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The criminal proceedings for libel which Oscar Fingall O'Flahertie Wilde has set in motion against John Sholto Douglas, Marquis of Queensberry, commenced on Wednesday at the Old Bailey. Public interest in the case is enormous. Long before the hour appointed for the opening of the court doors their vicinity is thick with humanity, and five minutes after they have been thrown open the court is crammed to suffocation. So it was on Wednesday and Thursday. When the court opened on Wednesday the marquis lost no time in stepping into the dock. The indictment was gabbled over to him and he pleaded "Not guilty," that the libel was true, and that it was for the public benefit that it was printed. Sir Edward Clark opened the case. He told how the marquis had left a card with the hall porter of the Albemarle Club addressed "To Oscar Wilde;" whereon were words gross and libellous. The accusation against Mr. Wilde was one of the gravest that could be made, but the plea put before the court raised a much graver issue. There was no accusation in the plea that Mr. Wilde had been guilty of a criminal offence, but there were given a number of names of persons whom he was accused of inciting to commit such offences, and with whom he was charged with improper conduct. Having said so much, Sir Edward sketched Oscar's career for the benefit of those who knew not Oscar prior to the æsthetic craze period. And then he came to speak of the circumstances under which the various parties in the present action became acquainted, and dwelt upon transactions connected with certain letters and other incidents about which Mr. Wilde spoke freely in his examination later on. One of these letters addressed by Oscar to young Douglas was read by Sir Edward. It ran thus: —

My own dear boy — Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for music of song than for madness of kissing. Your slim-gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things, and come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place. It only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love, yours, OSCAR.

A review of the meetings between the marquis and Oscar concluded a long and able opening.

After the Albemarle porter had proved the marquis's call, &, came the real beginning of the case. Oscar, cool as a cucumber, and fatter than ever, glided gracefully into the box. Sir Edward Clarke having examined him as to his relations with the Douglas family, and as to the attempts of Woods and others to blackmail him on the strength of certain letters found in the pockets of Lord Alfred Douglas's cast-off clothing, and having obtained his denial to the insinuation of the marquis that he was kicked out of the Savoy Hotel on account of disgusting conduct, gave Oscar up to the tender mercies of Carson, Q.C. The learned counsel commenced to cross-examine Oscar somewhat minutely as to his literary output, but more especially in regard to certain poetic contributions to a fin de siècle magazine called The Chameleon. Carson, Q.C., suggested that these contributions would convey improper suggestions, but Oscar said "No." He considered them exceedingly beautiful poems. Regarding a very warm story entitled "The Priest and the Acolyte," which most people attributed to Oscar, the æsthete denied the authorship. He thought it was badly written, but would not call it immoral or blasphemous. As Oscar had already stated that in his opinion there is no such thing as an immoral book, the point of Carson's examination at this juncture was not apparent. But he kept to Oscar's literature, and presently "Dorian Grey" was dragged in. Oscar repudiated the suggestion that Dorian's sin was "unnatural vice," and remarked that the book could only be called vicious when misinterpreted by the vulgar and the illiterate. Oscar said he did not write for the "ordinary individual," which brought from Carson, Q.C., the remark that the novelist did not mind the ordinary individual buying his books. "I have never discouraged him," quoth Oscar loftily. Asked if he had ever experienced the sentiments of the painter Basil, and whether he thought them natural, Oscar made answer, "I should think it perfectly natural to intensely adore and love a younger man. It is an incident in the life of almost every artist." Carson, Q.C., wanted to know if Oscar had himself adored madly a man twenty years his junior? He said he had loved one - not madly, but just loved one. Adoration was a thing he reserved to himself. He had, however, never been jealous; jealousy was, he thought, an intense nuisance. Then Mr. Carson came to the novelist's letter to young Douglas. The one quoted, Mr. Carson suggested, was an improper letter to write to a young man, but Oscar could not see eye to eye with his tormentor. The letter was a "prose-poem," "beautiful," "unique," but not as the Q.C. read it. "You read it very badly, Mr. Carson," said Oscar blandly; "you are not an artist." "I do not profess to be an artist, Mr. Wilde, and sometimes when I hear your evidence I am glad I am not one," responded the lawyer gravely. He then read another of Oscar's "prose-poems," which ran thus: —

Dearest of all boys, your letter was delightful. Red and yellow wine to me. But I am out of sorts. You must not make scenes with me. They kill me. They wreck the loveliness of life. I cannot see you so Greek and gracious, distorted by passion. I cannot listen to your curved lips saying hideous things to me. You break my heart. I must see you soon. You are the divine thing. I want a thing of grace and genius, but I do not know how to do it. Shall I come to Salisbury? There are many difficulties; my bill here (at Goring) is £49 for the week. I have got a new sitting-room, over the Thames. But, you, why are you not here, my dear, my beautiful boy? I fear I must leave. No money, no credit, and a heart of lead. -Ever your own, OSCAR.

"An extraordinary letter," commented Oscar softly. "Everything I write is extraordinary. I do not pose as being ordinary." Mr. Carson then reverted to the episode of the letters upon which a man named Cleburn attempted to blackmail Mr. Wilde, and touched upon the plaintiff's relations with two young men, named Wood and Taylor. Oscar denied improper conduct with these men, but admitted having "dined and wined" them in private rooms at the Café Florence, and to having given Wood various sums of money amounting to over £30 "out of pure kindness." He admitted also that, though believing Wood to be levying blackmail, he privileged him to use his Christian name. But he explained that everybody called him "Oscar." Passing on to another case Mr. Carson questioned the plaintiff as to his friendship for Edward Shelley, sometime an assistant in Messrs. Elkin Lane's office. Oscar repudiated all sinister suggestions in connection with this youth. Shelley had an intellectual face and literary ambitions, so Oscar dined him at the Albemarle Hotel in a private room, and gave him autograph copies of "Dorian Gray" and other Wilde works. Then Oscar's intimacy with a youth named Alphonso Conway was enquired into. Alphonso was a "pleasant creature" whose "simple conversation" attracted Wilde so much that he gave him a silver cigarette case, an inscribed photograph, an autograph volume, a silver-mounted walking-cane, a blue serge suit, and a straw hat, and finally took him for a trip to Brighton. All this Oscar did out of kindness, and not with any idea of subverting the lad's morals.

On Thursday Mr. Carson continued his crusade, and Oscar was called upon to answer an exhaustive series of questions as to his "friendship" for other young men. He admitted that he took to Paris a boy named Atkins, and shared a suite of rooms, all communicating, with the lad. But he denied any impropriety, and waxed very indignant when Mr. Carson made the "monstrous suggestion" that he had "plied Atkins with wine." The case of Ernest Scarth was next on the board. Scarth was, said Oscar, "a pleasant, nice, good fellow," who had been kind to Lord Douglas of Hawick during a voyage from Australia, so he dined the young man. Oscar indignantly denied that he kissed Scarth or had acted improperly with the young fellow. Similarly he denied that he had committed any impropriety with one Sydney Maror, who stayed with him all night at the Albermarle, and to whom he gave a four-guinea cigarette case. He did these things simply for the sake of conversing with "a very charming, nice fellow." Now came a little scene. Oscar was questioned as to his relations with a lad named Granger, who was Lord Alfred Douglas's servant at Oxford. "Have you ever kissed this boy?" demanded Carson, Q.C., abruptly. Oscar replied airily, "Oh, no! certainly not. A peculiarly plain boy." The counsel pounced on this expression instantly, asked if it was only because the boy was ugly that he was not kissed. Oscar for the first time hesitated before answering, and then replied evasively, "No; because it seems such an intense insult on your part. It seems ridiculous to imagine that any such thing could have occurred." "Then why mention his ugliness?" demanded the Q.C. sternly. "I should not like to kiss a boy," replied Oscar, adding hotly, "Am I to be cross-examined as to the reasons I should not like to kiss a boy?" "Well, why mention his ugliness?" reiterated Carson, Q.C., blandly. "Because," exclaimed Oscar shrilly, "you sting me with insolent questions; you try to unnerve me in every way, and make me say things flippantly that I would not say seriously." Carson, Q.C., agreed to take the "ugliness" as a flippant answer, but smiled meaningly at the jury. At 12.30 the cross-examination concluded, and Sir Edward Clarke rose to re-examine. He read several pathetic letters from Lord Queensberry to young Douglas, which it is not necessary to dwell upon. Certainly they tended to show that the marquis deemed his son's close friendship with Wilde a horrible thing, which should be smashed no matter the cost. The re-examination proper enabled Oscar to deny the defendant's statement that Mrs. Wilde was seeking divorce, but Sir Edward did not take his client over the ground covered by Mr. Carson again. The jury having asked a few questions relative to the publication of the Chameleon the case for the prosecution was closed.

Mr. Carson then rose to address the jury on the more serious side of the justification of the alleged libel. He said that Lord Queensberry withdrew nothing that he had said or written, having done everything with premeditation and a determination at all risks and hazards to try and save his son. His conduct has been absolutely consistent throughout. From beginning to end Lord Queensberry had been influenced with regard to Mr. Oscar Wilde by the one hope alone of saving his son. What had been Mr. Wilde's own case? That up to a certain date he had met Lord Queensberry, who had been on terms of friendship with him. Lord Queensberry had heard of Mr. Wilde's character, and of these scandals at the Savoy Hotel, which would be proved before them. Mr. Wilde had been going about with young men who were not his equals either in position or education. He thought it would be proved that some of these men were known as some of the most immoral characters in London, and he specially referred to Taylor, who was the right man to assist Wilde in all these orgies. Had they been able to cross-examine Taylor they would have learned what went on. Taylor was the pivot of the case, for the simple reason that when they heard the witnesses examined — and he would be unfortunately compelled to examine them on the immoral practices of Mr. Oscar Wilde — it would be found that Taylor was the man who introduced them to Wilde. When Mr. Wilde wanted to show that someone was present he mentioned a gentleman who could not be called because he was out of the country; but Taylor was in the country and could have been called. They were told that the friendship of Wilde and Taylor had not been interrupted. With regard to the books, they were being continually told by Mr. Wilde that they were by an artist for artists, but there was the greatest contrast between his books, which were for the select and not for the ordinary individual, and the way he chose his friends. He took up with Charlie Parker, a gentleman's servant, whose brother is a gentleman's servant; with young Conway, whose brother sold papers on the pier at Worthing; and with Scarfe, also a gentleman's servant. Then his excuse was no longer that he was dwelling in regions of art, but that he had such a noble, such a democratic soul, that he drew no social distinctions, and that it was quite as much pleasure to have the sweeping boy from the streets to lunch or dine with him as the greatest literateur or artist. Mr. Carson considered the positions absolutely irreconcilable. He thought if they had rested the case alone upon Mr. Wilde's literature they would have been absolutely justified in the course which Lord Queensberry had taken. Lord Queensberry undertook to prove that Mr. Wilde was posing as guilty of certain vices. Mr. Wilde never complained of the immorality of the story of "The Priest and the Acolyte." He knew no distinction, in fact, between a moral and an immoral book. Nor did he care whether the article was in its very terms blasphemous. All that Mr. Wilde said was that he did not approve of the story from a literary point of view. What was that story? It was the story of the love of a priest for the acolyte who attended him at Mass. Exactly the same idea that ran through the two letters to Lord A. Douglas ran through that story and through "Dorian Gray." Unable to persuade the rector as Mr. Wilde had been unable to persuade the public of the beauty of this love the priest and the acolyte resolved to die together upon the altar. The priest administered poison and they died together on the altar in an embrace after the priest had used the sacred words and forms of the Christian faith. When asked if that was not blasphemy Mr. Wilde said that he did not think it was. The same idea ran through those two letters which Mr. Wilde called beautiful, but which he called disgusting. Moreover, there was in this same Chameleon a poem which showed some justification for the frightful anticipations which Lord Queensberry entertained for his son. The poem was written by Lord Alfred Douglas, and was seen by Mr. Wilde before its publication. Was it not a terrible thing that a young man on the threshold of life, who had been for several years dominated by Oscar Wilde, and who had been "adored and loved" by Oscar Wilde, as the two letters proved, should thus show the tendency of his mind upon this frightful subject? What would be the horror of any man whose son wrote such a poem?

This (Friday) morning the case came to an abrupt but perhaps not unexpected ending. Mr. Carson was continuing his rigorous denunciation of Wilde and his works (Oscar was not in court) when Sir Edward Clarke touched his arm and whispered in his ear. Mr. Carson sat down, and Sir Edward, rising, said he was prepared to accept a verdict of "not guilty" on behalf of his client. The judge put two things to the jury, viz., that the justification set up by the Marquis of Queensberry was true in substance and in fact, and that the Marquis's statement was published in such a manner as to be for the public benefit. Amid loud applause the jury intimated that they considered both these things to be fact, and a few minutes later the court was empty.

The Importance of Being Early was never better [...] than at the Old Bailey this morning, when long before 10 o’clock every seat where a pressman could sit had at least a couple of competitors for it and the body of the court was grey with the [...] of the [...] ones come to [...] the prosecution of John Sholto [...] Marquis of Queensberry, for [...] Oscar Fingal O’Flahertie Wilde.

[...] miserable hovel, known [...] as the Old Court have not been [...] demonstrated since the Neill- [...] drew everyone to the Old Bailey. The building seems to have been constructed upon the principle of affording space where it is not wanted, and the roomiest place of all is the dock, where 10 people could sit in comfort.

The counsel in the case formed quite a numerous body. Sir Edward Clarke, Q. C., Mr. Charles Mathews and Mr. Humphreys for the prosecution, Mr. E. H. Carson, Q. C., C. F. Gill, and A. Gill for the defence; Mr. Besley, Q. C., and Mr. Monckton watching the case on behalf of Lord Douglas of Hawick, the eldest son of his defendant.

OSCAR ENTERS.

Soon after 10 o’clock the tall figure of Oscar Fingal O’Flahertie Wilde was to be seen squeezing its way through the thronged court towards the solicitors’ table. He wore a long Melton cloth overcoat and a colonial-shaped top-hat, but did not sport the white flower which he affected at the police-court proceedings.

After an interval that seemed like a day the three knocks were heard that herald the approach of the judge, and Mr. Justice Collins entered and took his seat.

The Marquis of Queensberry at once stepped into the dock, had the indictment road to him, and pleaded Not guilty, that the libel was true, and that it was for the public benefit that it was printed.

THE CASE OPENED.

Sir Edward Clarke at once rose and began the case. He told how the Marquis called at the Albemarle Club and left a card "To Oscar Wilde," which contained words that were gross and libellous. The accusation against Mr. Wilde was one of the gravest that could be made. But the card was not the only matter with which they would have to deal. By the plea put before the Court a much graver issue was raised. There was no accusation in the plea that Mr. Oscar Wilde had been guilty of a criminal offence, but there were given the names of a number of persons whom he was accused of inciting to commit such offences and with whom he was charged with improper conduct. Sir Edward could understand that, for if such witnesses were called and cross-examined no doubt they would be compelled to admit much, but probably they would not be prepared to admit that they themselves had committed such offences as were the subject of the present inquiry. Then, briefly, Sir Edward sketched Oscar Wilde’s career, his parentage, his career at Trinity College, Dublin, and Magdalen, at Oxford, where he obtained the Newdigate, and his subsequent literary and artistic career. He became a public character "laughed at by some, appreciated by many, but representing a particular phase of an artistic movement." He married the daughter of Horace Lloyd, Q. C., and had spent a happy, domestic life. At his house in Tite-street he first made the acquaintance of Lord Alfred Douglas, of whom he ever since had been the friend, and not only his friend but the friend of his brother and of his mother, Lady Queensberry, who was the wife of the defendant until she obtained release owing to the defendant’s misconduct.

AN INCIDENT AT THE CAFE ROYAL.

In November, 1892, Mr. Wilde and Lord Alfred Douglas were lunching at the Café Royal, when Lord Queensberry came in. He was introduced to Mr. Wilde, and recalled to him that they had met some 10 years before. They chatted, discussed a probable visit to Torquay, and parted. From that time Mr. Wilde saw nothing more of Lord Queensberry until 1894, but during that time he became aware that statements were made affecting his character. There was a man named Wood, who had been given some clothes by Lord Alfred Douglas, who alleged that in the pockets he found some letters of Mr. Oscar Wilde to Lord Alfred. Early in 1893 Wood came to Mr. Wilde with these letters, and represented that he was in trouble, and wished to go to America. Mr. Wilde gave him £15 or £20 for the letters, mere ordinary letters, of no importance. Then the time changed to during the run of Oscar’s first stage success. Mr. Beerbohm Tree handed Mr. Wilde what purported to be a copy of a letter of Mr Wilde’s. Soon afterwards a man named Allen called and offered to tell him the original. Mr. Wilde refused. He said, "I look upon that letter as a work of art. I should have desired to possess a copy, but as I have that I have no desire to possess the original." He gave Allen a sovereign for his trouble, and Allen was so gratified that he sent the original to Mr. Wilde. Mr. Wilde told Allen that he looked upon the letter as a "prose sonnet," and should probably publish it.

A PROSE SONNET.

Presently Sir Edward read the letter. Here it is:

"MY OWN BOY,

"Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red-roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim-built soul walks between passion and poetry. No Hyacinthus followed Love so madly as you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things. Come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place and only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love.—YOURS, OSCAR."

After the sensation of the letter the story came back to the more dull, prosaic fact that Mr. Wilde became aware that Lord Queensberry was writing letters about him that were not exactly prose sonnets, but which made imputations against him of a serious character, in 1894 matters came to a head in an interview at which Mr Wilde forbade Lord Queensberry his house. Next Sir Edward briefly sketched the circumstances surrounding the first sight of "The Importance of Being Earnest," the appearance of Lord Queensberry with his bouquet of vegetables, and his ejectment from the theatre after an unsuccessful attempt to escalade the gallery. Cleverly, Sir Edward made a point of the laughter which followed. He could not complain of it, he said, whether Lord Queensberry was entirely responsible for his action was a point they would have seriously to consider before the end of the case.

THE DAY OF THE LIBEL.

The story was now brought up to the fateful day of the libel, the last day of February this year, when Oscar called at the Albemarle and found the card, which had been lying there since the 18th. In the last stages of a splendid opening speech Sir Edward made a slip of the tongue in saying Rosebery for Queensberry, and almost fiercely rebuked the laugh which followed. "I feel some resentment," he said, "at the action taken of a slip unworthy of notice."

In a few sentences Sir Edward dealt with the pleadings ; he would say nothing about the names mentioned therein, but there were two clauses dealing with the publication of "Dorian Gray" and the "Chameleon," the presence of which he was unable to explain. He could only suppose that the defence, fearing their case might break down, had dragged those publications in to have something to cling to in case their witnesses failed them. So far as the "Chameleon" was concerned Mr. Wilde was responsible only for his own contribution. In that magazine there was a story—"The Priest and the Acolyte"—which was a disgrace to literature, which it was extraordinary anyone could write, which it was more extraordinary anyone could publish, a story which Mr. Wilde condemned as bad literature, and induced the editor to withdraw so soon as he saw it. Then with a wonderful beauty of expression and felicity of language Sir Edward sketched the strange story of Dorian Gray, while the Court listened enthralled with the weird, imaginative force of the picture.

It deals with the story of a young man, of good birth, with great wealth and much personal beauty, whose friend, a distinguished painter, paints a portrait of him. He expresses the strange wish that as life goes on he might be allowed to possess the undiminished beauty of his youth, while the picture should age and fade. The strange wish is granted, his conduct in life leaves its record on the picture not on himself. He plunges into dissipation and crime, and the portrait, which is locked up from every eye but his own, grows more hideous till he can stand it no longer, but takes a knife and strikes at the picture. He instantly falls dead himself, and those who come into the room find the picture again amazingly beautiful, and on the door a hideous and unrecognisable body of an old man.

"I have read the book," concluded Sir Edward, "and I defy the defence within those covers to find anything more than a writer must write if he wishes to portray such a story."

OSCAR IN THE BOX.

As in the former proceedings, the hall porter of the Albemarle was the first witness. He was shown the card with the words written on the back. He identified it as the one left by Lord Queensberry for Mr. Wilde. He put it in an envelope and wrote Mr. Wilde’s name and the date.

This witness was not cross-examined, and at once Mr. Wilde was called and examined by Sir Edward Clarke.

He said he was 39 years of age, and was briefly taken through his Dublin and Oxford career. He took his degree in 1873, came down at once, and has since then devoted himself to Art and Literature. He published poems, and lectured in England and America. Lately he had devoted himself to dramatic literature, has produced four plays, and has another, "Salome," in which Sarah Bernhardt is to appear in Paris. He was taken all over the ground covered by Sir Edward’s opening, the only additional fact being that the two sons of his marriage are aged nine and 10.

THE PEER IN THE DOCK.

Lord Queensberry, who disdained a seat, stood in front of the dock with his arms folded, occasionally changing his attitude to make a note of something that occurred to him. While Oscar was in the box the peer looked implacably across the court to where the poet, with his hyacinthine locks and air of easy abandon, almost lolled in the witness-box.

OSCAR’S EVIDENCE.

The story followed closely on the lines of the opening, but the incident of Wood and the letter was elaborated. Wood said, "I suppose you think very badly of me." He replied "I hear you have letters of mine, you should certainly have given them back to me." Wood then took out three or four letters, said they had been stolen from him and had cost him money to get back. Witness replied he did not think the letters of any value at all. Wood then said he did not want to stay in London, he wanted to go to America as he was being threatened, and after some conversation, and a very strong appeal by Wood, the witness advanced him £15 to go the New York.

The examination passed on to the visit of Allen. He knew Allen at once by description, and said, "I suppose you have come about my beautiful letter to Lord Alfred Douglas. If you had not been so foolish as to send a copy of it to Mr. Beerbohm Tree I would gladly have paid you a very large sum of money for the letter as I consider it to be a work of art.

He said : "A very curious construction could be put upon that letter."

Witness replied, "Ah! were it not for a criminal process."

The conversation proceeded.

Allen : A man has offered £60 for it.

Wilde : If you take my advice you will go and sell it. I myself have never received so large a sum for so small a piece of prose, but I am glad to find that someone considers a letter of mine worth £60.

Allen : The man is out of town.

Wilde : But he is sure to come back. As far as I am concerned I can assure you that I will not pay one penny for the letter.

Mr. Wilde then refused to discuss the matter further, whereupon Allen said he was poor, and begged. Witness gave him half a sovereign and he went away.

One additional thing he told Allen. He said :

"This letter is a prose poem and will shortly be published in sonnet form in a delightful magazine. I will send you a copy."

AN ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT.

About six minutes after Allen went a man named Clyburn came, brought the letter and said Allen had asked him to give it back to him, saying it was "no good try to ‘rent’ him, he only laughed."

He took the letter back, and, seeing its condition, said, "It is a great pity better care is not taken of an original manuscript of mine."

He then said to Clyburn, "I am afraid you are leading a very wicked life."

He replied, "There was good and bad in every one of us," and Oscar rejoined, "It is more than possible."

The letter had been in his possession ever since, and he produced it to-day. After these epigrammatic conversations between Mr. Wilde and the casual callers at Tite-street the resumption of the main story fell rather flat. It was after the return of Lord Alfred Douglas from Cairo, Mr. Wilde said, that he became aware that Lord Queensberry was making injurious suggestions about him.

AN INTERVIEW WITH THE MARQUIS.

Later on in June he had an interview with Lord Queensberry and a Mr. "Pip" at 16, Tite-street. The interview took place in the library.

Lord Queensberry said, "Sit down."

Mr. Wilde said, "I don’t allow you to talk to me like that. I suppose you have come to apologise for the statement you made about myself and my wife in a letter you wrote to your son. I could have you up for criminal libel for writing such a letter."

Queensberry replied, "That letter was privileged."

"How dare you say such things about your son and me?" asked Oscar.

"You were both kicked out of the Savoy for your scandalous conduct," said Queensberry.

"That is a lie," replied Oscar.

Lord Queensberry then said : "I hear you were thoroughly well blackmailed last year for a disgusting letter you wrote to my son."

"The letter was a beautiful letter,' replied Oscar, "and I never write unless for publication."

After some further conversation between the Marquis and witness, Queensberry said :

"If ever I catch you with my son again I will thrash you."

"I do not know what the Queensberry rules are," retorted Oscar, "but the Oscar Wilde rule is to shoot out right."

He then ordered Lord Queensberry out of the house, and threatened him with the police.

Lord Queensberry repeated the charge, saying the scandal was all over London.

"If it were so," witness replied, "Lord Queensbery was himself the author of the scandal." The letters he had written were infamous, and he was merely trying to ruin his son through him. He added, "You have got to go. I won’t have in my house a brute like you." He pointed out Lord Queensberry to his servant and said "This is the Marquis of Queensberry, the most infamous brute in London, never allow him to enter my house again, should he attempt to come in, send for the police."

Lord Queensberry then left with violent language.

It was absolutely untrue that he, with or without Lord Alfred Douglas, was ever required to leave the Savoy Hotel.

(Proceeding.)