Идеальный муж

УДК 
372.8
ББК 
81.2 Англ-93
      У 12

ISBN 978-5-9925-0599-3

Уайльд О.
У 12 Идеальный муж: Книга для чтения на английском языке. — СПб.: КАРО, 2010. — 144 с. — (Серия 
«Selected Plays»).

ISBN 978-5-9925-0599-3

Оскар Уайльд (1854–1900) — английский писатель, досконально изучивший все подводные камни семейной жизни.
В самой известной своей пьесе он предоставляет читателю 
право самому ответить на живо трепещущие вопросы: следует ли 
безоговорочно доверять своей второй половине? Надо ли идеализировать спутника жизни или лучше принимать его со всеми 
недостатками? Прощать за ошибки, совершенные в прошлом, 
или безжалостно осуждать, сокрушая то, что строилось годами?
Красивый язык, парадоксальные, но и логичные высказывания, мягкий юмор, запутанность положений заставят читателя вновь и вновь обращаться к этой книге, а комментарии и 
словарик помогут ему в полной мере оценить прелесть и афористичность языка.
В книге приводится неадаптированный текст на языке 
оригинала с комментариями и словарем.

УДК 372.8
ББК 81.2 Англ-93

© КАРО, 2010

An Ideal Husband

THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

THE EARL OF CAVERSHAM
K.G. VISCOUNT GORING, HIS SON
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN, 
Bart., Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs
VICOMTE DE NANJAC, 
Attaché at the French Embassy in London
MR. MONTFORD MASON, 
butler to Sir Robert Chiltern
PHIPPS, Lord Goring’s servant
JAMES AND HAROLD, footmen
LADY CHILTERN
LADY MARKBY
THE COUNTESS OF BASILDON
MRS. MARCHMONT
MISS MABEL CHILTERN, Sir Robert Chiltern’s sister
MRS. CHEVELEY

THE SCENES OF THE PLAY

ACT I.  
Th e Octagon Room in Sir Robert Chiltern’s
 
House in Grosvenor Square
ACT II.  Morning-room in Sir Robert Chiltern’s 
 
House
ACT III.  Th e Library of Lord Goring’s House 
 
in Curzon Street
ACT IV. Same as Act II
TIME:  
Th e Present
PLACE: 
London

Th e action of the play is completed within twenty-four 
hours.

ACT ONE

SCENE
Th e octagon room at Sir Robert Chiltern’s house in 
Grosvenor Square.
Th e 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 Boucher1 — that is 
stretched on the staircase wall. On the right is the entrance 
to the music-room. Th e sound of a string quartette is faintly 
heard. Th e 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 sofa2. Th ey are types of 
exquisite fragility. Th eir aff ectation of manner has a delicate 
charm. Watteau3 would have loved to paint them.

1 Boucher — Франсуа Буше (1703–1770) — французский 
живописец, представитель рококо (мифологические и пасторальные сценки)
2 Louis Seize sofa — диванчик в стиле Людовика XVI (1754–
1793)
3 Watteau — Антуан Ватто (1684–1721) — французский живописец и рисовальщик («галантные празднества» — бытовые и 
театральные сцены)

OSCAR WILDE

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 fi nd one.
LADY BASILDON.  [Looking round through her lorgnette.] I don’t 
see anybody here to-night whom one could possibly call 
a serious purpose. Th e man who took me in to dinner 
talked to me about his wife the whole time.
MRS. MARCHMONT.  How very trivial of him!
LADY BASILDON.  Terribly trivial! What did your man 
talk about?
MRS. MARCHMONT.  About myself.
LADY BASILDON.  [Languidly.] And were you interested?
MRS. MARCHMONT.  [Shaking her head.] Not in the smallest degree.
LADY BASILDON.  What martyrs we are, dear Margaret!
MRS. MARCHMONT.  [Rising.] And how well it becomes 
us, Olivia!

They rise and go towards the music-room. The VICOMTE DE 
NANJAC, a young attaché known for his neckties and his Anglomania, approaches with a low bow, and enters into conversation.

AN IDEAL HUSBAND

MASON.  [Announcing guests from the top of the staircase.] Mr. and 
Lady Jane Barford. Lord Caversham.

Enter LORD CAVERSHAM, an old gentleman of seventy, 
wearing the riband and star of the Garter1. 
A fi ne Whig type. Rather like a portrait by Lawrence2.

LORD CAVERSHAM.  Good-evening, Lady Chiltern! Has 
my good-for-nothing young son been here?
LADY CHILTERN.  [Smiling.] I don’t think Lord Goring 
has arrived yet.
MABEL CHILTERN.  [Coming up to LORD CAVERSHAM.] Why 
do you call Lord Goring good-for-nothing?

MABEL CHILTERN is a perfect example of the English type 
of prettiness, the apple-blossom type. 
She has all the fragrance and freedom of a fl ower. 
Th ere is ripple aft er ripple of sunlight in her hair, 
and the little mouth, with its parted lips, is expectant, 
like the mouth of a child. She has the fascinating tyranny 
of youth, and the astonishing courage of innocence. 
To sane people she is not reminiscent of any work of art. 
But she is really like a Tanagra statuette3, 
and would be rather annoyed if she were told so.

LORD CAVERSHAM.  Because he leads such an idle life.

1 star of the Garter — звезда ордена Подвязки — высочайшей 
награды британского рыцарства; орден учрежден Эдуардом III 
в 1348 г.
2 Lawrence — Томас Лоренс (1769–1830) — английский 
живописец (идеализированные, эффектные, виртуозные по 
живописи портреты)
3 a Tanagra statuette — Танагра — город в Древней Греции; во 
время раскопок обнаружено большое количество терракотовых 
статуэток

OSCAR WILDE

MABEL CHILTERN.  How can you say such a thing? Why, 
he rides in the Row at ten o’clock in the morning, goes to 
the Opera three times a week, changes his clothes at least 
fi ve times a day, and dines out every night of the season. 
You don’t call that leading an idle life, do you?
LORD CAVERSHAM.  [Looking at her with a kindly twinkle in 
his eyes.] You are a very charming young lady!
MABEL CHILTERN.  How sweet of you to say that, Lord 
Caversham! Do come to us more oft en. You know we 
are always at home on Wednesdays, and you look so 
well with your star!
LORD CAVERSHAM.  Never go anywhere now. Sick of 
London Society. Shouldn’t mind being introduced to 
my own tailor; he always votes on the right side. But 
object strongly to being sent down to dinner with my 
wife’s milliner1. Never could stand Lady Caversham’s 
bonnets.
MABEL CHILTERN.  Oh, I love London Society! I think 
it has immensely improved. It is entirely composed 
now of beautiful idiots and brilliant lunatics. Just what 
Society should be.
LORD CAVERSHAM.  Hum! Which is Goring? Beautiful 
idiot, or the other thing?
MABEL CHILTERN.  [Gravely.] I have been obliged for the 
present to put Lord Goring into a class quite by himself. 
But he is developing charmingly!
LORD CAVERSHAM.  Into what?
MABEL CHILTERN.  [With a little curtsey.] I hope to let you 
know very soon, Lord Caversham!

1 with my wife’s milliner — с модисткой моей жены (модистка — мастерица, изготавливающая шляпки)

AN IDEAL HUSBAND

MASON.  [Announcing guests.] Lady Markby. Mrs. Cheveley.

Enter LADY MARKBY and MRS. CHEVELEY. 
LADY MARKBY is a pleasant, kindly, popular woman, 
with gray hair à la marquise and good face. 
MRS. CHEVELEY, who accompanies her, is tall and rather slight.
Lips very thin and highly-coloured, a line of scarlet on a pallid face. 
Venetian red hair, aquiline nose, and long throat. 
Rouge accentuates the natural paleness of her complexion. 
Gray-green eyes that move restlessly. 
She is in heliotrope, with diamonds. 
She looks rather like an orchid, 
and makes great demands on one’s curiosity. 
In all her movements she is extremely graceful. 
A work of art, on the whole, but showing the influence 
of too many schools.

LADY MARKBY.  Good-evening, dear Gertrude! So kind 
of you to let me bring my friend, Mrs. Cheveley. Two 
such charming women should know each other!
LADY CHILTERN.  [Advances towards MRS. CHEVELEY with 
a sweet smile. Then suddenly stops, and bows rather distantly.] 
I think Mrs. Cheveley and I have met before. I did not 
know she had married a second time.
LADY MARKBY.  [Genially.] Ah, nowadays people marry as 
oft en as they can, don’t they? It is most fashionable. [To 
DUCHESS OF MARYBOROUGH.] Dear Duchess, and how 
is the Duke? Brain still weak, I suppose? Well, that is 
only to be expected, is it not? His good father was just 
the same. Th ere is nothing like race, is there?
MRS. CHEVELEY.  [Playing with her fan.] But have we really 
met before, Lady Chiltern? I can’t remember where. I 
have been out of England for so long.

OSCAR WILDE

LADY CHILTERN.  We were at school together, Mrs. 
Cheveley.
MRS. CHEVELEY.  [Superciliously.] Indeed? I have forgotten 
all about my schooldays. I have a vague impression that 
they were detestable.
LADY CHILTERN.  [Coldly.] I am not surprised!
MRS. CHEVELEY.  [In her sweetest manner.] Do you know, I am 
quite looking forward to meeting your clever husband, 
Lady Chiltern. Since he has been at the Foreign Offi  ce, 
he has been so much talked of in Vienna. Th ey actually 
succeed in spelling his name right in the newspapers. 
Th at in itself is fame, on the continent.
LADY CHILTERN.  I hardly think there will be much in 
common between you and my husband, Mrs. Cheveley! 
[Moves away.]
VICOMTE DE NANJAC.  Ah! chère Madame, quelle surprise1! I have not seen you since Berlin!
MRS. CHEVELEY.  Not since Berlin, Vicomte. Five years ago!
VICOMTE DE NANJAC.  And you are younger and more 
beautiful than ever. How do you manage it?
MRS. CHEVELEY.  By making it a rule only to talk to 
perfectly charming people like yourself.
VICOMTE DE NANJAC.  Ah! you fl atter me. You butter 
me, as they say here.
MRS. CHEVELEY.  Do they say that here? How dreadful 
of them!
VICOMTE DE NANJAC.  Yes, they have a wonderful language. It should be more widely known.

1 chère Madame, quelle surprise— (фр.) дорогая моя, какой 
(приятный) сюрприз