TRANTO. A baronetcy!
CULVER. His title and pistol will go rattling down the ages, my dear Tranto, from generation to generation. For the moment the fellow's name stinks, but only for the moment. In the nostrils of his grandson (third baronet), it will have a most sweet odour.
MRS. CULVER. But all this is perfectly shocking.
CULVER. Now I hope you comprehend my emotion, darling.
MRS. CULVER But surely there are some nice names on the List.
CULVER. Of course. There have to be some nice names, for the sake of the psychological effect on the public mind on New Year's Day. The public looks for a good name, or for a name it can understand. It skims down the List till it sees one. Then it says: 'Ah! That's not so bad!' Then it skims down further till it sees another one, and it says again: 'Ah! That's not so bad!' And so on. So that with about five or six decent names you can produce the illusion that after all the List is really rather good.
HILDEGARDE. The strange thing to me is that decent people condescend to receive titles at all.
MRS. CULVER. Bravo, Hildegarde! Yes, if it's so bad as you make out, Arthur, why do decent people take Honours?
CULVER. I'll tell you. Decent people have wives, and their wives lead them by the nose. That's why decent people take Honours.
MRS. CULVER. Well, I think it's monstrous!