lord caversham. What do you mean, sir?
lord goring. During the Season, father, I only talk seriously on the first Tuesday in every month, from four to seven.
lord caversham. Well, make it Tuesday, sir, make it Tuesday.
lord goring. But it is after seven, father, and my doctor says I must not have any serious conversation after seven. It makes me talk in my sleep.
lord caversham. Talk in your sleep, sir? What does that matter? You are not married.
lord goring. No, father, I am not married.
lord caversham. Hum! That is what I have come to talk to you about, sir. You have got to get married, and at once. Why, when I was your age, sir, I had been an inconsolable widower for three months, and was already paying my addresses to your admirable mother. Damme, sir, it is your duty to get married. You can’t be always living for pleasure. Every man of position is married nowadays. Bachelors are not fashionable any more. They are a damaged lot. Too much is known about them. You must get a wife, sir. Look where your friend Robert Chiltern has got to by probity, hard work, and a sensible marriage with a good woman. Why don’t you imitate him, sir? Why don’t you take him for your model?
lord goring. I think I shall, father.
lord caversham. I wish you would, sir. Then I should be happy. At present I make your mother’s life miserable on your account. You are heartless, sir, quite heartless.
lord goring. I hope not, father.