An Ideal Husband | Page 8

- a letter
written three days before the Government announced its own purchase.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [Hoarsely.] It is not true.
MRS. CHEVELEY. You thought that letter had been destroyed. How foolish of you! It is
in my possession.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. The affair to which you allude was no more than a
speculation. The House of Commons had not yet passed the bill; it might have been
rejected.
MRS. CHEVELEY. It was a swindle, Sir Robert. Let us call things by their proper names.
It makes everything simpler. And now I am going to sell you that letter, and the price I
ask for it is your public support of the Argentine scheme. You made your own fortune out
of one canal. You must help me and my friends to make our fortunes out of another!
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. It is infamous, what you propose - infamous!
MRS. CHEVELEY. Oh, no! This is the game of life as we all have to play it, Sir Robert,
sooner or later!
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I cannot do what you ask me.
MRS. CHEVELEY. You mean you cannot help doing it. You know you are standing on
the edge of a precipice. And it is not for you to make terms. It is for you to accept them.
Supposing you refuse -
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. What then?
MRS. CHEVELEY. My dear Sir Robert, what then? You are ruined, that is all!
Remember to what a point your Puritanism in England has brought you. In old days
nobody pretended to be a bit better than his neighbours. In fact, to be a bit better than
one's neighbour was considered excessively vulgar and middle-class. Nowadays, with our

modern mania for morality, every one has to pose as a paragon of purity, incorruptibility,
and all the other seven deadly virtues - and what is the result? You all go over like
ninepins - one after the other. Not a year passes in England without somebody
disappearing. Scandals used to lend charm, or at least interest, to a man - now they crush
him. And yours is a very nasty scandal. You couldn't survive it. If it were known that as a
young man, secretary to a great and important minister, you sold a Cabinet secret for a
large sum of money, and that that was the origin of your wealth and career, you would be
hounded out of public life, you would disappear completely. And after all, Sir Robert,
why should you sacrifice your entire future rather than deal diplomatically with your
enemy? For the moment I am your enemy. I admit it! And I am much stronger than you
are. The big battalions are on my side. You have a splendid position, but it is your
splendid position that makes you so vulnerable. You can't defend it! And I am in attack.
Of course I have not talked morality to you. You must admit in fairness that I have spared
you that. Years ago you did a clever, unscrupulous thing; it turned out a great success.
You owe to it your fortune and position. And now you have got to pay for it. Sooner or
later we have all to pay for what we do. You have to pay now. Before I leave you to-night,
you have got to promise me to suppress your report, and to speak in the House in favour
of this scheme.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. What you ask is impossible.
MRS. CHEVELEY. You must make it possible. You are going to make it possible. Sir
Robert, you know what your English newspapers are like. Suppose that when I leave this
house I drive down to some newspaper office, and give them this scandal and the proofs
of it! Think of their loathsome joy, of the delight they would have in dragging you down,
of the mud and mire they would plunge you in. Think of the hypocrite with his greasy
smile penning his leading article, and arranging the foulness of the public placard.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Stop! You want me to withdraw the report and to make a
short speech stating that I believe there are possibilities in the scheme?
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Sitting down on the sofa.] Those are my terms.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [In a low voice.] I will give you any sum of money you
want.
MRS. CHEVELEY. Even you are not rich enough, Sir Robert, to buy back your past. No
man is.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I will not do what you ask me. I will not.
MRS. CHEVELEY. You have to. If you don't . . . [Rises from the sofa.]
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [Bewildered and unnerved.] Wait a moment! What did you
propose? You said that you would give me back my letter, didn't you?
MRS.