CHASUBLE.
Dear Mr. Worthing, I trust this garb of woe does not betoken some terrible calamity?
JACK.
My brother.
MISS PRISM.
More shameful debts and extravagance?
CHASUBLE.
Still leading his life of pleasure?
JACK.
[Shaking his head.] Dead!
CHASUBLE.
Your brother Ernest dead?
JACK.
Quite dead.
MISS PRISM.
What a lesson for him! I trust he will profit by it.
CHASUBLE.
Mr. Worthing, I offer you my sincere condolence. You have at least the consolation of knowing that you were always the most generous and forgiving of brothers.
JACK.
Poor Ernest! He had many faults, but it is a sad, sad blow.