thegoodfellas/blogset-br huggingface dataset:
be quite well.Miss Prism. [[Drawing herself up.]]Your guardian enjoys the best of health, and his gravity of demeanour isespecially to be commended in one so comparatively young as he is. I know noone who has a higher sense of duty and responsibility.Cecily. I suppose that is why he oftenlooks a little bored when we three are together.Miss Prism. Cecily! I am surprised at you.Mr. Worthing has many troubles in his life. Idle merriment and triviality wouldbe out of place in his conversation. You must remember his constant anxietyabout that unfortunate young man his brother.Cecily. I wish Uncle Jack would allowthat unfortunate young man, his brother, to come down here sometimes. We mighthave a good influence over him, Miss Prism. I am sure you certainly would. Youknow German, and geology, and things of that kind influence a man very much.[Cecily begins to write inher diary.]Miss Prism. [[Shaking her head.]]I do not think that even I could produce any effect on a character thataccording to his own brother's admission is irretrievably weak and vacillating.Indeed I am not sure that I would desire to reclaim him. I am not in favour ofthis modern mania for turning bad people into good people at a moment's notice.As a man sows so let him reap. You must put away your diary, Cecily. I reallydon't see why you should keep a diary at all.Cecily. I keep a diary in order to enterthe wonderful secrets of my life. If I didn't write them down I should probablyforget all about them.Miss Prism. Memory, my dear Cecily, is thediary that we all carry about with us.Cecily. Yes, but it usually chroniclesthe things that have never happened, and couldn't possibly have happened. Ibelieve that Memory is responsible for nearly all the three-volume novels thatMudie sends us. p.473Miss Prism. Do not speak slightingly of thethree-volume novel, Cecily. I wrote one myself in earlierdays.Cecily. Did you really, Miss Prism? Howwonderfully clever you are! I hope it did not end happily? I don't like novelsthat end happily. They depress me so much.Miss Prism. The good ended happily, and thebad unhappily. That is what Fiction means.Cecily. I suppose so. But it seems veryunfair. And was your novel ever published?Miss Prism. Alas! no. The manuscriptunfortunately was abandoned. [[Cecily starts.]] I use theword in the sense of lost or mislaid. To your work, child; these speculationsare profitless.Cecily. [[Smiling.]] ButI see dear Dr. Chasuble coming up through the garden.Miss Prism. [[Rising and advancing.]]Dr. Chasuble! This is indeed a pleasure.Enter Canon Chasuble.Chasuble. And how are we this morning? MissPrism, you are, I trust, well?Cecily. Miss Prism has just beencomplaining of a slight headache. I think it would do her so much good to havea short stroll with you in the Park, Dr. Chasuble.Miss Prism. Cecily, I have not mentionedanything about a headache.Cecily. No, dear Miss Prism, I know that,but I felt instinctively that you had a headache. Indeed I was thinking aboutthat, and not about my German lesson, when the Rector came in.Chasuble. I hope, Cecily, you are notinattentive.Cecily. Oh, I am afraid I am.Chasuble. That is strange. Were I fortunateenough
to be Miss Prism's pupil, I would hang upon her lips. [[MissPrism glares.]] I spoke metaphorically.---My metaphor was drawnfrom bees. Ahem! Mr. Worthing, I suppose, has not returned from town yet?Miss Prism. We do not expect him till Mondayafternoon.Chasuble. Ah yes, he usually likes to spendhis Sunday in London. He is not one of those whose sole aim is enjoyment, as,by all p.474accounts, that unfortunate youngman his brother seems to be. But I must not disturb Egeria and her pupil anylonger. Miss Prism. Egeria? My name is Ltitia,Doctor.Chasuble. [[Bowing.]] Aclassical allusion merely, drawn from the pagan authors. I shall see you bothno doubt at Evensong?Miss Prism. I think, dear Doctor, I will havea stroll with you. I find I have a headache after all, and a walk might do itgood.Chasuble. With pleasure, Miss Prism, withpleasure. We might go as far as the schools and back.Miss Prism. That would be delightful. Cecily,you will read your Political Economy in my absence. The chapter on the Fall ofthe Rupee you may omit. It is somewhat too sensational. Even these metallicproblems have their melodramatic side.[Goes down the garden withDr. Chasuble.]Cecily. [[Picks up books and throwsthem back on table.]] Horrid Political Economy! Horrid Geography!Horrid, horrid German!Enter Merriman with a card on a salver.Merriman. Mr. Ernest Worthing has justdriven over from the station. 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 tellhim Mr. Worthing was in town?Merriman. Yes, Miss. He seemed very muchdisappointed. I mentioned that you and Miss Prism were in the garden. He saidhe was anxious to speak to you privately for a moment.Cecily. Ask Mr. Ernest Worthing to comehere. I suppose you had better talk to the housekeeper about a room for him.Merriman. Yes, Miss.[Merriman goes off.]Cecily. I have never met any reallywicked person before. I feel rather frightened. I am so afraid he will lookjust like everyone else. [[Enter Algernon, very gay and debonair.]]He does!Algernon. [[Raising his hat.]]You are my little cousin Cecily, I'm sure.Cecily. You are under some strangemistake. I am not little. In fact, I believe I am more than usually tall for myage. [[Algernon is rather taken aback.]] But I am yourcousin Cecily. You, I see from your card, are Uncle Jack's brother, my cousinErnest, my wicked cousin Ernest. p.475Algernon. Oh! I am not really wicked atall, cousin Cecily. You mustn't think that I am wicked.Cecily. If you are not, then you havecertainly been deceiving us all in a very inexcusable manner. I hope you havenot been leading a double life, pretending to be wicked and being really goodall the time. That would be hypocrisy.Algernon. [[Looks at her in amazement.]]Oh! Of course I have been rather reckless.Cecily. I am glad to hear it.Algernon. In fact, now you mention thesubject, I have been very bad in my own small way.Cecily. I don't think you should be soproud of that, though I am sure it must have been very pleasant.Algernon. It is much pleasanter being herewith you.Cecily. I can't understand how you arehere at all. Uncle
Prism. [[Bitterly.]]People who live entirely for pleasure usually are.Jack. But it is not for any child, dearDoctor. I am very fond of children. No! the fact is, I would like to be christenedmyself, this afternoon, if you have nothing better to do.Chasuble. But surely, Mr. Worthing, youhave been christened already?Jack. I don't remember anything aboutit.Chasuble. But have you any grave doubts onthe subject?Jack. I certainly intend to have. Ofcourse I don't know if the thing p.479would bother you in any way, orif you think I am a little too old now. Chasuble. Not at all. The sprinkling, and,indeed, the immersion of adults is a perfectly canonical practice.Jack. Immersion!Chasuble. You need have no apprehensions.Sprinkling is all that is necessary, or indeed I think advisable. Our weatheris so changeable. At what hour would you wish the ceremony performed?Jack. Oh, I might trot round about fiveif that would suit you.Chasuble. Perfectly, perfectly! In fact Ihave two similar ceremonies to perform at that time. A case of twins thatoccurred recently 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 beingchristened along with other babies. It would be childish. Would half-past fivedo?Chasuble. Admirably! Admirably![Takes out watch.]And now, dear Mr. Worthing, Iwill not intrude any longer into a house of sorrow. I would merely beg you notto be too much bowed down by grief. What seems to us bitter trials are oftenblessings in disguise.Miss Prism. This seems to me a blessing of anextremely obvious kind.Enter Cecily from the house.Cecily. Uncle Jack! Oh, I am pleased to seeyou back. But what horrid 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 look as if you had toothache, and I have got such a surprisefor you. Who do you think is in the dining-room? Your brother!Jack. Who?Cecily. Your brother Ernest. He arrivedabout half an hour ago.Jack. What nonsense! I haven't got abrother!Cecily. Oh, don't say that. However badlyhe may have behaved to you in the past he is still your brother. You couldn'tbe so p.480heartless as to disown him. I'lltell him to come out. And you will shake hands with him, won't you, Uncle Jack?[Runs back into the house.]Chasuble. These are very joyful tidings.Miss Prism. After we had all been resigned tohis loss, his sudden return seems to me peculiarly distressing.Jack. My brother is in the dining-room?I don't know what it all means. I think it is perfectly absurd.[Enter Algernon and Cecilyhand in hand. They come slowly up to Jack.]Jack. Good heavens![Motions Algernon away.]Algernon. Brother John, I have come downfrom town to tell you that I am very sorry for all the trouble I have given you,and that I intend to lead a better life in the future.[Jack glares at him and doesnot take his hand.]Cecily. Uncle Jack, you are not going torefuse your own brother's hand?Jack. Nothing will induce me to takehis hand. I think his coming down
here disgraceful. He knows perfectly wellwhy.Cecily. Uncle Jack, do be nice. There issome good in everyone. Ernest has just been telling me about his poor invalidfriend 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 the pleasures of Londonto sit by a bed of pain.Jack. Oh! he has been talking aboutBunbury, has he?Cecily. Yes, he has told me all aboutpoor Mr. Bunbury, and his terrible state of health.Jack. Bunbury! Well, I won't have himtalk to you about Bunbury or about anything else. It is enough to drive oneperfectly frantic.Algernon. Of course I admit that the faultswere all on my side. But I must say that I think that Brother John's coldnessto me is peculiarly painful. I expected a more enthusiastic welcome, especiallyconsidering it is the first time I have come here.Cecily. Uncle Jack, if you don't shakehands with Ernest, I will never forgive you.Jack. Never forgive me?Cecily. Never, never, never!Jack. Well, this is the last time Ishall ever do it. p.481[Shakes hands with Algernonand glares.]Chasuble. It's pleasant, is it not, to seeso perfect a reconciliation? I think we might leave the two brothers together.Miss Prism. Cecily, you will come with us.Cecily. Certainly, Miss Prism. My littletask of reconciliation is over.Chasuble. You have done a beautiful actiontoday, dear child.Miss Prism. We must not be premature in ourjudgments.Cecily. I feel very happy.[They all go off except Jackand Algernon.]Jack. You young scoundrel, Algy, youmust get out of this place as soon as possible. I don't allow any Bunburyinghere. [Enter Merriman.] Merriman. I have put Mr. Ernest's things inthe room next to yours, sir. I suppose that is all right?Jack. What?Merriman. Mr. Ernest's luggage, sir. I haveunpacked it and put it in the room next to your own.Jack. His luggage?Merriman. Yes, sir. Three portmanteaux, adressing-case, two hat-boxes, and a large luncheon-basket.Algernon. I am afraid I can't stay morethan a week this time.Jack. Merriman, order the dog-cart atonce. Mr. Ernest has been suddenly called back to town.Merriman. Yes, sir.[Goes back into the house.]Algernon. What a fearful liar you are,Jack. I have not been called back to town at all.Jack. Yes, you have.Algernon. I haven't heard anyone call me.Jack. Your duty as a gentleman callsyou back.Algernon. My duty as a gentleman has neverinterfered with my pleasures in the smallest degree.Jack. I can quite understand that.Algernon. Well, Cecily is a darling.Jack. You are not to talk of MissCardew like that. I don't like it.Algernon. Well, I don't like your clothes.You look perfectly ridiculous in them. Why on earth don't you go up and change?It is perfectly childish to be in deep mourning for a man who is p.482actually staying for a whole weekwith you in your house as a guest. I call it grotesque. Jack. You are certainly not stayingwith me for a whole week as a guest or anything else. You have got to leave . .. by the four-five train.Algernon. I certainly won't leave you solong as you are in mourning. It would be most unfriendly. If I were in mourningyou
come round next week,at the same hour. p.484Merriman. [[Looks at Cecily, who makesno sign.]] Yes, sir.[Merriman retires.]Cecily. Uncle Jack would be very muchannoyed if he knew you were staying on till next week, at the same hour.Algernon. Oh, I don't care about Jack. Idon't care for anybody in the whole world but you. I love you, Cecily. You willmarry me, won't you?Cecily. You silly boy! Of course. Why, wehave been engaged for the last three months.Algernon. For the last three months?Cecily. Yes, it will be exactly threemonths on Thursday.Algernon. But how did we become engaged?Cecily. Well, ever since dear Uncle Jackfirst confessed to us that he had a younger brother who was very wicked andbad, you of course have formed the chief topic of conversation between myselfand Miss Prism. And of course a man who is much talked about is always veryattractive. One feels there must be something in him after all. I daresay itwas foolish of me, but I fell in love with you, Ernest.Algernon. Darling! And when was theengagement actually settled?Cecily. On the 14th of February last. Wornout by your entire ignorance of my existence, I determined to end the matterone way or the other, and after a long struggle with myself I accepted youunder this dear old tree here. The next day I bought this little ring in yourname, and this is the little bangle with the true lover's knot I promised youalways to wear.Algernon. Did I give you this? It's verypretty, isn't it?Cecily. Yes, you've wonderfully goodtaste, Ernest. It's the excuse I've always given for your leading such a badlife. And this is the box in which I keep all your dear letters.[Kneels at table, opens box,and produces letters tied up with blue ribbon.]Algernon. My letters! But my own sweetCecily, I have never written you any letters.Cecily. You need hardly remind me ofthat, Ernest. I remember only too well that I was forced to write your lettersfor you. I always wrote three times a week, and sometimes oftener.Algernon. Oh, do let me read them, Cecily!Cecily. Oh, I couldn't possibly. Theywould make you far too p.485conceited. [[Replaces box.]]The three you wrote me after I had broken off the engagement are so beautiful,and so badly spelled, that even now I can hardly read them without crying alittle. Algernon. But was our engagement everbroken off?Cecily. Of course it was. On the 22nd oflast March. You can see the entry if you like. [[Shows diary.]]`Today I broke off my engagement with Ernest. I feel it is better to do so. Theweather still continues charming.'Algernon. But why on earth did you break itoff? What had I done? I had done nothing at all. Cecily, I am very much hurtindeed to hear you broke it off. Particularly when the weather was so charming.Cecily. It would hardly have been areally serious engagement if it hadn't been broken off at least once. But Iforgave you before the week was out.Algernon. [[Crossing to her, andkneeling.]] What a perfect angel you are, Cecily!Cecily. You dear romantic boy. [[Hekisses her, she puts her fingers through his hair.]] I hope
yourhair curls naturally, does it?Algernon. Yes, darling, with a little helpfrom others.Cecily. I am so glad.Algernon. You'll never break off ourengagement again, Cecily?Cecily. I don't think I could break itoff now that I have actually met you. Besides, of course, there is the questionof your name.Algernon. Yes, of course.[Nervously.]Cecily. You must not laugh at me,darling, but it had always been a girlish dream of mine to love someone whosename was Ernest. [[Algernon rises, Cecily also.]] There is something inthat name that seems to inspire absolute confidence. I pity any poor marriedwoman whose husband is not called Ernest.Algernon. But, my dear child, do you meanto say you could not love me if I had some other name?Cecily. But what name?Algernon. Oh, any name youlike---Algernon---for instance . . .Cecily. But I don't like the name ofAlgernon.Algernon. Well, my own dear, sweet, lovinglittle darling, I really can't see why you should object to the name ofAlgernon. It is not at all a bad name. In fact, it is rather an aristocraticname. p.486Half of the chaps who get intothe Bankruptcy Court are called Algernon. But seriously, Cecily . . . [[Movingto her.]] . . . if my name was Algy, couldn't you love me? Cecily. [[Rising.]] Imight respect you, Ernest, I might admire your character, but I fear that Ishould not be able to give you my undivided attention.Algernon. Ahem! Cecily! [[Pickingup hat.]] Your Rector here is, I suppose, thoroughly experiencedin the practice of all the rites and ceremonials of the Church?Cecily. Oh, yes. Dr. Chasuble is a mostlearned man. He has never written a single book, so you can imagine how much heknows.Algernon. I must see him at once on a mostimportant christening---I mean on most important business.Cecily. Oh!Algernon. I shan't be away more than halfan hour.Cecily. Considering that we have beenengaged since February the 14th, and that I only met you today for the firsttime, I think it is rather hard that you should leave me for so long a periodas half an hour. Couldn't you make it twenty minutes?Algernon. I'll be back in no time.[Kisses her and rushes downthe garden.]Cecily. What an impetuous boy he is! Ilike his hair so much. I must enter his proposal in my diary.Enter Merriman.Merriman. A Miss Fairfax has just called tosee Mr. Worthing. On very important business Miss Fairfax states.Cecily. Isn't Mr. Worthing in hislibrary?Merriman. Mr. Worthing went over in thedirection of the Rectory some time ago.Cecily. Pray ask the lady to come outhere; Mr. Worthing is sure to be back soon. And you can bring tea.Merriman. Yes, Miss.[Goes out.]Cecily. Miss Fairfax! I suppose one ofthe many good elderly women who are associated with Uncle Jack in some of hisphilanthropic work in London. I don't quite like women who are interested inphilanthropic work. I think it is so forward of them. p.487Enter Merriman.Merriman. Miss Fairfax.Enter Gwendolen.[Exit Merriman.]Cecily. [[Advancing to meet her.]]Pray let me introduce myself to you. My name is Cecily Cardew.Gwendolen. Cecily Cardew? [[Movingto her and shaking hands.]] What a very sweet name! Somethingtells me that we are going to be great friends. I like you
already more than Ican say. My first impressions of people are never wrong.Cecily. How nice of you to like me somuch after we have known each other such a comparatively short time. Pray sitdown.Gwendolen. [[Still standing up.]]I may call you Cecily, may I not?Cecily. With pleasure!Gwendolen. And you will always call meGwendolen, won't you?Cecily. If you wish.Gwendolen. Then that is all quite settled,is it not?Cecily. I hope so.[A pause. They both sit downtogether.]Gwendolen. Perhaps this might be afavourable opportunity for my mentioning who I am. My father is Lord Bracknell.You have never heard of papa, I suppose?Cecily. I don't think so.Gwendolen. Outside the family circle, papa,I am glad to say, is entirely unknown. I think that is quite as it should be.The home seems to me to be the proper sphere for the man. And certainly once aman begins to neglect his domestic duties he becomes painfully effeminate, doeshe not? And I don't like that. It makes men so very attractive. Cecily, mamma,whose views on education are remarkably strict, has brought me up to beextremely short-sighted; it is part of her system; so do you mind my looking atyou through my glasses?Cecily. Oh! not at all, Gwendolen. I amvery fond of being looked at.Gwendolen. [[After examining Cecilycarefully through a lorgnette.]] You are here on a short visit, Isuppose.Cecily. Oh no! I live here.Gwendolen. [[Severely.]]Really? Your mother, no doubt, or some female relative of advanced years,resides here also? p.488Cecily. Oh no! I have no mother, nor, infact, any relations.Gwendolen. Indeed?Cecily. My dear guardian, with theassistance of Miss Prism, has the arduous task of looking after me.Gwendolen. Your guardian?Cecily. Yes, I am Mr. Worthing's ward.Gwendolen. Oh! It is strange he never mentionedto me that he had a ward. How secretive of him! He grows more interestinghourly. I am not sure, however, that the news inspires me with feelings ofunmixed delight. [[Rising and going to her.]] I am very fond of you,Cecily; I have liked you ever since I met you! But I am bound to state that nowthat I know that you are Mr. Worthing's ward, I cannot help expressing a wishyou were---well just a little older than you seem to be---and not quite so veryalluring in appearance. In fact, if I may speak candidly---Cecily. Pray do! I think that wheneverone has anything unpleasant to say, one should always be quite candid.Gwendolen. Well, to speak with perfectcandour, Cecily, I wish that you were fully forty-two, and more than usuallyplain for your age. Ernest has a strong upright nature. He is the very soul oftruth and honour. Disloyalty would be as impossible to him as deception. Buteven men of the noblest possible moral character are extremely susceptible tothe influence of the physical charms of others. Modern, no less than AncientHistory, supplies us with many most painful examples of what I refer to. If itwere not so, indeed, History would be quite unreadable.Cecily. I beg your pardon, Gwendolen, didyou say Ernest?Gwendolen. Yes.Cecily. Oh, but it is not Mr. ErnestWorthing who is my guardian. It is his brother---his elder brother.Gwendolen. [[Sitting down again.]]Ernest never mentioned to me