第7章
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  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

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