Gwendolen on the Name Ernest
In a fashionable London drawing-room, the supremely self-assured Gwendolen Fairfax has cornered the man she knows as Ernest Worthing, who is about to propose. Before he can, she explains that her love was a foregone conclusion—because of his name. She wants him to know she adores him, chiefly because he is called Ernest.
For me you have always had an irresistible fascination.
Even before I met you I was far from indifferent to you.
We live, as I hope you know, Mr. Worthing, in an age of ideals.
The fact is constantly mentioned in the more expensive monthly magazines, and has reached the provincial pulpits, I am told; and my ideal has always been to love some one of the name of Ernest.
There is something in that name that inspires absolute confidence.
The moment Algernon first mentioned to me that he had a friend called Ernest, I knew I was destined to love you.
It suits you perfectly.
It is a divine name.
It has a music of its own.
It produces vibrations.
How to Play It
Gwendolen is delivering a settled fact, not a feeling. She wants to inform Ernest that loving him was inevitable—her certainty is the joke.
Play it with total sincerity and impeccable poise. The absurdity ('my ideal has always been to love some one of the name of Ernest') only sparkles if she never winks at it.
Savour the built-up rhythm of the finish—'It is a divine name. It has a music of its own. It produces vibrations.' Three tidy declarations, each more ridiculous, each said as gospel.
Want Will to Coach You Through It?
A monologue is a two-person scene where the other person never speaks. Working it 1-on-1 with a working actor is the fastest way to make it land.