English
AweeklaterDorianGraywassittingintheconservatoryatSelbyRoyal,talkingtotheprettyDuchessofMonmouth,whowithherhusband,ajaded-lookingmanofsixty,wasamongsthisguests.
Itwastea-time,andthemellowlightofthehuge,lace-coveredlampthatstoodonthetablelitupthedelicatechinaandhammeredsilveroftheserviceatwhichtheduchesswaspresiding.
Herwhitehandsweremovingdaintilyamongthecups,andherfullredlipsweresmilingatsomethingthatDorianhadwhisperedtoher.
LordHenrywaslyingbackinasilk-drapedwickerchair,lookingatthem.
Onapeach-coloureddivansatLadyNarborough,pretendingtolistentotheduke’sdescriptionofthelastBrazilianbeetlethathehadaddedtohiscollection.
Threeyoungmeninelaboratesmoking-suitswerehandingtea-cakestosomeofthewomen.
Thehouse-partyconsistedoftwelvepeople,andthereweremoreexpectedtoarriveonthenextday.
“Whatareyoutwotalkingabout?”saidLordHenry,strollingovertothetableandputtinghiscupdown.
“IhopeDorianhastoldyouaboutmyplanforrechristeningeverything,Gladys.Itisadelightfulidea.”
“ButIdon’twanttoberechristened,Harry,”rejoinedtheduchess,lookingupathimwithherwonderfuleyes.
“Iamquitesatisfiedwithmyownname,andIamsureMr.Grayshouldbesatisfiedwithhis.”
“MydearGladys,Iwouldnotaltereithernamefortheworld.Theyarebothperfect.Iwasthinkingchieflyofflowers.
YesterdayIcutanorchid,formybutton-hole.
Itwasamarvellousspottedthing,aseffectiveasthesevendeadlysins.
InathoughtlessmomentIaskedoneofthegardenerswhatitwascalled.
HetoldmeitwasafinespecimenofRobinsoniana,orsomethingdreadfulofthatkind.
Itisasadtruth,butwehavelostthefacultyofgivinglovelynamestothings.Namesareeverything.Ineverquarrelwithactions.Myonequarreliswithwords.
ThatisthereasonIhatevulgarrealisminliterature.
Themanwhocouldcallaspadeaspadeshouldbecompelledtouseone.Itistheonlythingheisfitfor.”
“Thenwhatshouldwecallyou,Harry?”sheasked.
“HisnameisPrinceParadox,”saidDorian.
“Irecognizehiminaflash,”exclaimedtheduchess.
“Iwon’thearofit,”laughedLordHenry,sinkingintoachair.“Fromalabelthereisnoescape!Irefusethetitle.”
“Royaltiesmaynotabdicate,”fellasawarningfromprettylips.
“Youwishmetodefendmythrone,then?”
“Yes.”
“Igivethetruthsofto-morrow.”
“Ipreferthemistakesofto-day,”sheanswered.
“Youdisarmme,Gladys,”hecried,catchingthewilfulnessofhermood.
“Ofyourshield,Harry,notofyourspear.”
“Inevertiltagainstbeauty,”hesaid,withawaveofhishand.
“Thatisyourerror,Harry,believeme.Youvaluebeautyfartoomuch.”
“Howcanyousaythat?IadmitthatIthinkthatitisbettertobebeautifulthantobegood.
Butontheotherhand,nooneismorereadythanIamtoacknowledgethatitisbettertobegoodthantobeugly.”
“Uglinessisoneofthesevendeadlysins,then?”criedtheduchess.“Whatbecomesofyoursimileabouttheorchid?”
“Uglinessisoneofthesevendeadlyvirtues,Gladys.You,asagoodTory,mustnotunderratethem.Beer,theBible,andthesevendeadlyvirtueshavemadeourEnglandwhatsheis.”
“Youdon’tlikeyourcountry,then?”sheasked.
“Iliveinit.”
“Thatyoumaycensureitthebetter.”
“WouldyouhavemetaketheverdictofEuropeonit?”heinquired.
“Whatdotheysayofus?”
“ThatTartuffehasemigratedtoEnglandandopenedashop.”
“Isthatyours,Harry?”
“Igiveittoyou.”
“Icouldnotuseit.Itistootrue.”
“Youneednotbeafraid.Ourcountrymenneverrecognizeadescription.”
“Theyarepractical.”
“Theyaremorecunningthanpractical.Whentheymakeuptheirledger,theybalancestupiditybywealth,andvicebyhypocrisy.”
“Still,wehavedonegreatthings.”
“Greatthingshavebeenthrustonus,Gladys.”
“Wehavecarriedtheirburden.”
“OnlyasfarastheStockExchange.”
Sheshookherhead.“Ibelieveintherace,”shecried.
“Itrepresentsthesurvivalofthepushing.”
“Ithasdevelopment.”
“Decayfascinatesmemore.”
“Whatofart?”sheasked.
“Itisamalady.”
“Love?”
“Anillusion.”
“Religion?”
“Thefashionablesubstituteforbelief.”
“Youareasceptic.”
“Never!Scepticismisthebeginningoffaith.”
“Whatareyou?”
“Todefineistolimit.”
“Givemeaclue.”
“Threadssnap.Youwouldloseyourwayinthelabyrinth.”
“Youbewilderme.Letustalkofsomeoneelse.”
“Ourhostisadelightfultopic.YearsagohewaschristenedPrinceCharming.”
“Ah!don’tremindmeofthat,”criedDorianGray.
“Ourhostisratherhorridthisevening,”answeredtheduchess,colouring.
“IbelievehethinksthatMonmouthmarriedmeonpurelyscientificprinciplesasthebestspecimenhecouldfindofamodernbutterfly.”
“Well,Ihopehewon’tstickpinsintoyou,Duchess,”laughedDorian.
“Oh!mymaiddoesthatalready,Mr.Gray,whensheisannoyedwithme.”
“Andwhatdoesshegetannoyedwithyouabout,Duchess?”
“Forthemosttrivialthings,Mr.Gray,Iassureyou.UsuallybecauseIcomeinattenminutestonineandtellherthatImustbedressedbyhalf-pasteight.”
“Howunreasonableofher!Youshouldgiveherwarning.”
“Idaren’t,Mr.Gray.Why,sheinventshatsforme.
YouremembertheoneIworeatLadyHilstone’sgarden-party?
Youdon’t,butitisniceofyoutopretendthatyoudo.Well,shemadeifoutofnothing.Allgoodhatsaremadeoutofnothing.”
“Likeallgoodreputations,Gladys,”interruptedLordHenry.“Everyeffectthatoneproducesgivesoneanenemy.Tobepopularonemustbeamediocrity.”
“Notwithwomen,”saidtheduchess,shakingherhead;“andwomenruletheworld.
Iassureyouwecan’tbearmediocrities.
Wewomen,assomeonesays,lovewithourears,justasyoumenlovewithyoureyes,ifyoueverloveatall.”
“Itseemstomethatweneverdoanythingelse,”murmuredDorian.
“Ah!then,youneverreallylove,Mr.Gray,”answeredtheduchesswithmocksadness.
“MydearGladys!”criedLordHenry.“Howcanyousaythat?
Romancelivesbyrepetition,andrepetitionconvertsanappetiteintoanart.
Besides,eachtimethatonelovesistheonlytimeonehaseverloved.
Differenceofobjectdoesnotaltersinglenessofpassion.Itmerelyintensifiesit.
Wecanhaveinlifebutonegreatexperienceatbest,andthesecretoflifeistoreproducethatexperienceasoftenaspossible.”
“Evenwhenonehasbeenwoundedbyit,Harry?”askedtheduchessafterapause.
“Especiallywhenonehasbeenwoundedbyit,”answeredLordHenry.
TheduchessturnedandlookedatDorianGraywithacuriousexpressioninhereyes.“Whatdoyousaytothat,Mr.Gray?”sheinquired.
Dorianhesitatedforamoment.Thenhethrewhisheadbackandlaughed.“IalwaysagreewithHarry,Duchess.”
“Evenwhenheiswrong?”
“Harryisneverwrong,Duchess.”
“Anddoeshisphilosophymakeyouhappy?”
“Ihaveneversearchedforhappiness.Whowantshappiness?Ihavesearchedforpleasure.”
“Andfoundit,Mr.Gray?”
“Often.Toooften.”
Theduchesssighed.“Iamsearchingforpeace,”shesaid,“andifIdon’tgoanddress,Ishallhavenonethisevening.”
“Letmegetyousomeorchids,Duchess,”criedDorian,startingtohisfeetandwalkingdowntheconservatory.
“Youareflirtingdisgracefullywithhim,”saidLordHenrytohiscousin.“Youhadbettertakecare.Heisveryfascinating.”
“Ifhewerenot,therewouldbenobattle.”
“GreekmeetsGreek,then?”
“IamonthesideoftheTrojans.Theyfoughtforawoman.”
“Theyweredefeated.”
“Thereareworsethingsthancapture,”sheanswered.
“Yougallopwithalooserein.”
“Pacegiveslife,”wastheriposte.
“Ishallwriteitinmydiaryto-night.”
“What?”
“Thataburntchildlovesthefire.”
“Iamnotevensinged.Mywingsareuntouched.”
“Youusethemforeverything,exceptflight.”
“Couragehaspassedfrommentowomen.Itisanewexperienceforus.”
“Youhavearival.”
“Who?”
Helaughed.“LadyNarborough,”hewhispered.“Sheperfectlyadoreshim.”
“Youfillmewithapprehension.Theappealtoantiquityisfataltouswhoareromanticists.”
“Romanticists!Youhaveallthemethodsofscience.”
“Menhaveeducatedus.”
“Butnotexplainedyou.”
“Describeusasasex,”washerchallenge.
“Sphinxeswithoutsecrets.”
Shelookedathim,smiling.“HowlongMr.Grayis!”shesaid.“Letusgoandhelphim.Ihavenotyettoldhimthecolourofmyfrock.”
“Ah!youmustsuityourfrocktohisflowers,Gladys.”
“Thatwouldbeaprematuresurrender.”
“Romanticartbeginswithitsclimax.”
“Imustkeepanopportunityforretreat.”
“IntheParthianmanner?”
“Theyfoundsafetyinthedesert.Icouldnotdothat.”
“Womenarenotalwaysallowedachoice,”heanswered,buthardlyhadhefinishedthesentencebeforefromthefarendoftheconservatorycameastifledgroan,followedbythedullsoundofaheavyfall.Everybodystartedup.Theduchessstoodmotionlessinhorror.
Andwithfearinhiseyes,LordHenryrushedthroughtheflappingpalmstofindDorianGraylyingfacedownwardsonthetiledfloorinadeathlikeswoon.
Hewascarriedatonceintothebluedrawing-roomandlaidupononeofthesofas.Afterashorttime,hecametohimselfandlookedroundwithadazedexpression.
“Whathashappened?”heasked.“Oh!Iremember.AmIsafehere,Harry?”Hebegantotremble.
“MydearDorian,”answeredLordHenry,“youmerelyfainted.Thatwasall.Youmusthaveovertiredyourself.Youhadbetternotcomedowntodinner.Iwilltakeyourplace.”
“No,Iwillcomedown,”hesaid,strugglingtohisfeet.“Iwouldrathercomedown.Imustnotbealone.”
Hewenttohisroomanddressed.Therewasawildrecklessnessofgaietyinhismannerashesatattable,butnowandthenathrillofterrorranthroughhimwhenherememberedthat,pressedagainstthewindowoftheconservatory,likeawhitehandkerchief,hehadseenthefaceofJamesVanewatchinghim.
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