The Importance of Being Earnest: A Trivial Comedy for Serious People - 5

Cecily.  What a noble nature you have, Gwendolen!
Jack.  Then the question had better be cleared up at once.  Aunt Augusta, a moment.  At the time when Miss Prism left me in the hand-bag, had I been christened already?
Lady Bracknell.  Every luxury that money could buy, including christening, had been lavished on you by your fond and doting parents.
Jack.  Then I was christened!  That is settled.  Now, what name was I given?  Let me know the worst.
Lady Bracknell.  Being the eldest son you were naturally christened after your father.
Jack.  [Irritably.]  Yes, but what was my father’s Christian name?
Lady Bracknell.  [Meditatively.]  I cannot at the present moment recall what the General’s Christian name was.  But I have no doubt he had one.  He was eccentric, I admit.  But only in later years.  And that was the result of the Indian climate, and marriage, and indigestion, and other things of that kind.
Jack.  Algy!  Can’t you recollect what our father’s Christian name was?
Algernon.  My dear boy, we were never even on speaking terms.  He died before I was a year old.
Jack.  His name would appear in the Army Lists of the period, I suppose, Aunt Augusta?
Lady Bracknell.  The General was essentially a man of peace, except in his domestic life.  But I have no doubt his name would appear in any military directory.
Jack.  The Army Lists of the last forty years are here.  These delightful records should have been my constant study.  [Rushes to bookcase and tears the books out.]  M. Generals . . . Mallam, Maxbohm, Magley, what ghastly names they have—Markby, Migsby, Mobbs, Moncrieff!  Lieutenant 1840, Captain, Lieutenant-Colonel, Colonel, General 1869, Christian names, Ernest John.  [Puts book very quietly down and speaks quite calmly.]  I always told you, Gwendolen, my name was Ernest, didn’t I?  Well, it is Ernest after all.  I mean it naturally is Ernest.
Lady Bracknell.  Yes, I remember now that the General was called Ernest, I knew I had some particular reason for disliking the name.
Gwendolen.  Ernest!  My own Ernest!  I felt from the first that you could have no other name!
Jack.  Gwendolen, it is a terrible thing for a man to find out suddenly that all his life he has been speaking nothing but the truth.  Can you forgive me?
Gwendolen.  I can.  For I feel that you are sure to change.
Jack.  My own one!
Chasuble.  [To Miss Prism.]  Lætitia!  [Embraces her]
Miss Prism.  [Enthusiastically.]  Frederick!  At last!
Algernon.  Cecily!  [Embraces her.]  At last!
Jack.  Gwendolen!  [Embraces her.]  At last!
Lady Bracknell.  My nephew, you seem to be displaying signs of triviality.
Jack.  On the contrary, Aunt Augusta, I’ve now realised for the first time in my life the vital Importance of Being Earnest.
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