SCENE
The octagon room at Sir Robert Chiltern’s house in Grosvenor Square.
[The room is brilliantly lighted and full of guests. At the top of the staircase stands lady chiltern, a woman of grave Greek beauty, about twenty-seven years of age. She receives the guests as they come up. Over the well of the staircase hangs a great chandelier with wax lights, which illumine a large eighteenth-century French tapestry—representing the Triumph of Love, from a design by Boucher—that is stretched on the staircase wall. On the right is the entrance to the music-room. The sound of a string quartette is faintly heard. The entrance on the left leads to other reception-rooms. mrs. marchmont and lady basildon, two very pretty women, are seated together on a Louis Seize sofa. They are types of exquisite fragility. Their affectation of manner has a delicate charm. Watteau would have loved to paint them.]
MRS. MARCHMONT
Going on to the Hartlocks’ to-night, Margaret?
LADY BASILDON
I suppose so. Are you?
MRS. MARCHMONT
Yes. Horribly tedious parties they give, don’t they?
LADY BASILDON
Horribly tedious! Never know why I go. Never know why I go anywhere.
MRS. MARCHMONT
I come here to be educated.
LADY BASILDON
Ah! I hate being educated!
MRS. MARCHMONT
So do I. It puts one almost on a level with the commercial classes, doesn’t it? But dear Gertrude Chiltern is always telling me that I should have some serious purpose in life. So I come here to try to find one.
The octagon room at Sir Robert Chiltern’s house in Grosvenor Square.
[The room is brilliantly lighted and full of guests. At the top of the staircase stands lady chiltern, a woman of grave Greek beauty, about twenty-seven years of age. She receives the guests as they come up. Over the well of the staircase hangs a great chandelier with wax lights, which illumine a large eighteenth-century French tapestry—representing the Triumph of Love, from a design by Boucher—that is stretched on the staircase wall. On the right is the entrance to the music-room. The sound of a string quartette is faintly heard. The entrance on the left leads to other reception-rooms. mrs. marchmont and lady basildon, two very pretty women, are seated together on a Louis Seize sofa. They are types of exquisite fragility. Their affectation of manner has a delicate charm. Watteau would have loved to paint them.]
MRS. MARCHMONT
Going on to the Hartlocks’ to-night, Margaret?
LADY BASILDON
I suppose so. Are you?
MRS. MARCHMONT
Yes. Horribly tedious parties they give, don’t they?
LADY BASILDON
Horribly tedious! Never know why I go. Never know why I go anywhere.
MRS. MARCHMONT
I come here to be educated.
LADY BASILDON
Ah! I hate being educated!
MRS. MARCHMONT
So do I. It puts one almost on a level with the commercial classes, doesn’t it? But dear Gertrude Chiltern is always telling me that I should have some serious purpose in life. So I come here to try to find one.
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