《道林格雷的画像》第46章

r；　that　some　of　those　who　had　been　most　intimate　with　him　appeared；　after　a　time；　to　shun　him。　women　who　had　wildly　adored　him；　and　for　his　sake　had　braved　all　social　censure　and　set　convention　at　defiance；　were　seen　to　grow　pallid　with　shame　or　horror　if　dorian　gray　entered　the　room。
yet　these　whispered　scandals　only　increased　in　the　eyes　of　many　his　strange　and　dangerous　charm。　his　great　wealth　was　a　certain　element　of　security。　society……civilized　society；　at　least……　is　never　very　ready　to　believe　anything　to　the　detriment　of　those　who　are　both　rich　and　fascinating。　it　feels　instinctively　that　manners　are　of　more　importance　than　morals；　and；　in　its　opinion；　the　highest　respectability　is　of　much　less　value　than　the　possession　of　a　good　chef。　and；　after　all；　it　is　a　very　poor　consolation　to　be　told　that　the　man　who　has　given　one　a　bad　dinner；　or　poor　wine；　is　irreproachable　in　his　private　life。　even　the　cardinal　virtues　cannot　atone　for　half…cold　entrées；　as　lord　henry　remarked　once；　in　a　discussion　on　the　subject；　and　there　is　possibly　a　good　deal　to　be　said　for　his　view。　for　the　canons　of　good　society　are；　or　should　be；　the　same　as　the　canons　of　art。　form　is　absolutely　essential　to　it。　it　should　have　the　dignity　of　a　ceremony；　as　well　as　its　unreality；　and　should　bine　the　insincere　character　of　a　romantic　play　with　the　wit　and　beauty　that　make　such　plays　delightful　to　us。　is　insincerity　such　a　terrible　thing？　i　think　not。　it　is　merely　a　method　by　which　we　can　multiply　our　personalities。
such；　at　any　rate；　was　dorian　grays　opinion。　he　used　to　wonder　at　the　shallow　psychology　of　those　who　conceive　the　ego　in　man　as　a　thing　simple；　permanent；　reliable；　and　of　one　essence。　to　him；　man　was　a　being　with　myriad　lives　and　myriad　sensations；　a　plex　multiform　creature　that　bore　within　itself　strange　legacies　of　thought　and　passion；　and　whose　very　flesh　was　tainted　with　the　monstrous　maladies　of　the　dead。　he　loved　to　stroll　through　the　gaunt　cold　picture…gallery　of　his　country　house　and　look　at　the　various　portraits　of　those　whose　blood　flowed　in　his　veins。　here　was　philip　herbert；　described　by　francis　osborne；　in　his　memoires　on　the　reigns　of　queen　elizabeth　and　king　james；　as　one　who　was　〃caressed　by　the　court　for　his　handsome　face；　which　kept　him　not　long　pany。〃　was　it　young　herberts　life　that　he　sometimes　led？　had　some　strange　poisonous　germ　crept　from　body　to　body　till　it　had　reached　his　own？　was　it　some　dim　sense　of　that　ruined　grace　that　had　made　him　so　suddenly；　and　almost　without　cause；　give　utterance；　in　basil　hallwards　studio；　to　the　mad　prayer　that　had　so　changed　his　life？　here；　in　gold…embroidered　red　doublet；　jewelled　surcoat；　and　gilt…edged　ruff　and　wristbands；　stood　sir　anthony　sherard；　with　his　silver…and…black　armour　piled　at　his　feet。　what　had　this　mans　legacy　been？　had　the　lover　of　giovanna　of　naples　bequeathed　him　some　inheritance　of　sin　and　shame？　were　his　own　actions　merely　the　dreams　that　the　dead　man　had　not　dared　to　realize？　here；　from　the　fading　canvas；　smiled　lady　elizabeth　devereux；　in　her　gauze　hood；　pearl　stomacher；　and　pink　slashed　sleeves。　a　flower　was　in　her　right　hand；　and　her　left　clasped　an　enamelled　collar　of　white　and　damask　roses。　on　a　table　by　her　side　lay　a　mandolin　and　an　apple。　there　were　large　green　rosettes　upon　her　little　pointed　shoes。　he　knew　her　life；　and　the　strange　stories　that　were　told　about　her　lovers。　had　he　something　of　her　temperament　in　him？　these　oval；　heavy…lidded　eyes　seemed　to　look　curiously　at　him。　what　of　george　willoughby；　with　his　powdered　hair　and　fantastic　patches？　how　evil　he　looked！　the　face　was　saturnine　and　swarthy；　and　the　sensual　lips　seemed　to　be　twisted　with　disdain。　delicate　lace　ruffles　fell　over　the　lean　yellow　hands　that　were　so　overladen　with　rings。　he　had　been　a　macaroni　of　the　eighteenth　century；　and　the　friend；　in　his　youth；　of　lord　ferrars。　what　of　the　second　lord　beckenham；　the　panion　of　the　prince　regent　in　his　wildest　days；　and　one　of　the　witnesses　at　the　secret　marriage　with　mrs。　fitzherbert？　how　proud　and　handsome　he　was；　with　his　chestnut　curls　and　insolent　pose！　what　passions　had　he　bequeathed？　the　world　had　looked　upon　him　as　infamous。　he　had　led　the　orgies　at　carlton　house。　the　star　of　the　garter　glittered　upon　his　breast。　beside　him　hung　the　portrait　of　his　wife；　a　pallid；　thin…lipped　woman　in　black。　her　blood；　also；　stirred　within　him。　how　curious　it　all　seemed！　and　his　mother　with　her　lady　hamilton　face　and　her　moist；　wine…dashed　lips……he　knew　what　he　had　got　from　her。　he　had　got　from　her　his　beauty；　and　his　passion　for　the　beauty　of　others。　she　laughed　at　him　in　her　loose　bacchante　dress。　there　were　vine　leaves　in　her　hair。　the　purple　spilled　from　the　cup　she　was　holding。　the　carnations　of　the　painting　had　withered；　but　the　eyes　were　still　wonderful　in　their　depth　and　brilliancy　of　colour。　they　seemed　to　follow　him　wherever　he　went。
yet　one　had　ancestors　in　literature　as　well　as　in　ones　own　race；　nearer　perhaps　in　type　and　temperament；　many　of　them；　and　certainly　with　an　influence　of　which　one　was　more　absolutely　conscious。　there　were　times　when　it　appeared　to　dorian　gray　that　the　whole　of　history　was　merely　the　record　of　his　own　life；　not　as　he　had　lived　it　in　act　and　circumstance；　but　as　his　imagination　had　created　it　for　him；　as　it　had　been　in　his　brain　and　in　his　passions。　he　felt　that　he　had　known　them　all；　those　strange　terrible　figures　that　had　passed　across　the　stage　of　the　world　and　made　sin　so　marvellous　and　evil　so　full　of　subtlety。　it　seemed　to　him　that　in　some　mysterious　way　their　lives　had　been　his　own。
the　hero　of　the　wonderful　novel　that　had　so　influenced　his　life　had　himself　known　this　curious　fancy。　in　the　seventh　chapter　he　tells　how；　crowned　with　laurel；　lest　lightning　might　strike　him；　he　had　sat；　as　tiberius；　in　a　garden　at　capri；　reading　the　shameful　books　of　elephantis；　while　dwarfs　and　peacocks　strutted　round　him　and　the　flute…player　mocked　the　swinger　of　the　censer；　and；　as　caligula；　had　caroused　with　the　green…shirted　jockeys　in　their　stables　and　supped　in　an　ivory　manger　with　a　jewel…frontleted　horse；　and；　as　domitian；　had　wandered　through　a　corridor　lined　with　marble　mirrors；　looking　round　with　ha