《道林格雷的画像》第7章

nnot　find　it。　dont　speak。　let　me　think。　or；　rather；　let　me　try　not　to　think。〃
for　nearly　ten　minutes　he　stood　there；　motionless；　with　parted　lips　and　eyes　strangely　bright。　he　was　dimly　conscious　that　entirely　fresh　influences　were　at　work　within　him。　yet　they　seemed　to　him　to　have　e　really　from　himself。　the　few　words　that　basils　friend　had　said　to　him……words　spoken　by　chance；　no　doubt；　and　with　wilful　paradox　in　them……　had　touched　some　secret　chord　that　had　never　been　touched　before；　but　that　he　felt　was　now　vibrating　and　throbbing　to　curious　pulses。
music　had　stirred　him　like　that。　music　had　troubled　him　many　times。　but　music　was　not　articulate。　it　was　not　a　new　world；　but　rather　another　chaos；　that　it　created　in　us。　words！　mere　words！　how　terrible　they　were！　how　clear；　and　vivid；　and　cruel！　one　could　not　escape　from　them。　and　yet　what　a　subtle　magic　there　was　in　them！　they　seemed　to　be　able　to　give　a　plastic　form　to　formless　things；　and　to　have　a　music　of　their　own　as　sweet　as　that　of　viol　or　of　lute。　mere　words！　was　there　anything　so　real　as　words？
yes；　there　had　been　things　in　his　boyhood　that　he　had　not　understood。　he　understood　them　now。　life　suddenly　became　fiery…coloured　to　him。　it　seemed　to　him　that　he　had　been　walking　in　fire。　why　had　he　not　known　it？
with　his　subtle　smile；　lord　henry　watched　him。　he　knew　the　precise　psychological　moment　when　to　say　nothing。　he　felt　intensely　interested。　he　was　amazed　at　the　sudden　impression　that　his　words　had　produced；　and；　remembering　a　book　that　he　had　read　when　he　was　sixteen；　a　book　which　had　revealed　to　him　much　that　he　had　not　known　before；　he　wondered　whether　dorian　gray　was　passing　through　a　similar　experience。　he　had　merely　shot　an　arrow　into　the　air。　had　it　hit　the　mark？　how　fascinating　the　lad　was！
hallward　painted　away　with　that　marvellous　bold　touch　of　his；　that　had　the　true　refinement　and　perfect　delicacy　that　in　art；　at　any　rate　es　only　from　strength。　he　was　unconscious　of　the　silence。
〃basil；　i　am　tired　of　standing；〃　cried　dorian　gray　suddenly。　〃i　must　go　out　and　sit　in　the　garden。　the　air　is　stifling　here。〃
〃my　dear　fellow；　i　am　so　sorry。　when　i　am　painting；　i　cant　think　of　anything　else。　but　you　never　sat　better。　you　were　perfectly　still。　and　i　have　caught　the　effect　i　wanted……　the　half…parted　lips　and　the　bright　look　in　the　eyes。　i　dont　know　what　harry　has　been　saying　to　you；　but　he　has　certainly　made　you　have　the　most　wonderful　expression。　i　suppose　he　has　been　paying　you　pliments。　you　mustnt　believe　a　word　that　he　says。〃
〃he　has　certainly　not　been　paying　me　pliments。　perhaps　that　is　the　reason　that　i　dont　believe　anything　he　has　told　me。〃
〃you　know　you　believe　it　all；〃　said　lord　henry；　looking　at　him　with　his　dreamy　languorous　eyes。　〃i　will　go　out　to　the　garden　with　you。　it　is　horribly　hot　in　the　studio。　basil；　let　us　have　something　iced　to　drink；　something　with　strawberries　in　it。〃
〃certainly；　harry。　just　touch　the　bell；　and　when　parker　es　i　will　tell　him　what　you　want。　i　have　got　to　work　up　this　background；　so　i　will　join　you　later　on。　dont　keep　dorian　too　long。　i　have　never　been　in　better　form　for　painting　than　i　am　to…day。　this　is　going　to　be　my　masterpiece。　it　is　my　masterpiece　as　it　stands。〃
lord　henry　went　out　to　the　garden　and　found　dorian　gray　burying　his　face　in　the　great　cool　lilac…blossoms；　feverishly　drinking　in　their　perfume　as　if　it　had　been　wine。　he　came　close　to　him　and　put　his　hand　upon　his　shoulder。　〃you　are　quite　right　to　do　that；〃　he　murmured。　〃nothing　can　cure　the　soul　but　the　senses；　just　as　nothing　can　cure　the　senses　but　the　soul。〃
the　lad　started　and　drew　back。　he　was　bareheaded；　and　the　leaves　had　tossed　his　rebellious　curls　and　tangled　all　their　gilded　threads。　there　was　a　look　of　fear　in　his　eyes；　such　as　people　have　when　they　are　suddenly　awakened。　his　finely　chiselled　nostrils　quivered；　and　some　hidden　nerve　shook　the　scarlet　of　his　lips　and　left　them　trembling。
〃yes；〃　continued　lord　henry；　〃that　is　one　of　the　great　secrets　of　life……　to　cure　the　soul　by　means　of　the　senses；　and　the　senses　by　means　of　the　soul。　you　are　a　wonderful　creation。　you　know　more　than　you　think　you　know；　just　as　you　know　less　than　you　want　to　know。〃
dorian　gray　frowned　and　turned　his　head　away。　he　could　not　help　liking　the　tall；　graceful　young　man　who　was　standing　by　him。　his　romantic；　olive…coloured　face　and　worn　expression　interested　him。　there　was　something　in　his　low　languid　voice　that　was　absolutely　fascinating。　his　cool；　white；　flowerlike　hands；　even；　had　a　curious　charm。　they　moved；　as　he　spoke；　like　music；　and　seemed　to　have　a　language　of　their　own。　but　he　felt　afraid　of　him；　and　ashamed　of　being　afraid。　why　had　it　been　left　for　a　stranger　to　reveal　him　to　himself？　he　had　known　basil　hallward　for　months；　but　the　friendship　between　them　had　never　altered　him。　suddenly　there　had　e　some　one　across　his　life　who　seemed　to　have　disclosed　to　him　lifes　mystery。　and；　yet；　what　was　there　to　be　afraid　of？　he　was　not　a　schoolboy　or　a　girl。　it　was　absurd　to　be　frightened。
〃let　us　go　and　sit　in　the　shade；〃　said　lord　henry。　〃parker　has　brought　out　the　drinks；　and　if　you　stay　any　longer　in　this　glare；　you　will　be　quite　spoiled；　and　basil　will　never　paint　you　again。　you　really　must　not　allow　yourself　to　bee　sunburnt。　it　would　be　unbeing。〃
〃what　can　it　matter？〃　cried　dorian　gray；　laughing；　as　he　sat　down　on　the　seat　at　the　end　of　the　garden。
〃it　should　matter　everything　to　you；　mr。　gray。〃
〃why？〃
〃because　you　have　the　most　marvellous　youth；　and　youth　is　the　one　thing　worth　having。〃
〃i　dont　feel　that；　lord　henry。〃
〃no；　you　dont　feel　it　now。　some　day；　when　you　are　old　and　wrinkled　and　ugly；　when　thought　has　seared　your　forehead　with　its　lines；　and　passion　branded　your　lips　with　its　hideous　fires；　you　will　feel　it；　you　will　feel　it　terribly。　now；　wherever　you　go；　you　charm　the　world。　will　it　always　be　so？　。　。　。　you　have　a　wonderfully　beautiful　face；　mr。　gray。　dont　frown。　you　have。　and　beauty　is　a　form　of　genius……　is　higher；　indeed；　than　genius；　as　it　needs　no　explanation。　it　is　of　the　great　facts　of　the　world；　like　sunlight；　or　spring…time；　or　the　reflection　in　dark　waters　of　that　silver　shell　we　call　the　mo