Lady Bracknell: [In a severe, judicial voice.] Prism! [Miss Prism bows her head in shame.] Come here, Prism! [Miss Prism approaches in a humble manner.] Prism! Where is that baby? [General consternation. The Canon starts back in horror. Algernon and Jack pretend to be anxious to shield Cecily and Gwendolen from hearing the details of a terrible public scandal.] Twenty-eight years ago, Prism, you left Lord Bracknell’s house, Number 104, Upper Grosvenor Street, in charge of a perambulator that contained a baby of the male sex. You never returned. A few weeks later, through the elaborate investigations of the Metropolitan police, the perambulator was discovered at midnight, standing by itself in a remote corner of Bayswater. It contained the manuscript of a three-volume novel of more than usually revolting sentimentality. [Miss Prism starts in involuntary indignation.] But the baby was not there! [Every one looks at Miss Prism.] Prism! Where is that baby? [A pause.]
Miss Prism: Lady Bracknell, I admit with shame that I do not know. I only wish I did. The plain facts of the case are these. On the morning of the day you mention, a day that is for ever branded on my memory, I prepared as usual to take the baby out in its perambulator. I had also with me a somewhat old, but capacious hand-bag in which I had intended to place the manuscript of a work of fiction that I had written during my few unoccupied hours. In a moment of mental abstraction, for which I never can forgive myself, I deposited the manuscript in the basinette, and placed the baby in the hand-bag.
Jack: [Who has been listening attentively.] But where did you deposit the hand-bag?
Miss Prism: Do not ask me, Mr. Worthing.
Jack: Miss Prism, this is a matter of no small importance to me. I insist on knowing where you deposited the hand-bag that contained that infant.
Miss Prism: I left it in the cloak-room of one of the larger railway stations in London.
Jack: What railway station?
Miss Prism: [Quite crushed.] Victoria. The Brighton line. [Sinks into a chair.]
Jack: I must retire to my room for a moment. Gwendolen, wait here for me.
Gwendolen: If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life. [Exit Jack in great excitement.]
Chasuble: What do you think this means, Lady Bracknell?
Lady Bracknell: I dare not even suspect, Dr. Chasuble. I need hardly tell you that in families of high position strange coincidences are not supposed to occur. They are hardly considered the thing.
[Noises heard overhead as if some one was throwing trunks about. Every one looks up.]
Cecily: Uncle Jack seems strangely agitated.
Chasuble: Your guardian has a very emotional nature.
Lady Bracknell: This noise is extremely unpleasant. It sounds as if he was having an argument. I dislike arguments of any kind. They are always vulgar, and often convincing.
Chasuble: [Looking up.] It has stopped now. [The noise is redoubled.]
Lady Bracknell: I wish he would arrive at some conclusion.
Gwendolen: This suspense is terrible. I hope it will last.