English
“Isupposeyouhaveheardthenews,Basil?”saidLordHenrythateveningasHallwardwasshownintoalittleprivateroomattheBristolwheredinnerhadbeenlaidforthree.
“No,Harry,”answeredtheartist,givinghishatandcoattothebowingwaiter.“Whatisit?Nothingaboutpolitics,Ihope!Theydon’tinterestme.
ThereishardlyasinglepersonintheHouseofCommonsworthpainting,thoughmanyofthemwouldbethebetterforalittlewhitewashing.”
“DorianGrayisengagedtobemarried,”saidLordHenry,watchinghimashespoke.
Hallwardstartedandthenfrowned.“Dorianengagedtobemarried!”hecried.“Impossible!”
“Itisperfectlytrue.”
“Towhom?”
“Tosomelittleactressorother.”
“Ican’tbelieveit.Dorianisfartoosensible.”
“Dorianisfartoowisenottodofoolishthingsnowandthen,mydearBasil.”
“Marriageishardlyathingthatonecandonowandthen,Harry.”
“ExceptinAmerica,”rejoinedLordHenrylanguidly.“ButIdidn’tsayhewasmarried.Isaidhewasengagedtobemarried.Thereisagreatdifference.
Ihaveadistinctremembranceofbeingmarried,butIhavenorecollectionatallofbeingengaged.
IaminclinedtothinkthatIneverwasengaged.”
“ButthinkofDorian’sbirth,andposition,andwealth.Itwouldbeabsurdforhimtomarrysomuchbeneathhim.”
“Ifyouwanttomakehimmarrythisgirl,tellhimthat,Basil.Heissuretodoit,then.Wheneveramandoesathoroughlystupidthing,itisalwaysfromthenoblestmotives.”
“Ihopethegirlisgood,Harry.Idon’twanttoseeDoriantiedtosomevilecreature,whomightdegradehisnatureandruinhisintellect.”
“Oh,sheisbetterthangood—sheisbeautiful,”murmuredLordHenry,sippingaglassofvermouthandorange-bitters.
“Doriansayssheisbeautiful,andheisnotoftenwrongaboutthingsofthatkind.
Yourportraitofhimhasquickenedhisappreciationofthepersonalappearanceofotherpeople.
Ithashadthatexcellenteffect,amongstothers.
Wearetoseeherto-night,ifthatboydoesn’tforgethisappointment.”
“Areyouserious?”
“Quiteserious,Basil.IshouldbemiserableifIthoughtIshouldeverbemoreseriousthanIamatthepresentmoment.”
“Butdoyouapproveofit,Harry?”askedthepainter,walkingupanddowntheroomandbitinghislip.“Youcan’tapproveofit,possibly.Itissomesillyinfatuation.”
“Ineverapprove,ordisapprove,ofanythingnow.
Itisanabsurdattitudetotaketowardslife.
Wearenotsentintotheworldtoairourmoralprejudices.
Inevertakeanynoticeofwhatcommonpeoplesay,andIneverinterferewithwhatcharmingpeopledo.
Ifapersonalityfascinatesme,whatevermodeofexpressionthatpersonalityselectsisabsolutelydelightfultome.
DorianGrayfallsinlovewithabeautifulgirlwhoactsJuliet,andproposestomarryher.Whynot?
IfheweddedMessalina,hewouldbenonethelessinteresting.
YouknowIamnotachampionofmarriage.
Therealdrawbacktomarriageisthatitmakesoneunselfish.Andunselfishpeoplearecolourless.Theylackindividuality.
Still,therearecertaintemperamentsthatmarriagemakesmorecomplex.
Theyretaintheiregotism,andaddtoitmanyotheregos.
Theyareforcedtohavemorethanonelife.
Theybecomemorehighlyorganized,andtobehighlyorganizedis,Ishouldfancy,theobjectofman’sexistence.
Besides,everyexperienceisofvalue,andwhateveronemaysayagainstmarriage,itiscertainlyanexperience.
IhopethatDorianGraywillmakethisgirlhiswife,passionatelyadoreherforsixmonths,andthensuddenlybecomefascinatedbysomeoneelse.Hewouldbeawonderfulstudy.”
“Youdon’tmeanasinglewordofallthat,Harry;youknowyoudon’t.IfDorianGray’slifewerespoiled,noonewouldbesorrierthanyourself.Youaremuchbetterthanyoupretendtobe.”
LordHenrylaughed.“Thereasonweallliketothinksowellofothersisthatweareallafraidforourselves.Thebasisofoptimismissheerterror.
Wethinkthatwearegenerousbecausewecreditourneighbourwiththepossessionofthosevirtuesthatarelikelytobeabenefittous.
Wepraisethebankerthatwemayoverdrawouraccount,andfindgoodqualitiesinthehighwaymaninthehopethathemayspareourpockets.ImeaneverythingthatIhavesaid.
Ihavethegreatestcontemptforoptimism.
Asforaspoiledlife,nolifeisspoiledbutonewhosegrowthisarrested.
Ifyouwanttomaranature,youhavemerelytoreformit.
Asformarriage,ofcoursethatwouldbesilly,butthereareotherandmoreinterestingbondsbetweenmenandwomen.Iwillcertainlyencouragethem.
Theyhavethecharmofbeingfashionable.ButhereisDorianhimself.HewilltellyoumorethanIcan.”
“MydearHarry,mydearBasil,youmustbothcongratulateme!”
saidthelad,throwingoffhiseveningcapewithitssatin-linedwingsandshakingeachofhisfriendsbythehandinturn.“Ihaveneverbeensohappy.
Ofcourse,itissudden—allreallydelightfulthingsare.
AndyetitseemstometobetheonethingIhavebeenlookingforallmylife.”
Hewasflushedwithexcitementandpleasure,andlookedextraordinarilyhandsome.
“Ihopeyouwillalwaysbeveryhappy,Dorian,”saidHallward,“butIdon’tquiteforgiveyoufornothavingletmeknowofyourengagement.YouletHarryknow.”
“AndIdon’tforgiveyouforbeinglatefordinner,”brokeinLordHenry,puttinghishandonthelad’sshoulderandsmilingashespoke.
“Come,letussitdownandtrywhatthenewchefhereislike,andthenyouwilltellushowitallcameabout.”
“Thereisreallynotmuchtotell,”criedDorianastheytooktheirseatsatthesmallroundtable.“Whathappenedwassimplythis.
AfterIleftyouyesterdayevening,Harry,Idressed,hadsomedinneratthatlittleItalianrestaurantinRupertStreetyouintroducedmeto,andwentdownateighto’clocktothetheatre.SibylwasplayingRosalind.
Ofcourse,thescenerywasdreadfulandtheOrlandoabsurd.ButSibyl!Youshouldhaveseenher!
Whenshecameoninherboy’sclothes,shewasperfectlywonderful.
Sheworeamoss-colouredvelvetjerkinwithcinnamonsleeves,slim,brown,cross-garteredhose,adaintylittlegreencapwithahawk’sfeathercaughtinajewel,andahoodedcloaklinedwithdullred.
Shehadneverseemedtomemoreexquisite.
ShehadallthedelicategraceofthatTanagrafigurinethatyouhaveinyourstudio,Basil.
Herhairclusteredroundherfacelikedarkleavesroundapalerose.
Asforheracting—well,youshallseeherto-night.Sheissimplyabornartist.
Isatinthedingyboxabsolutelyenthralled.
IforgotthatIwasinLondonandinthenineteenthcentury.
Iwasawaywithmyloveinaforestthatnomanhadeverseen.
Aftertheperformancewasover,Iwentbehindandspoketoher.
Asweweresittingtogether,suddenlytherecameintohereyesalookthatIhadneverseentherebefore.Mylipsmovedtowardshers.Wekissedeachother.
Ican’tdescribetoyouwhatIfeltatthatmoment.
Itseemedtomethatallmylifehadbeennarrowedtooneperfectpointofrose-colouredjoy.
Shetrembledalloverandshooklikeawhitenarcissus.
Thensheflungherselfonherkneesandkissedmyhands.
IfeelthatIshouldnottellyouallthis,butIcan’thelpit.
Ofcourse,ourengagementisadeadsecret.Shehasnoteventoldherownmother.
Idon’tknowwhatmyguardianswillsay.LordRadleyissuretobefurious.Idon’tcare.
Ishallbeofageinlessthanayear,andthenIcandowhatIlike.
Ihavebeenright,Basil,haven’tI,totakemyloveoutofpoetryandtofindmywifeinShakespeare’splays?
LipsthatShakespearetaughttospeakhavewhisperedtheirsecretinmyear.
IhavehadthearmsofRosalindaroundme,andkissedJulietonthemouth.”
“Yes,Dorian,Isupposeyouwereright,”saidHallwardslowly.
“Haveyouseenherto-day?”askedLordHenry.
DorianGrayshookhishead.“IleftherintheforestofArden;IshallfindherinanorchardinVerona.”
LordHenrysippedhischampagneinameditativemanner.“Atwhatparticularpointdidyoumentionthewordmarriage,Dorian?Andwhatdidshesayinanswer?Perhapsyouforgotallaboutit.”
“MydearHarry,Ididnottreatitasabusinesstransaction,andIdidnotmakeanyformalproposal.
ItoldherthatIlovedher,andshesaidshewasnotworthytobemywife.Notworthy!
Why,thewholeworldisnothingtomecomparedwithher.”
“Womenarewonderfullypractical,”murmuredLordHenry,“muchmorepracticalthanweare.Insituationsofthatkindweoftenforgettosayanythingaboutmarriage,andtheyalwaysremindus.”
Hallwardlaidhishanduponhisarm.“Don’t,Harry.YouhaveannoyedDorian.Heisnotlikeothermen.Hewouldneverbringmiseryuponanyone.Hisnatureistoofineforthat.”
LordHenrylookedacrossthetable.“Dorianisneverannoyedwithme,”heanswered.
“Iaskedthequestionforthebestreasonpossible,fortheonlyreason,indeed,thatexcusesoneforaskinganyquestion—simplecuriosity.
Ihaveatheorythatitisalwaysthewomenwhoproposetous,andnotwewhoproposetothewomen.
Except,ofcourse,inmiddle-classlife.
Butthenthemiddleclassesarenotmodern.”
DorianGraylaughed,andtossedhishead.
“Youarequiteincorrigible,Harry;butIdon’tmind.Itisimpossibletobeangrywithyou.
WhenyouseeSibylVane,youwillfeelthatthemanwhocouldwrongherwouldbeabeast,abeastwithoutaheart.
Icannotunderstandhowanyonecanwishtoshamethethingheloves.IloveSibylVane.
Iwanttoplaceheronapedestalofgoldandtoseetheworldworshipthewomanwhoismine.Whatismarriage?Anirrevocablevow.Youmockatitforthat.Ah!don’tmock.
ItisanirrevocablevowthatIwanttotake.
Hertrustmakesmefaithful,herbeliefmakesmegood.
WhenIamwithher,Iregretallthatyouhavetaughtme.
Ibecomedifferentfromwhatyouhaveknownmetobe.
Iamchanged,andthemeretouchofSibylVane’shandmakesmeforgetyouandallyourwrong,fascinating,poisonous,delightfultheories.”
“Andthoseare...?”askedLordHenry,helpinghimselftosomesalad.
“Oh,yourtheoriesaboutlife,yourtheoriesaboutlove,yourtheoriesaboutpleasure.Allyourtheories,infact,Harry.”
“Pleasureistheonlythingworthhavingatheoryabout,”heansweredinhisslowmelodiousvoice.
“ButIamafraidIcannotclaimmytheoryasmyown.ItbelongstoNature,nottome.
PleasureisNature’stest,hersignofapproval.
Whenwearehappy,wearealwaysgood,butwhenwearegood,wearenotalwayshappy.”
“Ah!butwhatdoyoumeanbygood?”criedBasilHallward.
“Yes,”echoedDorian,leaningbackinhischairandlookingatLordHenryovertheheavyclustersofpurple-lippedirisesthatstoodinthecentreofthetable,“whatdoyoumeanbygood,Harry?”
“Tobegoodistobeinharmonywithone’sself,”hereplied,touchingthethinstemofhisglasswithhispale,fine-pointedfingers.
“Discordistobeforcedtobeinharmonywithothers.
One’sownlife—thatistheimportantthing.
Asforthelivesofone’sneighbours,ifonewishestobeaprigoraPuritan,onecanflauntone’smoralviewsaboutthem,buttheyarenotone’sconcern.
Besides,individualismhasreallythehigheraim.
Modernmoralityconsistsinacceptingthestandardofone’sage.
Iconsiderthatforanymanofculturetoacceptthestandardofhisageisaformofthegrossestimmorality.”
“But,surely,ifonelivesmerelyforone’sself,Harry,onepaysaterriblepricefordoingso?”suggestedthepainter.
“Yes,weareoverchargedforeverythingnowadays.
Ishouldfancythattherealtragedyofthepooristhattheycanaffordnothingbutself-denial.
Beautifulsins,likebeautifulthings,aretheprivilegeoftherich.”
“Onehastopayinotherwaysbutmoney.”
“Whatsortofways,Basil?”
“Oh!Ishouldfancyinremorse,insuffering,in...well,intheconsciousnessofdegradation.”
LordHenryshruggedhisshoulders.“Mydearfellow,mediaevalartischarming,butmediaevalemotionsareoutofdate.Onecanusetheminfiction,ofcourse.
Butthentheonlythingsthatonecanuseinfictionarethethingsthatonehasceasedtouseinfact.
Believeme,nocivilizedmaneverregretsapleasure,andnouncivilizedmaneverknowswhatapleasureis.”
“Iknowwhatpleasureis,”criedDorianGray.“Itistoadoresomeone.”
“Thatiscertainlybetterthanbeingadored,”heanswered,toyingwithsomefruits.“Beingadoredisanuisance.
Womentreatusjustashumanitytreatsitsgods.
Theyworshipus,andarealwaysbotheringustodosomethingforthem.”
“Ishouldhavesaidthatwhatevertheyaskfortheyhadfirstgiventous,”murmuredtheladgravely.“Theycreateloveinournatures.Theyhavearighttodemanditback.”
“Thatisquitetrue,Dorian,”criedHallward.
“Nothingiseverquitetrue,”saidLordHenry.
“Thisis,”interruptedDorian.“Youmustadmit,Harry,thatwomengivetomentheverygoldoftheirlives.”
“Possibly,”hesighed,“buttheyinvariablywantitbackinsuchverysmallchange.Thatistheworry.
Women,assomewittyFrenchmanonceputit,inspireuswiththedesiretodomasterpiecesandalwayspreventusfromcarryingthemout.”
“Harry,youaredreadful!Idon’tknowwhyIlikeyousomuch.”
“Youwillalwayslikeme,Dorian,”hereplied.
“Willyouhavesomecoffee,youfellows?
Waiter,bringcoffee,andfine-champagne,andsomecigarettes.
No,don’tmindthecigarettes—Ihavesome.
Basil,Ican’tallowyoutosmokecigars.Youmusthaveacigarette.
Acigaretteistheperfecttypeofaperfectpleasure.
Itisexquisite,anditleavesoneunsatisfied.Whatmorecanonewant?
Yes,Dorian,youwillalwaysbefondofme.
Irepresenttoyouallthesinsyouhaveneverhadthecouragetocommit.”
“Whatnonsenseyoutalk,Harry!”criedthelad,takingalightfromafire-breathingsilverdragonthatthewaiterhadplacedonthetable.“Letusgodowntothetheatre.
WhenSibylcomesonthestageyouwillhaveanewidealoflife.
Shewillrepresentsomethingtoyouthatyouhaveneverknown.”
“Ihaveknowneverything,”saidLordHenry,withatiredlookinhiseyes,“butIamalwaysreadyforanewemotion.
Iamafraid,however,that,formeatanyrate,thereisnosuchthing.
Still,yourwonderfulgirlmaythrillme.Iloveacting.Itissomuchmorerealthanlife.Letusgo.Dorian,youwillcomewithme.
Iamsosorry,Basil,butthereisonlyroomfortwointhebrougham.Youmustfollowusinahansom.”
Theygotupandputontheircoats,sippingtheircoffeestanding.Thepainterwassilentandpreoccupied.Therewasagloomoverhim.
Hecouldnotbearthismarriage,andyetitseemedtohimtobebetterthanmanyotherthingsthatmighthavehappened.
Afterafewminutes,theyallpasseddownstairs.
Hedroveoffbyhimself,ashadbeenarranged,andwatchedtheflashinglightsofthelittlebroughaminfrontofhim.Astrangesenseoflosscameoverhim.
HefeltthatDorianGraywouldneveragainbetohimallthathehadbeeninthepast.
Lifehadcomebetweenthem....Hiseyesdarkened,andthecrowdedflaringstreetsbecameblurredtohiseyes.
Whenthecabdrewupatthetheatre,itseemedtohimthathehadgrownyearsolder.
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