SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [_Frowning_.] Ah! yes. I remember hearing, at the time of his death, that he had been mixed up in the whole affair.
MRS. CHEVELEY. It was his last romance. His last but one, to do him justice.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [_Rising_.] But you have not seen my Corots yet.
They are in the music-room. Corots seem to go with music, don"t they?
May I show them to you?
MRS. CHEVELEY. [_Shaking her head_.] I am not in a mood to-night for silver twilights, or rose-pink dawns. I want to talk business.
[_Motions to him with her fan to sit down again beside her_.]
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I fear I have no advice to give you, Mrs. Cheveley, except to interest yourself in something less dangerous. The success of the Ca.n.a.l depends, of course, on the att.i.tude of England, and I am going to lay the report of the Commissioners before the House to-morrow night.
MRS. CHEVELEY. That you must not do. In your own interests, Sir Robert, to say nothing of mine, you must not do that.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [_Looking at her in wonder_.] In my own interests?
My dear Mrs. Cheveley, what do you mean? [_Sits down beside her_.]
MRS. CHEVELEY. Sir Robert, I will be quite frank with you. I want you to withdraw the report that you had intended to lay before the House, on the ground that you have reasons to believe that the Commissioners have been prejudiced or misinformed, or something. Then I want you to say a few words to the effect that the Government is going to reconsider the question, and that you have reason to believe that the Ca.n.a.l, if completed, will be of great international value. You know the sort of things ministers say in cases of this kind. A few ordinary plat.i.tudes will do. In modern life nothing produces such an effect as a good plat.i.tude. It makes the whole world kin. Will you do that for me?
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Mrs. Cheveley, you cannot be serious in making me such a proposition!
MRS. CHEVELEY. I am quite serious.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [_Coldly_.] Pray allow me to believe that you are not.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [_Speaking with great deliberation and emphasis_.] Ah!
but I am. And if you do what I ask you, I ... will pay you very handsomely!
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Pay me!
MRS. CHEVELEY. Yes.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I am afraid I don"t quite understand what you mean.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [_Leaning back on the sofa and looking at him_.] How very disappointing! And I have come all the way from Vienna in order that you should thoroughly understand me.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I fear I don"t.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [_In her most nonchalant manner_.] My dear Sir Robert, you are a man of the world, and you have your price, I suppose.
Everybody has nowadays. The drawback is that most people are so dreadfully expensive. I know I am. I hope you will be more reasonable in your terms.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [_Rises indignantly_.] If you will allow me, I will call your carriage for you. You have lived so long abroad, Mrs.
Cheveley, that you seem to be unable to realise that you are talking to an English gentleman.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [_Detains him by touching his arm with her fan_, _and keeping it there while she is talking_.] I realise that I am talking to a man who laid the foundation of his fortune by selling to a Stock Exchange speculator a Cabinet secret.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [_Biting his lip_.] What do you mean?
MRS. CHEVELEY. [_Rising and facing him_.] I mean that I know the real origin of your wealth and your career, and I have got your letter, too.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. What letter?
MRS. CHEVELEY. [_Contemptuously_.] The letter you wrote to Baron Arnheim, when you were Lord Radley"s secretary, telling the Baron to buy Suez Ca.n.a.l shares-a letter written three days before the Government announced its own purchase.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [_Hoa.r.s.ely_.] 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 pa.s.sed 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 ca.n.a.l.
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 n.o.body 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-cla.s.s. 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 pa.s.ses 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. CHEVELEY. Yes. That is agreed. I will be in the Ladies" Gallery to-morrow night at half-past eleven. If by that time-and you will have had heaps of opportunity-you have made an announcement to the House in the terms I wish, I shall hand you back your letter with the prettiest thanks, and the best, or at any rate the most suitable, compliment I can think of. I intend to play quite fairly with you. One should always play fairly ... when one has the winning cards. The Baron taught me that ... amongst other things.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. You must let me have time to consider your proposal.