An Ideal Husband: Level 3 (+ 2 CD) Oscar Wilde

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She has the fascinating tyranny of youth, and the astonishing courage of innocence. To sane people she is not reminiscent of any work of art. But she is really like a Tanagra statuette, and would be rather annoyed if she were told so.

Because he leads such an idle life. How can you say such a thing? How sweet of you to say that, Lord Caversham! Do come to us more often. You know we are always at home on Wednesdays, and you look so well with your star! Never go anywhere now. Sick of London Society. Oh, I love London Society! I think it has immensely improved. It is entirely composed now of beautiful idiots and brilliant lunatics. Just what Society should be.

Beautiful idiot, or the other thing? But he is developing charmingly! Lips very thin and highly-coloured, a line of scarlet on a pallid face. Venetian red hair, aquiline nose, and long throat. Rouge accentuates the natural paleness of her complexion. Gray-green eyes that move restlessly.

She is in heliotrope, with diamonds. In all her movements she is extremely graceful. A work of art, on the whole, but showing the influence of too many schools. Good evening, dear Gertrude! So kind of you to let me bring my friend, Mrs.

Two such charming women should know each other! Then suddenly stops, and bows rather distantly. Cheveley and I have met before. I did not know she had married a second time.

It is most fashionable. Brain still weak, I suppose? Well, that is only to be expected, is it not? His good father was just the same. There is nothing like race, is there? I have been out of England for so long. We were at school together, Mrs.

I have forgotten all about my schooldays. I have a vague impression that they were detestable. Since he has been at the Foreign Office, he has been so much talked of in Vienna. They actually succeed in spelling his name right in the newspapers. That in itself is fame, on the continent. I hardly think there will be much in common between you and my husband, Mrs. I have not seen you since Berlin! Not since Berlin, Vicomte.

And you are younger and more beautiful than ever. How do you manage it? By making it a rule only to talk to perfectly charming people like yourself. You butter me, as they say here. Do they say that here? How dreadful of them! Yes, they have a wonderful language. It should be more widely known. A man of forty, but looking somewhat younger.

Clean-shaven, with finely-cut features, dark-haired and dark-eyed. A personality of mark. Not popular - few personalities are. But intensely admired by the few, and deeply respected by the many. The note of his manner is that of perfect distinction, with a slight touch of pride. One feels that he is conscious of the success he has made in life.

A nervous temperament, with a tired look. The firmly-chiselled mouth and chin contrast strikingly with the romantic expression in the deep-set eyes. The variance is suggestive of an almost complete separation of passion and intellect, as though thought and emotion were each isolated in its own sphere through some violence of will-power. There is nervousness in the nostrils, and in the pale, thin, pointed hands.

It would be inaccurate to call him picturesque. Picturesqueness cannot survive the House of Commons. But Vandyck would have liked to have painted his head. Good evening, Lady Markby! I hope you have brought Sir John with you? I have brought a much more charming person than Sir John. Really, now that the House of Commons is trying to become useful, it does a great deal of harm.

I hope not, Lady Markby. But who is this charming person you have been kind enough to bring to us? Her name is Mrs.

One of the Dorsetshire Cheveleys, I suppose. Families are so mixed nowadays. Indeed, as a rule, everybody turns out to be somebody else. I seem to know the name. She has just arrived from Vienna. I think I know whom you mean. I really must go to Vienna next winter. I hope there is a good chef at the Embassy. If there is not, the Ambassador will certainly have to be recalled.

Pray point out Mrs. I should like to see her. Let me introduce you. Our attaches at Vienna write to us about nothing else. Thank you, Sir Robert. An acquaintance that begins with a compliment is sure to develop into a real friendship. It starts in the right manner. And I find that I know Lady Chiltern already. She has just reminded me that we were at school together.

I remember it perfectly now. She always got the good conduct prize. I have a distinct recollection of Lady Chiltern always getting the good conduct prize! My prizes came a little later on in life. I am sure they were for something charming! I think they are usually punished for it! Certainly, more women grow old nowadays through the faithfulness of their admirers than through anything else!

At least that is the only way I can account for the terribly haggard look of most of your pretty women in London! What an appalling philosophy that sounds! To attempt to classify you, Mrs. Cheveley, would be an impertinence. But may I ask, at heart, are you an optimist or a pessimist?

Those seem to be the only two fashionable religions left to us nowadays. Optimism begins in a broad grin, and Pessimism ends with blue spectacles. Besides, they are both of them merely poses. You prefer to be natural? But it is such a very difficult pose to keep up.

What would those modern psychological novelists, of whom we hear so much, say to such a theory as that? Men can be analysed, women. You think science cannot grapple with the problem of women? Science can never grapple with the irrational. That is why it has no future before it, in this world. And women represent the irrational. But do sit down. And now tell me, what makes you leave your brilliant Vienna for our gloomy London - or perhaps the question is indiscreet?

Questions are never indiscreet. Well, at any rate, may I know if it is politics or pleasure? Politics are my only pleasure. You see nowadays it is not fashionable to flirt till one is forty, or to be romantic till one is forty-five, so we poor women who are under thirty, or say we are, have nothing open to us but politics or philanthropy. And philanthropy seems to me to have become simply the refuge of people who wish to annoy their fellow-creatures. I think they are more. A political life is a noble career!

And sometimes it is a clever game, Sir Robert. And sometimes it is a great nuisance. Which do you find it? A combination of all three. But you have not told me yet what makes you honour London so suddenly. Our season is almost over. It is too matrimonial. People are either hunting for husbands, or hiding from them.

I wanted to meet you. It is quite true. I wanted immensely to meet you, and. I hope it is not a little thing, Mrs. I find that little things are so very difficult to do. I am so glad. Do tell me what it is. I hear your pictures are charming. Poor Baron Arnheim - you remember the Baron? I often think it such a pity he never wrote his memoirs. They would have been most interesting. Without the dreadful disadvantage of having a Penelope waiting at home for him. Thirty-four, but always says he is younger.

A well-bred, expressionless face. He is clever, but would not like to be thought so. A flawless dandy, he would be annoyed if he were considered romantic. He plays with life, and is on perfectly good terms with the world. He is fond of being misunderstood. It gives him a post of vantage.

Good evening, my dear Arthur! Cheveley, allow me to introduce to you Lord Goring, the idlest man in London. I have met Lord Goring before. My memory is under admirable control. And are you still a bachelor?

I am not at all romantic. I am not old enough. I leave romance to my seniors. He reflects every credit on the institution. May I ask are you staying in London long? That depends partly on the weather, partly on the cooking, and partly on Sir Robert. You are not going to plunge us into a European war, I hope? There is no danger, at present! You are very late! Have you missed me? Then I am sorry I did not stay away longer. I like being missed.

How very selfish of you! I am very selfish. You are always telling me of your bad qualities, Lord Goring. I have only told you half of them as yet, Miss Mabel!

Are the others very bad? When I think of them at night I go to sleep at once. Well, I delight in your bad qualities. How very nice of you! But then you are always nice. By the way, I want to ask you a question, Miss Mabel. That woman in heliotrope, who has just gone out of the room with your brother? Oh, I think Lady Markby brought her.

Why do you ask? What an absurd reason! All reasons are absurd. What sort of a woman is she? I dislike her already. That shows your admirable good taste. Quite the dragon of good taste. So the newspapers are always telling us.

I read all your English newspapers. I find them so amusing. Then, my dear Nanjac, you must certainly read between the lines. I should like to, but my professor objects. Not if there is any music going on, Miss Mabel. You would not understand it. Wasting your life as usual! You should be in bed, sir. You keep too late hours! Only a quarter to four, father. The thing has gone to the dogs, a lot of damned nobodies talking about nothing.

I love talking about nothing, father. It is the only thing I know anything about. You seem to me to be living entirely for pleasure. What else is there to live for, father? Nothing ages like happiness. You are heartless, sir, very heartless! I hope not, father. Good evening, Lady Basildon!

I had no idea you ever came to political parties! I adore political parties. I delight in talking politics. I talk them all day long. You see, it is a very dangerous thing to listen. If one listens one may be convinced; and a man who allows himself to be convinced by an argument is a thoroughly unreasonable person. We have to go to others for that! My Reginald is quite hopelessly faultless. He is really unendurably so, at times! There is not the smallest element of excitement in knowing him. Really, the thing should be more widely known!

Basildon is quite as bad; he is as domestic as if he was a bachelor. We have married perfect husbands, and we are well punished for it. I should have thought it was the husbands who were punished. They are as happy as possible! And as for trusting us, it is tragic how much they trust us. Or comic, Lady Basildon? Certainly not comic, Lord Goring. How unkind of you to suggest such a thing!

I am afraid Lord Goring is in the camp of the enemy, as usual. I saw him talking to that Mrs. Cheveley when he came in. You might wait for us to do that! Well, we are not going to praise her. I hear she went to the Opera on Monday night, and told Tommy Rufford at supper that, as far as she could see, London Society was entirely made up of dowdies and dandies.

She is quite right, too. And a very sensible remark for Mrs. Cheveley to make, too. She joins the group. Why are you talking about Mrs. Everybody is talking about Mrs. Lord Goring says - what did you say, Lord Goring, about Mrs. I remember, that she was a genius in the daytime and a beauty at night. What a horrid combination! Marchmont and I have been married for seven years, and he has never once told me that I was morbid. Men are so painfully unobservant! Is it morbid to have a desire for food?

I have a great desire for food. Lord Goring, will you give me some supper? With pleasure, Miss Mabel.

How horrid you have been! You have never talked to me the whole evening! You went away with the child-diplomatist. You might have followed us. Pursuit would have been only polite. I like you immensely. Olivia, I have a curious feeling of absolute faintness. I think I should like some supper very much. I know I should like some supper. I am positively dying for supper, Margaret! Men are so horribly selfish, they never think of these things. Men are grossly material, grossly material!

May I have the honour of taking you down to supper, Comtesse? I am so fond of eating! I am very English in all my tastes. You look quite English, Vicomte, quite English.

Like some supper, Mrs. Montford, I never touch supper. Then I will watch some one else. Montford, do not make these painful scenes of jealousy in public! And are you going to any of our country houses before you leave England, Mrs. In England people actually try to be brilliant at breakfast.

That is so dreadful of them! Only dull people are brilliant at breakfast. And then the family skeleton is always reading family prayers. My stay in England really depends on you, Sir Robert. I want to talk to you about a great political and financial scheme, about this Argentine Canal Company, in fact.

A pair of folding doors at the back open into the drawing-room. The fire is lit. Phipps, the butler, is arranging some newspapers on the writing-table. The distinction of Phipps is his impassivity. He has been termed by enthusiasts the Ideal Butler. The Sphinx is not so incommunicable.

He is a mask with a manner. Of his intellectual or emotional life, history knows nothing. He represents the dominance of form. He is wearing a silk hat and Inverness cape. White-gloved, he carries a Louis Seize cane. His are all the delicate fopperies of Fashion. One sees that he stands in immediate relation to modern life, makes it indeed, and so masters it. He is the first well-dressed philosopher in the history of thought.

I am the only person of the smallest importance in London at present who wears a buttonhole. What is unfashionable is what other people wear. The only possible society is oneself. Makes me look a little too old. Makes me almost in the prime of life, eh, Phipps? For the future a more trivial buttonhole, Phipps, on Thursday evenings.

She has had a loss in her family lately, which perhaps accounts for the lack of triviality your lordship complains of in the buttonhole. They are extremely fortunate in that respect. Phipps, when did this letter arrive? That is rather curious. I thought Robert was to write. Wonder what Lady Chiltern has got to say to me?

I am coming to you. But what an hour to call! I shall have to give up going to the Berkshires. However, it is always nice to be expected, and not to arrive.

Well, I will make her stand by her husband. That is the only thing for her to do. That is the only thing for any woman to do. It is the growth of the moral sense in women that makes marriage such a hopeless, one-sided institution. She should be here soon. I must tell Phipps I am not in to any one else. Some extraordinary mistake in nature, I suppose. Delighted to see you, my dear father. Which is the most comfortable chair? It is the chair I use myself, when I have visitors.

No draught, I hope, in this room? No draughts at home. Want to have a serious conversation with you, sir. What is your objection to the hour? I think the hour is an admirable hour! I am very sorry, but it is not my day. It makes me talk in my sleep. What does that matter? You are not married. That is what I have come to talk to you about, sir. You have got to get married, and at once. Why, when I was your age, sir, I had been an inconsolable widower for three months, and was already paying my addresses to your admirable mother.

Damme, sir, it is your duty to get married. Every man of position is married nowadays. Bachelors are not fashionable any more. They are a damaged lot. Too much is known about them. You must get a wife, sir. Look where your friend Robert Chiltern has got to by probity, hard work, and a sensible marriage with a good woman. I think I shall, father.

Then I should be happy. You are heartless, sir, quite heartless. You are thirty-four years of age, sir. This buttonhole is not. And there is a draught in your room, besides, which makes your conduct worse.

Why did you tell me there was no draught, sir? I feel a draught, sir, I feel it distinctly. It is a dreadful draught. I will come and see you to-morrow, father. We can talk over anything you like. Let me help you on with your cloak, father. Put down my cloak, sir.

But let us go into another room. There is a dreadful draught here. Phipps, is there a good fire in the smoking-room? Your sneezes are quite heartrending. I was merely expressing sympathy. There is a great deal too much of that sort of thing going on nowadays. If there was less sympathy in the world there would be less trouble in the world. Everybody one meets is a paradox nowadays.

It is a great bore. It makes society so obvious. Show her into the drawing-room when she arrives. I shall see her myself. She has a cloak of black satin,lined with dead rose-leaf silk. I was told he was at home? His lordship will come to you there. To expect the unexpected shows a thoroughly modern intellect. I shall have to alter all this. It is far too glaring. It will be delightful to catch him. Men always look so silly when they are caught. And they are always being caught. What a very interesting picture!

Wonder what his correspondence is like. Oh, what a very uninteresting correspondence! Bills and cards, debts and dowagers! Who on earth writes to him on pink paper? How silly to write on pink paper!

It looks like the beginning of a middle-class romance. Romance should never begin with sentiment. It should begin with science and end with a settlement. I remember it perfectly. This Penguin Reader play is written for acting - making English come alive. Ипотечный кредит и перспективы его развития в РФ Банковский менеджмент.

Исторические предпосылки и экономические условия развития ипотечного кредита Банковский менеджмент. Управление трудовой мотивацией Управление персоналом. Гладышева Марина Михайловна marina studentochka. Цены, скидки и акции. Реферат , доклад , эссе , контрольная.

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