An Ideal Husband

The morning paper, m'Lord.

Ah Sir Robert Chiltern a rising star in Parliament...

tonight hosts a party that promises to be the highlight of the social calendar...

Er, with his wife Lady Gertrude...

who is herself a leading figure in women's prlitics.

Together...

this couple represents what is best in the English public life...

and is a noble contrast to the lax morality...

Er, so common amongst foreign politicians.

Dear oh dear...

they will never say that about me, will they

I sincerely hope not, sir.

Bit of a busy day today, I'm afraid.

Distressingly little time for sloth or idleness.

Sorry to hear it, sir.

Well, not entirely your fault, Phipps.

Not this time.

Thank you, m'Lord.

Good morning, to Tommy.

Morning, Lady Chilterm.

I very much look forward to this evening.

Miss Mabel...

Tommy.

I hope you'll be able to make our usual appointment...

as I have something particular I wish to say to you.

Good day, ladies.

When Tommy wants to be romantic he talks to one just like a doctor.

Till tonight.

Miss Mabel.

Lord Goring.

Lord Goring!

Countess-good morning.

Aren't you going to congratulate me, Lord Goring?

Congratulations.

Aren't you going to ask what for?

I have made a great decision. I've decided to get married.

My God! Who to?

That part-is still to be decided.

Good morning, dear To Gertrude.

Good morning, Lady Markby.

Allow me to introduce my friend, Mrs. Cheveley.

Two such charming women should know each other.

How do you do?

I think Mrs. Cheveley and I have met before.

of course.

Gertrude.

And to think you married Sir Robert Chiltern.

Do you know, I was so hoping to meet your clever husband.

Really?

Yes. But I have to return to Vienna on Friday.

Oh dear, what a shame.

Well, perhaps I might bring her this evening?

Yes, by all means.

What can I say?

I'd be delighted.

Well we'll see you tonight.

See you tonight.

You see, Phipps, fashion is what one wears oneself.

What is unfashionable...

is what other people wear.

Yes, my Lord.

Other people are quite dreadful.

The only possible society is oneself.

Er, yes, my Lord.

To love oneself...

is the beginning of a lifelong romance.

Yes, my Lord.

Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Berwick.

Lord Windermere.

Countess Basildon.

...and it is widely agreed, the last truly decent man in London...such...

and that you're a very personable man possessed of a most attractive personality...

and that you have brought into British politics an honesty, an integrity...

a finer, a...

a nobler atmosphere a finer attitude and higher ideals... higher ideals.

Well, one mustn't believe everything one reads in the newspapers.

Yes, in the old days we had the rack. Nowadays we have the press.

Your own newspaper being the notable exception, of course, Sir Edward...

where truth shines out like a beacon...

and lies run vainly for the shadows.

Bravo, Lady Chiltern.

But may I ask, do I detect in your conversation a lyricism...

not entirely uncommon in your husband's excellent speeches?

If you are suggesting Sir Edward...

that my position in society owes anything to my wife, you are utterly mistaken.

It owes everything to my wife.

I demand that you make it known

immediately without her, it's true, I am entirely unexceptional.

Without her love...

I'm nothing.

Anyway, all I know is, Chiltern, a serious shake-up in the Government looks inevitable now...

and I have to tell you the Prime Minster himself was asking about you this morning.

Really?

Probably afraid you'd be taking his job.

Lady Markby.

Mrs. Cheveley.

Oh, my dear if I had a jewel for every staring eye...

I'm glad to say, Lady Markby, you evidently do.

Excuse me.

Ah, chere Madame quelle surprise!

Lady Markby.

I have not seen you since Berlin.

Not since Berlin, Vicomte, five years ago.

And you are younger and more beautiful than ever.

How do you manage it?

By making it a rule only to talk to charming people like yourself.

Mrs. Cheveley.

What do we know about her?

Very influential in Vienna In the highest circles.

A force to be reckoned with.

And are you staying in London long?

That depends partly on the weather...

partly on the cooking...

and partly on your brother.

My dear... Sir Robert has been dying to meet you.

Everyone is dying to meet the brilliant Mrs. Cheveley.

Our Attaches in Vienna write to us about nothing else.

Thank you, Sir Robert.

An acquaintance that begins with a compliment is sure to develop into a real friendship.

I see you've met my sister.

Yes indeed.

My dear child allow me to introduce you to the Vicomte De Nanjac.

You have a beautiful house, Sir Robert.

We're very happy here.

I am sure. I would so love to look around.

Allow me.

Thank you.

Lord Goring.

Good evening, Lady Rosebury.

Good evening, young lady.

Well, sir, what are you doing here?

Wasting your life as usual.

You should be in bed, sir. You keep too late hours.

I heard of you the other night at Lady Rufford's dancing till four o'clock.

Er, good evening, father.

Can't make out how you stand London society.

Lot of damn nobodies talking about nothing.

I love talking about nothing, father. It's the only thing I know anything about.

That is a paradox, sir. I hate paradoxes.

So do I, father.

Everyone one meets is a paradox nowadays.

Makes society so... obvious, hmm?

Do you always understand what you say, sir?

Yes. If I listen attentively.

Oh, conceited young puppy!

And I have it on very good authority that you have some delightful Corots as well.

Oh, really whose?

Baron Arnheim.

Did you know the Baron well?

Intimately. Did you?

At one time.

Wonderful man, wasn't he?

He was very remarkable in many ways.

I often think it a pity he never wrote his memoirs. They would have been interesting.

Allow me to introduce my dearest friend. The idlest man in London.

Good evening, Lord Goring.

You've met?

I did not think you'd remember me, Mrs. Er Cheveley.

My memory is under admirable control.

Sir Robert, the Indian Ambassador.

Excuse me!

And so, my dear Arthur...

are you not just a little bit pleased to see me?

Oh, my dear woman... possibly even less than that.

should you wish to avoid me entirely...

it is well to know that I'll be staying at Claridges Hotel until Friday

when I shall return to Vienna.

Are you still a bachelor?

Resolutely so.

Lord Goring is the result of Boodle's Club, Mrs. Cheveley.

He reflects every credit on the institution.

Thank you.

And now, Sir Robert, I have something to say to you.

You'll find me an eager audience.

I'm so glad.

I want to talk to you about a great political and financial scheme...

about this Argentine Company, in fact.

What a tedious, practical subject to talk about, Mrs. Cheveley.

Oh, I like tedious, practical subjects. What I don't like are practical people.

Besides, you're interested. I know, in international canal schemes.

Yes.

But the Suez Canal was a very great and splendid undertaking.

It gave us our direct route into India.

This Argentine scheme is a commonplace Stock Exchange swindle.

It is a speculation, Sir Robert, a brilliant, daring speculation.

Believe me, Mrs. Cheveley, it is a swindle.

Let us call things by their proper names. It makes matters simpler.

I hope you've not invested in it.

I'm sure you're far too clever to have done that.

I have invested very largely in it.

Who could have advised you to do such a foolish thing?

Your old friend and mine.

Who?

Baron Arnheim.

It was one of the last things he said.

The future of the canal depends, of course, on the attitude of Her Majesty's Government.

And...

I will personally be presenting my report...

to the House of Commons on Thursday night.

I can tell you now that I will be condemning the scheme in