不可儿戏：一部给严肃人的轻喜剧

Cornered, Jack explains: old Mr. Thomas Cardew adopted him and made him guardian to granddaughter Miss Cecily Cardew; the place is “not in Shropshire.” As guardian, Jack maintains “a very high moral tone,” hence invented brother Ernest, who gets into scrapes in town. Algernon—believing “the truth is rarely pure and never simple”—labels him a Bunburyist and explains his own invention: a permanent invalid named Bunbury whose ailing health excuses boring dinners. He lectures on “Bunburying” and declares married life is “three is company and two is none.” Jack plans to “kill” Ernest by week’s end and replies this is what the corrupt French Drama has propounded for fifty years—Algernon adds that the happy English home has proved it in half the time.

The electric bell rings “in that Wagnerian manner,” and Algernon offers to spirit Aunt Augusta away for ten minutes if Jack will let him dine at Willis’s. Jack agrees, provided he is serious about meals.

Part 2

Lane announces Lady Bracknell and Miss Fairfax. Algernon hurries to greet them; Lady Bracknell greets him maternally, bowing icily at Jack. Accepting tea, Algernon lifts the empty plate in horror; Lane reports no cucumbers in the market, even for ready money. Lady Bracknell graciously notes it doesn’t matter—she had crumpets with Lady Harbury, whose hair has turned gold from grief.

She plans to seat Algernon next to Mary Farquhar, “so attentive to her husband,” horrifying him. He produces a telegram claiming his poor friend Bunbury is very ill, begging off dinner. Lady Bracknell scathingly declares Mr. Bunbury must decide “whether he was going to live or to die,” pronouncing sympathy with invalids “morbid.” Health, she insists, “is the primary duty of life.” She demands to review Algernon’s music programme for her final reception, banning French songs as improper but approving German as “a thoroughly respectable language.” She and Algernon retire to the music-room, leaving Gwendolen behind.

Gwendolen and Jack seize the moment. She warns him never to discuss the weather—people always mean something else, and he confesses he does. Jack nervously declares he has admired her more than any girl. Gwendolen knows, and confesses her ideal is to love someone named Ernest—“there is something in that name that inspires absolute confidence.” She alludes to her journal, in which she wrote about him “long before we met.” Jack asks if she could love him under a different name; she dismisses this as metaphysical speculation. Jack admits he doesn’t care for Ernest, but Gwendolen insists it has music and vibrations, while Jack has none and belongs to all the plain Jacks of the world.

He blurts they must marry at once. Gwendolen notes he hasn’t actually proposed. He drops to his knees; she accepts, noting men often propose for practice, and admires his blue eyes.