ints of view are, for the
dramatic moment, mine also. This may puzzle the people who believe that
there is such a thing as an absolutely right point of view, usually
their own. It may seem to them that nobody who doubts this can be in a
state of grace. However that may be, it is certainly true that nobody
who agrees with them can possibly be a dramatist, or indeed anything
else that turns upon a knowledge of mankind. Hence it has been pointed
out that Shakespear had no conscience. Neither have I, in that sense.

You may, however, remind me that this digression of mine into politics
was preceded by a very convincing demonstration that the artist never
catches the point of view of the common man on the question of sex,
because he is not in the same predicament. I first prove that anything I
write on the relation of the sexes is sure to be misleading; and then I
proceed to write a Don Juan play. Well, if you insist on asking me why
I behave in this absurd way, I can only reply that you asked me to,
and that in any case my treatment of the subject may be valid for the
artist, amusing to the amateur, and at least intelligible and therefore
possibly suggestive to the Philistine. Every man who records his
illusions is providing data for the genuinely scientific psychology
which the world still waits for. I plank down my view of the existing
relations of men to women in the most highly civilized society for what
it is worth. It is a view like any other view and no more, neither true
nor false, but, I hope, a way of looking at the subject which throws
into the familiar order of cause and effect a sufficient body of fact
and experience to be interesting to you, if not to the play-going public
of London. I have certainly shown little consideration for that public
in this enterprise; but I know that it has the friendliest disposition
towards you and me as far as it has any consciousness of our existence,
and quite understands that what I write for you must pass at a
considerable height over its simple romantic head. It will take my books
as read and my genius for granted, trusting me to put forth work of such
quality as shall bear out its verdict. So we may disport ourselves on
our own plane to the top of our bent; and if any gentleman points out
that neither this epistle dedicatory nor the dream of Don Juan in the
third act of the ensuing comedy is suitable for immediate production at
a popular theatre we need not contradict him. N