she cannot marry without my consent until she comes of age. That consent
I absolutely decline to give.
Lady Bracknell.
Upon what grounds may I ask?
Algernon is an extremely, I
may almost say an ostentatiously, eligible young man. He has nothing, but
he looks everything. What more can one desire?
Jack.
It pains me very much to
have to speak frankly to you, Lady Bracknell,
about your nephew, but the fact is that I do not approve at all of his moral
character. I suspect him of being untruthful. [
Algernon
and
Cecily
look at
him in indignant amazement.]
Lady Bracknell.
Untruthful! My nephew Algernon? Impossible! He is an
Oxonian.
Jack.
I fear there can be no possible doubt about the matter. This
afternoon during my temporary absence in London on an important
question of romance, he obtained admission
to my house by means of the
false pretence of being my brother. Under an assumed name he drank, I’ve
just been informed by my butler, an entire pint bottle of my Perrier-Jouet,
Brut, ’89; wine I was specially reserving for myself.
Continuing his
disgraceful deception, he succeeded in the course of the afternoon in
alienating the affections of my only ward. He subsequently stayed to tea,
and devoured every single muffin. And what makes his conduct all the more
heartless is, that he was perfectly well aware from the first that I have no
brother, that I
never had a brother, and that I don’t intend to have a
brother, not even of any kind. I distinctly told him so myself yesterday
afternoon.
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