首页 >出版文学> THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY>第7章
  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。
  ThePictureofDorianGray:Chapter18Chapter18Thenextdayhedidnotleavethehouse,and,indeed,spentmostofthetimeinhisownroom,sickwithawildterrorofdying,andyetindifferenttolifeitself。Theconsciousnessofbeinghunted,snared,trackeddown,hadbeguntodominatehim。Ifthetapestrydidbuttrembleinthewind,heshook。Thedeadleavesthatwereblownagainsttheleadedpanesseemedtohimlikehisownwastedresolutionsandwildregrets。Whenheclosedhiseyes,hesawagainthesailor’sfacepeeringthroughthemist-stainedglass,andhorrorseemedoncemoretolayitshanduponhisheart。
  Butperhapsithadbeenonlyhisfancythathadcalledvengeanceoutofthenightandsetthehideousshapesofpunishmentbeforehim。Actuallifewaschaos,buttherewassomethingterriblylogicalintheimagination。
  Itwastheimaginationthatsetremorsetodogthefeetofsin。Itwastheimaginationthatmadeeachcrimebearitsmisshapenbrood。Inthecommonworldoffactthewickedwerenotpunished,northegoodrewarded。Successwasgiventothestrong,failurethrustupontheweak。Thatwasall。Besides,hadanystrangerbeenprowlingroundthehouse,hewouldhavebeenseenbytheservantsorthekeepers。Hadanyfoot-marksbeenfoundontheflower-beds,thegardenerswouldhavereportedit。Yes,ithadbeenmerelyfancy。SibylVane’sbrotherhadnotcomebacktokillhim。Hehadsailedawayinhisshiptofounderinsomewintersea。Fromhim,atanyrate,hewassafe。
  Why,themandidnotknowwhohewas,couldnotknowwhohewas。Themaskofyouthhadsavedhim。
  Andyetifithadbeenmerelyanillusion,howterribleitwastothinkthatconsciencecouldraisesuchfearfulphantoms,andgivethemvisibleform,andmakethemmovebeforeone!Whatsortoflifewouldhisbeif,dayandnight,shadowsofhiscrimeweretopeerathimfromsilentcorners,tomockhimfromsecretplaces,towhisperinhisearashesatatthefeast,towakehimwithicyfingersashelayasleep!Asthethoughtcreptthroughhisbrain,hegrewpalewithterror,andtheairseemedtohimtohavebecomesuddenlycolder。Oh!inwhatawildhourofmadnesshehadkilledhisfriend!Howghastlythemerememoryofthescene!Hesawitallagain。Eachhideousdetailcamebacktohimwithaddedhorror。
  Outoftheblackcaveoftime,terribleandswathedinscarlet,rosetheimageofhissin。WhenLordHenrycameinatsixo’clock,hefoundhimcryingasonewhoseheartwillbreak。
  Itwasnottillthethirddaythatheventuredtogoout。Therewassomethingintheclear,pine-scentedairofthatwintermorningthatseemedtobringhimbackhisjoyousnessandhisardourforlife。Butitwasnotmerelythephysicalconditionsofenvironmentthathadcausedthechange。Hisownnaturehadrevoltedagainsttheexcessofanguishthathadsoughttomaimandmartheperfectionofitscalm。Withsubtleandfinelywroughttemperamentsitisalwaysso。Theirstrongpassionsmusteitherbruiseorbend。Theyeitherslaytheman,orthemselvesdie。Shallowsorrowsandshallowlovesliveon。Thelovesandsorrowsthataregreataredestroyedbytheirownplenitude。Besides,hehadconvincedhimselfthathehadbeenthevictimofaterror-strickenimagination,andlookedbacknowonhisfearswithsomethingofpityandnotalittleofcontempt。
  Afterbreakfast,hewalkedwiththeduchessforanhourinthegardenandthendroveacrosstheparktojointheshooting-party。Thecrispfrostlaylikesaltuponthegrass。Theskywasaninvertedcupofbluemetal。Athinfilmoficeborderedtheflat,reed-grownlake。
  Atthecornerofthepine-woodhecaughtsightofSirGeoffreyClouston,theduchess’sbrother,jerkingtwospentcartridgesoutofhisgun。Hejumpedfromthecart,andhavingtoldthegroomtotakethemarehome,madehiswaytowardshisguestthroughthewitheredbrackenandroughundergrowth。
  Haveyouhadgoodsport,Geoffrey?heasked。
  Notverygood,Dorian。Ithinkmostofthebirdshavegonetotheopen。Idaresayitwillbebetterafterlunch,whenwegettonewground。
  Dorianstrolledalongbyhisside。Thekeenaromaticair,thebrownandredlightsthatglimmeredinthewood,thehoarsecriesofthebeatersringingoutfromtimetotime,andthesharpsnapsofthegunsthatfollowed,fascinatedhimandfilledhimwithasenseofdelightfulfreedom。Hewasdominatedbythecarelessnessofhappiness,bythehighindifferenceofjoy。
  Suddenlyfromalumpytussockofoldgrasssometwentyyardsinfrontofthem,withblack-tippedearserectandlonghinderlimbsthrowingitforward,startedahare。Itboltedforathicketofalders。SirGeoffreyputhisguntohisshoulder,buttherewassomethingintheanimal’sgraceofmovementthatstrangelycharmedDorianGray,andhecriedoutatonce,Don’tshootit,Geoffrey。Letitlive。
  Whatnonsense,Dorian!laughedhiscompanion,andasthehareboundedintothethicket,hefired。Thereweretwocriesheard,thecryofahareinpain,whichisdreadful,thecryofamaninagony,whichisworse。
  Goodheavens!Ihavehitabeater!exclaimedSirGeoffrey。Whatanassthemanwastogetinfrontoftheguns!Stopshootingthere!hecalledoutatthetopofhisvoice。Amanishurt。
  Thehead-keepercamerunningupwithastickinhishand。
  Where,sir?Whereishe?heshouted。Atthesametime,thefiringceasedalongtheline。
  Here,answeredSirGeoffreyangrily,hurryingtowardsthethicket。
  Whyonearthdon’tyoukeepyourmenback?Spoiledmyshootingfortheday。
  Dorianwatchedthemastheyplungedintothealder-clump,brushingthelitheswingingbranchesaside。Inafewmomentstheyemerged,draggingabodyafterthemintothesunlight。Heturnedawayinhorror。Itseemedtohimthatmisfortunefollowedwhereverhewent。HeheardSirGeoffreyaskifthemanwasreallydead,andtheaffirmativeanswerofthekeeper。
  Thewoodseemedtohimtohavebecomesuddenlyalivewithfaces。Therewasthetramplingofmyriadfeetandthelowbuzzofvoices。Agreatcopper-breastedpheasantcamebeatingthroughtheboughsoverhead。
  Afterafewmoments——thatweretohim,inhisperturbedstate,likeendlesshoursofpain——hefeltahandlaidonhisshoulder。Hestartedandlookedround。
  Dorian,saidLordHenry,Ihadbettertellthemthattheshootingisstoppedforto-day。Itwouldnotlookwelltogoon。
  Iwishitwerestoppedforever,Harry,heansweredbitterly。
  Thewholethingishideousandcruel。Istheman……?
  Hecouldnotfinishthesentence。
  Iamafraidso,rejoinedLordHenry。Hegotthewholechargeofshotinhischest。Hemusthavediedalmostinstantaneously。Come。letusgohome。
  Theywalkedsidebysideinthedirectionoftheavenuefornearlyfiftyyardswithoutspeaking。ThenDorianlookedatLordHenryandsaid,withaheavysigh,Itisabadomen,Harry,averybadomen。
  Whatis?askedLordHenry。Oh!thisaccident,Isuppose。Mydearfellow,itcan’tbehelped。Itwastheman’sownfault。Whydidhegetinfrontoftheguns?Besides,itisnothingtous。ItisratherawkwardforGeoffrey,ofcourse。Itdoesnotdotopepperbeaters。Itmakespeoplethinkthatoneisawildshot。AndGeoffreyisnot。heshootsverystraight。
  Butthereisnousetalkingaboutthematter。
  Dorianshookhishead。Itisabadomen,Harry。Ifeelasifsomethinghorribleweregoingtohappentosomeofus。Tomyself,perhaps,
  headded,passinghishandoverhiseyes,withagestureofpain。
  Theeldermanlaughed。Theonlyhorriblethingintheworldisennui,Dorian。Thatistheonesinforwhichthereisnoforgiveness。
  Butwearenotlikelytosufferfromitunlessthesefellowskeepchatteringaboutthisthingatdinner。Imusttellthemthatthesubjectistobetabooed。Asforomens,thereisnosuchthingasanomen。Destinydoesnotsendusheralds。Sheistoowiseortoocruelforthat。Besides,whatonearthcouldhappentoyou,Dorian?Youhaveeverythingintheworldthatamancanwant。Thereisnoonewhowouldnotbedelightedtochangeplaceswithyou。
  ThereisnoonewithwhomIwouldnotchangeplaces,Harry。Don’tlaughlikethat。Iamtellingyouthetruth。ThewretchedpeasantwhohasjustdiedisbetteroffthanIam。Ihavenoterrorofdeath。Itisthecomingofdeaththatterrifiesme。Itsmonstrouswingsseemtowheelintheleadenairaroundme。Goodheavens!don’tyouseeamanmovingbehindthetreesthere,watchingme,waitingforme?
  LordHenrylookedinthedirectioninwhichthetremblingglovedhandwaspointing。Yes,hesaid,smiling,Iseethegardenerwaitingforyou。Isupposehewantstoaskyouwhatflowersyouwishtohaveonthetableto-night。Howabsurdlynervousyouare,mydearfellow!Youmustcomeandseemydoctor,whenwegetbacktotown。
  Dorianheavedasighofreliefashesawthegardenerapproaching。
  Themantouchedhishat,glancedforamomentatLordHenryinahesitatingmanner,andthenproducedaletter,whichhehandedtohismaster。HerGracetoldmetowaitforananswer,hemurmured。
  Dorianputtheletterintohispocket。TellherGracethatI
  amcomingin,hesaid,coldly。Themanturnedroundandwentrapidlyinthedirectionofthehouse。
  Howfondwomenareofdoingdangerousthings!laughedLordHenry。
  ItisoneofthequalitiesinthemthatIadmiremost。Awomanwillflirtwithanybodyintheworldaslongasotherpeoplearelookingon。
  Howfondyouareofsayingdangerousthings,Harry!Inthepresentinstance,youarequiteastray。Iliketheduchessverymuch,butIdon’tloveher。
  Andtheduchesslovesyouverymuch,butshelikesyouless,soyouareexcellentlymatched。
  Youaretalkingscandal,Harry,andthereisneveranybasisforscandal。
  Thebasisofeveryscandalisanimmoralcertainty,saidLordHenry,lightingacigarette。
  Youwouldsacrificeanybody,Harry,forthesakeofanepigram。
  Theworldgoestothealtarofitsownaccord,wastheanswer。
  IwishIcouldlove,criedDorianGraywithadeepnoteofpathosinhisvoice。ButIseemtohavelostthepassionandforgottenthedesire。
  Iamtoomuchconcentratedonmyself。Myownpersonalityhasbecomeaburdentome。Iwanttoescape,togoaway,toforget。Itwassillyofmetocomedownhereatall。IthinkIshallsendawiretoHarveytohavetheyachtgotready。Onayachtoneissafe。
  Safefromwhat,Dorian?Youareinsometrouble。Whynottellmewhatitis?YouknowIwouldhelpyou。
  Ican’ttellyou,Harry,heansweredsadly。AndIdaresayitisonlyafancyofmine。Thisunfortunateaccidenthasupsetme。Ihaveahorriblepresentimentthatsomethingofthekindmayhappentome。
  Whatnonsense!
  Ihopeitis,butIcan’thelpfeelingit。Ah!hereistheduchess,lookinglikeArtemisinatailor-madegown。Youseewehavecomeback,Duchess。
  Ihaveheardallaboutit,Mr。Gray,sheanswered。PoorGeoffreyisterriblyupset。Anditseemsthatyouaskedhimnottoshootthehare。
  Howcurious!
  Yes,itwasverycurious。Idon’tknowwhatmademesayit。Somewhim,Isuppose。Itlookedtheloveliestoflittlelivethings。ButIamsorrytheytoldyouabouttheman。Itisahideoussubject。
  Itisanannoyingsubject,brokeinLordHenry。Ithasnopsychologicalvalueatall。NowifGeoffreyhaddonethethingonpurpose,howinterestinghewouldbe!Ishouldliketoknowsomeonewhohadcommittedarealmurder。
  Howhorridofyou,Harry!criedtheduchess。Isn’tit,Mr。
  Gray?Harry,Mr。Grayisillagain。Heisgoingtofaint。
  Doriandrewhimselfupwithaneffortandsmiled。Itisnothing,Duchess,hemurmured。mynervesaredreadfullyoutoforder。Thatisall。IamafraidIwalkedtoofarthismorning。Ididn’thearwhatHarrysaid。Wasitverybad?Youmusttellmesomeothertime。IthinkImustgoandliedown。Youwillexcuseme,won’tyou?
  Theyhadreachedthegreatflightofstepsthatledfromtheconservatoryontotheterrace。AstheglassdoorclosedbehindDorian,LordHenryturnedandlookedattheduchesswithhisslumberouseyes。Areyouverymuchinlovewithhim?heasked。
  Shedidnotanswerforsometime,butstoodgazingatthelandscape。
  IwishIknew,shesaidatlast。
  Heshookhishead。Knowledgewouldbefatal。Itistheuncertaintythatcharmsone。Amistmakesthingswonderful。
  Onemayloseone’sway。
  Allwaysendatthesamepoint,mydearGladys。
  Whatisthat?
  Disillusion。
  Itwasmydebutinlife,shesighed。
  Itcametoyoucrowned。
  Iamtiredofstrawberryleaves。
  Theybecomeyou。
  Onlyinpublic。
  Youwouldmissthem,saidLordHenry。
  Iwillnotpartwithapetal。
  Monmouthhasears。
  Oldageisdullofhearing。
  Hasheneverbeenjealous?
  Iwishhehadbeen。
  Heglancedaboutasifinsearchofsomething。Whatareyoulookingfor?sheinquired。
  Thebuttonfromyourfoil,heanswered。Youhavedroppedit。
  Shelaughed。Ihavestillthemask。
  Itmakesyoureyeslovelier,washisreply。
  Shelaughedagain。Herteethshowedlikewhiteseedsinascarletfruit。
  Upstairs,inhisownroom,DorianGraywaslyingonasofa,withterrorineverytinglingfibreofhisbody。Lifehadsuddenlybecometoohideousaburdenforhimtobear。Thedreadfuldeathoftheunluckybeater,shotinthethicketlikeawildanimal,hadseemedtohimtopre-figuredeathforhimselfalso。HehadnearlyswoonedatwhatLordHenryhadsaidinachancemoodofcynicaljesting。
  Atfiveo’clockheranghisbellforhisservantandgavehimorderstopackhisthingsforthenight-expresstotown,andtohavethebroughamatthedoorbyeight-thirty。HewasdeterminednottosleepanothernightatSelbyRoyal。Itwasanill-omenedplace。Deathwalkedthereinthesunlight。Thegrassoftheforesthadbeenspottedwithblood。
  ThenhewroteanotetoLordHenry,tellinghimthathewasgoinguptotowntoconsulthisdoctorandaskinghimtoentertainhisguestsinhisabsence。Ashewasputtingitintotheenvelope,aknockcametothedoor,andhisvaletinformedhimthatthehead-keeperwishedtoseehim。Hefrownedandbithislip。Sendhimin,hemuttered,aftersomemoments’hesitation。
  Assoonasthemanentered,Dorianpulledhischequebookoutofadrawerandspreaditoutbeforehim。
  Isupposeyouhavecomeabouttheunfortunateaccidentofthismorning,Thornton?hesaid,takingupapen。
  Yes,sir,answeredthegamekeeper。
  Wasthepoorfellowmarried?Hadheanypeopledependentonhim?
  askedDorian,lookingbored。Ifso,Ishouldnotlikethemtobeleftinwant,andwillsendthemanysumofmoneyyoumaythinknecessary。
  Wedon’tknowwhoheis,sir。ThatiswhatItookthelibertyofcomingtoyouabout。
  Don’tknowwhoheis?saidDorian,listlessly。Whatdoyoumean?Wasn’theoneofyourmen?
  No,sir。Neversawhimbefore。Seemslikeasailor,sir。
  ThependroppedfromDorianGray’shand,andhefeltasifhishearthadsuddenlystoppedbeating。Asailor?hecriedout。Didyousayasailor?
  Yes,sir。Helooksasifhehadbeenasortofsailor。tattooedonbotharms,andthatkindofthing。
  Wasthereanythingfoundonhim?saidDorian,leaningforwardandlookingatthemanwithstartledeyes。Anythingthatwouldtellhisname?
  Somemoney,sir——notmuch,andasix-shooter。Therewasnonameofanykind。Adecent-lookingman,sir,butrough-like。Asortofsailorwethink。
  Dorianstartedtohisfeet。Aterriblehopeflutteredpasthim。
  Heclutchedatitmadly。Whereisthebody?heexclaimed。Quick!Imustseeitatonce。
  ItisinanemptystableintheHomeFarm,sir。Thefolkdon’tliketohavethatsortofthingintheirhouses。Theysayacorpsebringsbadluck。
  TheHomeFarm!Gothereatonceandmeetme。Telloneofthegroomstobringmyhorseround。No。Nevermind。I’llgotothestablesmyself。Itwillsavetime。
  Inlessthanaquarterofanhour,DorianGraywasgallopingdownthelongavenueashardashecouldgo。Thetreesseemedtosweeppasthiminspectralprocession,andwildshadowstoflingthemselvesacrosshispath。Oncethemareswervedatawhitegate-postandnearlythrewhim。
  Helashedheracrosstheneckwithhiscrop。Sheclefttheduskyairlikeanarrow。Thestonesflewfromherhoofs。
  AtlasthereachedtheHomeFarm。Twomenwereloiteringintheyard。Heleapedfromthesaddleandthrewthereinstooneofthem。Inthefartheststablealightwasglimmering。Somethingseemedtotellhimthatthebodywasthere,andhehurriedtothedoorandputhishanduponthelatch。
  Therehepausedforamoment,feelingthathewasonthebrinkofadiscoverythatwouldeithermakeormarhislife。Thenhethrustthedooropenandentered。
  Onaheapofsackinginthefarcornerwaslyingthedeadbodyofamandressedinacoarseshirtandapairofbluetrousers。Aspottedhandkerchiefhadbeenplacedovertheface。Acoarsecandle,stuckinabottle,sputteredbesideit。
  DorianGrayshuddered。Hefeltthathiscouldnotbethehandtotakethehandkerchiefaway,andcalledouttooneofthefarm-servantstocometohim。
  Takethatthingofftheface。Iwishtoseeit,hesaid,clutchingatthedoor-postforsupport。
  Whenthefarm-servanthaddoneso,hesteppedforward。Acryofjoybrokefromhislips。ThemanwhohadbeenshotinthethicketwasJamesVane。
  Hestoodthereforsomeminuteslookingatthedeadbody。Asherodehome,hiseyeswerefulloftears,forheknewhewassafe。
  ThePictureofDorianGray:Chapter19Chapter19Thereisnouseyourtellingmethatyouaregoingtobegood,criedLordHenry,dippinghiswhitefingersintoaredcopperbowlfilledwithrose-water。
  Youarequiteperfect。Pray,don’tchange。
  DorianGrayshookhishead。No,Harry,Ihavedonetoomanydreadfulthingsinmylife。Iamnotgoingtodoanymore。Ibeganmygoodactionsyesterday。
  Wherewereyouyesterday?
  Inthecountry,Harry。Iwasstayingatalittleinnbymyself。
  Mydearboy,saidLordHenry,smiling,anybodycanbegoodinthecountry。Therearenotemptationsthere。Thatisthereasonwhypeoplewholiveoutoftownaresoabsolutelyuncivilized。Civilizationisnotbyanymeansaneasythingtoattainto。Thereareonlytwowaysbywhichmancanreachit。Oneisbybeingcultured,theotherbybeingcorrupt。Countrypeoplehavenoopportunityofbeingeither,sotheystagnate。
  Cultureandcorruption,echoedDorian。Ihaveknownsomethingofboth。Itseemsterribletomenowthattheyshouldeverbefoundtogether。
  ForIhaveanewideal,Harry。Iamgoingtoalter。IthinkIhavealtered。
  Youhavenotyettoldmewhatyourgoodactionwas。Ordidyousayyouhaddonemorethanone?askedhiscompanionashespilledintohisplatealittlecrimsonpyramidofseededstrawberriesand,throughaperforated,shell-shapedspoon,snowedwhitesugaruponthem。
  Icantellyou,Harry。ItisnotastoryIcouldtelltoanyoneelse。Isparedsomebody。Itsoundsvain,butyouunderstandwhatI
  mean。ShewasquitebeautifulandwonderfullylikeSibylVane。Ithinkitwasthatwhichfirstattractedmetoher。YourememberSibyl,don’tyou?Howlongagothatseems!Well,Hettywasnotoneofourownclass,ofcourse。Shewassimplyagirlinavillage。ButIreallylovedher。
  IamquitesurethatIlovedher。AllduringthiswonderfulMaythatwehavebeenhaving,Iusedtorundownandseehertwoorthreetimesaweek。
  Yesterdayshemetmeinalittleorchard。Theapple-blossomskepttumblingdownonherhair,andshewaslaughing。Weweretohavegoneawaytogetherthismorningatdawn。SuddenlyIdeterminedtoleaveherasflowerlikeasIhadfoundher。
  Ishouldthinkthenoveltyoftheemotionmusthavegivenyouathrillofrealpleasure,Dorian,interruptedLordHenry。ButIcanfinishyouridyllforyou。Yougavehergoodadviceandbrokeherheart。
  Thatwasthebeginningofyourreformation。
  Harry,youarehorrible!Youmustn’tsaythesedreadfulthings。
  Hetty’sheartisnotbroken。Ofcourse,shecriedandallthat。Butthereisnodisgraceuponher。Shecanlive,likePerdita,inhergardenofmintandmarigold。
  AndweepoverafaithlessFlorizel,saidLordHenry,laughing,asheleanedbackinhischair。MydearDorian,youhavethemostcuriouslyboyishmoods。Doyouthinkthisgirlwilleverbereallycontentnowwithanyoneofherownrank?Isupposeshewillbemarriedsomedaytoaroughcarteroragrinningploughman。Well,thefactofhavingmetyou,andlovedyou,willteachhertodespiseherhusband,andshewillbewretched。Fromamoralpointofview,IcannotsaythatIthinkmuchofyourgreatrenunciation。
  Evenasabeginning,itispoor。Besides,howdoyouknowthatHettyisn’tfloatingatthepresentmomentinsomestarlitmill-pond,withlovelywater-liliesroundher,likeOphelia?
  Ican’tbearthis,Harry!Youmockateverything,andthensuggestthemostserioustragedies。IamsorryItoldyounow。Idon’tcarewhatyousaytome。IknowIwasrightinactingasIdid。PoorHetty!AsI
  rodepastthefarmthismorning,Isawherwhitefaceatthewindow,likeasprayofjasmine。Don’tletustalkaboutitanymore,anddon’ttrytopersuademethatthefirstgoodactionIhavedoneforyears,thefirstlittlebitofself-sacrificeIhaveeverknown,isreallyasortofsin。
  Iwanttobebetter。Iamgoingtobebetter。Tellmesomethingaboutyourself。
  Whatisgoingonintown?Ihavenotbeentotheclubfordays。
  ThepeoplearestilldiscussingpoorBasil’sdisappearance。
  Ishouldhavethoughttheyhadgottiredofthatbythistime,
  saidDorian,pouringhimselfoutsomewineandfrowningslightly。
  Mydearboy,theyhaveonlybeentalkingaboutitforsixweeks,andtheBritishpublicarereallynotequaltothementalstrainofhavingmorethanonetopiceverythreemonths。Theyhavebeenveryfortunatelately,however。Theyhavehadmyowndivorce-caseandAlanCampbell’ssuicide。
  Nowtheyhavegotthemysteriousdisappearanceofanartist。ScotlandYardstillinsiststhatthemaninthegreyulsterwholeftforParisbythemidnighttrainontheninthofNovemberwaspoorBasil,andtheFrenchpolicedeclarethatBasilneverarrivedinParisatall。IsupposeinaboutafortnightweshallbetoldthathehasbeenseeninSanFrancisco。Itisanoddthing,buteveryonewhodisappearsissaidtobeseenatSanFrancisco。Itmustbeadelightfulcity,andpossessalltheattractionsofthenextworld。
  WhatdoyouthinkhashappenedtoBasil?askedDorian,holdinguphisBurgundyagainstthelightandwonderinghowitwasthathecoulddiscussthemattersocalmly。
  Ihavenottheslightestidea。IfBasilchoosestohidehimself,itisnobusinessofmine。Ifheisdead,Idon’twanttothinkabouthim。
  Deathistheonlythingthateverterrifiesme。Ihateit。
  Why?saidtheyoungermanwearily。
  Because,saidLordHenry,passingbeneathhisnostrilsthegilttrellisofanopenvinaigrettebox,onecansurviveeverythingnowadaysexceptthat。Deathandvulgarityaretheonlytwofactsinthenineteenthcenturythatonecannotexplainaway。Letushaveourcoffeeinthemusic-room,Dorian。YoumustplayChopintome。ThemanwithwhommywiferanawayplayedChopinexquisitely。PoorVictoria!Iwasveryfondofher。Thehouseisratherlonelywithouther。Ofcourse,marriedlifeismerelyahabit,abadhabit。Butthenoneregretsthelossevenofone’sworsthabits。
  Perhapsoneregretsthemthemost。Theyaresuchanessentialpartofone’spersonality。
  Doriansaidnothing,butrosefromthetable,andpassingintothenextroom,satdowntothepianoandlethisfingersstrayacrossthewhiteandblackivoryofthekeys。Afterthecoffeehadbeenbroughtin,hestopped,andlookingoveratLordHenry,said,Harry,diditeveroccurtoyouthatBasilwasmurdered?
  LordHenryyawned。Basilwasverypopular,andalwaysworeaWaterburywatch。Whyshouldhehavebeenmurdered?Hewasnotcleverenoughtohaveenemies。Ofcourse,hehadawonderfulgeniusforpainting。ButamancanpaintlikeVelasquezandyetbeasdullaspossible。Basilwasreallyratherdull。Heonlyinterestedmeonce,andthatwaswhenhetoldme,yearsago,thathehadawildadorationforyouandthatyouwerethedominantmotiveofhisart。
  IwasveryfondofBasil,saidDorianwithanoteofsadnessinhisvoice。Butdon’tpeoplesaythathewasmurdered?
  Oh,someofthepapersdo。Itdoesnotseemtometobeatallprobable。IknowtherearedreadfulplacesinParis,butBasilwasnotthesortofmantohavegonetothem。Hehadnocuriosity。Itwashischiefdefect。
  Whatwouldyousay,Harry,ifItoldyouthatIhadmurderedBasil?saidtheyoungerman。Hewatchedhimintentlyafterhehadspoken。
  Iwouldsay,mydearfellow,thatyouwereposingforacharacterthatdoesn’tsuityou。Allcrimeisvulgar,justasallvulgarityiscrime。
  Itisnotinyou,Dorian,tocommitamurder。IamsorryifIhurtyourvanitybysayingso,butIassureyouitistrue。Crimebelongsexclusivelytothelowerorders。Idon’tblametheminthesmallestdegree。Ishouldfancythatcrimewastothemwhatartistous,simplyamethodofprocuringextraordinarysensations。
  Amethodofprocuringsensations?Doyouthink,then,thatamanwhohasoncecommittedamurdercouldpossiblydothesamecrimeagain?
  Don’ttellmethat。
  Oh!anythingbecomesapleasureifonedoesittoooften,criedLordHenry,laughing。Thatisoneofthemostimportantsecretsoflife。
  Ishouldfancy,however,thatmurderisalwaysamistake。Oneshouldneverdoanythingthatonecannottalkaboutafterdinner。ButletuspassfrompoorBasil。IwishIcouldbelievethathehadcometosuchareallyromanticendasyousuggest,butIcan’t。IdaresayhefellintotheSeineoffanomnibusandthattheconductorhushedupthescandal。Yes:Ishouldfancythatwashisend。Iseehimlyingnowonhisbackunderthosedull-greenwaters,withtheheavybargesfloatingoverhimandlongweedscatchinginhishair。Doyouknow,Idon’tthinkhewouldhavedonemuchmoregoodwork。Duringthelasttenyearshispaintinghadgoneoffverymuch。
  Dorianheavedasigh,andLordHenrystrolledacrosstheroomandbegantostroketheheadofacuriousJavaparrot,alarge,grey-plumagedbirdwithpinkcrestandtail,thatwasbalancingitselfuponabambooperch。Ashispointedfingerstouchedit,itdroppedthewhitescurfofcrinkledlidsoverblack,glasslikeeyesandbegantoswaybackwardsandforwards。
  Yes,hecontinued,turningroundandtakinghishandkerchiefoutofhispocket。hispaintinghadquitegoneoff。Itseemedtometohavelostsomething。Ithadlostanideal。Whenyouandheceasedtobegreatfriends,heceasedtobeagreatartist。Whatwasitseparatedyou?
  Isupposeheboredyou。Ifso,heneverforgaveyou。It’sahabitboreshave。Bytheway,whathasbecomeofthatwonderfulportraithedidofyou?Idon’tthinkIhaveeverseenitsincehefinishedit。Oh!IrememberyourtellingmeyearsagothatyouhadsentitdowntoSelby,andthatithadgotmislaidorstolenontheway。Younevergotitback?Whatapity!itwasreallyamasterpiece。IrememberIwantedtobuyit。IwishIhadnow。ItbelongedtoBasil’sbestperiod。Sincethen,hisworkwasthatcuriousmixtureofbadpaintingandgoodintentionsthatalwaysentitlesamantobecalledarepresentativeBritishartist。Didyouadvertiseforit?Youshould。
  Iforget,saidDorian。IsupposeIdid。ButIneverreallylikedit。IamsorryIsatforit。Thememoryofthethingishatefultome。Whydoyoutalkofit?Itusedtoremindmeofthosecuriouslinesinsomeplay——Hamlet,Ithink——howdotheyrun?——
  Likethepaintingofasorrow,Afacewithoutaheart。
  Yes:thatiswhatitwaslike。
  LordHenrylaughed。Ifamantreatslifeartistically,hisbrainishisheart,heanswered,sinkingintoanarm-chair。
  DorianGrayshookhisheadandstrucksomesoftchordsonthepiano。’Likethepaintingofasorrow,’herepeated,’afacewithoutaheart。’
  Theeldermanlaybackandlookedathimwithhalf-closedeyes。
  Bytheway,Dorian,hesaidafterapause,’whatdoesitprofitamanifhegainthewholeworldandlose——howdoesthequotationrun?——hisownsoul’?
  Themusicjarred,andDorianGraystartedandstaredathisfriend。
  Whydoyouaskmethat,Harry?
  Mydearfellow,saidLordHenry,elevatinghiseyebrowsinsurprise,IaskedyoubecauseIthoughtyoumightbeabletogivemeananswer。
  Thatisall。IwasgoingthroughtheparklastSunday,andclosebytheMarbleArchtherestoodalittlecrowdofshabby-lookingpeoplelisteningtosomevulgarstreet-preacher。AsIpassedby,Iheardthemanyellingoutthatquestiontohisaudience。Itstruckmeasbeingratherdramatic。
  Londonisveryrichincuriouseffectsofthatkind。AwetSunday,anuncouthChristianinamackintosh,aringofsicklywhitefacesunderabrokenroofofdrippingumbrellas,andawonderfulphraseflungintotheairbyshrillhystericallips——itwasreallyverygoodinitsway,quiteasuggestion。
  Ithoughtoftellingtheprophetthatarthadasoul,butthatmanhadnot。Iamafraid,however,hewouldnothaveunderstoodme。
  Don’t,Harry。Thesoulisaterriblereality。Itcanbebought,andsold,andbarteredaway。Itcanbepoisoned,ormadeperfect。Thereisasoulineachoneofus。Iknowit。
  Doyoufeelquitesureofthat,Dorian?
  Quitesure。
  Ah!thenitmustbeanillusion。Thethingsonefeelsabsolutelycertainaboutarenevertrue。Thatisthefatalityoffaith,andthelessonofromance。Howgraveyouare!Don’tbesoserious。WhathaveyouorI
  todowiththesuperstitionsofourage?No:wehavegivenupourbeliefinthesoul。Playmesomething。Playmeanocturne,Dorian,and,asyouplay,tellme,inalowvoice,howyouhavekeptyouryouth。Youmusthavesomesecret。Iamonlytenyearsolderthanyouare,andIamwrinkled,andworn,andyellow。Youarereallywonderful,Dorian。Youhaveneverlookedmorecharmingthanyoudoto-night。YouremindmeofthedayIsawyoufirst。Youwererathercheeky,veryshy,andabsolutelyextraordinary。
  Youhavechanged,ofcourse,butnotinappearance。Iwishyouwouldtellmeyoursecret。TogetbackmyyouthIwoulddoanythingintheworld,excepttakeexercise,getupearly,orberespectable。Youth!Thereisnothinglikeit。It’sabsurdtotalkoftheignoranceofyouth。TheonlypeopletowhoseopinionsIlistennowwithanyrespectarepeoplemuchyoungerthanmyself。Theyseeminfrontofme。Lifehasrevealedtothemherlatestwonder。Asfortheaged,Ialwayscontradicttheaged。Idoitonprinciple。Ifyouaskthemtheiropiniononsomethingthathappenedyesterday,theysolemnlygiveyoutheopinionscurrentin1820,whenpeopleworehighstocks,believedineverything,andknewabsolutelynothing。
  Howlovelythatthingyouareplayingis!Iwonder,didChopinwriteitatMajorca,withtheseaweepingroundthevillaandthesaltspraydashingagainstthepanes?Itismarvellouslyromantic。Whatablessingitisthatthereisoneartlefttousthatisnotimitative!Don’tstop。Iwantmusicto-night。ItseemstomethatyouaretheyoungApolloandthatIamMarsyaslisteningtoyou。Ihavesorrows,Dorian,ofmyown,thatevenyouknownothingof。Thetragedyofoldageisnotthatoneisold,butthatoneisyoung。Iamamazedsometimesatmyownsincerity。Ah,Dorian,howhappyyouare!Whatanexquisitelifeyouhavehad!Youhavedrunkdeeplyofeverything。Youhavecrushedthegrapesagainstyourpalate。Nothinghasbeenhiddenfromyou。Andithasallbeentoyounomorethanthesoundofmusic。Ithasnotmarredyou。Youarestillthesame。
  Iamnotthesame,Harry。
  Yes,youarethesame。Iwonderwhattherestofyourlifewillbe。Don’tspoilitbyrenunciations。Atpresentyouareaperfecttype。
  Don’tmakeyourselfincomplete。Youarequiteflawlessnow。Youneednotshakeyourhead:youknowyouare。Besides,Dorian,don’tdeceiveyourself。
  Lifeisnotgovernedbywillorintention。Lifeisaquestionofnerves,andfibres,andslowlybuilt-upcellsinwhichthoughthidesitselfandpassionhasitsdreams。Youmayfancyyourselfsafeandthinkyourselfstrong。Butachancetoneofcolourinaroomoramorningsky,aparticularperfumethatyouhadoncelovedandthatbringssubtlememorieswithit,alinefromaforgottenpoemthatyouhadcomeacrossagain,acadencefromapieceofmusicthatyouhadceasedtoplay——Itellyou,Dorian,thatitisonthingslikethesethatourlivesdepend。Browningwritesaboutthatsomewhere。butourownsenseswillimaginethemforus。Therearemomentswhentheodouroflilasblancpassessuddenlyacrossme,andIhavetolivethestrangestmonthofmylifeoveragain。IwishIcouldchangeplaceswithyou,Dorian。Theworldhascriedoutagainstusboth,butithasalwaysworshippedyou。Italwayswillworshipyou。
  Youarethetypeofwhattheageissearchingfor,andwhatitisafraidithasfound。Iamsogladthatyouhaveneverdoneanything,nevercarvedastatue,orpaintedapicture,orproducedanythingoutsideofyourself!
  Lifehasbeenyourart。Youhavesetyourselftomusic。Yourdaysareyoursonnets。
  Dorianroseupfromthepianoandpassedhishandthroughhishair。Yes,lifehasbeenexquisite,hemurmured,butIamnotgoingtohavethesamelife,Harry。Andyoumustnotsaytheseextravagantthingstome。Youdon’tknoweverythingaboutme。Ithinkthatifyoudid,evenyouwouldturnfromme。Youlaugh。Don’tlaugh。
  Whyhaveyoustoppedplaying,Dorian?Gobackandgivemethenocturneoveragain。Lookatthatgreat,honey-colouredmoonthathangsintheduskyair。Sheiswaitingforyoutocharmher,andifyouplayshewillcomeclosertotheearth。Youwon’t?Letusgototheclub,then。
  Ithasbeenacharmingevening,andwemustenditcharmingly。ThereissomeoneatWhite’swhowantsimmenselytoknowyou——youngLordPoole,Bournemouth’seldestson。Hehasalreadycopiedyourneckties,andhasbeggedmetointroducehimtoyou。Heisquitedelightfulandratherremindsmeofyou。
  Ihopenot,saidDorianwithasadlookinhiseyes。ButI
  amtiredto-night,Harry。Ishan’tgototheclub。Itisnearlyeleven,andIwanttogotobedearly。
  Dostay。Youhaveneverplayedsowellasto-night。Therewassomethinginyourtouchthatwaswonderful。IthadmoreexpressionthanIhadeverheardfromitbefore。
  ItisbecauseIamgoingtobegood,heanswered,smiling。I
  amalittlechangedalready。
  Youcannotchangetome,Dorian,saidLordHenry。YouandI
  willalwaysbefriends。
  Yetyoupoisonedmewithabookonce。Ishouldnotforgivethat。
  Harry,promisemethatyouwillneverlendthatbooktoanyone。Itdoesharm。
  Mydearboy,youarereallybeginningtomoralize。Youwillsoonbegoingaboutliketheconverted,andtherevivalist,warningpeopleagainstallthesinsofwhichyouhavegrowntired。Youaremuchtoodelightfultodothat。Besides,itisnouse。YouandIarewhatweare,andwillbewhatwewillbe。Asforbeingpoisonedbyabook,thereisnosuchthingasthat。Arthasnoinfluenceuponaction。Itannihilatesthedesiretoact。Itissuperblysterile。Thebooksthattheworldcallsimmoralarebooksthatshowtheworlditsownshame。Thatisall。Butwewon’tdiscussliterature。Comeroundto-morrow。Iamgoingtorideateleven。Wemightgotogether,andIwilltakeyoutolunchafterwardswithLadyBranksome。
  Sheisacharmingwoman,andwantstoconsultyouaboutsometapestriessheisthinkingofbuying。Mindyoucome。Orshallwelunchwithourlittleduchess?Shesayssheneverseesyounow。PerhapsyouaretiredofGladys?
  Ithoughtyouwouldbe。Herclevertonguegetsonone’snerves。Well,inanycase,behereateleven。
  MustIreallycome,Harry?
  Certainly。Theparkisquitelovelynow。Idon’tthinktherehavebeensuchlilacssincetheyearImetyou。
  Verywell。Ishallbehereateleven,saidDorian。Goodnight,Harry。Ashereachedthedoor,hehesitatedforamoment,asifhehadsomethingmoretosay。Thenhesighedandwentout。
  ThePictureofDorianGray:Chapter20Chapter20Itwasalovelynight,sowarmthathethrewhiscoatoverhisarmanddidnotevenputhissilkscarfroundhisthroat。Ashestrolledhome,smokinghiscigarette,twoyoungmenineveningdresspassedhim。Heheardoneofthemwhispertotheother,ThatisDorianGray。Herememberedhowpleasedheusedtobewhenhewaspointedout,orstaredat,ortalkedabout。Hewastiredofhearinghisownnamenow。Halfthecharmofthelittlevillagewherehehadbeensooftenlatelywasthatnooneknewwhohewas。Hehadoftentoldthegirlwhomhehadluredtolovehimthathewaspoor,andshehadbelievedhim。Hehadtoldheroncethathewaswicked,andshehadlaughedathimandansweredthatwickedpeoplewerealwaysveryoldandveryugly。Whatalaughshehad!——justlikeathrushsinging。
  Andhowprettyshehadbeeninhercottondressesandherlargehats!Sheknewnothing,butshehadeverythingthathehadlost。
  Whenhereachedhome,hefoundhisservantwaitingupforhim。
  Hesenthimtobed,andthrewhimselfdownonthesofainthelibrary,andbegantothinkoversomeofthethingsthatLordHenryhadsaidtohim。
  Wasitreallytruethatonecouldneverchange?Hefeltawildlongingfortheunstainedpurityofhisboyhood——hisrose-whiteboyhood,asLordHenryhadoncecalledit。Heknewthathehadtarnishedhimself,filledhismindwithcorruptionandgivenhorrortohisfancy。thathehadbeenanevilinfluencetoothers,andhadexperiencedaterriblejoyinbeingso。andthatofthelivesthathadcrossedhisown,ithadbeenthefairestandthemostfullofpromisethathehadbroughttoshame。
  Butwasitallirretrievable?Wastherenohopeforhim?
  Ah!inwhatamonstrousmomentofprideandpassionhehadprayedthattheportraitshouldbeartheburdenofhisdays,andhekeeptheunsulliedsplendourofeternalyouth!Allhisfailurehadbeenduetothat。Betterforhimthateachsinofhislifehadbroughtitssureswiftpenaltyalongwithit。Therewaspurificationinpunishment。NotForgiveusoursins
  butSmiteusforouriniquitiesshouldbetheprayerofmantoamostjustGod。
  ThecuriouslycarvedmirrorthatLordHenryhadgiventohim,somanyyearsagonow,wasstandingonthetable,andthewhite-limbedCupidslaughedrounditasofold。Hetookitup,ashehaddoneonthatnightofhorrorwhenbehadfirstnotedthechangeinthefatalpicture,andwithwild,tear-dimmedeyeslookedintoitspolishedshield。Once,someonewhohadterriblylovedhimhadwrittentohimamadletter,endingwiththeseidolatrouswords:Theworldischangedbecauseyouaremadeofivoryandgold。Thecurvesofyourlipsrewritehistory。Thephrasescamebacktohismemory,andherepeatedthemoverandovertohimself。
  Thenheloathedhisownbeauty,andflingingthemirroronthefloor,crusheditintosilversplintersbeneathhisheel。Itwashisbeautythathadruinedhim,hisbeautyandtheyouththathehadprayedfor。Butforthosetwothings,hislifemighthavebeenfreefromstain。Hisbeautyhadbeentohimbutamask,hisyouthbutamockery。Whatwasyouthatbest?Agreen,anunripetime,atimeofshallowmoods,andsicklythoughts。Whyhadhewornitslivery?Youthhadspoiledhim。
  Itwasbetternottothinkofthepast。Nothingcouldalterthat。
  Itwasofhimself,andofhisownfuture,thathehadtothink。JamesVanewashiddeninanamelessgraveinSelbychurchyard。AlanCampbellhadshothimselfonenightinhislaboratory,buthadnotrevealedthesecretthathehadbeenforcedtoknow。Theexcitement,suchasitwas,overBasilHallward’sdisappearancewouldsoonpassaway。Itwasalreadywaning。Hewasperfectlysafethere。Nor,indeed,wasitthedeathofBasilHallwardthatweighedmostuponhismind。Itwasthelivingdeathofhisownsoulthattroubledhim。Basilhadpaintedtheportraitthathadmarredhislife。
  Hecouldnotforgivehimthat。Itwastheportraitthathaddoneeverything。
  Basilhadsaidthingstohimthatwereunbearable,andthathehadyetbornewithpatience。Themurderhadbeensimplythemadnessofamoment。
  AsforAlanCampbell,hissuicidehadbeenhisownact。Hehadchosentodoit。Itwasnothingtohim。
  Anewlife!Thatwaswhathewanted。Thatwaswhathewaswaitingfor。Surelyhehadbegunitalready。Hehadsparedoneinnocentthing,atanyrate。Hewouldneveragaintemptinnocence。Hewouldbegood。
  AshethoughtofHettyMerton,hebegantowonderiftheportraitinthelockedroomhadchanged。Surelyitwasnotstillsohorribleasithadbeen?Perhapsifhislifebecamepure,hewouldbeabletoexpeleverysignofevilpassionfromtheface。Perhapsthesignsofevilhadalreadygoneaway。Hewouldgoandlook。
  Hetookthelampfromthetableandcreptupstairs。Asheunbarredthedoor,asmileofjoyflittedacrosshisstrangelyyoung-lookingfaceandlingeredforamomentabouthislips。Yes,hewouldbegood,andthehideousthingthathehadhiddenawaywouldnolongerbeaterrortohim。
  Hefeltasiftheloadhadbeenliftedfromhimalready。
  Hewentinquietly,lockingthedoorbehindhim,aswashiscustom,anddraggedthepurplehangingfromtheportrait。Acryofpainandindignationbrokefromhim。Hecouldseenochange,savethatintheeyestherewasalookofcunningandinthemouththecurvedwrinkleofthehypocrite。
  Thethingwasstillloathsome——moreloathsome,ifpossible,thanbefore——andthescarletdewthatspottedthehandseemedbrighter,andmorelikebloodnewlyspilled。Thenhetrembled。Haditbeenmerelyvanitythathadmadehimdohisonegooddeed?Orthedesireforanewsensation,asLordHenryhadhinted,withhismockinglaugh?Orthatpassiontoactapartthatsometimesmakesusdothingsfinerthanweareourselves?Or,perhaps,allthese?Andwhywastheredstainlargerthanithadbeen?Itseemedtohavecreptlikeahorriblediseaseoverthewrinkledfingers。Therewasbloodonthepaintedfeet,asthoughthethinghaddripped——bloodevenonthehandthathadnotheldtheknife。Confess?Diditmeanthathewastoconfess?Togivehimselfupandbeputtodeath?Helaughed。Hefeltthattheideawasmonstrous。Besides,evenifhedidconfess,whowouldbelievehim?Therewasnotraceofthemurderedmananywhere。Everythingbelongingtohimhadbeendestroyed。Hehimselfhadburnedwhathadbeenbelow-stairs。Theworldwouldsimplysaythathewasmad。Theywouldshuthimupifhepersistedinhisstory……Yetitwashisdutytoconfess,tosufferpublicshame,andtomakepublicatonement。TherewasaGodwhocalleduponmentotelltheirsinstoearthaswellastoheaven。Nothingthathecoulddowouldcleansehimtillhehadtoldhisownsin。Hissin?
  Heshruggedhisshoulders。ThedeathofBasilHallwardseemedverylittletohim。HewasthinkingofHettyMerton。Foritwasanunjustmirror,thismirrorofhissoulthathewaslookingat。Vanity?Curiosity?Hypocrisy?
  Hadtherebeennothingmoreinhisrenunciationthanthat?Therehadbeensomethingmore。Atleasthethoughtso。Butwhocouldtell?……No。Therehadbeennothingmore。Throughvanityhehadsparedher。Inhypocrisyhehadwornthemaskofgoodness。Forcuriosity’ssakehehadtriedthedenialofself。Herecognizedthatnow。
  Butthismurder——wasittodoghimallhislife?Washealwaystobeburdenedbyhispast?Washereallytoconfess?Never。Therewasonlyonebitofevidenceleftagainsthim。Thepictureitself——thatwasevidence。Hewoulddestroyit。Whyhadhekeptitsolong?Onceithadgivenhimpleasuretowatchitchangingandgrowingold。Oflatehehadfeltnosuchpleasure。Ithadkepthimawakeatnight。Whenhehadbeenaway,hehadbeenfilledwithterrorlestothereyesshouldlookuponit。
  Ithadbroughtmelancholyacrosshispassions。Itsmerememoryhadmarredmanymomentsofjoy。Ithadbeenlikeconsciencetohim。Yes,ithadbeenconscience。Hewoulddestroyit。
  HelookedroundandsawtheknifethathadstabbedBasilHallward。
  Hehadcleaneditmanytimes,tilltherewasnostainleftuponit。Itwasbright,andglistened。Asithadkilledthepainter,soitwouldkillthepainter’swork,andallthatthatmeant。Itwouldkillthepast,andwhenthatwasdead,hewouldbefree。Itwouldkillthismonstroussoul-life,andwithoutitshideouswarnings,hewouldbeatpeace。Heseizedthething,andstabbedthepicturewithit。
  Therewasacryheard,andacrash。Thecrywassohorribleinitsagonythatthefrightenedservantswokeandcreptoutoftheirrooms。
  Twogentlemen,whowerepassinginthesquarebelow,stoppedandlookedupatthegreathouse。Theywalkedontilltheymetapolicemanandbroughthimback。Themanrangthebellseveraltimes,buttherewasnoanswer。
  Exceptforalightinoneofthetopwindows,thehousewasalldark。Afteratime,hewentawayandstoodinanadjoiningporticoandwatched。
  Whosehouseisthat,Constable?askedtheelderofthetwogentlemen。
  Mr。DorianGray’s,sir,answeredthepoliceman。
  Theylookedateachother,astheywalkedaway,andsneered。OneofthemwasSirHenryAshton’suncle。
  Inside,intheservants’partofthehouse,thehalf-claddomesticsweretalkinginlowwhisperstoeachother。OldMrs。Leafwascryingandwringingherhands。Franciswasaspaleasdeath。
  Afteraboutaquarterofanhour,hegotthecoachmanandoneofthefootmenandcreptupstairs。Theyknocked,buttherewasnoreply。
  Theycalledout。Everythingwasstill。Finally,aftervainlytryingtoforcethedoor,theygotontheroofanddroppeddownontothebalcony。
  Thewindowsyieldedeasily——theirboltswereold。
  Whentheyentered,theyfoundhanginguponthewallasplendidportraitoftheirmasterastheyhadlastseenhim,inallthewonderofhisexquisiteyouthandbeauty。Lyingonthefloorwasadeadman,ineveningdress,withaknifeinhisheart。Hewaswithered,wrinkled,andloathsomeofvisage。Itwasnottilltheyhadexaminedtheringsthattheyrecognizedwhoitwas。
  THEEND