Third Act

Scene: The Library in Lord Goring’s house. An Adam room. On the right is the door leading into the hall. On the left, the door of the smoking-room. 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.

Enter Lord Goring° in evening dress with a buttonhole. 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

Lord Goring Got my second buttonhole for me, Phipps?

Phipps Yes, my lord.

Takes his hat, cane, and cape, and presents new buttonhole on salver

Lord Goring Rather distinguished thing, Phipps. I am the only person of the smallest importance in London at present who wears a buttonhole.

Phipps Yes, my lord. I have observed that.

Lord Goring (taking out old buttonhole) You see, Phipps, Fashion is what one wears oneself. What is unfashionable is what other people wear.

Phipps Yes, my lord.

Lord Goring Just as vulgarity is simply the conduct of other people.

Phipps Yes, my lord.

Lord Goring (putting in new buttonhole) And falsehoods the truths of other people.

Phipps Yes, my lord.

Lord Goring Other people are quite dreadful. The only possible society is oneself.

Phipps Yes, my lord.

Lord Goring To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance, Phipps.

Phipps Yes, my lord.

Lord Goring (looking at himself in the glass) Don’t think I quite like this buttonhole, Phipps. Makes me look a little too old. Makes me almost in the prime of life, eh, Phipps?

Phipps I don’t observe any alteration in your lordship’s appearance.

Lord Goring You don’t, Phipps?

Phipps No, my lord.

Lord Goring I am not quite sure. For the future a more trivial buttonhole, Phipps, on Thursday evenings.

Phipps I will speak to the florist, my lord. She has had a loss in her family lately, which perhaps accounts for the lack of triviality your lordship complains of in the buttonhole.