《道林格雷的画像》第2章

ns。　intellect　is　in　itself　a　mode　of　exaggeration；　and　destroys　the　harmony　of　any　face。　the　moment　one　sits　down　to　think；　one　bees　all　nose；　or　all　forehead；　or　something　horrid。　look　at　the　successful　men　in　any　of　the　learned　professions。　how　perfectly　hideous　they　are！　except；　of　course；　in　the　church。　but　then　in　the　church　they　dont　think。　a　bishop　keeps　on　saying　at　the　age　of　eighty　what　he　was　told　to　say　when　he　was　a　boy　of　eighteen；　and　as　a　natural　consequence　he　always　looks　absolutely　delightful。　your　mysterious　young　friend；　whose　name　you　have　never　told　me；　but　whose　picture　really　fascinates　me；　never　thinks。　i　feel　quite　sure　of　that。　he　is　some　brainless　beautiful　creature　who　should　be　always　here　in　winter　when　we　have　no　flowers　to　look　at；　and　always　here　in　summer　when　we　want　something　to　chill　our　intelligence。　dont　flatter　yourself；　basil：　you　are　not　in　the　least　like　him。〃
〃you　dont　understand　me；　harry；〃　answered　the　artist。　〃of　course　i　am　not　like　him。　i　know　that　perfectly　well。　indeed；　i　should　be　sorry　to　look　like　him。　you　shrug　your　shoulders？　i　am　telling　you　the　truth。　there　is　a　fatality　about　all　physical　and　intellectual　distinction；　the　sort　of　fatality　that　seems　to　dog　through　history　the　faltering　steps　of　kings。　it　is　better　not　to　be　different　from　ones　fellows。　the　ugly　and　the　stupid　have　the　best　of　it　in　this　world。　they　can　sit　at　their　ease　and　gape　at　the　play。　if　they　know　nothing　of　victory；　they　are　at　least　spared　the　knowledge　of　defeat。　they　live　as　we　all　should　live……undisturbed；　indifferent；　and　without　disquiet。　they　neither　bring　ruin　upon　others；　nor　ever　receive　it　from　alien　hands。　your　rank　and　wealth；　harry；　my　brains；　such　as　they　are……my　art；　whatever　it　may　be　worth；　dorian　grays　good　looks……we　shall　all　suffer　for　what　the　gods　have　given　us；　suffer　terribly。〃
〃dorian　gray？　is　that　his　name？〃　asked　lord　henry；　walking　across　the　studio　towards　basil　hallward。
〃yes；　that　is　his　name。　i　didnt　intend　to　tell　it　to　you。〃
〃but　why　not？〃
〃oh；　i　cant　explain。　when　i　like　people　immensely；　i　never　tell　their　names　to　any　one。　it　is　like　surrendering　a　part　of　them。　i　have　grown　to　love　secrecy。　it　seems　to　be　the　one　thing　that　can　make　modern　life　mysterious　or　marvellous　to　us。　the　monest　thing　is　delightful　if　one　only　hides　it。　when　i　leave　town　now　i　never　tell　my　people　where　i　am　going。　if　i　did；　i　would　lose　all　my　pleasure。　it　is　a　silly　habit；　i　dare　say；　but　somehow　it　seems　to　bring　a　great　deal　of　romance　into　ones　life。　i　suppose　you　think　me　awfully　foolish　about　it？〃
〃not　at　all；〃　answered　lord　henry；　〃not　at　all；　my　dear　basil。　you　seem　to　forget　that　i　am　married；　and　the　one　charm　of　marriage　is　that　it　makes　a　life　of　deception　absolutely　necessary　for　both　parties。　i　never　know　where　my　wife　is；　and　my　wife　never　knows　what　i　am　doing。　when　we　meet……we　do　meet　occasionally；　when　we　dine　out　together；　or　go　down　to　the　dukes……we　tell　each　other　the　most　absurd　stories　with　the　most　serious　faces。　my　wife　is　very　good　at　it……much　better；　in　fact；　than　i　am。　she　never　gets　confused　over　her　dates；　and　i　always　do。　but　when　she　does　find　me　out；　she　makes　no　row　at　all。　i　sometimes　wish　she　would；　but　she　merely　laughs　at　me。〃
〃i　hate　the　way　you　talk　about　your　married　life；　harry；〃　said　basil　hallward；　strolling　towards　the　door　that　led　into　the　garden。　〃i　believe　that　you　are　really　a　very　good　husband；　but　that　you　are　thoroughly　ashamed　of　your　own　virtues。　you　are　an　extraordinary　fellow。　you　never　say　a　moral　thing；　and　you　never　do　a　wrong　thing。　your　cynicism　is　simply　a　pose。〃
〃being　natural　is　simply　a　pose；　and　the　most　irritating　pose　i　know；〃　cried　lord　henry；　laughing；　and　the　two　young　men　went　out　into　the　garden　together　and　ensconced　themselves　on　a　long　bamboo　seat　that　stood　in　the　shade　of　a　tall　laurel　bush。　the　sunlight　slipped　over　the　polished　leaves。　in　the　grass；　white　daisies　were　tremulous。
after　a　pause；　lord　henry　pulled　out　his　watch。　〃i　am　afraid　i　must　be　going；　basil；〃　he　murmured；　〃and　before　i　go；　i　insist　on　your　answering　a　question　i　put　to　you　some　time　ago。〃
〃what　is　that？〃　said　the　painter；　keeping　his　eyes　fixed　on　the　ground。
〃you　know　quite　well。〃
〃i　do　not；　harry。〃
〃well；　i　will　tell　you　what　it　is。　i　want　you　to　explain　to　me　why　you　wont　exhibit　dorian　grays　picture。　i　want　the　real　reason。〃
〃i　told　you　the　real　reason。〃
〃no；　you　did　not。　you　said　it　was　because　there　was　too　much　of　yourself　in　it。　now；　that　is　childish。〃
〃harry；〃　said　basil　hallward；　looking　him　straight　in　the　face；　〃every　portrait　that　is　painted　with　feeling　is　a　portrait　of　the　artist；　not　of　the　sitter。　the　sitter　is　merely　the　accident；　the　occasion。　it　is　not　he　who　is　revealed　by　the　painter；　it　is　rather　the　painter　who；　on　the　coloured　canvas；　reveals　himself。　the　reason　i　will　not　exhibit　this　picture　is　that　i　am　afraid　that　i　have　shown　in　it　the　secret　of　my　own　soul。〃
lord　henry　laughed。　〃and　what　is　that？〃　he　asked。
〃i　will　tell　you；〃　said　hallward；　but　an　expression　of　perplexity　came　over　his　face。
〃i　am　all　expectation；　basil；〃　continued　his　panion；　glancing　at　him。
〃oh；　there　is　really　very　little　to　tell；　harry；〃　answered　the　painter；　〃and　i　am　afraid　you　will　hardly　understand　it。　perhaps　you　will　hardly　believe　it。〃
lord　henry　smiled；　and　leaning　down；　plucked　a　pink…petalled　daisy　from　the　grass　and　examined　it。　〃i　am　quite　sure　i　shall　understand　it；〃　he　replied；　gazing　intently　at　the　little　golden；　white…feathered　disk；　〃and　as　for　believing　things；　i　can　believe　anything；　provided　that　it　is　quite　incredible。〃
the　wind　shook　some　blossoms　from　the　trees；　and　the　heavy　lilac…blooms；　with　their　clustering　stars；　moved　to　and　fro　in　the　languid　air。　a　grasshopper　began　to　chirrup　by　the　wall；　and　like　a　blue　thread　a　long　thin　dragon…fly　floated　past　on　its　brown　gauze　wings。　lord　henry　felt　as　if　he　could　hear　basil　hallwards　heart　beating；　and　wondered　what　was　ing。
〃the　story　is　simply　this；〃　said　the　painter　after　some　time。　〃two　months　ago　i　went　to　a　crush　at　lady　brandons。　you　know　we　poor　artists　have　to　show　ourselves　in