认真的重要性 英文版 The Importance of Being Earnest
奥斯卡.王尔德 Oscar Wilde
SECOND ACT Page 1
SCENE
Garden at the Manor House. A flight of grey stone steps leads upto the house. The garden, an old-fashioned one, full of roses.Time of year, July. Basket chairs, and a table covered with books,are set under a large yew-tree.
(MISS PRISM discovered seated at the table. CECILY is at the backwatering flowers. )
MISS PRISM. (Calling. ) Cecily, Cecily! Surely such a utilitarianoccupation as the watering of flowers is rather Moulton's duty thanyours? Especially at a moment when intellectual pleasures awaityou. Your German grammar is on the table. Pray open it at pagefifteen. We will repeat yesterday's lesson.
CECILY. (Coming over very slowly. ) But I don't like German. Itisn't at all a becoming language. I know perfectly well that Ilook quite plain after my German lesson.
MISS PRISM. Child, you know how anxious your guardian is that youshould improve yourself in every way. He laid particular stress onyour German, as he was leaving for town yesterday. Indeed, healways lays stress on your German when he is leaving for town.
CECILY. Dear Uncle Jack is so very serious! Sometimes he is soserious that I think he cannot be quite well
MISS PRISM. (Drawing herself up. ) Your guardian enjoys the bestof health, and his gravity of demeanour is especially to becommanded in one so comparatively young as he is. I know no onewho has a higher sense of duty and responsibility.
CECILY. I suppose that is why he often looks a little bored whenwe three are together.
MISS PRISM. Cecily! I am surprised at you. Mr. Worthing has manytroubles in his life. Idle merriment and triviality would be outof place in his conversation. You must remember his constantanxiety about that unfortunate young man his brother.
CECILY. I wish Uncle Jack would allow that unfortunate young man,his brother, to come down here sometimes. We might have a goodinfluence over him, Miss Prism. I am sure you certainly would.You know German, and geology, and things of that kind influence aman very much. (CECILY begins to write in her diary. )
MISS PRISM. (Shaking her head. ) I do not think that even I couldproduce any effect on a character that according to his ownbrother's admission is irretrievably weak and vacillating. IndeedI am not sure that I would desire to reclaim him. I am not infavour of this modern mania for turning bad people into good peopleat a moment's notice. As a man sows so let him reap. You must putaway your diary, Cecily. I really don't see why you should keep adiary at all.
CECILY. I keep a diary in order to enter the wonderful secrets ofmy life. If I didn't write them down, I should probably forget allabout them.
MISS PRISM. Memory, my dear Cecily, is the diary that we all carryabout with us.
CECILY. Yes, but it usually chronicles the things that have neverhappened, and couldn't possibly have happened. I believe thatMemory is responsible for nearly all the three-volume novels thatMudie sends us.
MISS PRISM. Do not speak slightingly of the three-volume novel,Cecily. I wrote one myself in earlier days.
CECILY. Did you really, Miss Prism? How wonderfully clever youare! I hope it did not end happily? I don't like novels that endhappily. They depress me so much.
MISS PRISM. The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. Thatis what Fiction means.
CECILY. I suppose so. But it seems very unfair. And was yournovel ever published?
MISS PRISM. Alas! no. The manuscript unfortunately was abandoned.(CECILY starts. ) I use the word in the sense of lost or mislaid.To your work, child, these speculations are profitless.
CECILY. (Smiling. ) But I see dear Dr. Chasuble coming up throughthe garden.
MISS PRISM. (Rising and advancing. ) Dr. Chasuble! This is indeeda pleasure.
(Enter CANON CHASUBLE. )
CHASUBLE. And how are we this morning? Miss Prism, you are, Itrust, well?
CECILY. Miss Prism has just been complaining of a slight headache.I think it would do her so much good to have a short stroll withyou in the Park, Dr. Chasuble.
MISS PRISM. Cecily, I have not mentioned anything about aheadache.
CECILY. No, dear Miss Prism, I know that, but I felt instinctivelythat you had a headache. Indeed I was thinking about that, and notabout my German lesson, when the Rector came in.
CHASUBLE. I hope, Cecily, you are not inattentive.
CECILY. Oh, I am afraid I am.
CHASUBLE. That is strange. Were I fortunate enough to be MissPrism's pupil, I would hang upon her lips. (MISS PRISM glares. ) Ispoke metaphorically. - My metaphor was drawn from bees. Ahem!Mr. Worthing, I suppose, has not returned from town yet?
MISS PRISM. We do not expect him till Monday afternoon.
CHASUBLE. Ah yes, he usually likes to spend his Sunday in London.He is not one of those whose sole aim is enjoyment, as, by allaccounts, that unfortunate young man his brother seems to be. ButI must not disturb Egeria and her pupil any longer.
MISS PRISM. Egeria? My name is Laetitia, Doctor.
CHASUBLE. (Bowing. ) A classical allusion merely, drawn from thePagan authors. I shall see you both no doubt at Evensong?
MISS PRISM. I think, dear Doctor, I will have a stroll with you.I find I have a headache after all, and a walk might do it good.
CHASUBLE. With pleasure, Miss Prism, with pleasure. We might goas far as the schools and back.
MISS PRISM. That would be delightful. Cecily, you will read yourPolitical Economy in my absence. The chapter on the Fall of theRupee you may omit. It is somewhat too sensational. Even thesemetallic problems have their melodramatic side.
(Goes down the garden with DR. CHASUBLE. )
CECILY. (Picks up books and throws them back on table. ) HorridPolitical Economy! Horrid Geography! Horrid, horrid German!
(Enter MERRIMAN with a card on a salver. )
MERRIMAN. Mr. Ernest Worthing has just driven over from thestation. He has brought his luggage with him.
CECILY. (Takes the card and reads it. ) 'Mr. Ernest Worthing, B.4, The Albany, W. ' Uncle Jack's brother! Did you tell him Mr.Worthing was in town?
MERRIMAN. Yes, Miss. He seemed very much disappointed. Imentioned that you and Miss Prism were in the garden. He said hewas anxious to speak to you privately for a moment.
CECILY. Ask Mr. Ernest Worthing to come here. I suppose you hadbetter talk to the housekeeper about a room for him.
MERRIMAN. Yes, Miss.
(MERRIMAN goes off. )
CECILY. I have never met any really wicked person before. I feelrather frightened. I am so afraid he will look just like every oneelse.
(Enter ALGERNON, very gay and debonnair. ) He does!
ALGERNON. (Raising his hat. ) You are my little cousin Cecily, I'msure.
CECILY. You are under some strange mistake. I am not little. Infact, I believe I am more than usually tall for my age. (ALGERNONis rather taken aback. ) But I am your cousin Cecily. You, I seefrom your card, are Uncle Jack's brother, my cousin Ernest, mywicked cousin Ernest.
ALGERNON. Oh! I am not really wicked at all, cousin Cecily. Youmustn't think that I am wicked.
CECILY. If you are not, then you have certainly been deceiving usall in a very inexcusable manner. I hope you have not been leadinga double life, pretending to be wicked and being really good allthe time. That would be hypocrisy.
ALGERNON. (Looks at her in amazement. ) Oh! Of course I have beenrather reckless.
CECILY. I am glad to hear it.
ALGERNON. In fact, now you mention the subject, I have been verybad in my own small way.
CECILY. I don't think you should be so proud of that, though I amsure it must have been very pleasant.
ALGERNON. It is much pleasanter being here with you.
CECILY. I can't understand how you are here at all. Uncle Jackwon't be back till Monday afternoon.
ALGERNON. That is a great disappointment. I am obliged to go upby the first train on Monday morning. I have a businessappointment that I am anxious . . . to miss?
CECILY. Couldn't you miss it anywhere but in London?
ALGERNON. No: the appointment is in London.
CECILY. Well, I know, of course, how important it is not to keep abusiness engagement, if one wants to retain any sense of the beautyof life, but still I think you had better wait till Uncle Jackarrives. I know he wants to speak to you about your emigrating.
ALGERNON. About my what?
CECILY. Your emigrating. He has gone up to buy your outfit.
ALGERNON. I certainly wouldn't let Jack buy my outfit. He has notaste in neckties at all.
CECILY. I don't think you will require neckties. Uncle Jack issending you to Australia.
really good allthe time.
ALGERNON. Australia! I'd sooner die.
CECILY. Well, he said at dinner on Wednesday night, that you wouldhave to choose between this world, the next world, and Australia.
ALGERNON. Oh, well! The accounts I have received of Australia andthe next world, are not particularly encouraging. This world isgood enough for me, cousin Cecily.
CECILY. Yes, but are you good enough for it?
ALGERNON. I'm afraid I'm not that. That is why I want you toreform me. You might make that your mission, if you don't mind,cousin Cecily.
CECILY. I'm afraid I've no time, this afternoon.
ALGERNON. Well, would you mind my reforming myself this afternoon?
inattentive.
CECILY. It is rather Quixotic of you. But I think you should try.
ALGERNON. I will. I feel better already.
CECILY. You are looking a little worse.
ALGERNON. That is because I am hungry.
CECILY. How thoughtless of me. I should have remembered that whenone is going to lead an entirely new life, one requires regular andwholesome meals. Won't you come in?
ALGERNON. Thank you. Might I have a buttonhole first? I neverhave any appetite unless I have a buttonhole first.
CECILY. A Marechal Niel? (Picks up scissors. )
emigrating. He !
ALGERNON. No, I'd sooner have a pink rose.
CECILY. Why? (Cuts a flower. )
ALGERNON. Because you are like a pink rose, Cousin Cecily.
CECILY. I don't think it can be right for you to talk to me likethat. Miss Prism never says such things to me.
ALGERNON. Then Miss Prism is a short-sighted old lady. (CECILYputs the rose in his buttonhole. ) You are the prettiest girl Iever saw.
CECILY. Miss Prism says that all good looks are a snare.
ALGERNON. They are a snare that every sensible man would like tobe caught in.
CECILY. Oh, I don't think I would care to catch a sensible man. Ishouldn't know what to talk to him about.
(They pass into the house. MISS PRISM and DR. CHASUBLE return. )
MISS PRISM. You are too much alone, dear Dr. Chasuble. You shouldget married. A misanthrope I can understand - a womanthrope,never!
CHASUBLE. (With a scholar's shudder. ) Believe me, I do notdeserve so neologistic a phrase. The precept as well as thepractice of the Primitive Church was distinctly against matrimony.
MISS PRISM. (Sententiously. ) That is obviously the reason why thePrimitive Church has not lasted up to the present day. And you donot seem to realise, dear Doctor, that by persistently remainingsingle, a man converts himself into a permanent public temptation.Men should be more careful; this very celibacy leads weaker vesselsastray.
CHASUBLE. But is a man not equally attractive when married?
MISS PRISM. No married man is ever attractive except to his wife.
CHASUBLE. And often, I've been told, not even to her.
MISS PRISM. That depends on the intellectual sympathies of thewoman. Maturity can always be depended on. Ripeness can betrusted. Young women are green. (DR. CHASUBLE starts. ) I spokehorticulturally. My metaphor was drawn from fruits. But where isCecily?
CHASUBLE. Perhaps she followed us to the schools.
(Enter JACK slowly from the back of the garden. He is dressed inthe deepest mourning, with crape hatband and black gloves. )
MISS PRISM. Mr. Worthing!
CHASUBLE. Mr. Worthing?
MISS PRISM. This is indeed a surprise. We did not look for youtill Monday afternoon.
JACK. (Shakes MISS PRISM'S hand in a tragic manner. ) I havereturned sooner than I expected. Dr. Chasuble, I hope you arewell?
CHASUBLE. Dear Mr. Worthing, I trust this garb of woe does notbetoken some terrible calamity?
JACK. My brother.
MISS PRISM. More shameful debts and extravagance?
, I am afraid I am.Cecily.
CHASUBLE. Still leading his life of pleasure?
JACK. (Shaking his head. ) Dead!
CHASUBLE. Your brother Ernest dead?
JACK. Quite dead.
MISS PRISM. What a lesson for him! I trust he will profit by it.
CHASUBLE. Mr. Worthing, I offer you my sincere condolence. Youhave at least the consolation of knowing that you were always themost generous and forgiving of brothers.
CHASUBLE. But have ?
JACK. Poor Ernest! He had many faults, but it is a sad, sad blow.
CHASUBLE. Very sad indeed. Were you with him at the end?
JACK. No. He died abroad; in Paris, in fact. I had a telegramlast night from the manager of the Grand Hotel.
CHASUBLE. Was the cause of death mentioned?
JACK. A severe chill, it seems.
MISS PRISM. As a man sows, so shall he reap.
CHASUBLE. (Raising his hand. ) Charity, dear Miss Prism, charity!None of us are perfect. I myself am peculiarly susceptible todraughts. Will the interment take place here?
JACK. No. He seems to have expressed a desire to be buried inParis.
CHASUBLE. In Paris! (Shakes his head. ) I fear that hardly pointsto any very serious state of mind at the last. You would no doubtwish me to make some slight allusion to this tragic domesticaffliction next Sunday. (JACK presses his hand convulsively. ) Mysermon on the meaning of the manna in the wilderness can be adaptedto almost any occasion, joyful, or, as in the present case,distressing. (All sigh. ) I have preached it at harvestcelebrations, christenings, confirmations, on days of humiliationand festal days. The last time I delivered it was in theCathedral, as a charity sermon on behalf of the Society for thePrevention of Discontent among the Upper Orders. The Bishop, whowas present, was much struck by some of the analogies I drew.
JACK. Ah! that reminds me, you mentioned christenings I think, Dr.Chasuble? I suppose you know how to christen all right? (DR.CHASUBLE looks astounded. ) I mean, of course, you are continuallychristening, aren't you?
MISS PRISM. It is, I regret to say, one of the Rector's mostconstant duties in this parish. I have often spoken to the poorerclasses on the subject. But they don't seem to know what thriftis.
CHASUBLE. But is there any particular infant in whom you areinterested, Mr. Worthing? Your brother was, I believe, unmarried,was he not?
JACK. Oh yes.
MISS PRISM. (Bitterly. ) People who live entirely for pleasureusually are.
JACK. But it is not for any child, dear Doctor. I am very fond ofchildren. No! the fact is, I would like to be christened myself,this afternoon, if you have nothing better to do.
CHASUBLE. But surely, Mr. Worthing, you have been christenedalready?
JACK. I don't remember anything about it.
CHASUBLE. But have you any grave doubts on the subject?
JACK. I certainly intend to have. Of course I don't know if thething would bother you in any way, or if you think I am a littletoo old now.
CHASUBLE. Not at all. The sprinkling, and, indeed, the immersionof adults is a perfectly canonical practice.
JACK. Immersion!
CHASUBLE. You need have no apprehensions. Sprinkling is all thatis necessary, or indeed I think advisable. Our weather is sochangeable. At what hour would you wish the ceremony performed?
JACK. Oh, I might trot round about five if that would suit you.
CHASUBLE. Perfectly, perfectly! In fact I have two similarceremonies to perform at that time. A case of twins that occurredrecently in one of the outlying cottages on your own estate. PoorJenkins the carter, a most hard-working man.
JACK. Oh! I don't see much fun in being christened along withother babies. It would be childish. Would half-past five do?
CHASUBLE. Admirably! Admirably! (Takes out watch. ) And now,dear Mr. Worthing, I will not intrude any longer into a house ofsorrow. I would merely beg you not to be too much bowed down bygrief. What seem to us bitter trials are often blessings indisguise.
MISS PRISM. This seems to me a blessing of an extremely obviouskind.
(Enter CECILY from the house. )
CECILY. Uncle Jack! Oh, I am pleased to see you back. But whathorrid clothes you have got on! Do go and change them.
MISS PRISM. Cecily!
CHASUBLE. My child! my child! (CECILY goes towards JACK; hekisses her brow in a melancholy manner. )
CECILY. What is the matter, Uncle Jack? Do look happy! You lookas if you had toothache, and I have got such a surprise for you.Who do you think is in the dining-room? Your brother!
JACK. Who?
CECILY. Your brother Ernest. He arrived about half an hour ago.
CECILY. Oh, don't say that. However badly he may have behaved toyou in the past he is still your brother. You couldn't be soheartless as to disown him. I'll tell him to come out. And youwill shake hands with him, won't you, Uncle Jack? (Runs back intothe house. )
CHASUBLE. These are very joyful tidings.
MISS PRISM. After we had all been resigned to his loss, his suddenreturn seems to me peculiarly distressing.
JACK. My brother is in the dining-room? I don't know what it allmeans. I think it is perfectly absurd.
(Enter ALGERNON and CECILY hand in hand. They come slowly up toJACK. )
JACK. Good heavens! (Motions ALGERNON away. )
ALGERNON. Brother John, I have come down from town to tell youthat I am very sorry for all the trouble I have given you, and thatI intend to lead a better life in the future. (JACK glares at himand does not take his hand. )
CECILY. Uncle Jack, you are not going to refuse your own brother'shand?
JACK. Nothing will induce me to take his hand. I think his comingdown here disgraceful. He knows perfectly well why.
CECILY. Uncle Jack, do be nice. There is some good in every one.Ernest has just been telling me about his poor invalid friend Mr.Bunbury whom he goes to visit so often. And surely there must bemuch good in one who is kind to an invalid, and leaves thepleasures of London to sit by a bed of pain.
JACK. Oh! he has been talking about Bunbury, has he?
CECILY. Yes, he has told me all about poor Mr. Bunbury, and histerrible state of health.
JACK. Bunbury! Well, I won't have him talk to you about Bunburyor about anything else. It is enough to drive one perfectlyfrantic.
ALGERNON. Of course I admit that the faults were all on my side.But I must say that I think that Brother John's coldness to me ispeculiarly painful. I expected a more enthusiastic welcome,especially considering it is the first time I have come here.
CECILY. Uncle Jack, if you don't shake hands with Ernest I willnever forgive you.
JACK. Never forgive me?
CECILY. Never, never, never!
JACK. Well, this is the last time I shall ever do it. (Shakeswith ALGERNON and glares. )
CHASUBLE. It's pleasant, is it not, to see so perfect areconciliation? I think we might leave the two brothers together.
MISS PRISM. Cecily, you will come with us.
CECILY. Certainly, Miss Prism. My little task of reconciliationis over.
CHASUBLE. You have done a beautiful action to-day, dear child.