按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
lord henry took up his hat and gloves。 〃you are very pressing； basil； but i am afraid i must go。 i have promised to meet a man at the orleans。 good…bye； mr。 gray。 e and see me some afternoon in curzon street。 i am nearly always at home at five oclock。 write to me when you are ing。 i should be sorry to miss you。〃
〃basil；〃 cried dorian gray； 〃if lord henry wotton goes； i shall go； too。 you never open your lips while you are painting； and it is horribly dull standing on a platform and trying to look pleasant。 ask him to stay。 i insist upon it。〃
〃stay； harry； to oblige dorian； and to oblige me；〃 said hallward； gazing intently at his picture。 〃it is quite true； i never talk when i am working； and never listen either； and it must be dreadfully tedious for my unfortunate sitters。 i beg you to stay。〃
〃but what about my man at the orleans？〃
the painter laughed。 〃i dont think there will be any difficulty about that。 sit down again； harry。 and now； dorian； get up on the platform； and dont move about too much； or pay any attention to what lord henry says。 he has a very bad influence over all his friends； with the single exception of myself。〃
dorian gray stepped up on the dais with the air of a young greek martyr； and made a little moue of discontent to lord henry； to whom he had rather taken a fancy。 he was so unlike basil。 they made a delightful contrast。 and he had such a beautiful voice。 after a few moments he said to him； 〃have you really a very bad influence； lord henry？ as bad as basil says？〃
〃there is no such thing as a good influence； mr。 gray。 all influence is immoralimmoral from the scientific point of view。〃
〃why？〃
〃because to influence a person is to give him ones own soul。 he does not think his natural thoughts； or burn with his natural passions。 his virtues are not real to him。 his sins； if there are such things as sins； are borrowed。 he bees an echo of some one elses music； an actor of a part that has not been written for him。 the aim of life is self…development。 to realize ones nature perfectlythat is what each of us is here for。 people are afraid of themselves； nowadays。 they have forgotten the highest of all duties； the duty that one owes to ones self。 of course； they are charitable。 they feed the hungry and clothe the beggar。 but their own souls starve； and are naked。 courage has gone out of our race。 perhaps we never really had it。 the terror of society； which is the basis of morals； the terror of god； which is the secret of religionthese are the two things that govern us。 and yet〃
〃just turn your head a little more to the right； dorian； like a good boy；〃 said the painter； deep in his work and conscious only that a look had e into the lads face that he had never seen there before。
〃and yet；〃 continued lord henry； in his low； musical voice； and with that graceful wave of the hand that was always so characteristic of him； and that he had even in his eton days； 〃i believe that if one man were to live out his life fully and pletely； were to give form to every feeling； expression to every thought； reality to every dreami believe that the world would gain such a fresh impulse of joy that we would forget all the maladies of mediaevalism； and return to the hellenic ideal to something finer； richer than the hellenic ideal； it may be。 but the bravest man amongst us is afraid of himself。 the mutilation of the savage has its tragic survival in the self…denial that mars our lives。 we are punished for our refusals。 every impulse that we strive to strangle broods in the mind and poisons us。 the body sins once； and has done with its sin； for action is a mode of purification。 nothing remains then but the recollection of a pleasure； or the luxury of a regret。 the only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it。 resist it； and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself； with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful。 it has been said that the great events of the world take place in the brain。 it is in the brain； and the brain only； that the great sins of the world take place also。 you； mr。 gray； you yourself； with your rose…red youth and your rose…white boyhood； you have had passions that have made you afraid； thoughts that have fined you with terror； day…dreams and sleeping dreams whose mere memory might stain your cheek with shame〃
〃stop！〃 faltered dorian gray； 〃stop！ you bewilder me。 i dont know what to say。 there is some answer to you； but i cannot 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 himwords 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