[YAWN]
ALGERNON: Did you hear what I was playing just now, Lane?
LANE: I didn't think it polite to listen, sir.
ALGERNON: I'm sorry for that, for your sake. I don't play accurately-- anyone can play accurately-- but I play with wonderful expression. As far as the piano is concerned, sentiment is my forte. I keep science for life.
LANE: Yes, sir.
ALGERNON: And speaking of the science of life, have you got the cucumber sandwiches cut for Lady Bracknell?
LANE: Yes, sir.
ALGERNON: Where are they?
LANE: Here, sir.
ALGERNON: Lane, I was reading your book that on Thursday night when Lord Shoreman and Mr. Worthing were dining with me, eight bottles of champagne are entered as having been consumed.
LANE: Yes, sir-- eight bottles and a pint.
ALGERNON: Now, why is it that at a bachelor's establishment the servants invariably drink champagne? I ask merely for information.
LANE: I attribute to the superior quality of the wine, sir. I have often observed that in married households the champagne is rarely of a first-rate brand.
ALGERNON: Good heavens. Is marriage so demoralizing as that?
LANE: I believe it is a very pleasant state, sir. I have had very little experience of it myself, up to the present. I have only been married once. That was the consequence of a misunderstanding between myself and the young person.
ALGERNON: I don't know that I'm much interested in your family life, Lane.
LANE: No sir. It is not a very interesting subject. I never think of it myself.
ALGERNON: And very natural, I'm sure. That will do, Lane. Thank you.
LANE: Thank you, sir.
ALGERNON: Just leave the cucumber sandwiches.
LANE: Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.
ALGERNON: Lane's views on marriage seem somewhat lax. Really, if the lower orders don't set us a good example, what on earth is the use of them? They seem, as a class, to have absolutely no sense of their moral responsibilities.
LANE: Mr. Worthing.
ALGERNON: How are you, my dear Ernest? What brings you to town?
JACK: Oh, pleasure, pleasure. What else should bring one anywhere? Eating as usual I see, Algy.
ALGERNON: I believe it is customary to take some slight refreshment at 5 o'clock. Where have you been since last Thursday?
JACK: Oh, in the country.
ALGERNON: What on earth do you do there?
JACK: When one is in town, one amuses oneself. When one is in the country, one amuses other people.
ALGERNON: And who are the people you amuse?
JACK: Oh, neighbors, neighbors.
ALGERNON: Got nice neighbors in your part of Shropshire?
JACK: Perfectly horrid. Never speak to one of them.
ALGERNON: How immensely you must amuse them. Shropshire is your county, Ernest, isn't it?
JACK: Hey? Shropshire? Yes, of course. Hello! Why all these cups? Why cucumber sandwiches? Who's coming to tea?
ALGERNON: Oh, merely my Aunt Augusta and Gwendolen.
JACK: How perfectly delightful.
ALGERNON: Yes, that's all very well. But I'm afraid Aunt Augusta won't quite approve of your being here.
JACK: May I ask why?
ALGERNON: My dear fellow, the way you flirt with Gwendolen is perfectly disgraceful. It is almost as bad as the way Gwendolen flirts with you.
JACK: I'm in love with Gwendolen. I've come up to town expressly to propose to her.
ALGERNON: I thought you'd come up for pleasure. Please don't touch the cucumber sandwiches. They're ordered especially for aunt Augusta.
JACK: Well, have been eating them all the time.
ALGERNON: That is quite a different matter. She's my aunt. Have some bread and butter. The bread and butter is for Gwendolen Gwendolen is devoted to bread and butter.
JACK: Mmm, very good bread and butter it is, too.
ALGERNON: Well, my dear fellow, you need not eat it all. You behave just as if you were married to her already. You are not married to her already, and I don't think you ever will be.
JACK: Why on earth do you say that?
ALGERNON: Well, in the first place, I don't give my consent.
JACK: Your consent? What utter nonsense you talk.
ALGERNON: My dear fellow, Gwendolen is my first cousin. And before I allow you to marry her, you will have to clear up the whole question of Cicely.
JACK: Cecily?
[BELL RINGING]
What on earth do you mean? What you mean, Algy, by Cecily? I don't know anyone of the name of Cecily, as far as I remember.
LANE: You rang, sir?
ALGERNON: Bring me that cigarette case Mr. Worthing left in the hall the last time he dined here.
LANE: Yes, sir.
JACK: Do you mean to say you have had my cigarette case all this time? I wish to goodness you had let me know. I've been writing frantic letters to Scotland Yard about it. I was very nearly offering a reward.
ALGERNON: Well, I wish you would offer one. I happen to be more than usually hard up.
JACK: There's no good offering a reward now that the thing is found.
LANE: The cigarette case, sir.
ALGERNON: Thank you, Lane.
LANE: Thank you, sir.
ALGERNON: I must say, I think it's rather mean of you, Ernest. However, it makes no matter, for now that I look at the inscription inside, I find that the thing isn't yours after all.
JACK: Oh, of course it is mine. You've seen me with it 100 times, and you have no right whatsoever to read what is written inside. It is a very ungentlemanly thing to read a private cigarette case.
ALGERNON: Yes, but this isn't your cigarette case. This cigarette case is a present from someone of the name of Cecily, and you said you didn't know anyone of that name.
JACK: I said I didn't remember knowing anyone of that name. I do remember now. She is my aunt.
ALGERNON: Your aunt?
JACK: Yes. Charming old lady, she is, too-- lives at Tunbridge Wells. Just give it back to me, Algy.
ALGERNON: But, why does she call herself little Cecily if she is your aunt and lives at Tunbridge Wells? From little Cecily, with her fondest love.
JACK: My dear fellow, what on earth is there in that? Some aunts are tall. Some aunts are not tall. That is a matter that surely an aunt may be allowed to decide for herself. You seem to think that everyone should be exactly like your aunt. That is absurd. For heaven's sake, give me back my cigarette case.
ALGERNON: Yes, but why does your aunt call you her uncle? From little Cecily, with her fondest love, to dear Uncle Jack. There is no objection, I admit, to not being a small aunt. But why an aunt-- no matter what her size may be-- should call her own nephew her uncle, I can't make out. Besides, your name isn't Jack at all. It is Ernest.
JACK: It isn't Ernest. It's Jack.
ALGERNON: You've always told me it was Ernest. I've introduced you to everyone as Ernest. You answer to know the name of Ernest. You look as if your name was Ernest. It's perfectly absurd your saying that your name isn't Ernest. Oh, why it's on your cards. Here's one of them. Mr. Ernest Worthing, B4, The Albany.
Now, I'll keep this as proof that your name is Ernest. If you ever intend to deny it, to me, or to Gwendolen, or to anybody else.
JACK: Well, my name is Ernest in town and Jack in the country. And the cigarette case was given to me in the country.
ALGERNON: Yes, but that does not account for the fact that your small aunt Cecily who lives at Tunbridge Wells calls you her dear uncle. Come on, old boy, you'd much better have the thing out at once.
JACK: My dear, Algy, you talk exactly as if you were a dentist. It is very vulgar to talk like a dentist when one isn't a dentist. It produces a false impression.
ALGERNON: Well, that is exactly what dentists always do. Now go on, tell me the whole thing. I may mention that I've always suspected you of being a confirmed and secret Bunburyist. And now I'm quite sure of it.
JACK: What on earth do you mean by Bunburyist?
ALGERNON: I'll reveal to you the meaning of that incomparable expression as soon as you are kind enough to inform me why you are Ernest in town and Jack in the country.
JACK: Well, produce my cigarette case first.
ALGERNON: Here it is.
JACK: Thank you.
ALGERNON: Now produce your explanation. And pray, make it remarkable.
JACK: My dear fellow, there is nothing remarkable about this explanation at all. In fact, it is perfectly ordinary. Old Mr. Thomas Cardew, who adopted me when I was a little boy under rather peculiar circumstances and left me all the money I possess, made me in his will guardian to his granddaughter Miss Cecily Cardew. Cecily, who addresses me as her uncle from motives of respect, resides at my place in the country under the charge of her admirable governess, Miss Prism.
ALGERNON: Where is that place in the country, by the way?
JACK: That is nothing to you, dear boy. You are not going to be invited. I may tell you candidly that the place is not in Shropshire.
ALGERNON: I suspected that, my dear fellow. I've Bunburyed all over Shropshire on two separate occasions. Now, go on. Why are you Jack in the country and Ernest in town?
JACK: My dear Algy, I don't know whether you will be able to understand my real motives. You are hardly serious enough. When one is placed in the position of a guardian, one has to adopt a very high moral tone on all subjects. It is one's duty to do so. And as high moral tone can hardly be said to conduce very much to either one's health or happiness if carried to excess, in order to get up to town I've always pretended I have a younger brother of the name of Ernest, who lives in the Albany and gets into the most dreadful scrapes. That, my dear Algy, is the whole truth pure and simple.
ALGERNON: The truth is rarely pure and never simple. What you really are is a Bunburyist. I was quite right in saying you were a Bunburyist. You're one of the most advanced Bunburyists I know.
JACK: What on earth do you mean?
ALGERNON: You have invented a very useful younger brother called Ernest in order that you may be able to come up to town as often as you like. I have invented an invaluable permanent invalid called Bunbury in order that I may go into the country whenever I choose.
JACK: What nonsense.
ALGERNON: It isn't nonsense. Bunbury is perfectly invaluable. If it wasn't for Bunbury's extraordinarily bad health, for instance, I wouldn't be able to dine with you at Willis's tonight, for I have been really engaged to aunt Augusta for more than a week.
JACK: I haven't asked you to dine with me anywhere tonight.
ALGERNON: I know. You were absurdly careless about sending out invitations-- very foolish of you. Nothing annoys people as much as not receiving invitations.
JACK: You had much better dine with your aunt Augusta.
ALGERNON: I haven't the smallest intention of doing anything of the kind. To begin with, I dined there on Monday, and once a week is quite enough to dine with one's own relations. In the second place, whenever I do dine there, I'm always treated as a member of the family and sent down with either no woman at all or two. In the third place, I know perfectly well whom she will place me next to tonight. She will place me next to Mary Farquhar, who always flirts with her own husband across the dinner table. That is not very pleasant. Indeed, it is not even decent. And that sort of thing is enormously on the increase. The amount of women in London who flirt with their own husbands is perfectly scandalous. It looks so bad. But it's simply washing one's clean linen in public. Besides, now that I know you to be a confirmed Bunburyist, I naturally want to talk to you about Bunburying. I want to tell you the rules.
JACK: I am not a Bunburyist at all. If Gwendolen accepts me, I shall naturally kill my brother. Indeed, I think I'll kill him in any case. Cecily is a good deal too much interested in him. She is always asking me to forgive him and that sort of thing. So, I'm going to get rid of Ernest, and I strongly advise you to do the same with your friend Bunbury.
ALGERNON: I have not the slightest intention of doing anything of the kind. And if you ever get married, which seems to me extremely problematic, you will be very glad to know Bunbury. A man who marries without knowing Bunbury has a very tedious time of it.
JACK: Do you always really understand what you say, Algy?
ALGERNON: Yes, if I listen attentively.
[DOORBELL RINGS]
Ahh, that must be aunt Augusta. Only relatives or creditors ever ring in that Wagnerian manner. Now, if I get aunt Augusta out of the way for 10 minutes so that you can have an opportunity of proposing to Gwendolen, may I dine with you tonight Willis's?
JACK: Oh, I suppose so, if you want to.
ALGERNON: But you must be serious about it. I hate people who are not serious about meals. It's so shallow of them.