JACK. Your vanity is ridiculous, your conduct an outrage, and your presence in my garden utterly absurd. However, you have got to catch the four-five, and I hope you will have a pleasant journey back to town. This Bunburying, as you call it, has not been a great success for you.
ALGERNON. I think it has been a great success. I’m in love with Cecily, and that is everything.
CECILY. Oh, I merely came back to water the roses. I thought you were with Uncle Jack.
ALGERNON. He’s gone to order the dog-cart for me.
CECILY. Oh, is he going to take you for a nice drive?
ALGERNON. He’s going to send me away.
CECILY. Then have we got to part?
ALGERNON. I am afraid so. It’s a very painful parting.
CECILY. It is always painful to part from people whom one has known for a very brief space of time. The absence of old friends one can endure with equanimity. But even a momentary separation from anyone to whom one has just been introduced is almost unbearable.
ALGERNON. Thank you.
MERRIMAN. The dog-cart is at the door, sir. [Algernon looks appealingly at Cecily.]
CECILY. It can wait, Merriman for . . . five minutes.
MERRIMAN. Yes, Miss. [Exit Merriman.]
ALGERNON. I hope, Cecily, I shall not offend you if I state quite frankly and openly that you seem to me to be in every way the visible personification of absolute perfection.
CECILY. I think your frankness does you great credit, Ernest. If you will allow me, I will copy your remarks into my diary. [Goes over to table and begins writing in diary.]
ALGERNON. Do you really keep a diary? I’d give anything to look at it. May I?
CECILY. Oh no. [Puts her hand over it.] You see, it is simply a very young girl’s record of her own thoughts and impressions, and consequently meant for publication. When it appears in volume form I hope you will order a copy. But pray, Ernest, don’t stop. I delight in taking down from dictation. I have reached ‘absolute perfection’. You can go on. I am quite ready for more.
ALGERNON. [Somewhat taken aback.] Ahem! Ahem!
CECILY. Oh, don’t cough, Ernest. When one is dictating one should speak fluently and not cough. Besides, I don’t know how to spell a cough. [Writes as Algernon speaks.]
ALGERNON. [Speaking very rapidly.] Cecily, ever since I first looked upon your wonderful and incomparable beauty, I have dared to love you wildly, passionately, devotedly, hopelessly.
CECILY. I don’t think that you should tell me that you love me wildly, passionately, devotedly, hopelessly. Hopelessly doesn’t seem to make much sense, does it?
ALGERNON. Cecily!
MERRIMAN. The dog-cart is waiting, sir.
ALGERNON. Tell it to come round next week, at the same hour.
MERRIMAN. [Looks at Cecily, who makes no sign.] Yes, sir.
CECILY. Uncle Jack would be very much annoyed if he knew you were staying on till next week, at the same hour.
ALGERNON. Oh, I don’t care about Jack. I don’t care for anybody in the whole world but you. I love you, Cecily. You will marry me, won’t you?
CECILY. You silly boy! Of course. Why, we have been engaged for the last three months.
The Importance of Being Earnest · The Wunder Library — complete classics, free to read, with narration.