an answer until tomorrow.

Of course I am going to take him.

And I dare say, I should make him an admirable wife,

as wives go.

And there is a great deal of good in Lord Augustus.

Fortunately it is all on the surface.

Just where good qualities should be.

Of course you must help me in this matter.

I am not called on to encourage Lord Augustus, I suppose?

Oh, no. I do the encouraging.

But you will make me a handsome settlement, Windermere,

won't you?

Is that what you wanted to talk to me about tonight?

Yes.

I will not talk about it here.

[laughs] Then we will talk of it on the terrace.

Even business should have a picturesque background.

Should it not, Windermere?

With a proper background, women can do anything.

Won't tomorrow do as well?

No, you see, tomorrow I am going to accept him.

And I think it would be a good thing

if I was able to tell him that I had,

well, what shall we say?

2000 pounds a year left to me by a third cousin,

or a second husband, or some distant relative of that kind.

It would be an additional attraction, wouldn't it?

You have a delightful opportunity now

of paying me a compliment, Windermere.

But you are not very clever at paying compliments.

I am afraid Margaret doesn't encourage you

in that excellent habit.

It's a great mistake on her part.

When men give up saying what is charming,

they give up thinking what is charming.

But what do you say to 2000 pounds a year?

2500 pounds, I think.

In modern life margin is everything.

Windermere, don't you think the world

an intensely amusing place?

I do!

To stay in this house any longer is impossible.

Tonight a man who loves me offered me his whole life.

I refused it. It was foolish of me.

I will offer him mine now.

[soft music]

Is Lady Windermere in the ballroom?

Her ladyship has just gone out.

Gone out? She's not on the terrace?

No, madam. Her ladyship has just gone out of the house.

Out of the house?

Yes, madam.

Her ladyship told me she had left a letter

for his lordship on the table.

A letter for Lord Windermere?

Yes, madam.

Thank you.

[door opening]

No, no! It would be impossible.

Life doesn't repeat its tragedies like that.

Oh, how terrible. The same words I wrote to her father.

And how bitterly I have been punished for it.

No my punishment, my real punishment is tonight.

Is now.

[guests chattering]

Have you said goodnight to my wife?

Yes.

Where is she?

She is very tired. She has gone to bed.

She said she had a headache.

I must go to her. You'll excuse me?

No, it's nothing serious.

She's only very tired, that is all.

Besides, there are people still in the supper room.

She wants you to make her apologies to them.

She said she didn't wish to be disturbed.

She asked me to tell you.

Oh yes, thank you, that is mine.

But it's my wife's handwriting, isn't it?

Yes, it's an address.

Will you ask them to call my carriage, please?

Certainly.

Thanks.

Dear lady, I am in such suspense.

May I not have an answer to my request?

Lord Augustus, listen to me.

You are to take Lord Windermere down to your club at once,

and keep him there as long as possible.

Do you understand?

But you said you wished me to keep early hours!

Do what I tell you. Do what I tell you.

And my reward?

Your reward? Your reward?

Oh! Ask me that tomorrow.

But don't let Windermere out of your sight tonight.

If you do I will never forgive you.

I will never speak to you again.

I shall have nothing to do with you.

Remember you are to keep Windermere at your club,

and don't let him come back tonight.

Well, really, I might be her husband already.

Positively I might.

Arthur.

Why doesn't he come? This waiting is horrible.

He should be here.

Why is he not here, to wake by passionate words

some fire within me?

I am cold. Cold as a loveless thing.

Arthur must have read my letter by this time.

If he cared for me, he would have come after me,

would have taken me back by force.

But he doesn't care.

He's entrammelled led by this woman.

Fascinated by her. Dominated by her.

If a woman wants to hold a man,

she has merely to appeal to what is worst in him.

We make gods of men and they leave us.

Others make brutes of them and they fawn and are faithful.

How hideous life is.

Oh, it was mad of me to come here, horribly mad.

And yet, which is the worst, I wonder,

to be at the mercy of a man who loves me,

or the wife of a man who in my own house dishonours me?

What woman knows? What woman in the whole world?

But will he love me always?

This man to whom I am giving my life?

What do I bring him?

Lips that have lost the note of joy,

eyes that are blinded by tears, chill hands and icy heart.

I bring him nothing.

I must go back. No, I can't go back.

My letter has put me in their power.

Arthur would not take me back.

Lord Darlington leaves England tomorrow.

I will go with him. I have no choice.

No, no. I will go back.

Let Arthur do with me what he pleases.

I can't wait here. It has been madness my coming.

I must go at once.

[door banging]

Lord Darlington. What can I say to him?

Will he let me go away at all?

I have heard that men are brutal, horrible.

Lady Windermere. Thank Heaven I am in time.

You must go back to your husband's house immediately.

[Margaret] Must?

Yes, you must. There is not a second to be lost.

Lord Darlington may return at any moment.

Don't come near me.

Oh, you are on the brink of ruin.

You are on the brink of a hideous precipice.

You must leave this place at once.

My carriage is waiting at the corner of the street.

You must come with me and drive straight home.

What are you doing?

Mrs. Erlynne, if you had not come here,

I would have gone back.

But now that I see you,

I feel that nothing in the whole world would induce me

to live under the same roof as Lord Windermere.

You fill me with horror.

There is something about you

that stirs the wildest rage within me.

And I know why you are here.

My husband sent you to lure me back

that I might serve as a blind

to whatever relations exist between you and him.

Oh, you don't think that.You can't.

Go back to my husband, Mrs. Erlynne.

He belongs to you and not to me.

I suppose he is afraid of a scandal. Men are such cowards.

They outrage every law of the world,

and are afraid of the world's tongue.

But he had better prepare himself. He shall have a scandal.

He shall have the worst scandal

there has been in London for years.

He shall see his name in every vile paper,

mine on every hideous placard.

[Mrs. Erlynne] No. No.

Yes, he shall.

Had he come himself,

I admit I would have gone back

to the life of degradation you and he had prepared for me.

I was going back.

But to stay himself at home,

and to send you as his messenger,

oh, it was infamous, infamous.

Lady Windermere, you wrong me horribly.

You wrong your husband horribly.

He doesn't know you are here.

He thinks you are safe in your own house.

He thinks you are asleep in your own room.

He never read the mad letter you wrote to him.

Never read it?

No. He knows nothing about it.

How simple you think me.

You are lying to me!

I am not. I am telling you the truth.

If my husband didn't read my letter,

how is it that you are here?

Who told you I had left the house

you were shameless enough to enter?

Who told you where I had gone to?

My husband told you, and sent you to decoy me back.

Your husband has never seen the letter.

I saw it, I opened it. I read it.

You opened a letter of mine to my husband?

You wouldn't dare!

Dare?

Oh, to save you from the abyss into which you are falling,

there is nothing in the world I would not dare.

Nothing in the whole world. Here is the letter.

Your husband has never read it. He never shall read it.

It should never have been written.

How do I know that that was my letter after all?

You seem to think the commonest device can take me in.

Oh! Why do you disbelieve everything I tell you?

What object do you think I have in coming here,

except to save you from utter ruin.

To save you from the consequence of a hideous mistake.

That letter that is burnt now was your letter.

I swear it to you!

You took good care to burn it before I had examined it.

I cannot trust you.

You, whose whole life is a lie,

how could you speak the truth about anything?

Think as you like about me.

Say what you choose against me, but go back.

Go back to the husband you love.

I do not love him.

[Mrs. Erlynne] You do, and you know that he loves you.

He does not understand what love is.

He understands it as little as you do,

but I see what you want.

It would be a great advantage for you to get me back.

Dear heaven, what a life I would have then.

Living at the mercy of a woman

who has neither mercy nor pity in her.

A woman whom it is an infamy to meet,

a degradation to know, a vile woman,

a woman who comes between husband and wife.

Lady Windermere, Lady Windermere,

don't say such terrible things.

You don't know how terrible they are.

How terrible and how unjust.

Listen, you must listen.

Only go back to your husband,

and I promise you never to communicate with him again

on any pretext, never to see him,

never to have anything to do with his life or yours.

The money that he gave me, he gave me not through love,

but through hatred, not in worship, but in contempt.

The hold I have over him-

Ah! You admit you have a hold.

Yes, and I will tell you what it is.

It is his love for you, Lady Windermere.

You expect me to believe that?

You must believe it. It is the truth.

It is his love for you that has made him submit to...

Call it what you like, tyranny, threats,

anything you choose, but it is his love for you.

His desire to spare you shame. Yes, shame and disgrace.

What do you mean? You are insolent.

What have I to do with you?

Nothing. I know it.

But I tell you that your husband loves you,

that you may never meet with such love again

in your whole life.

That such love you will never meet.

And that if you throw it away, again now,

the day may come when you will starve for love

and it will not be given to you.

Beg for love and it will be denied you.

Oh! Arthur loves you!

Arthur? And you tell me there is nothing between you?

Lady Windermere, before heaven,

your husband is guiltless of all offence towards you.

And I tell you that had it ever occurred to me,

that such a monstrous suspicion

would have entered your mind,

I would have died

rather than have crossed your life or his.

Oh! Died, gladly died.

You talk as if you had a heart.

Women like you have no hearts. Heart is not in you.

You are bought and sold.

Believe what you choose about me.

I am not worth a moment's sorrow.

But don't spoil your beautiful young life on my account.

You don't know what may be in store for you,

unless you leave this house at once.

You don't know what it is to fall into the pit,

to be despised, mocked, abandoned, sneered at,

to be an outcast.

To find the door shut against one.

To have to creep in by hideous byways,

afraid every moment

lest the mask should be stripped from one's face,

and all the while to hear the laughter,

the horrible laughter of the world,

a thing more tragic

than all the tears the world has ever shed.

You don't know what it is.

One pays for one's sin, and then one pays again.

And all one's life, one pays. You must never know that.

As for me, if suffering be an expiation,

then at this moment I have expiated all my faults,

whatever they have been.

For tonight you have made a heart in one who had it not.

Made it and broken it. But let that pass.

I may have wrecked my own life,

but I will not let you wreck yours.

You, why, you are a mere girl, you would be lost.

You haven't got the kind of brains

that enables a woman to get back.

You have neither the wit nor the courage.

You couldn't stand dishonour.

No, go back, Lady Windermere.

To the husband who loves you, whom you love.

You have a child, Lady Windermere.

Go back to that child who even now, in pain or in joy,

may be calling to you.

God gave you that child.

He will require from you that you make his life fine,

that you watch over him.

What answer will you make to God

if his life is ruined through you?

Back to your house, Lady Windermere.

Your husband loves you.

He has never wavered for a moment

from the love he bears you.

But even if he had a thousand loves,

you must stay with your child.

If he was harsh to you, you must stay with your child.

If he ill-treated you, you must stay with your child.

If he abandoned you, your place is with your child.

Lady Windermere!

Take me home. Take me home [sobbing].

Come! Where is your cloak?

Come. Put it on.

Come at once.

Stop! Don't you hear voices?

[Mrs. Erllynne] No, no! There was no one!

Yes, there is. Listen.

Oh! It is my husband's voice.

He is coming in. Save me.

Oh, it's some plot! You have sent for him.

Silence. I'm here to save you, if I can.

But I fear it maybe too late.

There!

The first chance you get, slip out,

-if you ever get a chance. -But you?

Oh, never mind me. I'll face them.

[Lord Augustus] Nonsense, you must not leave me.

Lord Augustus. Then it is I who am lost.

[men speaking faintly]

Damn nuisance their turning us out of the club

at this hour.

It's only two o'clock.

The lively part of the evening is only just beginning.

[Dumby groans]

That's very good of you, Darlington.

Allowing Augustus to force our company on you like this.

I can't stay lon, I'm afraid.

Really! I am so sorry.

You'll take a cigar, won't you?

Thank you.

My dear boy, you must not dream of going yet.

I have a great deal to talk to you about.

Of damn importance, too.

Oh! We all know what that is.

Tuppy can't talk about anything but Mrs. Erlynne.

Well, that is no business of yours, is it, Cecil?

None. That is why it interests me.

My own business always bores me to death.

I prefer other people's.

Have something to drink, you fellows.

Cecil, you'll have a whisky and soda?

Thanks.

Mrs. Erlynne looked very handsome tonight, didn't she?

I am not one of her admirers.

I usen't to be, but I am now.

Why, she actually made me introduce her

to poor dear Aunt Caroline.

I believe she is going to lunch there.

No.

She is, really.

Excuse me, you fellows.

I'm going away tomorrow. And I have to write a few letters.

[Dumby] Clever woman, Mrs. Erlynne.

Hello, Dumby! I thought you were asleep.

Oh yes, I am. I usually am!

A very clever woman.

Knows perfectly well what a damn fool I am,

knows it as well as I do myself.

[Cecil laughs]

Ah, you may laugh, my boy,

but it is a great thing to come across a woman

who thoroughly understands you.

It is an awfully dangerous thing.

They always end by marrying one.

But I thought, Tuppy,

you were never going to see her again.

Yes! You told me so yesterday evening at the club.

You said you'd heard [whispers].

Oh, she's explained that.

And the Wiesbaden affair?

She's explained that too.

And her income, Tuppy? Has she explained that?

She's going to explain that tomorrow.

Awfully commercial, women nowadays.

Our grandmothers threw their caps over the mills, of course,

but, by Jove, their granddaughters

only throw their caps over mills

that can raise the wind for them.

You want to make her out a wicked woman. She is not.

Oh, wicked women bother one. Good women bore one.

That is the only difference between them.

Mrs. Erlynne has a future before her.

Mrs. Erlynne has a past before her.

I prefer women with a past.

They're always so damn amusing to talk to.

Well, you'll have lots of topics of conversation

with her, Tuppy.

You're getting annoying, dear boy.

You're getting damn annoying.

Now, Tuppy, you've lost your figure

and you've lost your character.

Don't lose your temper, you have only got one.

My dear boy,

if I wasn't the most good-natured man in London -

We'd treat you with more respect, wouldn't we?

The youth of the present day are quite monstrous.

They have absolutely no respect for dyed hair.

Mrs. Erlynne has a very great respect for dear Tuppy.

Then Mrs. Erlynne sets an admirable example

to the rest of her sex.

It is perfectly brutal

the way most women nowadays behave to men

who are not even their husbands.

Dumby, you are ridiculous.

And Cecil, you let your tongue run away with you.

You really must leave Mrs. Erlynne like this.

You don't know anything about her,

and you're always talking scandal against her.

My dear Arthur, I never talk scandal. I only talk gossip.

What is the difference between scandal and gossip?

Gossip is charming, but history is merely gossip.

Scandal is gossip made tedious by morality.

Now, I never moralise.

A man who moralises is usually a hypocrite,

and a woman who moralises is invariably plain.

Just my sentiments, dear boy, just my sentiments.

Sorry to hear it, Tuppy.

Whenever people agree with me,

I always feel I must be wrong.

My dear boy, when I was your age-

But you never were, Tuppy, and you never will be.

I say, Darlington, let us have some cards.

You'll play, Arthur, won't you?

No, thanks, Cecil.

Good heavens! How marriage ruins a man.

It's as demoralising as cigarettes, and far more expensive.

[Cecil] You'll play, of course, Tuppy?

Can't, dear boy.

Promised Mrs. Erlynne never to play or drink again.

Now, my dear Tuppy, don't be led astray

into the paths of virtue.

Reformed, you would be perfectly tedious.

That is the worst of women.

They always want one to be good.

And if we are good, when they meet us,

they don't love us at all.

They like to find us quite irretrievably bad,

and to leave us quite unattractively good.

They always do find us bad.

[Dumby] I don't think we are bad.

I think we are all good, except Tuppy.

No, we are all in the gutter,

but some of us are looking at the stars.

We are all in the gutter,

but some of us are looking up at the...

Upon my word, you are very romantic tonight, Darlington.

Too romantic. You must be in love.

Who is the girl?

The woman I love is not free,

or at least thinks she isn't.

A married woman, then.

Well, there's nothing in the world

like the devotion of a married woman.

It's a thing no married man knows anything about.

No, she doesn't love me. She is a good woman.

The only good woman I have ever met in my life.

[Cecil] The only good woman

you have ever met in your life?

Yes!

Well, you are a lucky fellow!

Why, I have met hundreds of good women.

I never seem to meet any but good women.

The world is perfectly packed with good women.

To know them is a middle-class education.

This woman has purity and innocence.

She has everything that we men have lost.

[Cecil] My dear fellow,

what on earth should we men do

going about with purity and innocence?

A carefully thought-out buttonhole is much more effective.

[Dumby] She doesn't really love you then?

No, she does not!

Well, I congratulate you, my dear fellow.

In this world there are only two tragedies.

One is not getting what one wants,

and the other is getting it.

The last is much the worst. The last is the real tragedy.

But I am interested to hear you say she does not love you.

How long could you love a woman who didn't love you, Cecil?

A woman who didn't love me? Oh, all my life.

So could I. But it's so difficult to meet one.

How can you be so conceited, Dumby?

I didn't say it as a matter of conceit.

I said it as a matter of regret.

I have been wildly, madly adored.

I am sorry I have. It has been an immense nuisance.

I should like to be allowed

a little time to myself now and then.

[Lord Augustus] Time to educate yourself, I suppose.

[Dumby] No, time to forget all I have learned.

That's much more important, Tuppy.

What cynics you fellows are!

What is a cynic?

A man who knows the price of everything

and the value of nothing.

And a sentimentalist, my dear Darlington,

is a man who sees an absurd value in everything,

and doesn't know the market price of any single thing.

You always amuse me, Cecil.

You talk as if you were a man of experience.

I am.

You are far too young!

That is a great error.

Experience is a question of instinct about life.

I have got it. But Tuppy hasn't.

Experience is the name Tuppy gives to his mistakes.

That is all.

Experience is the name every one gives to their mistakes.

One shouldn't commit any.

[Dumby] Life would be awfully dull without them.

Of course you are quite faithful

to this woman you are in love with, Darlington.

To this good woman?

Cecil, if on really loves a woman,

all other women in the world

become absolutely meaningless to one.

Love changes one. I am changed.

Dear me. How very interesting.

Tuppy, I want to talk to you.

[Dumby] It's no use talking to Tuppy.

You might just as well talk to a brick wall.

But I like talking to a brick wall.

It's the only thing in the world that never contradicts me.

Tuppy!

Well, what is it? What is it?

Come over here. I want you particularly.

Darlington has been moralising

and talking about the purity of love

and that sort of thing,

and he has got some woman here in his rooms all the time.

No, really. Really?

Yes, here is her fan.

[Lord Augustus] By Jove! By Jove [laughing]!

I must be off now, Darlington.

I am sorry you are leaving England so soon.

Pray, call on my wife and I when you get back.

We'll be charmed to greet you.

I am afraid I shall be away for many years.

Arthur!

[Arthur] What?

I want to speak to you for a moment. No, but do come.

I can't. I'm off.

[Cecil] It is something very particular.

It will interest you enormously.

Is it some of your nonsense, Cecil.

It isn't! It isn't really.

My dear fellow, you mustn't go yet.

I have a lot to talk to you about.

And Cecil has something to show you.

Well, what is it?

Darlington has got a woman here in his rooms.

Here is her fan. Amusing, isn't it?

Good God!

What is the matter?

Lord Darlington!

Yes!

What is my wife's fan doing here in your rooms?

Hands off, Cecil. Don't touch me.

Your wife's fan?

Yes, here it is!

I don't know!

You must know. I demand an explanation.

Speak, sir! Why is my wife's fan here?

Answer me by God and I'll search your rooms,

-and if my wife- -You shall not

search my rooms, you have no right to do so.

I forbid you!

You scoundrel!

I'll not leave your room

till I have searched every corner of it.

Lord Windermere.

Mrs. Erlynne!

I am afraid I took your wife's fan

in mistake for my own,

when I was leaving your house tonight.

I am so sorry.

[soft music]

How can I tell him?

I can't tell him. It would kill me.

If he knows, how can I look him in the face again?

He would never forgive me.

How securely one thinks one lives.

Out of reach of temptation, sin, folly.

And then suddenly...

Life is terrible. It rules us, we do not rule it.

Did your ladyship ring for me?

Yes, have you found out at what time

Lord Windermere came in last night?

His lordship did not come in till five o'clock.

He knocked at my door this morning, didn't he?

Yes, my lady, at half-past nine.

I told him your ladyship was not awake yet.

Did he say anything?

Something about your ladyship's fan.

I didn't quite catch what his lordship said.

Has the fan been lost, my lady?

I can't find it,

and Parker says it was not left in any of the rooms.

He has looked in all of them and on the terrace as well.

It doesn't matter. Tell Parker not to trouble.

That will do.

She is sure to tell him.

Why should she hesitate between her ruin and mine?

There is a bitter irony in things,

a bitter irony in the way we talk of good and bad women.

Oh, what a lesson.

And what a pity that in life we only get our lessons

when they are of no use to us.

For even if she doesn't tell, I must.

To tell it is to live through it all again.

Actions are the first tragedy in life, words are the second.

Words are perhaps the worst. Words are merciless.

Good morning.

You look pale.

I slept very badly.

I am so sorry.

I didn't get in till very late,

and didn't like to wake you.

You are crying.

Yes, I am crying, Arthur,

for I have something to tell you.

My dear child, you are not well.

You've been doing too much. Let us go away to the country.

You'll be all right at Selby. The season is nearly over.

There is no use us staying on.

Poor darling. We'll go away today, if you like.

We can easily catch the 3:40.

Yes. I'll send a wire to Fannen.

Yes, let us go away today.

No, I can't go to day, Arthur.

There is someone I must see before I leave town.

Someone who has been kind to me.

Kind to you?

Far more than that.

I will tell you, Arthur, only love me.

Love me as you used to love me.

Used to?

You are not thinking of that wretched woman

who came here last night?

Don't think I-

I don't. I know now I was wrong and foolish.

It was very good of you to receive her last night,

but you are never to see her again.

Why do you say that?

I thought Mrs. Erlynne was a woman

more sinned against than sinning, as the phrase goes.

I thought she wanted to be good,

to get back into a position that she had lost

by a moment's folly, to live again a decent life.

I believed what she told me.

I was mistaken in her. She is bad.

As bad as a woman can be.

Arthur, Arthur, don't talk so bitterly

about any woman.

I don't think now that people can be divided

into the good and the bad

as though they were two separate races or creations.

What are called good women may have terrible things in them.

Mad moods of recklessness, assertion, jealousy, sin.

Bad women, as they are termed,

may have in them sorrow, repentance, pity, sacrifice.

And I don't think Mrs. Erlynne a bad woman.

I know she's not.

The woman's impossible.

Margaret, whatever harm she tries to do us,

you must never see her again.

She is inadmissible anywhere.

[Margaret] I want to see her. I want her to come here.

Never!

She came here once as your guest.

She must come now as mine. That is but fair.

She should never have come here.

It is too late, Arthur, to say that now.

Margaret, if you knew where Mrs. Erlynne went last night,

you would not sit in the same room with her.

It was absolutely shameless, the whole thing.

I can't bear it any longer. I must tell you.

Mrs. Erlynne has called, my lady.

To return your ladyship's fan

which she took away by mistake last night.

Mrs. Erlynne has written a message on the card.

Ask Mrs. Erlynne to be kind enough to come up.

Say I shall be very glad to see her.

She wants to see me, Arthur.

Margaret, let me see her first, at any rate.

She's a very dangerous woman.

The most dangerous woman I know.

You don't realise what you're doing.

It is right that I should see her.

Child, you may be on the brink of a great sorrow.

Don't go to meet it.

It is absolutely necessary

that I should see her first.

Why should it be necessary?

Mrs. Erlynne.

How do you do, Lady Windermere?

How do you do?

Do you know, Lady Windermere, I am so sorry about your fan.

I can't imagine how I made such a silly mistake.

Most stupid of me.

And as I was driving in your direction,

I thought I would take the opportunity

of returning your property in person

with many apologies for my carelessness,

and of bidding you goodbye.

Goodbye? Are you going away, then, Mrs. Erlynne?

Yes, I am going to live abroad.

The English climate doesn't suit me.

My heart is affected here, and that I don't like.

I prefer living in the south.

London is too full of fogs

and serious people, Lord Windermere.

Whether the fogs produce the serious people

or whether the serious people produce the fogs,

I don't know, but the whole thing rather gets on my nerves,

and so I'm leaving this afternoon by the club train.

This afternoon? But I wanted so much to come and see you.

How kind of you. But I am afraid I have to go.

Shall I never see you again, Mrs. Erlynne?

No. I am afraid not.

Our lives lie too far apart.

But there is a little thing I would like you to do for me.

I want a photograph of you, Lady Windermere.

Would you give me one?

You don't know how gratified I should be.

With pleasure. There is one in there, I'll show it to you.

It is monstrous you are intruding yourself here

after your behaviour last night.

My dear Windermere, manners before morals.

[door closing]

I'm afraid it is very flattering.

I am not so pretty as that.

You are much prettier.

But haven't you got one of yourself with your little boy?

I have. Would you prefer one of those?

Yes.

I'll go and get it for you, if you'll wait for a moment.

I have one upstairs.

So sorry, Lady Windermere, to give you so much trouble.

[Margaret] No trouble at all, Mrs. Erlynne.

Thanks so much.

You seem rather out of temper this morning, Windermere.

Why should you be?

Margaret and I are getting on charmingly together.

I can't bear to see you with her.

Besides, you have not told me the truth, Mrs. Erlynne.

I have not told her the truth, you mean.

I sometimes wish you had.

I should have been spared then the misery,

the anxiety, the annoyance of the last six months.

But rather than my wife know,

that the mother whom she was taught to consider as dead,

the mother whom she has mourned as dead, is living,

a divorced woman, going about under an assumed name.

A bad woman preying upon life,

as I know you now to be.

Rather than that,

I was ready to supply you with money to pay bill after bill,

extravagance after extravagance,

to risk what occurred last night.

The first quarrel I have ever had with my wife.

You don't understand what that means to me. How could you?

But I tell you this, the only bitter words

that ever came from those sweet lips of hers

were on your account.

And I hate to see you next her.

You sully the innocence that is in her.

And then I used to think that with all your faults

you were frank and honest.

You are not.

Why do you say that?

You made me get you an invitation to my wife's ball.

For my daughter's ball. Yes.

You came, and within an hour of your leaving the house,

you are found in a man's rooms.

You were disgraced before every one.

Yes.

I therefore have the right to look upon you

as what you are; a worthless, vicious woman.

I have the right to tell you never to enter this house,

never to attempt to come near my wife again.

My daughter, you mean.

You have no right to claim her as your daughter.

You left her, abandoned her

when she was but a child in the cradle,

abandoned her for your lover, who abandoned you in turn.

Do you count that to his credit, Lord Windermere

or to mine?

To his, now that I know you.

Take care. You had better be careful.

Oh, I am not gonna mince words for you.

I know you thoroughly.

I question that.

I do know you.

For twenty years of your life you lived without your child,

without a thought of your child.

One day you read in the papers

that she had married a rich man.

You saw your hideous chance.

You knew that to spare her

the ignominy of finding that a woman like you

was her mother.

I would endure anything. You began your blackmailing,

Don't use ugly words, Windermere. They are vulgar.

I saw my chance, it is true, and took it.

Yes, you took it and spoiled it all last night

by being found out.

You are quite right, I spoiled it all last night.

And as for your blunder in taking my wife's fan from here

and then leaving it about in Darlington's rooms,

it is unpardonable.

I can't bear the sight of it now.

I shall never let my wife use it again.

The thing is soiled for me.

You should have kept it and not brought it back.

I think I shall keep it.

I shall ask Margaret to give it to me,

it is extremely pretty.

I hope my wife will give it you.

Oh, I'm sure she will have no objection.

I wish that at the same time

she would give you a miniature she prays to every night

before she goes to sleep.

It's the miniature of a young innocent-looking girl

with beautiful dark hair.

Ah, yes, I remember. How long ago that seems.

It was done before I was married.

Dark hair and an innocent expression

were the fashion then, Windermere.

What do you mean by coming here this morning?

What is your object?

To bid goodbye to my dear daughter, of course.

Oh, don't imagine

I am going to have a pathetic scene with her,

weep on her neck and tell her who I am,

and all that kind of thing.

I have no ambition to play the part of a mother.

Only once in my life have I known a mother's feelings.

That was last night.

They were terrible. They made me suffer.

They made me suffer too much.

For 20 years, as you say, I have lived childless.

I want to live childless still.

Besides, my dear Windermere,

how on earth could I pose as a mother

of a grown-up daughter?

Margaret is 21,

and I have never admitted

that I am more than 29, or 30 at the most.

29 when there are pink shades,

thirty when there are not.

So you see what difficulties it would involve.

Now, as far as I am concerned,

let your wife cherish the memory

of this dead, stainless mother.

Why should I interfere with her illusions?

I find it hard enough to keep my own.

I lost one illusion last night.

I thought I had no heart.

I find I have, and a heart doesn't suit me, Windermere.

Somehow it doesn't go with modern dress.

It makes one look old.

And it spoils one's career at critical moments.

You fill me with horror. Absolute horror.

I suppose, Windermere,

you would like me to retire into a convent,

or become a hospital nurse,

or something of that kind,

as people do in silly modern novels.

That is stupid of you, Arthur.

In real life we don't do such things

not as long as we have any good looks left, at any rate.

No, what consoles one nowadays

is not repentance, but pleasure.

Repentance is quite out of date.

Besides, if a woman really repents,

she has to go to a bad dressmaker,

otherwise no one believes in her.

And nothing in the world would induce me to do that.

No, I am going to pass entirely out of your two lives.

My coming into them has been a mistake.

I discovered that last night.

A fatal mistake.

Almost fatal.

I wish now that I'd told my wife the whole thing at once.

I regret my bad actions. You regret your good ones.

That is the difference between us.

I don't trust you. I think I will tell my her.

It is better for her to know, and from me.

It will cause her infinite pain,

it will humiliate her terribly,

but it's right that she should know.

You propose to tell her?

I am going to tell her.

If you do, I will make my name so infamous

it will mar every moment of her life.

It will ruin her, and make her wretched.

If you dare to tell her,

there is no depth of degradation I will not sink to,

no pit of shame I will not enter.

You shall not tell her. I forbid you.

Why?

If I said to you that I cared for her,

perhaps loved her even, you would sneer at me, wouldn't you?

I should feel it was not true.

A mother's love means devotion, unselfishness, sacrifice.

What could you know of such things?

You are quite right.

What could I know of such things?

Don't let us talk any more.

As for telling my daughter who I am, that I do not allow.

It is my secret, it is not yours.

If I make up my mind to tell her, and I think I will,

I will tell her before I leave the house.

If not, I shall never tell her.

Then let me beg of you to leave our house at once.

I shall make your excuses to Margaret.

I am so sorry, Mrs. Erlynne,

to have kept you waiting.

I couldn't find the photograph anywhere.

At last I discovered it in my husband's dressing room.

He had stolen it.

I am not surprised. It is charming.

And so that is your little boy. What is he called?

Gerard, after my dear father.

Really?

Yes, if it had been a girl,

I would have called it after my mother.

My mother had the same name as myself, Margaret.

My name is Margaret too.

-Indeed! -Yes.

You are devoted to your mother's memory, Lady Windermere,

your husband tells me.

We all have ideals in life. At least we all should have.

Mine is my mother.

Ideals are dangerous things. Realities are better.

They wound, but they're better.

If I lost my ideals, I should lose everything.

-Everything? -Yes.

Did your father often speak to you of your mother?

No, it gave him too much pain.

He told me how my mother had died

a few months after I was born.

His eyes filled with tears as he spoke.

Then he begged me never to mention her name to him again.

It made him suffer even to hear it.

My father really died of a broken heart.

His was the most ruined life know.

I am afraid I must go now, Lady Windermere.

Oh no, don't.

I think I had better.

My carriage must have come back by this time.

I sent it to Lady Jedburgh's with a note.

Arthur, would you mind seeing

if Mrs. Erlynne's carriage has come back?

Pray, don't trouble, Lord Windermere.

Yes, Arthur, do go, please.

Oh! What am I to say to you?

You saved me last night.

Hush. Don't speak of it.

I must speak of it.

I can't let you think I am going to accept this sacrifice.

I am not. It is too great.

I am going to tell my husband everything. It is my duty.

It is not your duty.

At least you have duties to others besides him.

You say you owe me something?

I owe you everything.

Then pay your debt by silence.

That is the only way in which it can be paid.

Don't spoil the one good thing I have done in my life

by telling it to any one.

Promise me that what passed last night

will remain a secret between us.

You must not bring misery into your husband's life.

Why spoil his love? You must not spoil it.

Love is easily killed. Oh, how easily love is killed.

Pledge me your word, Lady Windermere,

that you will never tell him.

I insist upon it.

It is your will, not mine.

Yes, it is my will. And never forget your child.

I like to think of you as a mother.

I like you to think of yourself as one.

I always will now.

Only once in my life I have forgotten my own mother,

that was last night.

Oh, if I had remembered her

I should not have been so foolish, so wicked.

Hush, last night is quite over.

Your carriage has not come back yet, Mrs. Erlynne.

It makes no matter. I shall take a hansom.

There is nothing in the world so respectable

as a good Shrewsbury and Talbot.

And now, dear Lady Windermere,

I am afraid it is really goodbye.

Oh, I remember.

You'll think me absurd, but do you know,

I have taken a great fancy to this fan

that I was silly enough to run away with last night

from your ball.

Now, I wonder would you give it to me?

Lord Windermere says you may. I know it is his present.

Oh, certainly, if it will give you any pleasure.

But it had my name on it. It has "Margaret" on it.

But we share the same Christian name.

Oh, I forgot. Of course, do have it.

What a wonderful chance our names being the same.

Quite wonderful. Thanks, it will always remind me of you.

Lord Augustus Lorton. Mrs. Erlynne's carriage has come.

Good morning, dear boy.

Good morning, Lady Windermere. Mrs. Erlynne.

How do you do, Lord Augustus?

Are you quite well this morning?

Quite well, thank you, Mrs. Erlynne.

You don't look at all well, Lord Augustus.

You stop up too late. It is so bad for you.

You really should take more care of yourself.

Goodbye, Lord Windermere.

Lord Augustus, won't you see me to my carriage?

You might carry the fan.

Allow me.

No, I want Lord Augustus.

I have a special message for the dear Duchess.

Won't you carry the fan, Lord Augustus?

If you really desire it, Mrs. Erlynne.

[laughing] well, of course I do.

You'll carry it so gracefully.

You would carry off anything gracefully, dear Lord Augustus.

You will never speak

against Mrs. Erlynne again, Arthur, will you?

She is better than one thought her.

She is better than I am.

Child, you and she live in different worlds.

Into your world evil has never entered.

Don't say that, Arthur.

There is the same world for all of us,

and good and evil, sin and innocence,

go through it hand in hand.

To shut one's eyes to half of life

that one may live securely is as though one blinded oneself

that one might walk with more safety

in a land of pit and precipice.

Darling, why do you say that?

Because I, who had shut my eyes to life,

came to the brink.

And one who had separated us -

We were never separated.

We never must be again.

Oh. Arthur, don't love me less, and I will trust you more.

I will trust you absolutely.

Let us go to Selby.

In the Rose Garden at Selby the roses are white and red.

Arthur, she has explained everything.

My dear boy, she has explained every damned thing.

We all wronged her immensely.

It was entirely for my sake she went to Darlington's rooms.

Called first at the club.

Fact is, wanted to put me out of suspense.

And being told I had gone on, followed.

Naturally frightened

when she heard a lot of us coming in,

retired to another room.

I assure you, most gratifying to me, the whole thing.

We all behaved brutally to her.

She is just the woman for me. Suits me down to the ground.

The only conditions she makes

are that we live entirely out of England.

A very good thing too. Damned clubs, damned climate,

damned cooks, damned everything.

Sick of it all!

Has Mrs. Erlynne-

Yes, Lady Windermere.

Mrs. Erlynne has done me the honour of accepting my hand.

Well, Tuppy,

you are certainly marrying a very clever woman.

Ah, you're marrying a very good woman.

[soft music]