ACT TWO
SCENE 1
Mr. Podgers’ Consulting Room on West Moon Street.
Enter MR. PODGERS, and LORD ARTHUR SAVILE.
PODGERS: May I congratulate you, Lord Arthur, on the successful resolution of your little problem?
LORD ARTHUR: No, Mr. Podgers, you may not.
PODGERS: But I don’t understand, my lord. The death of Lady Clementina Beauchamp was announced in all the newspapers.
LORD ARTHUR: Oh, yes, Lady Clem died all right - but from natural causes.
PODGERS: So the newspapers said. But I thought that was how you wished it to appear? Surely you do not want anyone
to suspect that she was poisoned?
LORD ARTHUR: She was not poisoned. She really did die from natural causes.
PODGERS: You did not give her the capsule?
LORD ARTHUR: Oh, yes, I gave it to her all right, but she died without taking it. Sybil found it when we were going
through her things.
PODGERS: How very disappointing, Lord Arthur. So you have not managed to commit your murder after all?
LORD ARTHUR: No, I have not. And as a result I have had to postpone my marriage, which has upset Sybil no end, to say
nothing of her father and mother.
PODGERS: Most unfortunate, my lord. So what do you intend to do now?
LORD ARTHUR: That is what I have come to consult you about, Mr. Podgers.
PODGERS: I’m afraid I am expecting a client, my lord.
LORD ARTHUR: I have brought you a cheque for another hundred guineas. (Hands him a cheque.)
PODGERS: Most generous, Lord Arthur. I am sure I can put off my client for the moment. How may I be of service to you?
LORD ARTHUR: As poison has proved to be a total failure, I thought I might try something completely different.
PODGERS: What sort of thing did your lordship have in mind?
LORD ARTHUR: Dynamite or some other form of explosive, I thought.
PODGERS: Really? Do you have a victim in mind?
LORD ARTHUR: Oh, yes. My uncle, the Dean of Chichester. If a member of the clergy is not prepared to meet his end,
then who is?
PODGERS: Quite. A wise choice, my lord, if I may say so. The Dean, as I remember from meeting him at dear Lady
Windermere’s, is a man of great culture and learning, who is extremely fond of clocks.
LORD ARTHUR: Exactly. He has a wonderful collection of timepieces, ranging from the fifteenth century to the
present day, and it seems to me that this hobby of the good Dean’s offers me an excellent opportunity for carrying
out my scheme.
PODGERS: But I don’t understand why you have come to me.
LORD ARTHUR: I thought you might know somebody who would be able to assist me in the matter of explosives. The
London Directory is no help on the point, and I feel that there is very little use in going to Scotland Yard about
it, as they never seem to know anything about the movements of the dynamite faction till after an explosion has
taken place, and not much even then.
PODGERS: I see. Well, my lord, your timing is most fortuitous. It just so happens that the client I am expecting
might be able to help you.
LORD ARTHUR: Really? Who is he?
PODGERS: Herr Winckelkopf, as he is called in England, is a German gentleman of revolutionary tendencies. He
comes to consult me on a regular basis about the prospects for revolution in England.
LORD ARTHUR: Fairly remote, I would have thought. The English require a time-lag of at least a century between
the perception that something ought to be done and any serious attempt to do it.
(The sound of a door knocker is heard.)
PODGERS: Ah, that will be Herr Winckelkopf. He always knocks on the door in a thoroughly Germanic manner.
LORD ARTHUR: There is no need to tell him who I really am.
PODGERS: Of course not. What name do you suggest?
LORD ARTHUR: Smith. Robert Smith.
PODGERS: Very good, my lord.
(There is another, louder knock on the door.)
PODGERS: Please excuse me a moment, while I let in Herr Winckelkopf .
(Exit PODGERS. He returns a moment later with HERR WINCKELKOPF.)
PODGERS: Herr Winckelkopf, may I introduce Mr. Robert Smith.
WINCKELKOPF: Charmed to meet you, Lord Arthur.
LORD ARTHUR: But…
WINCKELKOPF: Don’t look so alarmed, my lord. It is my duty to know everybody, and I remember seeing you one
evening at Lady Windermere’s. I hope her ladyship is quite well?
LORD ARTHUR: Oh! Um … yes, quite well, I believe.
WINCKELKOPF: Good. Good. Such a charming lady. Now, Mr. Podgers tells me that there may be something I can do for you?
LORD ARTHUR: Yes. I want you to supply me with an explosive machine.
WINCKELKOPF: You are taking a serious interest in politics, Lord Arthur?
LORD ARTHUR: I have not the slightest interest in social questions, Herr Winkelkopf. I simply want the explosive
machine for a purely family matter, in which no one is concerned but myself.
WINCKELKOPF: What kind of machine did you wish for?
LORD ARTHUR: An explosive clock.
WINCKELKOPF: Ah! Explosive clocks are not very good things for foreign exportation, as, even if they succeed in
passing the Custom House, the train service is so irregular, that they usually go off before they have reached their
proper destination.
LORD ARTHUR: I do not want it for foreign exportation.
WINCKELKOPF: Ah! If you want it for home use, I can supply you with an excellent article, and guarantee that you
will be satisfied with the result.
LORD ARTHUR: Very good.
WINCKELKOPF: May I ask for whom it is intended?
LORD ARTHUR: I do not think it is necessary for you to know that.
WINCKELKOPF: If it is for the police, or for any one connected with Scotland Yard, I am afraid I cannot do anything
for you.
LORD ARTHUR: Really? I would have thought that you would be delighted to get rid of a policeman or two.
WINCKELKOPF: Not at all. The English detectives are really our best friends, and I have always found that by relying
on their stupidity, we can do exactly what we like. I could not spare one of them.
LORD ARTHUR: Well, I assure you that it has nothing to do with the police at all. In fact, the clock is intended for
the Dean of Chichester.
WINCKELKOPF: Dear me! I had no idea you felt so strongly about religion, Lord Arthur. Few young men do nowadays.
LORD ARTHUR: I am afraid you overrate me, Herr Winckelkopf. The fact is, I really know nothing about theology.
WINCKELKOPF: It is a purely private matter, then?
LORD ARTHUR: Purely private.
WINCKELKOPF: Then I shall be happy to assist you. I have at home a pretty little French clock, surmounted by an ormolu
figure of Liberty trampling on the hydra of Despotism.
LORD ARTHUR: That sounds like the very thing I want.
WINCKELKOPF: A little cake of dynamite, and, “pooof!”, the Dean is no more.
LORD ARTHUR: How does it go off?
WINCKELKOPF: Ah! There is my secret. Let me know when you wish it to explode, and I will set the machine to the moment.
LORD ARTHUR: Well, to-day is Tuesday, and if you could send it off at once -
WINCKELKOPF: That is impossible; I have a great deal of important work on hand for some friends of mine in Moscow.
Still, I might send it off tomorrow.
LORD ARTHUR: Oh, that will be quite time enough! If it is delivered to-morrow night or Thursday morning.
WINCKELKOPF: And the moment of the explosion?
LORD ARTHUR: Say Friday at noon exactly. The Dean is always at home at that hour.
WINCKELKOPF: (Making a note.) Friday at noon.
LORD ARTHUR: And now, pray let me know how much I am in your debt.
WINCKELKOPF: It is such a small matter, Lord Arthur, that I do not care to make any charge. The dynamite comes to
seven and sixpence, the clock will be three pounds ten, and the carriage about five shillings. I am only too pleased
to oblige any friend of Mr. Podgers.
LORD ARTHUR: But your trouble, Herr Winckelkopf?
WINCKELKOPF: Oh, that is nothing! It is a pleasure to me. I do not work for money; I live entirely for my art.
LORD ARTHUR: You really are most kind. (He hands Herr Winckelkopf some money.) I can rely on the event taking place
on Friday at noon?
WINCKELKOPF: At noon precisely.
LORD ARTHUR: Thank you, Herr Winckelkopf. I will bid you good day.
WINCKELKOPF: Perhaps you would like to join me at a meeting of some Anarchists next Saturday, Lord Arthur?
LORD ARTHUR: Most kind of you, but I shall be otherwise engaged next Saturday: I am expecting the sudden death of
a relative.
WINCKELKOPF: Of course, of course. A great shame. Your presence at the meeting would have caused quite a sensation.
LORD ARTHUR: A sensation is precisely what I wish to avoid, Herr Winckelkopf. Good day, Mr. Podgers, and thank you
for your help.
PODGERS: Good day, Lord Arthur. Always a pleasure doing business with you.
(Exit LORD ARTHUR.)
WINCKELKOPF: What a charming young man. Do you think he might be persuaded to join the revolution when it comes?
PODGERS: I doubt it, Herr Winckelkopf. He is a member of the House of Lords.
WINCKELKOPF: Ah, yes, your British House of Lords. It thinks it is a civilized body because it is never in touch
with public opinion. Your Mr. Guy Fawkes, he had the right idea: “pooof!” and they are all dead.
PODGERS: If you ever visit the House of Lords, Herr Wincklekopf, then you will see that many of its members already
demonstrate the possibilities of life after death.
(Exeunt.)
SCENE 2
A room in Lord Arthur Savile’s house in Belgrave Square.
Enter LORD ARTHUR SAVILE leafing through a newspaper.
LORD ARTHUR: The results of horse-races … the verdicts in divorce suits … the state of the weather … endless wearisome details about an all-night sitting in the House of Commons … a small panic on the Stock Exchange … a report of Colonel Goodchild’s speech at the Mansion House, on the subject of South African Missions, and the advisability of having black Bishops in every province … but not even the slightest allusion to the Dean of Chichester. I begin to fear that the attempt must have failed.
(The sound of an electric bell is heard.)
LORD ARTHUR: Ah! That could be a telegram to inform me of Uncle George’s sudden death.
(Enter SYBIL MERTON.)
LORD ARTHUR: Sybil!
SYBIL: Yes, Arthur.
LORD ARTHUR: My dearest one, I had not expected to see you so soon.
SYBIL: I have considered your predicament, Arthur, and I have come to the conclusion that you are quite correct
to put your duty, whatever it may be, before your personal pleasure. Happiness and moral duty are, as I am sure
you are well aware, inseparably connected.
LORD ARTHUR: Oh, Sybil, you can’t imagine how happy it makes me to hear you say that!
SYBIL: How much longer do you require to deal with your “entanglement“?
LORD ARTHUR: I had hoped to be disentangled by noon yesterday, but I begin to fear that my hopes may have been a
little premature.
SYBIL: Oh, Arthur, I wish you would tell me what is the matter. I might be able to help you.
LORD ARTHUR: Believe me, my darling, it really is in your own best interests not to know.
(The sound of an electric bell is heard.)
SYBIL: Who is that? Are you expecting visitors, Arthur?
LORD ARTHUR: It might possibly be the news that will confirm my happiness for ever.
(Enter LADY WINDERMERE.)
LADY WINDERMERE: Have you heard the news about the Dean of Chichester?
LORD ARTHUR: He is dead?
(Enter the DEAN OF CHICHESTER.)
DEAN: Dead? Who is dead?
LORD ARTHUR: Uncle George! You’re alive!
DEAN: Of course I’m alive! Whatever made you think I was not?
LADY WINDERMERE: I met the Dean just now at Lady Jedburgh’s, and I insisted on binging him straight round to
tell you his fascinating story. It is quite as good as anything in the novels that Mudie sends me.
LORD ARTHUR: What has happened?
SYBIL: Don’t you think you should offer Lady Windermere and the Dean some tea, Arthur?
LORD ARTHUR: Oh, yes, of course. Shall I ring for tea?
DEAN: That would be most -
LADY WINDERMERE: Please don’t trouble yourself on our account. We were given crumpets by Lady Jedburgh, whose
Dionysian excesses seem to know no bounds since Mr. Podgers informed her that she was destined to go on the
stage. But do let the Dean tell you what happened to him yesterday.
LORD ARTHUR: Yes, of course. Uncle George?
DEAN: Well, on Thursday I received a parcel containing a clock -
LADY WINDERMERE: Oh, that reminds me: did Jane receive the parcel of flannel and gingham I sent her for the
Dorcas Society?
DEAN: Yes, indeed, Lady Windermere, thank you. Most generous of you.
SYBIL: What is the Dorcas Society?
LADY WINDERMERE: It is a charitable foundation which administers relief to the poor and necessitous in the form
of articles of clothing. Of course it is nonsense their wanting to wear pretty things, but everybody is so Radical
and irreligious nowadays, that it is difficult to make them see that they should not try and dress like the upper
classes. I am sure I don’t know what we are coming to.
DEAN: As I often say in my sermons, we live in an age of unbelief.
LADY WINDERMERE: In their rank of life they should wear what is unbecoming. It really is absurd, their anxiety about
dress, when there are so many more important things in this world, and in the next. Tell me, Sybil, did your yellow
satin turn out well?
SYBIL: Very well, thank you, Lady Windermere. I shall wear it at the Bishop’s on Wednesday, and think it will look all
right. But should it have bows or not? Jennings says that every one wears bows nowadays, and that the underskirt should
be frilled.
LADY WINDERMERE: Bows are only worn by the middle classes, Sybil, and frilled underskirts are suitable for nobody but
parlour-maids.
SYBIL: Thank you, Lady Windermere. I shall speak to Jennings about it most severely as soon as I get home.
LORD ARTHUR: But what happened about the clock, Uncle George?
DEAN: Which clock?
LORD ARTHUR: The one which arrived on Thursday.
DEAN: Ah, yes. It arrived in an unmarked wooden box from London, carriage paid.
LADY WINDERMERE: From an unknown admirer!
DEAN: I feel it must have been sent by some one who had read my sermon, “Is Licence Liberty?” for on the top of the clock was a figure of a woman, with the cap of Liberty on her head. Jane didn’t think it was very becoming, but I told her it was historical.
LADY WINDERMERE: I cannot imagine that being of much comfort to her. Liberty was invented at the time of the French Revolution, and we all know what that unfortunate movement led to. But tell Lord Arthur and Sybil what happened.
DEAN: Parker unpacked the clock, and put it on the mantelpiece in the library. We were all sitting there on Friday
morning, when just as the clock struck twelve, we heard a whirring noise, a little puff of smoke came from the pedestal
of the figure, and the goddess of Liberty fell off, and broke her nose on the fender!
SYBIL: How frightful!
LADY WINDERMERE: I imagine Jane must have been quite alarmed.
DEAN: She was at first, but it looked so ridiculous that Reggie and I went off into fits of laughter. When we examined
it, we found it is a sort of alarum clock, and that, if you set it to a particular hour, and put some gunpowder and a
cap under a little hammer, it goes off whenever you want. Quite a novelty. You wouldn’t like one for a wedding present,
would you, Arthur?
LORD ARTHUR: No, thank you, Uncle George.
LADY WINDERMERE: I don’t think they will ever become fashionable in London.
DEAN: That is a pity, as they could do a great deal of good.
SYBIL: How, Dean?
DEAN: Because they show that Liberty can’t last, but must fall down.
LADY WINDERMERE: But they would make so much noise about it.
DEAN: Yes, that is the reason I said it must not remain in the library. So Reggie carried it away to the schoolroom,
and does nothing but have small explosions all day long.
LADY WINDERMERE: That must be very irritating for poor Jane’s nerves. I think you should order it to be sent to the stables.
DEAN: Yes, I am sure you are right, Lady Windermere. I can’t say I like it so much as I did at first, though I am
very flattered at being sent such a pretty and ingenious toy. It shows that people do read my sermons and profit by them.
LADY WINDERMERE: What do you say, Lord Arthur?
LORD ARTHUR: I can’t say I think very much of it.
LADY WINDERMERE: Really? Well, we must be going. We are expected at the dear Duchess of Paisley’s for tea. It is
something of a trial, because she always serves cake, which is so unfashionable nowadays. Goodbye, Sybil. Do get
Lord Arthur to settle the date of your wedding. This shilly-shallying with the business is most tiresome.
Come along, Dean.
DEAN: Goodbye, Arthur; goodbye, my dear.
(Exeunt LADY WINDERMERE and the DEAN.)
SYBIL: Arthur, whatever is the matter? You look quite ill.
LORD ARTHUR: It’s no good, Sybil. I have tried to do my duty, but it seems that Destiny herself has turned traitor.
All my good intentions have come to nothing.
SYBIL: What do you mean?
LORD ARTHUR: Sybil, we had better break off our marriage altogether.
SYBIL: But why?
LORD ARTHUR: I know you will suffer, Sybil, but suffering cannot really mar a nature so noble as yours.
SYBIL: I am perfectly well aware of that, Arthur. But what about you?
LOED ARTHUR: What does it matter? There is always some war in which a man can die, some cause to which a man can
give his life, and as life has no pleasure for me, so death has no terror. Let Destiny work out my doom. I will
not stir to help her.
SYBIL: Arthur, you must tell me what is making you talk all this nonsense about Destiny, doom and death.
LORD ARTHUR: I cannot tell you, Sybil. It would make you an accessory to …
SYBIL: An accessory to what? If we are to share our lives, Arthur, we must share all our little secrets.
LORD ARTHUR: This is no little secret, Sybil.
SYBIL: You must tell me, if you really do wish to marry me.
LORD ARTHUR: If I do tell you, you will probably not want to marry me anyhow.
SYBIL: Nonsense. Although I have always admired you, Arthur, ever since I suspected that you were concealing some
terrible secret, you have had an irresistible fascination for me. Now, I insist on your telling me what it is.
LORD ARTHUR: You are absolutely sure?
SYBIL: Absolutely.
LORD ARTHUR: Very well. You remember the night at Lady Windermere’s when I proposed to you?
SYBIL: Of course I remember. Has this something to do with that cheiropodist man - what was his name?
LORD ARTHUR: Podgers. Yes. When we were alone together he told me …
SYBIL: Told you what?
LORD ARTHUR: That I was destined to commit a terrible crime.
SYBIL: I suspected something of the sort. What crime?
LORD ARTHUR: Murder.
SYBIL: How melodramatic. But why should that affect the date of our wedding?
LORD ARTHUR: Ardently though I love you, Sybil, I recognise clearly where my duty lies. To me you are a symbol of
all that is good and noble, and I have no right to marry you until I have committed the murder. Only when it is
done, can I stand before the altar with you and give my life into your hands without terror of wrongdoing. Only
then can I take you to my arms, knowing that you will never have to blush for me, never have to hang your head in shame.
SYBIL: Arthur, that is the most wonderful thing you have ever said to me.
LORD ARTHUR: Really?
SYBIL: Yes. You have had to choose between living for yourself and living for others, and terrible though the task
laid upon you undoubtedly is, yet you have not suffered selfishness to triumph over love.
LORD ARTHUR: Oh, Sybil!
SYBIL: Sooner or later we are all called upon to decide on the same issue - of us all, the same question is asked.
To you it has come early in life - before your delightfully boyish nature has been spoiled by the calculating
cynicism of middle-age, or your heart corroded by the shallow, fashionable egotism of our day.
LORD ARTHUR: Then you are not going to reject me, Sybil?
SYBIL: Of course not, you silly boy. Many men in your position would have preferred the primrose path of dalliance
to the steep heights of duty. Duty is the most sublime word in our language, and it has always been my ideal to
marry a man who would never shrink from doing his duty, no matter what the cost to himself.
LORD ARTHUR: Oh, Sybil!
SYBIL: But I don’t understand why you have not yet committed the murder. You have had ample time to assassinate
the entire House of Commons.
LORD ARTHUR: I have done my best to commit two murders, but on both occasions I have failed, and through no
fault of my own.
SYBIL: The Dean of Chichester’s clock!
LORD ARTHUR: Exactly.
SYBIL: And the first attempt?
LORD ARTHUR: Lady Clem. I tried to poison her with that little capsule you found, but she died before taking it.
SYBIL: That really was most inconsiderate of her. I had always thought you were a special favourite of hers.
LORD ARTHUR: Now I don’t know what to do. All my good intentions have been futile.
SYBIL: You must try again, Arthur. You are bound to succeed eventually.
LORD ARTHUR: But who? How? Poison and explosives have proved a complete disaster. What else can I try?
SYBIL: Perhaps you should consult someone who is more experienced in these matters than you are.
LORD ARTHUR: I have already consulted Mr. Podgers, who was kind enough to suggest the poison, and through him, Herr
Winckelkopf, who provided me with the clock that failed to explode.
SYBIL: Then I think you should return to them and insist that they supply you with something that is foolproof. After
all, Mr. Podgers started the whole thing, so it is only proper that he should see it through to its conclusion.
LORD ARTHUR: As always, my dear, you are absolutely right.
SYBIL: Of course I am, Arthur; and your recognition of the fact is one of your most endearing characteristics.
LORD ARTHUR: I shall call on Mr. Podgers first thing on Monday morning.
(Exeunt.)
SCENE 3
Mr. Podgers’ Consulting Room on West Moon Street.
Enter MR. PODGERS, and HERR WINCKELKOPF.
PODGERS: As I have told you before, Herr Winckelkopf, I think the prospects for revolution in England are fairly
remote. You must be aware that revolution requires thought, and unfortunately, in England at any rate, thought is
not catching.
WINCKELKOPF: The harder the struggle, the greater the triumph, Mr. Podgers.
PODGERS: Incidentally, I have seen no announcement of the death of the Dean of Chichester. Do you think your explosive
clock might have failed?
WINCKELKOPF: I fear so, Mr. Podgers. It really is most upsetting. If it ever comes out, it will have a serious effect on
my reputation.
(The sound of a door knocker is heard.)
PODGERS: Excuse me, Herr Winckelkopf.
(Exit MR. PODGERS. He returns a moment later with LORD ARTHUR SAVILE.)
WINCKELKOPF: Lord Arthur! You have good news?
LORD ARTHUR: No, Herr Winckelkopf, I have not! Your clock was a complete failure.
WINCKELKOPF: I really cannot apologise enough, Lord Arthur. I would be happy to supply you with another clock free of
charge.
LORD ARTHUR: No, thank you , Herr Winckelkopf.
WINCKELKOPF: Or I could let you have a case of nitro-glycerine bombs at cost price.
LORD ARTHUR: No, I have lost all faith in explosives.
WINCKELKOPF: I have to acknowledge that everything is so adulterated nowadays, that even dynamite can hardly be got
in a pure condition.
LORD ARTHUR: There was clearly something wrong with the machinery. There was a small explosion, but it simply toppled
the figure of Liberty from the top of the clock.
WINCKELKOPF: In that case I am not without hope that the clock might still go off.
LORD ARTHUR: Then you are more hopeful than I am, Herr Winckelkopf.
WINCKELKOPF: I recall the case of a barometer that I once sent to the military Governor at Odessa, which, though timed
to explode in ten days, did not do so for something like three months.
LORD ARTHUR: And did it succeed in its objective?
WINCKELKOPF: Unfortunately not. When it did go off, it merely succeeded in blowing a housemaid to atoms, the Governor
having gone out of town six weeks before. But at least it shows that dynamite, as a destructive force, is, when under
the control of machinery, a powerful agent.
LORD ARTHUR: Though a somewhat unpunctual one.
WINCKELKOPF: But I could let you have an explosive umbrella. That goes off as soon as it is opened. It is the very
latest invention, and has just arrived from Geneva.
LORD ARTHUR: No, thank you, Herr Winckelkopf. I am finished with explosive devices, and have come to discuss
alternatives with Mr. Podgers.
WINCKELKOPF: Then I will bid you good morning, Lord Arthur, and wish you every success in your next enterprise.
(Exit.)
LORD ARTHUR: Naturally I have brought you a cheque for another hundred guineas, Mr. Podgers.
PODGERS: That is most thoughtful of you, Lord Arthur. Unfortunately, it will not be enough.
LORD ARTHUR: You want more?
PODGERS: A lot more.
LORD ARTHUR: How much?
PODGERS: Ten thousand pounds.
LORD ARTHUR: Ten thousand pounds! Ridiculous! I shall arrange matters without your help. Good morning.
PODGERS: One moment, Lord Arthur. I don’t think you fully understand. The ten thousand pounds is to keep certain
information out of the hands of the police.
LORD ARTHUR: What information?
PODGERS: The information that you attempted to murder your uncle, the Dean of Chichester.
LORD ARTHUR: I had not expected this of you, Mr. Podgers. And anyway, as you well know, the whole thing was a
complete failure.
PODGERS: The attempt would be enough to ruin you - or even send you to the gallows.
LORD ARTHUR: You have no proof. It would be your word against mine.
PODGERS: The charge of dynamite is still in the clock. Herr Winckelkopf said it could explode at any moment.
An anonymous communication to Scotland Yard and you would find yourself in a most awkward situation.
LORD ARTHUR: This is blackmail!
PODGERS: I prefer to think of it as a business arrangement. You pay me what I ask, and I remain silent on the
subject of your attempted murder.
LORD ARTHUR: It is infamous, what you ask! Infamous!
PODGERS: It is simply the game of life, Lord Arthur. We all play it to our own advantage, as you are well aware.
LORD ARTHUR: Ten thousand pounds! I do not have such a sum of money.
PODGERS: You are a very wealthy man, my lord. I am sure you could raise the sum.
LORD ARTHUR: It would take time.
PODGERS: You have until Thursday.
LORD ARTHUR: I am not sure …
PODGERS: I am sure, my lord. You know the consequence if you fail.
LORD ARTHUR: But how do I know that I can trust you?
PODGERS: Really, Lord Arthur, one should always play fairly when one has the winning cards.
LORD ARTHUR: Very well. I will bring the money here.
PODGERS: Not here.
LORD ARTHUR: Where then?
PODGERS: The Thames Embankment. By Cleopatra’s Needle.
LORD ARTHUR: Why there?
PODGERS: Such transactions are best conducted well away from the prying eyes of inquisitive neighbours.
Shall we say midnight on Thursday?
LORD ARTHUR: Why so late?
PODGERS: There is unlikely to be anyone else around at that hour, my lord.
LORD ARTHUR: Very well. I will see what I can do.
PODGERS: Excellent, Lord Arthur. I know that I can trust you to honour your word. After all, you are a member
of the House of Lords.
(Exeunt.)
SCENE 4
A room in Lord Arthur Savile’s house in Belgrave Square.
Enter LORD ARTHUR SAVILE, and SYBIL MERTON.
SYBIL: Really, Arthur, if every member of the House of Lords gave way to blackmail over the slightest
indiscretion, it would prove a serious danger to the government of this country and probably lead to
acts of violence in Parliament Square.
LORD ARTHUR: But this isn’t a slight indiscretion, Sybil. And if Mr. Podgers exposes me to the police
there will be a scandal at the very least, and then your parents will never allow us to get married.
SYBIL: Don’t worry about mama and papa. I feel certain that if I were to tell them the whole facts of
the case they would be the very first to appreciate the noble and self-sacrificing motives that have
actuated you. In any case, I suspect that this business of the cake of dynamite is just a bluff. Now,
you must write a letter to Mr. Podgers at once, and tell him that you have no intention of paying him,
and that he can do whatever he likes.
(The sound of an electric bell is heard.)
LORD ARTHUR: The police!
SYBIL: Don’t be silly, Arthur. Mr. Podgers is not going to do anything before Thursday night, is he?
LORD ARTHUR: No. No, of course not.
SYBIL: Well, pull yourself together, then.
(Enter the DEAN OF CHICHESTER.)
LORD ARTHUR: Uncle George!
DEAN: Good morning Arthur; Sybil, my dear.
SYBIL: Good morning, Dean. What a pleasant surprise. How are you?
DEAN: I am all very well, my dear. How very charming you look.
SYBIL: Thank you, Dean. And how is your family?
DEAN: Very well, considering what has happened.
LORD ARTHUR: What is that, Uncle George?
DEAN: It was really quite unnerving. You remember that clock I was sent?
LORD ARTHUR: The clock!
SYBIL: The one sent by an unknown admirer? Yes, of course.
DEAN: Well, I took Lady Windermere’s advice and banished it to the stables. Then, on Sunday, while we were all
at church - I was preaching my sermon “Is Licence Liberty” for the benefit of the Bishop, who was visiting -
the clock exploded and blew the roof off the stables!
LORD ARTHUR: Good Lord!
SYBIL: Was anyone hurt?
DEAN: No. The Good Lord was indeed kind to us, because the servants, with the horses and the carriage, were all at church.
LORD ARTHUR: But what happened? Did Reggie use too much gunpowder?
DEAN: It was nothing to do with Reggie. The police are convinced that that there must have been a cake of
dynamite in the clock, intended to blow us all up.
SYBIL: How terrible!
LORD ARTHUR: Do the police have any idea who might have been responsible?
DEAN: None at all. They suspect a foreign revolutionary, as the device was similar to one used in Odessa some
time ago. Very unreliable, they said.
LORD ARTHUR: Lucky for you that you were all absent at the time.
DEAN: Indeed, indeed. The Good Lord moves in mysterious ways, his wonders to perform.
LORD ARTHUR: What are the police doing about it?
DEAN: They are continuing with their investigations, of course, but they have little hope of finding the perpetrator.
They are of the opinion that he must have fled the country by now.
SYBIL: Quite right. I doubt if you will hear any more on the subject.
DEAN: You are probably right, my dear. Well, I must be on my way. I am expected at Lady Windermere’s for luncheon.
She will be quite delighted to know that she was right about banishing the clock to the stables. Goodbye, Arthur;
Sybil, my dear. Be sure to let me know when you settle on a date for your wedding.
SYBIL: Of course we will.
LORD ARTHUR: Good morning, Uncle George.
SYBIL: Goodbye, Dean.
(Exit DEAN.)
LORD ARTHUR: Well, that’s it! The cake of dynamite was no bluff, and if the police find out that I was in any way
involved with the clock now, I shall be done for.
SYBIL: It does seem that way, Arthur.
LORD ARTHUR: I shall have to pay Mr. Podgers.
SYBIL: I am afraid that you will; although it really is most vexing.
LORD ARTHUR: How I am going to raise ten thousand pounds by Thursday night, I don’t know.
SYBIL: But you are immensely rich, Arthur: you have a vast fortune - unless I have been sorely deceived?
LORD ARTHUR: You have not been deceived, my dearest; but most of my fortune is tied up in property, land and
investments. Raising a large sum of ready money would involve selling something, or cashing in some bonds,
which would take time - more time than Mr. Podgers has given me.
SYBIL: Then you must ask him to extend his deadline.
LORD ARTHUR: I did not get the impression that he would be very accommodating.
SYBIL: You must see how much you can raise between now and Thursday, and try to negotiate with him over any
sum outstanding.
LORD ARTHUR: I had better get started. I will go and see my bankers immediately.
SYBIL: Arthur.
LORD ARTHUR: Yes, Sybil?
SYBIL: Just remember that I love you.
LORD ARTHUR: Oh, Sybil!
SYBIL: Now, off you go.
LORD ARTHUR: Yes, dearest.
(Exit.)
SYBIL: It really is most unfair. The poor boy was only doing his duty.
(Exit.)
SCENE 5
A room in Lord Arthur Savile’s house in Belgrave Square.
Enter LORD ARTHUR SAVILE. He paces up and down excitedly, looking very pleased with himself. The sound of
an electric bell is heard. Enter SYBIL MERTON.
SYBIL: Arthur, I came as early as was decent.
LORD ARTHUR: Sybil, my dearest. (He kisses her.)
SYBIL: What has happened? You seem very cheerful.
LORD ARTHUR: I am.
SYBIL: Has Mr. Podgers given you more time?
LORD ARTHUR: Mr. Podgers has given me all the time in the world.
SYBIL: What do you mean?
LORD ARTHUR: He will not trouble us again.
SYBIL: Really? He does not want the rest of the money?
LORD ARTHUR: He has no use for money now.
SYBIL: I don’t understand.
LORD ARTHUR: Mr. Podgers suddenly lost his appetite for blackmail.
SYBIL: You mean he decided not to press you for the rest of the ten thousand pounds?
LORD ARTHUR: I mean that Mr. Podgers has no more interest in the subject.
SYBIL: What are you talking about, Arthur? Please tell me what has happened.
LORD ARTHUR: Very well. As you know, I took the three thousand pounds I had managed to raise, and went to meet Mr.
Podgers. The city clocks were just striking midnight as I walked along the Embankment. Everything looked quite unreal,
like a strange dream. The houses on the other side of the river seemed built out of darkness. One would have said that
silver and shadow had fashioned the world anew. The huge dome of St. Paul’s loomed like a bubble through the dusky air.
SYBIL: All this is very poetical, Arthur, but what happened when you met Mr. Podgers?
LORD ARTHUR: As I approached Cleopatra’s Needle I saw a man leaning over the parapet, and as I came nearer he looked
up, the gas-light falling full upon his face. It was Mr. Podgers. I stopped. He had not seen me. A brilliant idea
flashed across my mind!
SYBIL: Arthur!
LORD ARTHUR: I stole softly up behind him.
SYBIL: You didn’t …?
LORD ARTHUR: In a moment I had seized Mr. Podgers by the legs, and flung him into the Thames.
SYBIL: Oh, Arthur!
LORD ARTHUR: There was a coarse oath, a heavy splash, and all was still.
SYBIL: He drowned?
LORD ARTHUR: I looked anxiously over the parapet, but could see nothing but a tall hat, pirouetting in an eddy of
moonlit water. After a time it also sank, and no trace of Mr. Podgers was visible.
SYBIL: Arthur, that is wonderful! Now he can trouble you no more.
LORD ARTHUR: Better than that!
SYBIL: How?
LORD ARTHUR: Don’t you see? I have committed my murder! Sybil, my darling, we are now free to get married whenever
you choose.
SYBIL: Oh, Arthur, mama and papa will be so pleased.
LORD ARTHUR: And you, Sybil, what about you? Can you really bring yourself to marry a man whose hands are stained with
the blood of another human being?
SYBIL: I have nothing to reproach you with, Arthur. You were doing your duty - nothing else matters. But you are sure
that Mr. Podgers is dead?
LORD ARTHUR: Once I thought that I caught sight of his figure striking out for the staircase by the bridge, and a
horrible feeling of failure came over me, but it turned out to be merely a reflection, and when the moon shone out
from behind a cloud it passed away. I heaved a deep sigh of relief, and your name came to my lips.
SYBIL: Arthur, darling! But you are sure you were not observed?
LORD ARTHUR: Quite sure. I stood there for a long while, staring down at the moonlit river, and thinking how wonderful
life had become, when suddenly I heard a voice behind me.
SYBIL: Who was it?
LORD ARTHUR: I turned round, and saw a policeman with a bull’s-eye lantern.
SYBIL: A policeman! He had not seen what you had done?
LORD ARTHUR: No. He was not in the least suspicious. He simply asked me if I had dropped something. I told him that it
was nothing of any importance, and hailed a passing hansom. The policeman wished me good night, I jumped into the
hansom, and told the man to drive me back here to wait for you.
SYBIL: So all your troubles are over.
LORD ARTHUR: We can be happy together at last, and all because of Mr. Podgers.
SYBIL: How because of Mr. Podgers?
LORD ARTHUR: Because he was responsible for revealing my destiny to me, and also for allowing me to resolve it in such
a satisfactory manner. If it were not for him I would have married you with the unknown doom of murder hanging over
my head, ready to strike me down in my moment of greatest bliss.
SYBIL: Yes, of course. I see.
LORD ARTHUR: Mr. Podgers alerted me to my destiny, and then himself became the means for me to fulfil that destiny.
SYBIL: So you really do have a lot to thank him for.
LORD ARTHUR: Everything. (They kiss.)
(The sound of an electric bell is heard.)
LORD ARTHUR: Who can that be at such an early hour?
SYBIL: Surely you were not mistaken about the policeman?
LORD ARTHUR: No. I am certain he saw nothing.
(Enter LADY WINDERMERE.)
SYBIL: Lady Windermere!
LADY WINDERMERE: I do apologise for calling so early, Lord Arthur, but I just had to come round as soon as I saw
this morning’s news. Good morning Sybil, my dear.
SYBIL: Good morning, Lady Windermere.
LORD ARTHUR: What has happened?
LADY WINDERMERE: I was leafing through the newspaper, when this heading caught my eye. (She hands the paper to Lord Arthur.) I felt sure you would want to see it straight away.
LORD ARTHUR: (Reads.) “Suicide of a Cheiromantist.”
SYBIL: Surely not that funny little man we met at your house, Lady Windermere?
LADY WINDERMERE: Mr. Podgers, yes. I know how interested you were in him.
LORD ARTHUR: (Reads.) “Early this morning, the body of Mr. Septimus R. Podgers, the eminent cheiromantist,
was washed on shore at Greenwich, just in front of the Ship Hotel. It is supposed that he committed suicide under
the influence of a temporary mental derangement, caused by overwork.”
SYBIL: Overwork! What had he been doing?
LORD ARTHUR: “Mr. Podgers had just completed an elaborate treatise on the subject of the Human Hand, that will
shortly be published, when it will no doubt attract much attention. The deceased does not seem to have left any
relations.” My dear Sybil, let us be married to-morrow!
SYBIL: You foolish boy! Why, the cake is not even ordered!
LORD ARTHUR: I don’t care a fig for the cake! I just want us to be married.
LADY WINDERMERE: Take Lord Arthur at his word, Sybil; he has procrastinated for quite long enough.
LORD ARTHUR: I hope you are not too upset about the death of Mr. Podgers, Lady Windermere?
LADY WINDERMERE: Not at all, Lord Arthur.
SYBIL: But you seemed to like him so much when you introduced him to us.
LADY WINDERMERE: I always like the last person who is introduced to me; but, as a rule, as soon as I know people I
get tired of them - with the exception of you and Lord Arthur, and the dear Dean of Chichester, of course. And, in
any case, I am now convinced that Mr. Podgers was a dreadful impostor.
LORD ARTHUR: Are you serious, Lady Windermere?
LADY WINDERMERE: Quite serious.
LORD ARTHUR: What can have given you such an idea?
LADY WINDERMERE: You remember that he told Lady Jedburgh that she would go on the stage?
LORD ARTHUR: Yes, but the time might not yet have arrived.
LADY WINDERMERE: Oh, it arrived, all right. She was invited to visit St. Cecilia’s, an “academy for the daughters of
gentlefolk”, where she went on the stage to present prizes to the highest achieving pupils, and address the girls
on the subject of Duty.
SYBIL: That is a subject of real importance, is it not? Young girls nowadays are in great need of strict moral
guidance, and who better to give it to them than a member of the aristocracy?
LADY WINDERMERE: Quite right. But I had expected her to go on the stage of a theatre, like the Lyceum or the
Haymarket. I am dreadfully disappointed.
LAOR ARTHUR: You cannot blame Mr. Podgers because Lady Jedburgh was not invited to appear in the West End.
LADY WINDERMERE: I suppose not. I even forgave him when he wanted to borrow money from me, but I could not stand
his making love to me. He has really made me hate cheiromancy. I go in for telepathy now. It is much more amusing.
LORD ARTHUR: I am quite sure you are wrong about Mr. Podgers, Lady Windermere.
SYBIL: You mustn’t say anything against Mr. Podgers in front of Arthur.
LADY WINDERMERE: You don’t mean to say that you believe in cheiromancy?
LORD ARTHUR: Of course I do.
LADY WINDERMERE: What nonsense!
SYBIL: It is the one subject that Arthur does not like people to chaff about, Lady Windermere.
LADY WINDERMERE: I never heard such nonsense in all my life.
LORD ARTHUR: I assure you I am quite serious over it.
LADY WINDERMERE: Really? But why?
LORD ARTHUR: Because I owe to Mr. Podgers all the happiness of my life.
LADY WINDERMERE: My dear Lord Arthur, what on earth do you owe to him?
LORD ARTHUR: Sybil.
LADY WINDERMERE: You are joking, of course.
LORD ARTHUR: Not at all, Lady Windermere. Mr Podgers made me realise for the first time in my life the vital
importance of doing my duty.
(CURTAIN.)
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