What more can one desire?
Jack. It pains me very much to have to speak frankly to you, Lady
Bracknell, about your nephew, but the fact is that I do not approve at
all of his moral character. I suspect him of being untruthful. [Algernon
and Cecily look at him in indignant amazement.]
Lady Bracknell. Untruthful! My nephew Algernon? Impossible! He is an
Oxonian.
Jack. I fear there can be no possible doubt about the matter. This
afternoon during my temporary absence in London on an important question
of romance, he obtained admission to my house by means of the false
pretence of being my brother. Under an assumed name he drank, I've just
been informed by my butler, an entire pint bottle of my Perrier-Jouet,
Brut, '89; wine I was specially reserving for myself. Continuing his
disgraceful deception, he succeeded in the course of the afternoon in
alienating the affections of my only ward. He subsequently stayed to
tea, and devoured every single muffin. And what makes his conduct all
the more heartless is, that he was perfectly well aware from the first
that I have no brother, that I never had a brother, and that I don't
intend to have a brother, not even of any kind. I distinctly told him so
myself yesterday afternoon.
Lady Bracknell. Ahem! Mr. Worthing, after careful consideration I have
decided entirely to overlook my nephew's conduct to you.
Jack. That is very generous of you, Lady Bracknell. My own decision,
however, is unalterable. I decline to give my consent.
Lady Bracknell. [To Cecily.] Come here, sweet child. [Cecily goes
over.] How old are you, dear?
Cecily. Well, I am really only eighteen, but I always admit to twenty
when I go to evening parties.
Lady Bracknell. You are perfectly right in making some slight
alteration. Indeed, no woman should ever be quite accurate about her
age. It looks so calculating . . . [In a meditative manner.] Eighteen,
but admitting to twenty at evening parties. Well, it will not be very
long before you are of age and free from the restraints of tutelage. So
I don't think your guardian's consent is, after all, a matter of any
importance.
Jack. Pray excuse me, Lady Bracknell, for interrupting you again, but it
is only fair to tell you that according to the terms of her grandfather's
will Miss Cardew does not come legally of age till she is thirty-five.
Lady Bracknell. That does not seem to me to be a grave objection. Thirty-
five is a v
|