Transcript for:
Dorian Gray Bedtime Reading

hello there and welcome to this complete reading of The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde this is from my podcast called down to sleep where every week I read your favorite books as softly spoken bedtime stories to help you get a good night's rest and this is the YouTube channel so welcome and please do hit like And subscribe for more readings if you haven't already the best way to support this podcast and get more than 230 episodes right now including two new episodes every single week is to join me on patreon at patreon.com down to sleep that is the best place to hear the latest episodes of Hell's Moving Castle Twilight Lord of the Rings and more first off just a small disclaimer that this was one of the first books I ever read on the podcast I was still kind of practicing reading out loud and reading slower so the First episodes here may feel slightly sped up compared to what you're used to but I still wanted to share this Complete Book because it's one of my favorites and I read the whole thing so here it is for those who want to hear it for now let's talk human take a nice deep breath for me get down sleep chapter one The Studio was filled with the rich odor of roses and when the light Summer Wind stirred amidst the Trees of the garden there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac all the more delicate perfume of the pink flowering thorn from the corner of the Divan of Persian saddlebags on which he was lying smoking as was his custom innumerable cigarettes Lord Henry Watton could just catch The Gleam of the honey sweet and honey colored blossoms of other Laburnum whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able to Bear the burden of a beauty so flame-like as theirs and now and then the Fantastic Shadows of birds in Flight flitted across the long to saw silk curtains that were stretched in front of the huge window producing a kind of momentary Japanese effect and making him think of those pallet Jade face painters of Tokyo who through the medium of an art that is necessarily immobile seek to convey the sense of swiftness and motion the southern murmur of the bees shouldering their way through the long unknown grass or circling the monotonous insistence around the dusty Gilt horns of the straggling wood mine seemed to make the Stillness more oppressive the dim Roar of London the center of the room clamped to an upright easel stood the full-length portrait of a young man of extraordinary personal Beauty and in front of it some little distance away was sitting the artist himself basil hallwood whose sudden disappearance some years ago caused at the time such public excitement gave rise to so many strange conjectures as the painter looked at the gracious and comely form he had so skillfully mirrored in his art smile of pleasure passed across his face and seemed about to linger there but he suddenly started up and closing his eyes placed his fingers upon the lids as he sought to imprison within his brain some curious dream from which he feared he might awake it is your best work battle the best thing you have ever done said Lord Henry languidly you must certainly send it next year to the Grosvenor the academy is too large and too vulgar have gone there there can either so many people that I have not been able to see the pictures which was Dreadful also many pictures that I have not been able to see the people which was worse the Grosvenor is really the only place I don't think I shall send it anywhere he answered tossing his head back in that odd way that used to make his friends laugh at him at Oxford no I won't send it anywhere Lord Henry elevated his eyebrows and looked at him in amazement Through The Thin Blue wreaths of smoke that curled up in such plentiful worlds from his heavy opium tainted cigarette not send it anywhere my dear fellow why have you any reason what odd chaps you painters are you do anything in the world to gain a reputation as soon as you have one you seem to want to throw it away it is silly of you but there is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about and that is not being talked about a portrait like this would set you far above all the young men in England and make the old men quite jealous if old men are ever capable of any emotion I know you will laugh at me he replied but I can't really exhibit it I have put too much of myself into it Lord Henry stretched himself out on the Divine and laughed yes I knew you would but it is quite true or the same too much of yourself in it upon my word basil I didn't know you were so vain I really can't see any resemblance between you with your rugged strong face and cold black hair to this young Adonis looks as if he was made out of Ivory and rose leaves why my dear basil he is a narcissist and you well of course you have an intellectual expression and all that Beauty real Beauty ends were an intellectual expression begins intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration and destroys the harmony of any face the moment one sits down to think one becomes all nose or forehead for heck something horrid look at the successful men in any of the learning professions how perfectly hideous they are except of course in the church but in the church they don't think a bishop keeps on saying at the age of 80 what he was told to say when he was a boy of 18 and is a natural consequence he always looks absolutely delightful your mysterious young friend whose name you never told me but whose picture fascinates me never thinks I feel quite sure of that he's some brainless beautiful creature should be always here in Winter we have no flowers to look at and always here in summer something to chill our intelligence don't flatter yourself basil you are not in the least like him you don't understand me Harry answered the artist of course I'm not like him I know that perfectly well indeed I should be so sorry to look like him 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 faltering steps of Kings it is better not to be different from one's fellows the ugly and the stupid have the best of it in this world they can sit at their ease and gape at the plane 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 ring ruin upon others nor ever receive it from alien hands Rank and wealth Harry my brains such as they are my art whatever it may be worth Dorian Gray's 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 hallwood yes that is his name I didn't intend to tell it to you but why not oh I can't explain when I like people immensely I never tell their names to anyone it's like surrendering a part of them I've grown to secrecy seems to be the one thing that can make Modern Life mysterious or marvelous to us the commonest thing is delightful if only one hides it when I leave town now I never tell people where I'm going if I did I would lose all my pleasure it is a silly habit I dare say but sometimes it seems to bring a great deal of romance into one's 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 and we dine out together or go down to the Dukes 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 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 strolling towards the door that led him to the garden I believe that you are really a very good husband you are thoroughly ashamed of your own virtues you are an extraordinary fellow you never see a moral thing but you never do a wrong thing your cynicism is simply a pose being natural is simply a pose in the most irritating pose I know prior Lord Henry laughing and the two young men went into the garden together and ensconced themselves on a long bamboo seat stood in the shade of a tall Laurel bush the sunlight slipped with the polished leaves in the grass like daisies were tremulous after a pause Lord Henry pulled out his watch I'm 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 that said the painter keeping his eyes fixed on the ground you know quite well if you're not Harry well I will tell you what it is I want you to explain to me why you won't exhibit Dorian Gray's 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 hallwood looking at him straight in the face every portrait that is painted with feeling as 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 won the colored 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 tell you said hold it hold it but an expression of perplexity came over his face I'm all expectation battle continued His companion glancing at him all there is really very little to tell Harry and I'm afraid he will hardly understand it perhaps hardly believe it Henry smiled and leaning down plucked a pink petal 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 disc and as for believing things I can believe anything provided it's 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 the grasshopper began to cheer up by the wall and like a blue thread along thin dragonfly floated past on its Brown gauze wings Lord Henry felt as if he could hear basil Hall it's heartbeating and wondered what was coming story is simply this said the painter after some time two months ago I went to a crush at lady Brandon's you know we poor artists have to show ourselves in society from time to time just to remind the public that we are not Savages with an evening coat and a white tie as you told me once anybody even a stock broker can gain a reputation for being civilized well after I had been in the room about 10 minutes talking to huge overdressed damages and tedious academicians I suddenly became conscious that someone was looking at me halfway around and saw Dorian Gray for the first time when our eyes met I felt that I was growing pale curious sensation of Terror came over me I knew that I had come face to face with someone whose mere personality was so fascinating that if I allowed it to do so it would absorb my whole nature the whole soul my very art itself I did not want any external influence in my life you know yourself Harry how independent I am by Nature I have always been my own master had at least always been so till I met Dorian Gray then but I don't know how to explain it to you some things seemed to tell me that I was on the verge of a terrible crisis in my life I had a strange feeling that fate had in store for me Exquisite Joys and exquisite sorrows I grew afraid turned to quit the room it was not conscience that made me do so it was a sort of cowardice I take no credit to myself for trying to escape conscience and cowardice are really the same things basil conscience is the trade name of the firm that's all I don't believe that Harry and I don't believe you do either however whatever was my motive and it may have been Pride for I used to be very proud I certainly struggled to the door there of course I stumbled against lady Brandon you're not going to run away so soon Mr hallwood she screamed out you know her curiously shrill voice yes she's a peacock and everything the beauty said Lord Henry pulling the daisy to bits with long nervous fingers could not get rid of her she brought me up to royalties and people with stars and garters and elderly ladies with gigantic Tiaras and parrot noses who spoke of me as her dearest friend and I know they met her once before but she took it into her head to lionize me I believe some picture of mine had made a great success at the time at least had been chatted about in the penny newspapers which is the 19th century standard of immortality suddenly I found myself face to face with the young man whose personality and so strangely stirred me you were quite close almost touching our eyes met again it was Reckless of me but I asked Lady Brandon to introduce me to him perhaps it was not so reckless after all it was simply inevitable we would have spoken to each other without any introduction I'm sure of that Dorian told me so afterwards he too felt that we were destined and how did Lady Brandon describe this wonderful young man asked His companion I know she goes in for giving a rapid Praise of all her guests I remember her bringing me up to a truculent and red-faced Old Gentleman covered all over with orders and ribbons and hissing in my ear in tragic whisper step in perfectly audible to everybody in the room the most astounding details I simply fled I like to find out people for myself but lady Brandon treats her guests exactly as an Auctioneer treats his Goods she either explains them entirely a whale tells one everything about them except what one wants to know or lady Brandon you are hard on her Harry said would listlessly my dear fellow she tried to found a salon and only succeeded in opening a restaurant how could I admire her but tell me what did she say about Mr Dorian praying oh something like Charming boy poor dear Mother and I absolutely Inseparable and quite forget what he does afraid he doesn't do anything oh yes plays the the violin day Mr Gray neither of us could help laughing and we became friends at once laughter is not at all a Bad Beginning for a friendship and it is far the best ending for one said the young Lord plucking another Daisy Allwood shook his head you don't understand what friendship is Harry he murmured or what enmity is for that matter you like everyone that is to say you are indifferent to everyone probably unjust if you cried Lord Henry tilting his hat back and looking up at the little clouds that like raveled skeins of glossy white silk were drifting across the hollowed turquoise of the summer sky it's horribly unjustified and make a great difference between people choose my friends for their good looks my acquaintances for their good characters and my enemies for their good intellects not be too careful in the choice of his enemies I've not got one who is a fool they are all men of some intellectual power and consequently they all appreciate me is that very vein of me I think it is I should think it was Harry but according to your category I must be merely an acquaintance my dear old basil you are much more than acquaintance and much less than a friend a sort of brother I suppose oh Brothers I don't care for brothers my older brother won't die my younger brother never seemed to do anything else Harry exclaimed Hollywood frowning my dear fellow I am not quite serious but I can't help detesting My Relations I suppose it comes from the fact that none of us can stand other people having the same faults as ourselves I quite sympathize with the Rage of the English democracy against what they call the vices of the upper orders the masses feel that drunkenness stupidity and immorality should be their own special property and that if any one of us makes an ass of himself he's poaching on their preserves when poor southwark got into Divorce Court their indignation was quite magnificent and yet I don't suppose the 10 of the proletariat lived correctly I don't agree with a single word that you said and what is more Harry I feel sure that you don't either Lord Henry stroked his pointed Brown beard and tapped the toe of his paint and leather boot with a tassel ebony Kane how English you are basil it's the second time you've made that observation if one puts forward an idea to a true Englishman always a rash thing to do he never dreams of considering whether the idea is right or wrong the only thing he considers of any importance is whether One Believes it oneself the value of an idea has nothing whatsoever to do with the sincerity of the man who expresses it indeed the probability so that the more insincere the man is more purely intellectual with the atarb As in that case it will not be colored by either his wants his desires or his prejudices however I don't propose to discuss politics sociology or metaphysics with you persons better than principles and I like persons with no principles better than anything else in the world tell me more about Mr Dorian Gray how often do you see him every day I couldn't be happy if I didn't see him every day he is absolutely necessary to me how extraordinary I thought you would never care for anything but your art he is all my art to me now said the painter painterly sometimes think Harry that there are only two eras of any importance in the world's history fast is the appearance of a new medium for art the second is the appearance of a new personality for art also what the invention of oil painting was to the venetians the face of Antonius was to late Greek sculpture in the face of Dorian Gray will someday be to me it is not merely that I paint from him draw from him sketch from him of course I have done all that he is much more to me than a model or a sitter I won't tell you that I am dissatisfied with what I have done of him or that his beauty is such that art cannot express it there is nothing that art cannot express and I know that the work I have done since I met Dorian Gray's good work the best work of my life but some Curious way will you understand me his personality has suggested to me an entirely new manner in art an entirely new mode of style I see things differently think of them differently can now recreate life in a way that was hidden from me before a dream of Foreman days of thought who is it who says that I forget but it is what Dorian Gray has been to me merely visible presence of this land for he seems to me a little more than a ladder though he is really over 20. his merely visible presence I wonder if you can realize all that means unconsciously he defines for me the lines of a fresh school a school that is to have in it all the passion of the Romantic spirit Perfection of the spirit that is Greek the harmony of soul and body how much that is we in our Madness have separated the two and have invented a realism that is vulgar an ideality that is void Harry if you only knew what Dorian Gray is to me you remember that landscape of mine for which agne offered me such a huge price but which I would not park with it is one of the best things I have ever done and why is it so because while I was painting it Dorian Gray sat beside me some subtle influence passed from him to me and for the first time in my life I saw in the plane Woodland the Wonder I had always looked for and always missed as all this is extraordinary I must see Dorian Gray Allwood got up from the seat and walked up and down the garden after some time he came back Dorian Gray is to me simply a motif in art you might see nothing in him I see everything in him he is never more present in my work than when no image of him is there he is a suggestion as I have said of a new manner I find him in the curves of certain lines loveliness and subtleties of certain colors that is all then why won't you exhibit his portrait asked Lord Henry because without intending it I have put into it some expression of all this curious artistic idolatry of which of course I have never cared to speak to him he knows nothing about it he shall never know anything about it but the world might guess it and I will not bear my soul to their shallow prying eyes my heart shall never be put under their microscope there is too much of myself in the thing Harry too much of myself poets are not so scrupulous as you are they know how useful passion is for publication nowadays a broken heart will run to many additions I hate them for it cried hallwood an artist should create beautiful things but should put nothing of his own life into them we live in an age where men treat art as if it were meant to be a form of autobiography we've lost the abstract sense of beauty someday I will show the world what it is for that reason the world shall never see my Portrait of Dorian Gray I think you're a wrong basil but I won't argue with you the intellectually lost to ever argue tell me is Dorian Gray very fond of you painter considered for a few moments he likes me he answered after a pause I know he likes me of course I flatter him dreadfully I find a strange pleasure in saying things to him that I know I shall be sorry for having said as a rule he's Charming to me and we sit in the studio and talk of a thousand things now and then however he's horribly Thoughtless and seems to take a real Delight in giving me pain then I feel Harry that I've given away my whole soul to someone who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat a bit of a decoration to charm his vanity an ornament for a summer's day is in summer basilar apt to linga murmured Lord Henry perhaps you will Tire sooner than he will it's a sad thing to think of but there is no doubt that genius lasts longer than beauty that accounts for the fact that we all take such pains to over-educate ourselves in the wild struggle for existence we want to have something that endures and so we fill our minds with rubbish and facts and the silly hope of keeping our place the thoroughly well-informed man that is the modern ideal and the mind of the thoroughly well-informed man is a Dreadful thing like a brick-a-brac shop all monsters and dust with everything priced above its proper value will Tire first all the same someday you will look at your friend and he will seem to you to be a little out of drawing but you won't like his tone of color or something you will mentally reproach him and you aren't hot and seriously think that he has behaved very badly to you the next time he calls you will be perfectly cold and indifferent it will be a great pity for it will take what you have told me is quite a romance a romance of art one might call it and the worst of having a romance of any kind is that it leaves one so unromantic Harry don't talk like that as long as I live the personality of Dorian Gray will dominate me you can't feel what I feel you change too often oh my dear basil that is exactly why I can feel it those who are faithful know only the trivial side of love faithless Uno loves tragedies and Lord Henry struck a light on a dainty silver case and began to smoke a cigarette with a self-conscious and satisfied heir as if he had summed up the world in a phrase there was a rustle of chirping sparrows in the green lacquer leaves of the Ivy and the blue cloud Shadows chased themselves across the grass like swallows how pleasant it was in the garden and how delightful other people's emotions were much more delightful than their ideas it seemed to him one's own soul and the passions of one's friends those were the fascinating things in life he pictured to himself with silent Amusement the tedious luncheon that he had missed by staying on so long with basil hallwood had he gone to his arms he would have been sure to have met Lord good body there and the whole conversation would have been about the feeding of the poor and the necessity for model lodging houses class would have preached the importance of those virtues for whose exercise there was no necessity in their own lives the rich would have spoken on the value of thrift in the idol grown eloquent over the Dignity of Labor it was Charming to have escaped all that as he thought of his aunts and ideas seemed to strike him he turned to hallwood and said my dear fellow I have just remembered remembered what Harry where I heard the name of Dorian Gray where was it asked holwood with a slight frown don't look so angry basil it was at my Aunt lady Agatha's she told me that she had discovered a wonderful young man who was going to help her in the East End and that his name was Dorian Gray I'm bound to state that she never told me he was good looking women have no appreciation of good looks at least good women have not she said that he was very Earnest and had a beautiful nature I had once pictured to myself a creature with spectacles and lank hair horribly freckled and tramping about on huge feet I wish I had known it was your friend I'm very glad you didn't Harry why I don't want you to meet him you don't want me to meet him no Mr Dorian Gray is in the studio sir said the butler coming into the garden you must introduce me now cried Lord Henry laughing the painter turned to his servant who stood blinking in the sunlight ask Mr great await Parker I shall be in in a few minutes the man bowed and went up the walk then he looked at Lord Henry Dorian Gray is my dearest friend he said he has a simple and beautiful nature your aunt was quite right in what she said of him spoil him don't try to influence him your influence would be bad the world is wide and has many marvelous people in it don't take away from me the one person who gives to my art would have a charm It possesses my life as an artist depends on him mind Harry I trust you he spoke very slowly and the words seemed rung out of him almost against his will what nonsense you talk said Lord Henry smiling and taking hold it by the arm he almost led him into the house two as they entered they saw Dorian Gray seated at the piano with his back to them turning over the pages of Olio schumann's Forest scenes you must lend me these basil he cried I want to learn them they're perfectly Charming that entirely depends on how you sit today Dorian I am tired of sitting and I don't want a life-size portrait of myself answered the lads swinging around on the music store in a willful petulant manner when he caught sight of Lord Henry a faint blush colored his cheeks for a moment and he started up your pardon as all but I didn't know you had anyone with you this is Lord Henry Wilton Dorian an old Oxford friend of mine I have just been telling him what a capital city you are and now you've spoiled everything you've not spoiled my pleasure in meeting you Mr Gray said Lord Henry stepping forward and extending his hand my aunt has often spoke to me about you you're one of her favorites and I'm afraid one of her victims also I am in lady Agatha's Black Books at present on said Dorian with a funny look of penitence to go to a club in White Chapel with her last Tuesday and I really forgot all about it we were to have played a duet together three Duets I believe I don't know what she will say to me I'm far too frightened to call oh I will make your peace with my aunt she's quite devoted to you and I don't really realize about you're not being there the audience probably thought it was a duet when on Agatha sits down to the piano and she makes quite enough noise for two people that is very hard to her and not very nice to me on some Dorian laughing Lord Henry looked at him yes he was certainly wonderfully handsome with his finely curved Scarlet lips his Frank blue eyes his crisp gold hair there was something in his face that made one trust him all the Candor of Youth was there as well as youth's passionate purity one felt that he had kept himself unspotted from the world her Wonder basil hallwood worshiped him he were too Charming to go in for philanthropy Mr Gray far too Charming and Lord Henry flung himself down on the Divan and opened his cigarette case the painter had been busy mixing his colors and getting his brushes ready was looking worried when he heard Lord Henry's last remark he glanced at him hesitated for a moment and then said Harry I want to finish this picture today would you think it awfully rude of me if I asked you to go girl Lord Henry smiled and looked at Dorian Gray am I to go Mr Gray he asked oh please don't Lord Henry I see that basil is when one of his sulky moods and I can't bear him when he sulks besides I want you to tell me why I should not go in for philanthropy I don't know that I shall tell you that Mr Gray it's so tedious a subject that one would have to talk seriously about it but I certainly shall not run away now that you have asked me to stop you don't really mind basil do you you've often told me that you liked your sitters to have someone to chat to Paul would bet his lip Dorian wishes it of course you must stay dorian's whims are laws to everybody but himself Lord Henry took up his hat and gloves you are very pressing bezel but I'm afraid I must go I promise to meet a man at the Orleans Goodbye Mr Gray come and see me some afternoon and curse on Street I'm nearly always at home at five o'clock right to me when you're coming I should be sorry to miss you if Lord Henry woden goes I shall go to 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 say Harry to avoid Dorian and to oblige me he said hallwood gazing intently at his picture it is quite true I never talk when I'm working and I never listen either and it must be dreadfully tedious on my unfortunate sitters I beg you to stay but what about my man at the Orleans the painter laughed I don't think there will be any difficulty about that sit down again Harry and now Dorian get up on the platform and don't move about too much or pay any attention to what Lord Henry says a very bad influence over all his friends with the single exception of myself Dorian Gray stepped up on the days with the air of a young Greek martyr and made the little move 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 maybe really a very bad influence Lord Henry is mad as basil says there's no such thing as a good influence Mr Gray all influences immoral immoral from a scientific point of view why because to influence a person is to give him one's own soul he does not think his natural thoughts will burn with his natural passions his virtues are not real to him his sins if there are such things as sins are borrowed he becomes an echo of someone else's music and actor of a part that has not been written for him aim of life is self-development to realize one's nature perfectly that is what each of us is here for people are afraid of themselves nowadays the forgotten the highest of all duties the duty that one owes to oneself of course they are charitable they feed the hungry and clothed the beggar their own soul starve and a 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 the secret of religion legit these 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 could come into the LED's face that he had never seen there before and yet continued Lord Henry and his low musical voice and with that grateful wave of the hand that was always so characteristic of him that he had even in his eating days I believe that if one man were to live out his life fully and completely to give form to every feeling expression to every thought reality to every dream I believe the world would gain such a fresh impulse of joy that we would forget all the miladies that 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 as a mode of purification nothing remains then but the recollection of 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 long 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 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 ready Youth and your rose white Boyhood you have had passions that have made you afraid thoughts that have filled you with Terror Daydreams and sleeping dreams whose memory might stain your cheek with shame stop full to Dorian Grace stop you bewilder me I don't know what to say there is some answer to you but I cannot find it don't speak let me think or rather let me try not to think for nearly 10 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 they seemed to have come really from himself few words that Basil's friend had said to him words spoken by chance no doubt and with willful Paradox in them had touched some secret chord but had never been touched before that he felt was now vibrating and throbbing to curious pulses music had stirred him like that music had troubled him many times 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 seem to be able to give a plastic form to formless things and to have a music of their own as sweet as that of a viola or overlooked was there anything surreal as words yes there had been things in his Boyhood that he had not understood he understood them now life suddenly became fiery colored to 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 that precise psychological moment went to say nothing he felt intensely interested he was amazed at the sudden impression his words had produced remembering a book he had read when he was 16. a book which 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 that was hallwood painted away with the marvelous bold Touch of his that had the true refinement and perfect delicacy that in art at any rate only comes from strength he was unconscious of the silence basil I'm tired of standing cried Dorian Gray suddenly I must go out and sit in the garden the air is stifling here fellow I'm so sorry when I'm painting I can't 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 don't know what Harry's been saying to you but he's certainly made you have the most wonderful expression I suppose he's been paying you compliments you mustn't believe a word he says he has certainly not been paying me compliments perhaps that is the reason I don't believe anything he has told me you know you believe it all said Lord Henry looking at him with dreamy langerous eyes we'll go out to the garden with you it is horribly hot in the studio also let us have something iced to drink something with strawberries in it certainly Harry just touched the Bell when Parker comes I will tell him what you want I've got to work up this background so I will join you later on don't keep Dorian too long I've never been in better form for painting than I am today 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 became close to him 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 kill the senses with the soul the lad started and Drew back he was bare-handed in the leaves 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 finely chiseled nostrils quivered and some hidden uh 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 colored face and worn expression interested him there was something in his low language voice that was absolutely fascinating cool white flower like 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 hallwood for months the friendship between them had never altered him suddenly there had come someone across his life who seemed to have disclosed to him life's mystery and yet 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 park has brought out the drinks and if you stay any longer in this glare you'll be quite spoiled and basil will never paint you again you really must not allow yourself to become sunburnt it would be Unbecoming 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 marvelous youth is the one thing worth having I don't feel that Lord Henry no you don't feel it now someday when you're 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 harm the world will it always be so you have a wonderfully beautiful face Mr Gray don't frown you have and beauty is a form of Genius it's higher indeed than genius it needs no explanation it is one of the great facts of the world like sunlight or Springtime or the reflection in dark Waters of that silver shell that we call the Moon be questioned it has its divine right of sovereignty it makes princes of those who have it smile I wonder when you've lost it you won't smile people say sometimes that beauty is only superficial that may be so but at least it is not so superficial as thought to me beauty is The Wonder of Wonders it is only shallow people who do not judge by appearance the true mystery of the world is the visible not the invisible yes Mr Gray the gods have been good to you but what the gods have given you they will quickly take away we have only a few years in which to live really perfectly and fully when your youth goes your beauty will go with it and then you will suddenly discover that there are no triumphs left for you or have to contend yourself with those mean triumphs of the memory of your past will make more better than defeats every month as it wanes brings you nearer to something Dreadful time is jealous of you and Wars against your lilies and roses you will become sallow hollow-cheeked Delight you will suffer horribly ah realize your youth while you have it don't squander the gold of your days listening to the tedious trying to improve the Hopeless failure or giving away your life to the ignorant the common in the vulgar these are sickly aims the false ideals of our age live live the wonderful life that is in you let nothing be lost upon you be always searching for New Sensations be afraid of nothing that is what our Sentry wants you might be its visible symbol with your personality there is nothing you could not do the world belongs to you for a season moment I met you I saw that you were quite unconscious of what you really are what you really might be there was so much in you that you Charmed me that I felt I must tell you something about yourself I thought how tragic it would be if you were wasted for there is such a little time that your youth will last such little time the common Hill Flowers wither the Laburnum will be as yellow next June as it is now in a month stars on the clematis in year after year the green night of its leaves will hold its purple stars but we never get back our youth pulse of joy that beat in us at 20 becomes sluggish our limbs fail our senses what we degenerate into hideous puppets haunted by the memory of the passions of which we were too much afraid and the Exquisite temptations that we had not the courage to yield to youth youth there is absolutely nothing in the world but youth Dorian Gray listened open-eyed and wondering the spray of lilac fell from his hand upon the gravel the furryby came and buzzed around it for a moment and began to scramble all over the oval's dilated globe of the tiny blossoms he watched it with that strange interest in Trivial things that we tried to develop when the things of high import make us afraid when we stirred up by some new emotion which we cannot find expression when some thought that terrifies us lays sudden Siege to the brain and calls on us to yield after a Time the bee flew away he saw it creeping into the stained trumpet of a Tyrion convolvulus the flower seemed to quiver and then swayed gently to and frown suddenly the painter appeared at the door of the studio and made staccato signs for them to come in they turned to each other and smiled I'm waiting he cried do come in the light is quite perfect and you can bring your drinks they rose up and saunted down the walk together two green white butterflies fluttered past them trade the cold thrush began to end you were glad to have met me Mr Gray said Lord Henry looking at him yes I am glad now I wonder shall I always be glad always that is a dreadful word it makes me shudder when I hear it women are so fond of using it they spoil every Romance by trying to make it last forever it's a meaningless word too the only difference between a Caprice and a lifelong passion is that the Caprice lasts a little longer as they entered the studio Dorian Gray put his hand upon Lord Henry's arm in that case let our friendship be a Caprice he murmured flushing at his own boldness and stepped up on the platform and resumed I suppose as they entered the studio Dorian Gray put his hand upon Lord Henry's arm in that case let our friendship be a Caprice he murmured flashing at his own boldness then stepped up on the platform and resumed his pose Lord Henry flung himself into a large wicker armchair and watched him the brush on the canvas made the only sound that broke the Stillness except when now and then hallwood stepped back to look at his work from a distance in the slanting beams that streamed through the open doorway the dust danced and was golden the heavy scent of the Roses seemed to have brood over everything after about a quarter of an hour hallwood stopped painting looked for a long time at Dorian Gray and then for a long time at the picture biting the end of one of his huge brushes and frowning it is quite finished he cried at last and stooping down he wrote his name in Long Vermilion letters on the left hand corner of the canvas Lord Henry came over and examined the picture it was certainly a wonderful work of art and a wonderful likeness as well my dear fellow I congratulate you most warmly he said it's the finest portrait of modern times Mr Gray come over and look at yourself the lad started as if awakened from some dream is it really finished imamed stepping down from the platform quite finished said the painter and you have sat splendidly today I'm awfully obliged to you that's entirely true to me broken Lord Henry isn't it Mr Gray Dorian made no answer but asked listlessly in front of the picture and turned towards it when he saw it he drew back his cheeks flushed for a moment with pleasure the look of Joy came into his eyes as if he had recognized himself for the first time he stood there motionless and in Wonder dimly conscious that holwood was speaking to him but not catching the meaning of his words the sense of his own Beauty came on him like a revelation he had never felt it before basil hallwood's compliments it seemed to him to be merely the Charming exaggeration of friendship he had listened to them laughed at them forgotten them they had not influenced his nature then had come Lord Henry woden with his strange panagiric on youth this terrible warning of its brevity the had starred him at the time and now as he stood gazing at the shadow of his own loveliness the full reality of the description flashed across him yes there would be a day when his face would be wrinkled and wisen his eyes dim and colorless the grace of his figure broken and deformed the Scarlet would pass away from his lips and the gold steel from his hair life that was to make his soul would Mar his body he would become Dreadful hideous and uncouth at the thought of it a sharp Pang of pain struck through him like a knife and made his delicate fiber of his nature clever his eyes deepened into amethyst a mist of Tears he felt as if a hand of ice had been laid upon his heart don't you like it cried halt would at last stung a little by the lead silence not understanding what it meant of course he likes it said Lord Henry who wouldn't like it it's one of the greatest things in modern art I'll give you anything you like to ask for it I must have it it's not my property Harry whose property is it dorians of course answered the painter he's a very lucky fellow that it is mermaid Dorian Gray with his eyes still fixed upon his own portrait how sad it is I shall grow old and horrible and Dreadful but this picture will remain always Young it will never be older than this particular day of June if it were only the other way if it were I who were to always be young and the picture that was to grow old for that for that I would give everything yes there is nothing in the whole world I would not give I would give my soul for that you would hardly care for such an arrangement basil cried Lord Henry laughing it would be rather hard lines on your work I should object very strongly Harry said hallwood Dorian Gray turned and looked at him I believe you would basil you like your art better than your friends more to you than a Green Bronze figure hardly as much I dare say the painter stared in amazement it was so unlike Dorian to speak like that what had happened he seemed quite angry his face was flushed and his cheeks burning yes he continued and less to you than your Ivory Hermes or your silver fawn you will like them always how long will you like me till I have my first wrinkle I suppose I know now that when one loses one's good looks whatever they may be one loses everything your picture has taught me that Lord Henry Wooten is perfectly right youth is the only thing worth having when I find that I'm growing old I shall kill myself hallwood turned pale and caught his hand Dorian Dorian he cried don't talk like that I have never had such a friend as you and I shall never have such another you were not jealous of material things are you you are you who are finer than any of them I'm jealous of everything his Beauty does not die I'm jealous of the portrait you have painted of me why should it keep what I must lose every moment that passes takes something from me and gives something to it oh if it were only the other way if the picture could change and I could be always what I am now why did you did you mock me someday mock me horribly the hot tears welled into his eyes he tore his hand away and flinging himself on the van buried his face in the cushions as though he was praying this is your doing Harry said the painter bitterly Lord Henry Shrugged his shoulders it is the real Dorian Gray that is all it is not if it is not then what have I got to do with it you should have gone away when I asked you he mattered I stayed when you asked me was Lord Henry's answer Harry I can't quarrel with my two best friends at once but between you both you have made me hate the finest piece of work I have ever done and I will destroy it what is it but canvas and color I'll let it come across our three lives and Mar them Dorian Gray lifted his golden head from the pillow and with pallid face and tear stained eyes looked at him as he walked over to the Deal Painting table that was set beneath the high curtained window what was he doing there his fingers were straying about among the letter of tin tubes and dry brushes King for something as for the long palette knife with its thin blade of light steel he had found it at last he was going to rip up the canvas with a stifled SOB the lad leapt from the Crouch and rushing over to horwood tore the knife out of his hands flung it to the end of the studio don't basil don't he cried it would be murder I'm glad you appreciate my work at last Dorian said the painter coldly when he had recovered from his surprise he never thought you would appreciate it I am in love with it basil it is part of myself I feel that well as soon as you are dry you shall be varnished and framed and sent home then you can do what you liked with yourself and he walked across the room and rang the bell for tea you will have tea of course Dorian and so will you Harry what do you object to such Simple Pleasures I adore Simple Pleasures said Lord Henry they are the last Refuge of the complex but I don't like scenes except on the stage but absurd fellows you are both of you I wonder if it was defined man is rational animal it is the most premature definition ever given and is many things but he is not rational I'm glad he is not after all though I wish you chaps would not squabble over the picture you'd better much let me have it puzzle this silly boy doesn't really want it and I really do if you let anyone have it but me puzzle I shall never forgive you crying Dorian Gray and I don't allow people to call me a silly boy you know the picture is yours Dorian I gave it to you before it existed and you know you have been a little silly Mr Gray that you don't really object to being reminded that you are extremely young I should have objected very strongly this morning Lord Henry ah this morning you have lived since then there came a knock at the door and the butler entered with a laden tea tray set it down upon a small Japanese table there was a rattle of Cups and sauces and the hissing of a fluted Georgian urn two Globe shaped china dishes were brought in by a page Dorian Gray went over and poured out the tea the two men saunted languidly to the table and examined what was under the covers let us go to the theater tonight said Lord Henry there is sure to be something on somewhere I have promised to die and it waits but it's with an old friend I can send him a wire to say I'm Ill or the time prevented from coming in consequence of a subsequent engagement I think that would be a rather nice excuse they would have all the surprise of candor it is such a bore putting on one's dress clothes but at Allwood and when one has them on they're so horrid yes answered Lord Henry dreamily the costume of the 19th century is detestable it is so somber so depressing sin is the only real color element left in Modern Life you really must not say things like that before Dorian Harry before witch Dorian the one who is pouring out tea for us or the one in the picture before either I should like to come to the theater with you Lord Henry said the lad then you shall come and you will come to Basil won't you I can't really I would sooner not I have a lot of work to do well then you and I will go alone Mr Gray I should like that awfully the painter bit his lip and walked over Cup in hand to the picture I shall stay with the real Dorian he said sadly is it the real Dorian cried the original of the portrait strolling across to him am I really like that yes you are just like that how wonderful puzzle at least you are in an appearance but it will never alter that is something what a fuss people make about Fidelity exclaimed Lord Henry why even in love it is purely a question for physiology it has nothing to do with our own will young men want to be faithful and are not old men want to be faithless and cannot that is all one can say don't go to the theater tonight Dorian said holwood stop and dine with me I can't battle why because I've promised Lord Henry woden to go with him he won't like you the better for keeping your promises he always breaks his own I beg you not to go Dorian Gray laughed and shook his head I entreat you the lad hesitated and looked over at Lord Henry who was watching them from the tea table with an amused smile he answered very well said holwood and he went over and laid down with his cup on the tray it's rather late unless you have to dress you would better lose no time goodbye Harry goodbye Dorian come and see me soon come tomorrow certainly you won't forget no of course not hi Dorian and Harry yes basil remember what I asked you when we were in the garden this morning I've forgotten it I trust you I wish I could trust myself said Lord Henry laughing come Mr Gray my handsome is outside and I can drop you at your own place goodbye basil it's been the most interesting afternoon as the door closed behind them the painter flung himself down on a sofa the look of pain came into his face chapter 3. at half past 12 the next day Lord Henry woden strolled from the curse on street over to the Albany to call on his uncle Lord farmer a genial if somewhat rough man at Old Bachelor whom the outside world called selfish but does it drive no particular benefit from him but it was considered generous by society as he fed the people who amused him his father had been our ambassador at Madrid when Isabella was young and Prim unthought of had retired from the Diplomatic service in a capricious moment of annoyance are not being offered to the Embassy of Paris opposed to which he considered that he was fully entitled by reason of his birth his indolence that had English of his dispatches and his inordinate passion for pleasure the son who had been his father's secretary had resigned along with his chief somewhat foolishly as was thought at the time and on succeeding some months later to the title had set himself to the serious study of the great aristocratic art of doing absolutely nothing had two large townhouses but preferred to live in Chambers as it was less trouble and took most of his meals at his Club he paid some attention to the management of his collieries in the Midland counties excusing himself for this taint of Industry on the ground but the one advantage of having coal was that it enabled the gentleman to afford the decency of burning wood on his own hearth in politics he was a Tory except when the Tories were in office during which he roundly abused them for being a pack of radicals he was a hero to his valet who bullied him and a terror to most of his relations whom he bullied in turn only England could have produced him and he always said that the country was going to the dogs his principles were out of date there was a good deal to be said for his prejudices when Lord Henry entered the room he found his uncle sitting in a rough shooting coat smoking a charout and grumbling over the times well Harry said the Old Gentleman what brings you out so early I thought you Dandy's never got up till two were not visible till five pure family affection I assure you Uncle George I want to get something out of you money I suppose said Lord farmer making a rye face well sit down and tell me about it young people nowadays imagine that money is everything yes Mom as Lord Henry settling his buttonhole into his coat and when they grow older they know it but I don't want money it's only people who pay their bills who want that Uncle George and I never pay mine credit is the capital of the younger Son and one lives charmingly upon it besides I always deal with dartmoor's Tradesmen and consequently they never bothered me what I want is information not useful information of course useless information well I can tell you anything that's in an English Blue Book Harry although those fellows nowadays write a lot of nonsense when I was in the Diplomatic things were much better but I hear they let them in now by examination what can you expect examinations pure humbug from beginning to end if a man is a gentleman he knows quite enough and if he's not a gentleman whatever he knows is bad for him Mr Dorian Gray does not belong to Blue Book's Uncle George said Lord Henry languidly Mr Dorian Gray who is he ask Lord firmer knitting his bushy white eyebrows that is what I've come to learn Uncle George or rather I know who he is he is the last of Lord Kelso's grandson his mother was a Deborah lady Margaret devro I want you to tell me about his mother what was she like whom did she marry you may have known nearly everybody in your time so you might have known her I'm very much interested in Mr Gray at present and I've only just met him Kelso's grandson echoed the Old Gentleman Kelso's grandson of course I knew his mother intimately I believe I was at her christening she was an extraordinarily beautiful girl Margaret Deveraux and made all the men frantic by running away with a penniless young fellow a mere nobody sir a sub-altern in a foot regiment or something of that kind so that's something I remember the whole thing as if it happened yesterday poor chap was killed in a duel at a spa a few months after the marriage there was an ugly story about him they said Kelso got some rascally Adventurer some Belgian brute to insult his son-in-law in public paid him sir to do it paid him the fellow smitted his man as if he had been a pigeon thing was hushed up but he got Kelso ate his chop alone at the club for some time afterwards he brought his daughter back with him I was told she never spoke to him again oh yes bad business the girl died died within a year so left a son did she I'd forgotten that what sort of boy is he if he's like his mother he must be a good-looking chap he is very good looking assented Lord Henry I hope he'll fall into proper hands continued the old man he should have a pot of money waiting for him if Kelso did the right thing by him his mother had money too all the Selby property came to her through her grandfather her grandfather hated Kelso thought him a mean dog he wants to came to Madrid once when I was there he got I was ashamed of him the queen used to ask me about the English Noble was always quarreling with the campman about their Affairs they made quite a story of it I didn't dare show my face at court for a month I heard me treated his grandson better than he did the Jarvis I don't know answered Lord Henry I fancy that the boy will be well off he's not of age yet he has Selby I know he told me so and his mother was very beautiful Margaret devro was one of the loveliest creatures I ever saw Harry her to behave as she did I never could understand she could have married anybody she chose Harlington was mad after her she was romantic though all the women of that family were the men were a poor lock but he got the women were wonderful carlington went on to his knees to her told me so himself she laughed at him and there wasn't a girl in London at the time it wasn't after him by the way Harry talking about silly marriages what does this humbug your father tells me about Dart War wanting to marry an American I mean English girls good enough for him it's rather fashionable to marry Americans just now Uncle George I'll back English women against the world Harry said Lord Firma striking his table with his fist the betting is on the Americans they don't last I'm told muttered his uncle a long engagement exhausts them but their Capital at a Steeplechase they take things flying I don't think Dartmoor has a chance who were her people crumbled the Old Gentleman has she got any thought Henry shook his head American girls are as clever at concealing their parents as English women aren't concealing their past he said rising to go they are pork Packers I suppose I hope so Uncle George for dartmoore's sake I'm told that pork packing is the most lucrative profession in America after politics is she pretty she behaves as if she was beautiful most American women do it's the secret of their charm why can't these American women stay in their own country always telling us that it's the paradise for women it is that's the reason why like Eve they are so excessively anxious to get out of it said Lord Henry goodbye Uncle George I shall be late for lunch if I stop any longer thanks for giving me the information I wanted I always like to know everything about my new friends and nothing about my old ones where are you lunching Harry but aren't Agatha's I've asked myself and Mr Gray he's her latest protege until you're on Agatha Harry not to bother me anymore with her charity appeals I'm sick of them why the good woman thinks I have nothing to do but to write checks for her silly fads all right Uncle George I'll tell her but it won't have any effect philanthropic people lose all sense of humanity it's their distinguishing characteristic the Old Gentleman growled approvingly and rang the bell for his servant Lord Henry passed up the low arcade into Burlington Street and turned his steps in the direction of Barclay Square so that was the story of Dorian Gray's parentage crudely as it has been told to him it had yet stirred him by its suggestion of a strange almost modern romance a beautiful woman risking everything for a mad fashion a few wild weeks of Happiness cut short by a hit a hit treacherous crime months of voiceless Agony and a child born in pain the mother snatched away by death the boy left a Solitude the tyranny of an old and Loveless man yes was an interesting background it posed the lad made him more perfect behind every Exquisite thing that existed that was something tragic worlds had to be in travail that the meanest flower might blow and how Charming he had been at dinner the night before as with startled eyes and lips parted in frightened pleasure he had sat opposite to him at the club the red candle Shades staining to a richer Rose The Awakening Wonder of his face talking to him was like playing upon an Exquisite violin the answer to every touch and Thrill of the bow there was something terribly enthralling in the exercise of influence no other activity was like it project one's Soul into some gracious form and let it tarry there for a moment to hear one's own intellectual views echoed back to one with all that added music and passion of youth to convey one's temperament into another as though it were a subtle fluid or a strange perfume was a real joy in there perhaps the most satisfying Joy left to us in an age so limited and vulgar as our own an age grossly carnal in its pleasures and grossly common in its aims he was a marvelous type to this lad whom by so curious a chance he had met in bezel Studio what could be fashioned into a marvelous type at any rate Grace was his and the white purity of Boyhood and Beauty such as old Greek marbles kept for us there was nothing that one could not do with him he could be made a Titan or a toy what a Pity it was that such beauty was destined to fade and basil from a psychological point of view how interesting he was the new manner in art the fresh mode of looking at life suggested so strangely by the male Invisible Presence of one who was unconscious of it all the silent spirit that dwelt in dim Woodland and walked on the scene in open field suddenly showing herself dryad like and not afraid because in his soul who sought for her there had been awakened that wonderful Vision to which alone are wonderful things revealed the mere shapes and patterns of things becoming as it were refined gaining a kind of symbolical value as though they were themselves patterns of some other more perfect form whose Shadow they made real how strange it all was you remembered something like it in history was it not Plato the artist in thought who had first analyzed it was it not wanarotti who had carved it in the colored marbles of a Sonic sequence but on our own Century it was strange yes he would try to be to Dorian Gray but without knowing it the lad was to the painter who had fashioned the wonderful portrait he would seek to dominate him had already indeed half done so he would make that wonderful spirit his own there was something fascinating in this son of Love and Death suddenly he stopped and glanced up at the houses he found that he had passed his arms by some distance and smiling to himself turned back when he entered the somewhat somber Hall the butler told him they had gone into lunch he gave one of the footman his hat and stick and passed into the dining room late as usual Harry cried his aunt shaking her head at him he invented a facile excuse and haven't taken the vacant seat next to her at Ground to see who was there Dorian bowed him shyly from the end of the table a flash of pleasure stealing into his cheek opposite was the Duchess of Harley the lady of admirable good nature and good temper much liked by everyone who knew her and of those ample architectural proportions that it women who were not duchesses are described by contemporary historians as stoutness next to her sat on her right Sir Thomas bird and a radical Member of Parliament who followed his leader in public life and in private life followed the best cooks dining with the Tories and thinking with the Liberals in accordance with the wise and well-known rule the post on her left was occupied by Mr Erskine of treadley an Old Gentleman of considerable charm and culture who had fallen into bad habits of Silence having as he explained once to Lady Agatha said everything that he had say before he was 30. his own neighbor was Mrs vandalur one of his aunt's oldest friends in a perfect Saint amongst women but so dreadfully Dowdy that she reminded one of a badly bound hymn book fortunately for him she had on the other side Lord fordall a most intelligent middle-aged mediocrity as bald as a ministerial statement in the House of Commons with whom she was conversing in an intensely Earnest manner which is the one unpardonable error as he remarked once himself that all really good people fall into and from which none of them ever quite Escape we're talking about Paul Dartmoor Lord Henry cried The Duchess nodding pleasantly to him across the table do you think he will really marry this fascinating young person I believe she's made up her mind to propose to him Duchess how Dreadful exclaimed lady Agatha really someone should interfere I'm told on excellent Authority her father keeps an American dry goods store said Sir Thomas burden looking supercilious my uncles already suggested pork packing Sir Thomas Dry Goods what are American Dry Goods ask The Duchess raising her large hands in wondering accentuating the verb American novels answered Lord Henry helping himself to some Quail The Duchess looked puzzled don't mind him my dear whispered lady Agatha he never means anything he says when America was discovered said the radical member and he began to give some wears some facts like all people who tried to exhaust the subject he exhausted his listeners The Duchess sighed and exercised her privilege of interruption I wish to goodness it never had been discovered at all she exclaimed really our girls have no chance nowadays most unfair perhaps after all America never has been discovered said Mr Erskine I myself would say it had merely been detected oh but I've seen specimens of the inhabitants answered The Duchess vaguely I must confess most of them are extremely pretty and they dress well too they addresses in Paris I wish I could afford to do the same they say when good Americans die they go to Paris chuckled Sir Thomas who had a large wardrobe of humors cast off clothes really and where do bad Americans go when they die in Queen they go to America murmured Lord Henry Sir Thomas frowned I'm afraid that your nephew is prejudiced against that great country he said to Lady Agatha I've traveled all over in cars provided by the director who in such matters are extremely civil I assure you that it's an education to visit it but must we really see Chicago in order to be educated asked Mr Erskine plaintiffly I don't feel up to the journey Sir Thomas waved his hand Mr Erskine of tradley has the world on his shelves we practical men like to see things not to read about them the Americans are in extremely interesting people they're absolutely reasonable I their distinguishing characteristic yes Mr Erskine an absolutely reasonable people and I assure you there is no nonsense about the Americans how Dreadful cried Lord Henry I can stand Brute Force but brute reason is quite unbearable there is something unfair about its use it's uh hitting below the intellect I do not understand you said Sir Thomas growing rather red I do Lord Henry murmured Mr Erskine with a smile paradoxes are all very well in their way rejoined the baronet was that a paradox ask Mr Erskine I did not think so perhaps it was well the way of paradoxes is the way of Truth to test reality we must see it on a tightrope where the verities become acrobats we can judge them to hear me said lady Agatha how you men argue I'm sure I can never make out what you're talking about oh Harry I'm quite vexed with you why do you try to persuade our nice Mr Dorian Gray to give up the East End I assure you he would be quite invaluable they would love his playing I want him to play to me right Lord Henry smiling and he looks down the table and caught a bright answering glance but they're so unhappy in White Chapel continued lady Agatha I can sympathize with everything except suffering said Lord Henry shrugging his shoulders I cannot sympathize with that it is too ugly too horrible too distressing there's something terribly morbid in the modern sympathy with pain one should sympathize with the color the beauty the joy of Life the less said about life's Souls the better still the East End is a very important problem remarked Sir Thomas with the grave Shake of the head quite so answered the young Lord It's the problem of slavery and we try to solve it by amusing the slaves the politician looked at him keenly what change do you propose then he asked Lord Henry laughed I don't desire to change anything in England except the weather I'm quite content with philosophic contemplation it is the 19th century has gone bankrupt through an over expenditure of sympathy I would suggest that we should appeal to science to put us straight the advantage of the emotions is that they lead us astray and the advantage of science is that it is not emotional but we have such great responsibilities and should Mrs vandalur timidly terribly grave echoed lady Agatha Lord Henry looked over at Mr Erskine Humanity takes itself too seriously it's the world's original sin if the cavemen had known how to laugh history would have been different you are really very comforting wobbled The Duchess I've always felt rather guilty when I came to see your dear Aunt for I take no interest at all in the East end for the future I shall be able to look her in the face without a blush a blush is very becoming Duchess remarked Lord Henry only when one is Young she answered when an old woman like myself blushes it's a very bad sign ah Lord Henry I wish you would tell me how to become young again thought for a moment can you remember any great error that you committed in your early days Duchess he asked looking at her across the table a great many I fear she cried then commit them over again he said Gravely to get back one's youth one has merely to repeat one's Follies a delightful Theory she exclaimed I must put it into practice a dangerous Theory came from Thomas's tight lips lips lady Agatha shook her head but could not help being amused Mr Erskine listened yes he continued that is one of the great secrets of life nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense and discover when it's too late that the only things that one never regrets for one's mistakes a laugh ran around the table he played with the idea and grew willful tossed it into the air transformed it let it Escape recaptured it made it iridescent with fancy and winged it with paradox the praise of folly as he went on soared into a philosophy and philosophy herself became Young and catching the Mad Music of pleasure wearing one might fancy her weinstained robe and wreath of ivy dance like a bakanti over the hills of life and mocked the slow siliness for being sober facts fled before her like frightened Forest things her white feet trod the huge press at which wise Omar sits till the seething grape juice Rose around her bare limbs in waves of purple bubbles or crawled in red foam over the vat's black dripping sloping sides it was an extraordinary improvisation he felt that the eyes of Dorian Gray were fixed on him and the Consciousness that amongst his audience there was one whose temperament he wished to Fascinate seemed to give his wit keenness to lend color to his imagination he was brilliant fantastic irresponsible Charmed his listeners out of themselves and they followed his pipe laughing Dorian Gray never took his gaze off him but Smiles chasing each other over his lips and wonder growing grave in his darkening eyes at last liveried in the costume of the age reality entered the room in the shape of a servant to tell The Duchess that her carriage was waiting she ran her hands in mock despair how annoying she cried they must go I have to call for my husband at the club to take him to some absurd meeting at the Willis rims where he's going to be in the chair if I'm late he is sure to be furious like seen in this Bonnet and it's far too fragile a harsh word would ruin it now I must go dear Agatha goodbye Lord Henry you are quite delightful and dreadfully demoralizing I'm sure I don't know what to say about your views you must come and dine with us some night Tuesday are you disengaged Tuesday for you I would throw over anybody Duchess said Lord Henry with a bow Ah that's very nice and very wrong of you she cried so he swept out of the room followed by Lady Agatha and the other ladies when Lord Henry sat down again Mr Erskine moved around taking a chair close to him placed his hand upon his arm you talk books away he said why don't you write one I'm too fond of reading books to care to write the Mr Erskine I should like to write a novel certainly a novel that would be as lovely as a Persian carpet and as unreal but there is no literary public in England for anything except newspapers primers and encyclopedias of all the people in the world the English have the least sense of the beauty of literature I fear you're right answer Mr Erskine I myself used to have literary Ambitions but I gave them up long ago and now my dear young friend if you will allow me to call you sir may I ask if you really meant all that you said to us at lunch I quite forget what I said smiled Lord Henry was it all very bad very bad indeed in fact I consider you extremely dangerous if anything happens to our good Duchess we shall look on you as being primarily responsible like to talk to you about life the generation into which I was born was tedious someday when you're tired of London come down to treadly and expound to me your philosophy of pleasure over some admirable burgundy that I'm fortunate enough to possess oh I shall be Charmed a visit to treadley would be a great privilege it has a perfect host and a perfect Library you will complete it answer the old gentleman with the courteous Bell and now I must bid goodbye to your excellent Aunt I'm due with the uh athenium it's the hour when we sleep there all of you Mr Erskine 40 of us in 40 armchairs practicing for an English Academy of letters Lord Henry laughed and Rose I'm going to the park he cried as he was passing out the door Dorian Ray touched him on the arm but I thought you had promised basil hallwood to go and see him answered Lord Henry I would sooner come with you yes I feel I must come with you you let me and you will promise to talk to me all the time no one talks so wonderfully as you do ah I have talked quite enough for today said Lord Henry smiling all they want now is to look up look you may come and look at it with me one afternoon a month later Dorian Gray was reclining in a luxurious armchair in the little library of Lord Henry's house in Mayfair it was in its way a very Charming room with its high paneled Wayne's coating of olive stained Oak its cream-colored freeze in the ceiling of raised plasterer and its brick dust felt carpet strewn with silk long fringed Persian rugs on a tiny satin wood tables to the statuette by claudion and beside it lay a copy of Le scent nouvelle Bound for Margaret of alloy by Clovis Eve powdered with the guilt daisies that Queen had selected for her device some large Blue China jaws and parrot tulips were arranged on the mental Shelf and through the small leaded Pains of the window streamed the apricot colored light of a summer day in London Lord Henry had not yet come in he was always late on principle his principle being that punctuality is the thief of time so the lad was looking rather sulky as with listless fingers he turned over the pages of an elaborately illustrated edition of man on this court that he had found in one of the bookcases the formal monotonous ticking of the Louis quartos clock annoyed him once or twice he thought of going away at last he had a step outside and the door opened how late you are Harry he murmured I am afraid it is not Harry Mr Gray answered a shrill voice he glanced quickly round and Rose to his feet I beg your pardon I thought you thought it was my husband it is only his wife you must let me introduce myself I know you quite well by your photographs I think my husband has got 17 of them not 17 lady Henry well 18 then and I saw you with him the other night at the Opera she laughed nervously as she spoke and watched him with her vague Forget Me Not eyes she was a curious woman whose dresses always looked as if they had been designed in a rage and put on in a tempest she was usually in love with somebody and as her passion was never returned she had kept all her illusions she tried to look picturesque but only succeeded in being untidy her name was Victoria and she had a Perfect Mania for going to church that was it um Lohan grin lady Henry I think yes it was a dealer in grin I like Wagner's music better than anybody's so loud that one can talk the whole time without other people hearing what one says that is a great Advantage don't you think so Mr Gray the same nervous staccato laugh broke from her thin lips and her fingers began to play with a long tortoiseshell paper knife Dorian smiled and shook his head I'm afraid I don't think so lady Henry I never talked during music at least during good music like one hears bad music it is one's duty to drown it in conversation ah that is one of Harry's views isn't it Mr Gray I always hear Harry's views from his friends it's but they get to know of them but you must not think I don't like good music I adore it but I'm afraid of it it makes me too romantic I've simply worshiped pianists two at a time sometimes Harry tells me I don't know what it is about them absence that they are foreigners they all are ain't they even those that are born in England become foreigners after a time don't they it's so clever of them in such a compliment to art mix it quite Cosmopolitan doesn't it you've never been to any of my parties have you Mr Gray you must come I can't afford all kids but I spare no expense in foreigners they make one's rooms look so picturesque but here is Harry Harry I came in to look for you to ask you something I forget what it was and I found Mr Gray here we've had such a pleasant chat about music the same ideas no I think our ideas are quite different but he's been most Pleasant and I'm so glad that I've seen him oh I'm Charmed my love quite Charmed said Lord Henry elevating his dark present-shaped eyebrows and looking at them both with an amused smile so sorry I'm late Dorian I went to look after a piece of all brocade in war Door Street and had to bargain for hours for it nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing I'm afraid I must be going exclaimed lady Henry breaking an awkward silence with her silly sudden laugh I promise to dry it with the duchess and Goodbye Mr Gray goodbye Harry you're dining out I suppose so am I perhaps I shall see you at lady thornbury's I dare same idea said Lord Henry shutting the door behind her is looking bird of paradise that had been out all night in the rain she flitted out of the room leaving a faint order of Frangipani then he lit a cigarette and flung himself down on the sofa never marry a woman with straw colored hair Dorian he said after a few paths why Harry they are so sentimental but I like sentimental people ever marry a tall Dorian men marry because they are tired women because they are curious in both the disappointed I don't think I'm likely to Marry Harry I'm too much in love that is one of your aphorisms and putting it into practice as I do everything that you say who are you in love with ask Lord Henry after a pause with an actress said Dorian Gray blushing Lord Henry Shrugged his shoulders that is a rather commonplace debut you would not say so if you saw her Harry who is she her name is sybilvane never heard of her no one has people will someday she's a genius my dear boy or a woman is a genius women are a decorative sex they never have anything to say but they say a charmingly women represent the Triumph of matter over mind just as men represent the Triumph of Mind Over morals Perry how can you my dear Dorian it is quite true I'm analyzing women at present so I ought to know the subject is not so abstruse as I thought it was I find that ultimately there are only two kinds of women the plain and the colored the plain women are very useful if you want to gain a reputation for respectability if really to take them down to supper the other women are very Charming they commit one mistake however they paint in order to try and look young our grandmothers painted in order to try and talk brilliantly rules and the spirit used to go together that is all over now as long as a woman can look 10 years younger than her own daughter she's perfectly satisfied and as for conversation there are only five women in London worth talking to two of these can't be admitted into decent Society however tell me about your Genius how long have you known her Harry your views terrify me never mind that how long have you known her about three weeks then where did you come across her I will tell you Harry but you mustn't be unsympathetic about it after all it never would have happened if I had not met you you filled me with the wild desire to know everything about life for days after I met you something seemed to throb in my veins as I lounged in the park or strolled down Piccadilly I used to look at everyone who passed me and wonder with a mad curiosity what sort of lives they LED some of them have fascinated me others filled me with Terror there was an Exquisite poison in the air I had a passion for Sensations well one evening about seven o'clock I determined to go out in search of some Adventure I felt that this gray monstrous London of ours with its myriads of people had sordid sin as it Splendid sins as you once phrased it must have something in store for me fancied a thousand things the mere danger gave me a sense of delight I remembered what you had said to me on that wonderful evening when we first dined together about the search for beauty being the real secret of life I don't know what I expected but I went out and I wandered Eastward soon losing my way in a Labyrinth of grimy streets and black grassless squares about half past eight I passed by an absurd Little Theater with great flaring gas jets and gaudy playbills the Hideous man in the most amazing waistcoat I ever beheld in my life was standing at the entrance smoking a vile cigar he had greasy ringlets and an enormous Diamond glazed in the center of a soiled shirt talks my Lord he said when he saw me he took off his hat with a hair of gorgeous stability there was something about him Harry that amused me he was such a monster you'll laugh at me I know but I really went in and paid a whole Guinea for the stage box to the present day I can't make out why I did so and yeah if I hadn't my dear Harry if I hadn't I should have missed the greatest Romance of my life I see you are laughing it's horrid of you I am not laughing Dorian at least I'm not laughing at you but you should not say the greatest Romance of your life you should say the first Romance of your life you will always be loved and you will always be in love with love a Grand Passion it's a privilege of people who have nothing to do that is the one use of the idol classes of a country Don't Be Afraid there are Exquisite things in store for you it's merely the beginning do you think my nature so shallow cried Dorian Gray angrily oh I think your Nature's so deep how do you mean my dear boy the people who only love once in their lives are really the shallow people what they call their loyalty and their Fidelity I call either the lethargy of custom or their lack of imagination faithfulness is to the emotional life what consistency is to the life of the intellect simply a confession of failure faithfulness I must analyze it someday the passion for property is in it there are many things that we would throw away if we were not afraid that others might pick them up but I don't want to interrupt you go on with your story well I I found myself seated in a horrid little private box with a vulgar drop scene staring me in the face I looked out from behind the Curt and then surveyed the house it was a tortry affair or Cupids and cornucopias like a third-rate wedding cake the gallery and pit were fairly full with the two rows of dingy stalls were quite empty and that was hardly a person and what I suppose they called the dress Circle women went about with oranges and ginger beer and there was a terrible consumption of nuts going on it must have been just like the palmy days of the British drama just like I should fancy and very depressing I began to wonder what on Earth I should do when I caught sight of the playbill what do you think the play was Harry I should think the idiot boy or dumb but innocent our fathers used to like that sort of peace I believe the longer I live Dory and the more keenly I feel that whatever was good enough for our fathers is not good enough for us in art as in politics this play was good enough for us Harry it was Romeo and Juliet I must admit I was rather annoyed at the idea of seeing Shakespeare done in such a wretched hole of a place still I felt interested in a sort of way at any rate I determined to wait for the First Act there was a dreadful Orchestra presided over by a young Hebrew who sat at a cracked piano that nearly drove me away but at last the drop scene was drawn up and the play began Romeo was a stout elderly gentleman of his corked eyebrows a husky tragedy voice and a figure like a beer barrel Mercutio was almost as bad played by the low comedian who had introduced gags of his own and was on most friendly terms with the pit they were both as grotesque as the scenery and that looked as if it had come out of a country booth but Juliet Harry imagine a girl hardly 17 years of age with a little flower-like face a small Greek head plated coils of dark brown hair eyes that were Violet Wells of passion lips that were like the Petals of a rose she was the loveliest thing that I'd ever seen in my life you said to me once that pathos left you unmoved but that beauty mere Beauty could fill your eyes with tears I tell you Harry I could hardly see this girl for the mist of tears that came across me and her voice I have never heard such a voice it was very low at first with deep mellow notes that seemed to fall singly upon one's ear then it became a little louder and sounded like a flute or a distant hot boy in the garden Scene It had all the tremulous ecstasy that one hears Just Before Dawn when Nightingales is singing there were moments later on when it had the wild passion of violins you know how a voice can stir one your voice and the voice of Sybil vain are two things that I shall never forget When I close my eyes I hear them and each of them says things different I don't know which to follow why should I not love her Harry I do love her she's everything to me in life night after night I go and see her play one evening she is Rosalind in the next evening she's Imaging I've seen her die in the Gloom of an Italian tomb sucking the poison from her Lover's lips I have watched her wandering through the forest of Arden disguised as a pretty boy in hoes and doublet and dainty cap she has been mad and has come into the presence of a guilty King and given him root aware and bitter herbs to taste of she's been innocent in the black hands of jealousy have crushed her weed-like throat I have seen her in every age and in every costume ordinary women never appeal to one's imagination they are limited to their century no glamor ever transfigures them one knows their minds as easily as one knows their bonnets one can always find them there is no mystery in any of them they ride in the park in the morning and chatter at tea parties in the afternoon they have their stereotyped smile in their fashionable manner obvious but an actress how different an actress is Harry why didn't you tell me the only thing worth loving is an actress because I have loved so many of them Dorian oh yes horrid people with dyed hair and painted faces don't run down dyed hair and painted faces there is an extraordinary charm in them sometimes said Lord Henry I wish now I had not told you about civil vain you could not have helped telling me Dorian all through your life you will tell me everything you do yes Harry I believe that is true I cannot help telling you things you have a curious influence over me if I ever did a crime I would come and confess it to you you would understand me people like you the willful sunbeams of life don't commit crimes Dorian but I am much obliged for the compliment all the same now tell me reach me the matches like a good boy thanks what are your actual relations with Sybil vain Dorian Gray leaped to his feet with flush cheeks and burning eyes Harry Sybil vain is sacred it is only the sacred things that are worth touching Dorian said Lord Henry with a strange Touch of Pathos in his voice why should you be annoyed I suppose she'll Belong To You Someday when one is in love one always Begins by deceiving oneself and one always ends by deceiving others this is what the world calls a romance you know her at any rate I suppose of course I know how on the first night I was at the theater the horrid old man came round to the box after the performance was over and offered to take me behind the scenes and I was furious with him and told him that Julia had been dead for hundreds of years and her body was lying in a marble tomb in Verona I think from his blank look of Amazement he was under the impression I had taken too much champagne or something I'm not surprised then he asked me if I wrote for any newspapers I told him I never even read them but he seemed terribly disappointed at that and confided to me that all dramatic critics were in conspiracy against him and that they were every one of them to be bought I should not wonder if he was quite right there but on the other hand judging from their appearance most of them cannot be at all expensive well he seemed to think they were Beyond his means Loft Dorian by this time however the lights were being put out in the theater and I had to go he wanted me to try some cigars that he strongly recommended and I declined the next night of course I arrived at the place again when he saw me he made a long bow and assured me that I was a munificent patron of Art the most offensive brute though he had an extraordinary passion for Shakespeare he told me once with an air of Pride that his five bankruptcies were entirely due to The Bard as he insisted on calling him he seemed to think it a distinction it was a distinction my dear Dorian a great distinction most people become bankrupt through having invested too heavily in the pros of life to have ruined oneself over poetry is an honor but when did you first speak to miss sybilvane the third night she had been playing Rosalind and I could not help going around I had thrown her some flowers and she had looked at me at least I fancied that she had the the old man was persistent he seemed determined to take me behind so consented it was curious my not wanting to know her wasn't it I don't think so my dear Harry why I'll tell you some other time now I want to know about the Girl Sybil oh she was so shy and so gentle something of a child about her eyes opened wide in Exquisite wonder when I told her what I thought of her performance and she seemed quite unconscious of her power I think we were both rather nervous the old man stood grinning at the doorway of the dusty Green Room making elaborate speeches about us both while we stood looking at each other like children he would insist on calling me my Lord so I had to assure Sybil I was not anything of the kind she said quite simply to me you look more like a prince I must call you Prince Charming upon my word Dorian Miss syll knows how to make compliments you don't understand her Harry she regarded me merely as a person in a play she knows nothing of life she lives with her mother a faded tired woman who played Lady Capulet in a sort of magenta dressing rapper on the first night and looks as if she had seen better days I know that look it depresses me Mammoth Lord Henry examining his rings the old man wanted to tell me her history but I said it did not interest me you were quite right there is always something infinitely mean about other people's tragedies symbol is the only thing I care about what is it to me where she came from from her little head to her little feet she is absolutely an entirely Divine every night of my life I go to see her act and every night she is more marvelous that is the reason I suppose that you never dine with me now I thought you must have some Curious romance on hand you have but it is not quite what I expected my dear Harry we either lunch or sup together every day and I've been to the Opera with you several times said Dorian opening his blue eyes in wonder you always come dreadfully late well I can't help going to see Sybil play he cried even if it's only for a single act I get hungry for her presence and and I think of the wonderful Soul that's hidden away in that little Ivory body filled with ore you've been dine with me tonight Dorian aren't you he shook his head tonight she's Imogen he answered tomorrow night shall be Juliet when is she Sybil vain never I congratulate you how horrid you are geez all the great heroines of the world in one she is more than an individual you laugh when I tell you that she has genius I love her and I must make her love me you who know all the secrets of Life tell me how to charm civil vain to love me I want to make Romeo jealous I want the dead lovers of the world to hear our laughter and grow sad I want a breath of our passion stir their dust into Consciousness to wake their ashes into pain my God Harry how I worship her he was walking up and down the room as he spoke hectic spots of red burned on his cheeks he was terribly excited Lord Henry watched him with a subtle sense of pleasure how different he was now from the shy frightened boy he had met in basil hallwood Studio his nature had developed like a flower had borne blossoms of scarlet Flame out of its secret hiding place had crept his soul and desire had come to meet it on the way and what do you propose to do said Lord Henry at last I want you and basil to come with me some night and see her act I have not the slightest fear of the result you are certain to acknowledge her genius then we must get her out of the old man's hands she's bound to him for three years at least for two years and eight months from the present time I shall have to pay him something of course my that is settled I shall take a West End theater and bring her out properly she'll make the world as mad as she has made me that would be impossible my dear boy yes she will she has not merely art consummate art Instinct in her personality also and you have often told me that it is personalities not principles that move the age well what night shall we go let me see today is Tuesday let us fix tomorrow she plays Juliet tomorrow all right that we're still at eight o'clock and I will get basil not eight Harry please half past six we must be there before the curtain Rises you must see her in the First Act where she meets Romeo half past six what an hour it'll be like having a meat tea or reading an English novel it must be seven no gentleman dines before seven shall you see a basil between this and then or shall I write to him dear basil I've not laid eyes on him for a week it's rather horrid of me as he sent me my portrait to the most wonderful frame specially designed by himself now I'm a little jealous of the picture being a whole month the younger than I am I must admit that I Delight in it perhaps you would better write to him I want to see him alone he says things that annoy me he gives me good advice Lord Henry smiled people are very fond of giving away what they need most themselves it is what I call the depth of generosity oh basil is one of the best fellows but he seems to me just a bit of a Philistine since I've known you Harry I've discovered that basil my dear boy puts everything that is Charming in him into his work the consequence is that he has nothing left for life but his prejudices his principles and his common sense the only artists I have ever known who are personally delightful are bad artists good artists exist simply in what they make consequently a perfectly uninteresting in what they are a great poet a really great poet is the most unpoetical of creatures but inferior poets are absolutely fascinating the worse their Rhymes the more picturesque they look the mere fact of having published a book of second-rate sonnets makes a man quite irresistible he lives the Poetry that he cannot write the others write the Poetry that they dare not realize I wonder is that really so Harry said Dorian Gray putting some perfume on his handkerchief out of a large gold topped bottle that stood on the table it must be if you say it and now I'm off Imogen is waiting for me don't forget about tomorrow as he left the room Lord Henry's heavy eyelids drooped and he began to think certainly few people had ever interested him so much as Dorian Gray and yet the lad's murderation of someone else caused him slightest Pang of annoyance or jealousy he was pleased by it made him a more interesting study he had been always enthralled by the methods of Natural Science but the ordinary subject matter of that science had seemed to him trivial and of no import and so he had begun by vivisecting himself as he had ended by the vesecting others human life that appeared to him the one thing worth investigating compared to it there was nothing else of any value it was true that as one watched life in its curious Crucible of pain and pleasure one could not wear over one's face a mask of glass or keep the sulfurous fumes from troubling the brain and making the imagination turbid with monstrous fantasies and misshapen dreams there were poisons so subtle that to know their properties one had to second off them there were maladies so strange that one had to pass through them if one sought to understand their nature and yet what a great reward one received how wonderful the whole world became to one to note the Curious hard logic of passion and the emotional colored life of intellect to observe where they met and where they separated at what point they were in unison and at what point they were in Discord there was a delight in that what matter what the cost was one could never pay too higher price for any sensation he was conscious and the thought brought a gleam of pleasure into his Brown agatise that it was those certain words of his musical words with musical utterance that Dorian Gray's Soul had turned to this white girl and bowed in worship before her to a large extent the lad was his own creation he had made him premature that was something ordinary people have waited till life disclosed to them its Secrets but to the few to the elect the mysteries of Life were revealed before the veil was drawn away sometimes this was the effect of Art and chiefly of the art of literature which deals immediately with the passions in the intellect but now and then a complex personality took the place and assumed the office of Art was indeed in its way a real work of our life having its elaborate masterpieces just as poetry has or sculpture or painting yes the lad was premature he was gathering his Harvest while it was yet spring pulse and passion of youth were in him but he was becoming self-conscious it was delightful to watch him with his beautiful face and his beautiful soul he was a thing to wonder at was no matter how it all ended or was destined to end he was like one of those gracious figures in a pageant or a play whose Joys seem to be remote from one but whose Sorrows star one sense of beauty and his wounds I like red roses soul and body body and soul how mysterious they were there was an animalism in the soul and the body had its moments of spirituality the senses could refine and the intellect could degrade who could say where the fleshly impulse ceased or the physical impulse began how shallow were the arbitrary definitions of ordinary psychologists and yet how difficult to decide between the claims of the various schools was the soul the shadow seated in the house of sin or was the body really in the soul as Giordano Bruno thought a separation of spirit from Mata was a mystery and the union of spirit with Mata was a mystery also he began to wonder whether he could ever make psychology so absolute a science that each little spring of life would be revealed to us as it was we always misunderstood ourselves and rarely understood others experience was of no ethical value it was merely the name men gave to their mistakes moralists had as a rule regarded it as a mode of warning had claimed for it a certain ethical efficacy in the formation of character had praised it to something that taught us what to follow and showed us what to avoid but there was no Motive Power in experience it was as little of an active cause as conscience itself and that it really demonstrated was that our future would be the same as our past and that the sin we had done once and with loathing we would do many times and with joy it was clear to him that the experimental method was the only method by which one could arrive at scientific analysis of the Passions and certainly Dorian Gray was a subject made to his hand and seemed to promise rich and fruitful results his sudden mad love the Sybil vein was a psychological phenomenon of no small interest there was no doubt that Curiosity had much to do with it curiosity and the desire for new experiences yet it was not a simple but rather a very complex passion what there was in it of the purely sensuous instincts a Boyhood had been transformed by the workings of the imagination changed into something that seemed to the lad himself to be remote from sense and was for that very reason all the more dangerous was the passions about whose origin we deceived ourselves that tyrannized most strongly over us our weakest motifs were those of whose nature we were conscious it often happened that when we thought we were experimenting on others we were really experimenting on ourselves while Lord Henry sat dreaming on these things a knock came to the door and his valet entered and reminded him it was time to dress for dinner he got up and looked out into the street the sunset had smitten into scarred gold the upper Windows of the house opposite the pains glowed like plates of heated metal the sky above was like a Faded Rose thought of his friend's young fiery colored life and wondered how it was all going to end when he arrived home about half past 12 o'clock he saw a telegram lying on the hall table he opened it and found it was from Dorian Gray it was to tell him that he was engaged to be married to civil vain mother mother I am so happy whispered the girl burying her face in the lap of The Faded tired looking woman who with back turns to the shrill intrusive light was sitting in the one wanji sitting room contained can tell him so happy she repeated and you must be happy too Mrs vane winced and put her thin this this whitened hands on her daughter's head happy she echoed I am only happy civil when I see you act you must not think of anything but you're acting Mr Isaac's has been very good to us and we owe him money the girl looked up and pouted money mother she cried what does money matter love is more than money Mr Isaacs has advanced us 50 pounds to pay off our debts and to get a proper outfit for James you must not forget that civil 50 pounds is a very large sum Mr Isaacs has been most considerate he is not a gentleman mother and I hate the way he talks to me said the girl rising to her feet and going over to the window I don't know how he could manage without him answered the older woman civil vain tossed her head and laughed we don't want him anymore mother Prince Charming rules life for us now then she paused a rose shook in her blood and shadowed her cheeks quick breath parted the Petals of her lips they trembled some southern wind of passion swept over her and stirred the dainty folds of her dress I love him she said simply foolish child foolish child was the parrot phrase flung in answer the waving of crooked false jeweled fingers gave grotesqueness to the words the girl laughed again the joy of a caged bird was in her voice her eyes caught the melody and echoed it in Radiance then closed for a moment as though to hide their secret when they opened the mist of a dream had passed across them thin-lipped wisdom spoke at her from the worn chair hinted at Prudence quoted from that book of cowardice whose author ate the name of Common Sense she did not listen she was free in her prison of passion her prince prince charming was with her she had called on a memory to remake him Saul to search for him and it had brought him back his kiss burned again upon her mouth her eyelids were warm with his breath then wisdom altered its method and spoke of a smile and Discovery this young man might be rich if so marriage should be thought of against the shell of her ear broke the waves of worldly cunning the arrows of craft shot by her she saw the thin lips moving and smiled suddenly she felt the need to speak the wordy silence traveled her mother mother she cried why does he love me so much I know why I love him I love him because he is like what love himself should be but what does he see in me I'm not worthy of him and yet why I cannot tell though I feel so much beneath him I don't feel humble I feel proud terribly proud mother did you love my father as I love Prince Charming the Elder woman grew pale beneath the coarse powder that dawged her cheeks her dry lips twitched with a spasmus of a civil rush to her Thung her arms around her neck and kissed her Forgive Me Mother I know it pains you to talk about our father that it only pains you because you loved him so much don't look so sad I am as happy today as you were 20 years ago my child you are far too young to think of think of love besides what do you know of this young man you don't even know his name the whole thing is most inconvenient and really when James is going away to Australia and I have so much to think of I must say that you should have shown more consideration however as I said before if he is rich mother mother let me be happy Mrs vane glanced at her and with one of those false theatrical gestures that so often become a mode of second nature to a stage player clasped her in her arms at this moment the door opened and a young lad with rough brown hair came into the room he was a thick set of figure in his hands and feet were large and somewhat clumsy in movement he was not so finely bred as his sister one would have hardly guessed the close relationship that existed between them Mrs vane fixed her eyes on him and intensified her smile she mentally elevated her son to the Dignity of an audience she felt sure that the Tableau was interesting you might keep some of your kisses for me Sybil I think said the lad with a good-natured Grumble ah but you don't like being kissed Jim she cried you're a dreadful old bear she ran across the room and hugged him James Bain looked into his sister's face with tenderness I want you to come out for a walk Sybil I don't suppose I shall ever see this horrid London again and I'm sure I don't want to saying such Dreadful things Marmot Mrs vane taking up a Tory theatrical dress with a sign beginning to patch it she felt a little disappointed that he had not joined the group it would have increased the theatrical picturesque of the situation why not mother I mean it you pain me my son I trust you will return from Australia in a position of affluence I believe there is no Society of any kind in the colonies something that I would call a society so when you've made your fortune you must come back and assert yourself in London Society mattered the lad I don't want to know anything about that I should like to make some money to take you and Sybil off the stage oh Jim said Sybil laughing how unkind of you what are you really going for a walk with me that'll be nice I was afraid you were going to say goodbye to some of your friends to Tom Hardy who gave you that hideous pipe or Ned Langton who makes fun of you for smoking it it is very sweet of you to let me have your last afternoon where shall we go let us go to the park I'm too shabby he answered frowning only swell people go to the park nonsense Jim she whispered stroking the sleeves of his coat be hesitated for a moment very well he said but don't be too long dressing she danced out of the door one could hear her singing as she ran upstairs how the held patted overhead he walked up and down the room two or three times then he turned to the still figure in the chair mother my things ready he asked quite ready James she answered keeping her eyes on her work some months passed she had felt ill at ease when she was alone with this rough Stern son of hers her shallow secret nature was troubled when their eyes met she used to wonder if he suspected anything the silence for he made no other observation became intolerable to her she began to complain women defend themselves by attacking just as they attack by sudden and strange surrenders will be contented James with your seafaring life she said you must remember that it's your own choice you might have entered a solicitor's office solicitors are a very respectable class and in the country often dine with the best families my offices and I hate clerks he replied but you are quite right I have chosen my own life all I say is watch over civil our mother you must watch over her James you really talk very strangely of course I watch over Sybil I hear a gentleman comes every night to the theater and goes behind to talk to her is that right what about that you were speaking of things you don't understand James in the profession we are accustomed to receive a great deal of most gratifying attention I myself used to receive many bouquets at one time that was when acting was really understood as possible I do not know at present whether her attachment is serious or not but there is no doubt that the young man in question is a perfect gentleman he is always most polite to me besides he has the appearance of being rich and the flowers that he sends are lovely you don't know his name though said the lad harshly no answered the mother with a Placid expression on her face has not yet revealed his real name I think it's quite romantic of him he's probably a member of the aristocracy James vane bit his lip watch over civil mother watch over her my son you distress me very much Sybil is always under my special care of course if this gentleman is wealthy there is no reason why she should not contract an alliance with him I trust he is one of the aristocracy he has all the appearance of it I must say it might be a most brilliant marriage for civil he would make a charm Chomp these good looks are really quite remarkable everybody notices them the lad muttered something to himself and drummed on the window paying with his coarse fingers he had just turned around to say something when the door opened and civil ran in serious you both are she cried what is the matter he answered let's be serious sometimes goodbye mother I'll have my dinner at five o'clock except my shirts so you need not trouble goodbye my son she answered with a bow of strange stateness she was extremely annoyed at the tone that he had adopted with her and there was something in his luck that made her feel afraid SMI mother said the girl her flower-like lips touched the withered cheek and warmed its Frost my child cried Mrs vane looking up at the ceiling search of an imaginary gallery come civil said her brother impatiently he hated his mother's affectations they went out into the flickering wind blown sunlight and strolled down a dreary Houston Road the passive I glanced in Wonder at the southern heavy youth who in coarse ill-fitting clothes was in the company of such a graceful refined looking girl he was like a common gardener walking with a rose Jim frowned from time to time when he called the inquisitive glance of some stranger he had that dislike of being stared at comes on Geniuses late in life and never leaves the commonplace civil however was quite unconscious of the effect that she was producing her love was trembling in laughter on her lips she was thinking of Prince Charming and that she might think of him all the more she did not talk of him but rattled on about the ship in which Jim was going to sail about the gold he was sent to find out the wonderful heiress whose life he was to save from a wicked red shirt and bushranger for he was not to remain a sailor or a Supercar girl or whatever he was going to be oh no a sailor's existence was Dreadful fancy being cooped up in a horrid ship with the horse humpbacked waves trying to get in and lack wind blowing the masts down tearing the sails into long screaming ribbons he was to leave the vessel at Melbourne bitter polite goodbye to the captain and go off at once to the gold fields before a week was over he was to come across a large nugget of pure gold the largest nugget that had ever been discovered and bring it down to the coast in a wagon guarded by six-mounted policemen the bushrangers were to attack them three times and be defeated with immense Slaughter or no he was not to go to the gold fields at all they were horrid places where men got intoxicated and shot each other in bar rooms and used bad language he was to be a nice sheep farmer and one evening as he's riding home he was to see the beautiful heires being carried off by a robber on a black horse give Chase and rescue her of course she would fall in love with him and he with her and they would get married and come home and live in an immense house in London there were delightful things in store for him but he must be very good and not lose his temper or spend his money foolishly she was only a year older than he was but she knew so much more of life he must be sure also to write to her by every male and to say his prayers each night thought was very good and would watch over him she would pray for him too and in a few years he would come back rich and happy the lad listened sulkily to her and made no answer he was heart sick of leaving home yet it was not this alone that made him gloomy and morose inexperienced though he was he had a still a strong sense of the danger of Sybil's position this young Dandy who was making love to her could mean her no good he was a gentleman and he hated him for that hated him through some Curious race Instinct for which he could not account and which for that reason was all the more dominant within him he was conscious also of the shallowness and vanity of his mother's nature and in that sort infinite Peril for Sybil and civil's happiness children begin by loving their parents as they grow older they judge them sometimes they forgive them his mother he had something on his mind to ask of her something that he had brooded on for many months of Silence a chance phrase he had heard of the theater whispered sneer that had reached his ears one night as he waited at the stage door it had set looser train of horrible thoughts he remembered it as if it had been the Lash of a hunting crop across his face his brows knit together into a wedge-like furrow and with a twitch of pain he bit his underlip you are not listening to a word I am saying Jim cried Sybil and I am making the most delightful plans for your future do say something what do you want me to say oh that you'll be a good boy and not forget us she answered smiling at him he Shrugged his shoulders you're more likely to forget me than I am to Forget You civil flashed what do you mean Jim she asked you have a new friend I hear who is he why have you not told me about him he means you know good stop Jim she exclaimed you must not say anything against him I love him why I don't even know his name answer the lad let me see I have a right to know he is called Prince Charming don't you like the name are you silly boy you should never forget it if only you saw him you'd think him the most wonderful person in the world someday I'll meet him when you come back from Australia you will like him so much everybody likes him and I love him I wish he could come to the theater tonight he's gonna be there and I'm to play Juliet how I shall play it fancy gym to be in love and play Juliet to have him sitting there to play for his Delight I'm afraid I may frighten the company frighten or enthrall them to be in love is to surpass oneself or Dreadful Mr Isaacs will be shouting genius to his loafers at the bar he's preached me as a Dogma tonight he'll announce me as a revelation I feel it and it's all his his only French Charming my wonderful lover my god of Graces but I am poor beside him poor what what does that matter when poverty Creeps in at the door love flies in through the window our Proverbs want rewriting they were made in Winter and it's summer now Springtime for me I think the very dance of blossoms in Blue Skies he's a gentleman said the lads southernly the prince she cried musically what more do you want he wants to enslave you I shudder at the thought of being free I want you to beware of him to see him is to worship Him to know him is to trust him Sybil you are mad about him she laughed and took his arm you dear old Jim you talk as if you were a hundred someday you'll be in love yourself and then you will know what it is so sulky surely you should be glad to think that though you were going away you leave me happier than I have ever been before life has been hard for us both terribly hard and difficult but it will be different now you are going to a new world and I have found one here are two chairs let us sit down and see the smart people go by they took their seats amidst a crowd of watches the Tulip beds across the road flamed like throbbing Rings of Fire a white dust tremulous cloud of Oris root it seemed hung in the panting air the brightly colored paracels danced and dipped like monstrous butterflies she made her brother talk of himself his hopes his prospects he spoke slowly and with effort they passed words to each other as players at a game past counters Sybil felt oppressed she could not communicate her Joy faint smile curving that southern mouth was all the Echoes she could win after some time she became silent suddenly she caught a glimpse of golden hair and laughing lips and in an open Carriage with two ladies Dorian Gray drove past she started to have feet there he is she cried who said Jim vain Prince Charming she answered looking after the Victoria he jumped up and seized her roughly by the arm show him to me which is he point him out I must see him but at that moment the Duke of berwick's four in hand came between and when it had left the space clear the carriage had swept out of the park he's gone murmured civil sadly I wish you had seen him I wish I had for sure as there is a God in heaven if he ever does you any wrong I shall kill him she looked at him in horror he repeated his words they cut the air like a dagger the people around began to gape a lady standing close to her titted Come Away Jim come away she whispered he followed her doggedly as she passed through the crowd he felt glad at what he had said when they reached the Achilles statue she turned round there was pity in her eyes that became laughter on her lips shook her head at him you're foolish Jim utterly foolish a bad tempered boy that is all horrible things you don't know what you're talking about you are simply jealous and unkind I wish you would fall in love love makes people good and what you said was wicked 16 he answered and I know what I'm about there is no help to you she doesn't understand how to look after you I wish now that I was not going to Australia a great mind to Chuck the whole thing up I would if my articles hadn't been signed oh don't be so serious Jim you're like one of the heroes of those silly melodramas that mother used to be so fond of acting in I'm not going to crawl with you I have seen him and see him is perfect happiness we won't quarrel I know you would never harm anyone I love would you not as long as you love him I suppose Sullen answer I shall love him forever she cried and he forever to hid bear she shrank from him and she laughed and put her hand on his arm he was merely a boy at The Marble Arch they hailed an Omnibus and that left them close to their shabby home in the Houston Road it was after five o'clock civil had to lie down for a couple of hours before acting Jim insisted that she should do so he said he would soon apart with her when their mother was not present she would be sure to make a scene and he'd attested scenes of every kind in civil's own room they parted there was jealousy in the lad's heart and a fierce murderous hatred of the stranger who as it seemed to him had come between them yet when her arms were flung around his neck and her fingers straight through his hair he softened and kissed her with real affection there were tears in his eyes as he went downstairs his mother was waiting for him below she grumbled at his unpunctuality as he entered server sat down to his meega meal the Flies buzzed around the table and crawled over the stained cloth through the rumble of omnibuses and the clatter of Street cabs he could hear the droning voice devouring each minute that was left to him after some time he thrust away his plate and put his head in his hands he felt he had a right to know it should have been told to him before if it was as he suspected Laden with fear his mother watched him words dropped mechanically from her lips the tattered lace handkerchief twitched in her fingers when the Clock Struck six he got up and went to the door then he turned back and looked at her their eyes met in hers he saw a wild appeal for mercy it enraged him mother I have something to ask you he said her eyes wandered vaguely about the room she made no answer tell me the truth I have a right to know were you married to my father she heaved a deep sigh it was a sigh of relief the terrible moment the moment that night and day for weeks and months she had dreaded had come at last felt no Terror indeed in some measure it was a disappointment to her the vulgar directness of the question called for a direct answer the situation had not been gradually led up to it was crude it reminded her of a bad rehearsal no she answered wondering at the harsh Simplicity of life my father was a scoundrel then cried the lad clenching his fists she shook her head I knew he was not free we loved each other very much if he had lived he would have made provision for us don't speak against him my son he was your father and a Gentleman indeed he was highly connected an oath broke from his lips I don't care for myself he exclaimed but don't let Sybil it is a gentleman isn't it who's in love with her or says he is highly connected to I suppose for a moment a hideous sense of humiliation came over the woman I had drooped she wiped her eyes with shaking hands Sybil has a mother she murmured I had none the light was touched he went towards her and stooping down he kissed her I'm sorry if I've pained You by asking about my father he said could not help it I must go now goodbye don't forget that you will only have one child now to look after and believe me if this man wrongs my sister I will find out who he is track him down and kill him like a dog I swear it the exaggerated Folly of the threat the passionate gesture that accompanied it the Mad melodramatic words made life seem more Vivid to her she was familiar with the atmosphere she breathed more freely and for the first time for many months she really admired her son she would have liked to have continued the scene on the same emotional scale but he cut her short drunks had to be carried down Mufflers looked for the lodging house drudge bustled in and out there was the bargaining with the cat man the moment was lost in vulgar details it was with a renewed feeling of disappointment that she waved the tattered lace handkerchief from the window as her son drove away she was conscious that a great opportunity had been wasted she consoled herself by telling Sybil how desolate she felt her life would be now that she had only one child to look after she remembered the phrase it had pleased her of the threat she said nothing it was vividly and dramatically expressed she felt that they would all offered him someday I suppose you have heard the newsbezzle said Lord Henry that evening as hallwood was shown into a little private room at the Bristol where dinner had been laid for three no Harry answered the artist giving his hat and coat to the Belling waiter what is it nothing about politics I hope they don't interest me there's hardly a single person in the house of commonsworth painting though many of them would be the better for a little whitewashing Dorian Gray is engaged to be married said Lord Henry watching him as he spoke forward started and then frowned Dorian caged to be married impossible it is perfectly true to whom to some little actress or other I can't believe it Dorian is far too sensible Dorian is far too wise not to do foolish things now and then my dear basil marriage is hardly a thing that one can do now and then Harry except in America rejoined Lord Henry languidly but I didn't say he was married I said he was engaged to be married there is a great difference I have a distinct remembrance of being married but I have no recollection at all of being engaged I'm inclined to think that I never was engaged think of dorian's birth and position and wealth it would be absurd for him to marry so much beneath him if you want to make him marry this girl then tell him that basil he's sure to do it then whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing it is always from the noblest motives I hope the girl is good Harry I don't want to see Dorian tied to some vile creature who might degrade his nature and ruin his intellect oh she is better than good she's beautiful mermaid Lord Henry sipping a glass of vermouth and orange bitters Dorian says she's beautiful and he's often not wrong about that kind of thing your portrait of him has quickened his appreciation of the personal appearance of other people it has had that excellent effect amongst others we're to see her tonight if the boy doesn't forget his appointment are you serious quite serious basil I should be miserable if I thought I should ever be more serious than I am at the present moment but do you approve of it Harry ask the painter walking up and down the room biting his lip you can't approve of it possibly it's some silly infatuation I never approve or disapprove of anything now it's an absurd attitude to take towards life we're not sent into the world to air our moral prejudices I never take any notice of what common people say and I never interfere with what Charming people do if a personality fascinates me whatever mode of expression that personality selects is absolutely delightful to me Dorian Gray falls in love with a beautiful girl who acts Juliet and proposes to marry her why not if he wedded messalina he would be nonetheless interesting you know I'm not a champion of marriage the real drawback to marriage is that it makes one unselfish and unselfish people that color this they lack individuality still there are certain temperaments that marriage makes more complex they retain that egotism and add to it many other egos they're forced to have more than one life they become more highly organized and to be highly organized is I should fancy the object of man's existence besides every experiences of value and whatever one may say against marriage it is certainly an experience I hope that Dorian Gray will make this girl his wife passionately adore her for six months and then suddenly become fascinated by someone else he would be a wonderful study you don't mean a single word of all that Harry you know you don't if Dorian Gray's life was spoiled no one would be sorier than yourself you're much better than you pretend to be Lord Henry you laughed the reason we all think so well of others is that we're all afraid of ourselves the basis of optimism is sheer Terror we think we're generous because we credit our neighbor with the possession of those virtues that are likely to be a benefit to us we praise the banker that may overdraw our account and find good qualities in The Highwaymen in the hope he may spare our pockets I mean everything that I have said I have the greatest contempt for optimism as for a spoiled life no life is spoiled but one whose growth is arrested if you want to Mara nature you have merely to reform it as for marriage of course that would be silly but there are other and more interesting bonds between men and women I will certainly encourage them they have the charm of being fashionable but here is Dorian himself he will tell you more than I can my dear Harry my dear basil you must both congratulate me said the lad throwing off his evening cave with its satin lined wings and shaking each of his friends by the hand in turn I have never been so happy of course it is sudden all really delightful things are yet it seems to me to be the one thing I've been looking for all my life he was flushed with excitement and pleasure and looked extraordinarily handsome I hope you will always be very happy Dorian said holwood but I don't forgive you for not having let me know of your engagement you let Harry know and I don't forgive you for being late for dinner broke in Lord Henry putting his hand on the lad's shoulder and smiling as he spoke come but I sit and try what the new Chef here is like and then you will tell us how it all came about there's really not much to tell Craig Dorian they took their seats at the small round table what happened was simply this after I left you yesterday evening Harry I dressed and had some dinner at that little Italian restaurant in Rupert Street that you introduced me to and I went down at eight o'clock to the theater civil was playing Rosalind of course the scenery was Dreadful and the Orlando absurd but Sybil should have seen her when she came on in her boy's clothes she was perfectly wonderful she wore a moss-colored velvet jerkin with cinnamon sleeves Slim Brown cross-garted hose a dainty little green cap with a hawks feather caught in a jewel in a hooded cloak lined with dull red she had never seemed to me more exquisite she had all the delicate Grace of that tanagra figurine that you have in your studio her hair clustered around her face like dark leaves around a pale Rose as for her acting well you shall see her tonight she is simply a born artist he sat in that dingy box absolutely enthralled I forgot I was in London and in the 19th century I was away with my love in a forest that no man had ever seen after the performance was over I went behind and spoke to her as we were sitting together suddenly there came into her eyes a look that I had never seen before my lips moved towards hers we kissed each other I Can't Describe to you what I felt at that moment it seemed to me that all my life had been narrowed to one perfect point of rose-colored joy trembled all over and shook like a white Narcissus and then she flung herself on her knees and kissed my hands I feel I should not tell you all of this but I can't help it of course our engagement is a dead secret she has not even told her own mother I don't know what my Guardians will say Lord Radley is sure to be furious I don't care I shall be of age in less than a year then I can do what I like I have been right basil haven't I to take my love out of poetry and find my wife in Shakespeare's place lips that Shakespeare taught to speak have whispered their secret in my ear I've had the arms of Rosalind around me and kissed Juliet on the mouth yeah story and I suppose you were right said hallwood slowly have you seen her today ask Lord Henry Dorian Gray shook his head I left her in the forest of ardana she'll find her in an orchard in Verona Old Henry sipped his champagne in a meditative manner at what particular Point did you mention the word marriage Dorian and what did she say in answer cause you forgot all about it my dear Harry I did not treat it as a business transaction and I did not make any formal proposal I told her that I loved her and she said she was not worthy to be my wife not worthy why the whole world is nothing to me compared with her women are wonderfully practical hermit Lord Henry much more practical than we are in situations of that kind we often forget to say anything about marriage and they always remind us forward laid his hand upon his arm don't Harry you've annoyed Dorian he's not like other men he would never bring misery upon anyone his nature is too fine for that Lord Henry looked across the table Dorian is never annoyed with me I asked the question for the best reason possible for the only reason indeed that excuses one for asking any question simple curiosity I have a theory that it is always the women who have proposed to us and not we who propose to the women except of course in middle class life but then the middle classes are not modern Dorian Gray Loft and tossed his head you are quite incorrigible Harry but I don't mind it is impossible to be angry with you when you see Sybil vain you will feel that the man who could wrong her would be a beast a beast without a heart I cannot understand how anyone can wish to shame the thing he loves I love civil vain I want to place her on a pedestal of gold and to see the world worship the woman who is mine What is marriage an irrevocable vow you must mock at it for that don't mock it is an irrevocable vow that I want to take her trust makes me faithful her belief makes me good when I am with her I regret all that you have taught me I become different from what you have known me to be I am changed the mere Touch of civil Vain's hand makes me forget you and all of your wrong fascinating poisonous delightful theories and those are ask Lord Henry helping himself to some salad oh your theories about life your theories about love your theories about pleasure all your theories in fact Harry pleasure is the only thing worth having a theory about he answered in a slow melodious voice but I am afraid I cannot claim my theory as my own it belongs to Nature not to me pleasure is Nature's test her sign of approval when we are happy we are always good when we are good we are not always happy what do you mean by good cried basil yes Ecuadorian neck in his chair and looking at Lord Henry over heavy clusters of purple lipped irises that stood in the center of the table what do you mean by good Harry to be good is to be in harmony with oneself he replied touching the thin stem of his glass with his pale fine pointed fingers Discord is to be forced to be in harmony with others one's own life that is the important thing as for the lives of one's neighbors if one wishes to be a prig or a Puritan one can flaunt one's moral views about them but they are not one's concern besides individualism is really the higher aim modern morality consists in accepting the standard of one's age I consider that for any man of culture to accept the standard of his age as a form of the grossest immorality surely if one lives merely for oneself Harry one pays a terrible price for doing so suggested the painter yes we are overcharged for everything nowadays I should fancy that the real tragedy of the poor is that they can afford nothing but self-denial beautiful sins like beautiful things are the privilege of the rich one has to pay in other ways but money what sort of ways basil I should fancy remorse in suffering in the consciousness of degradation Lord Henry Shrugged his shoulders my dear fellow medieval art is charming but medieval emotions are out of date one can use them in fiction of course but then the only things that no one can use in fiction are the things that one has ceased to use in fact believe me no civilized man ever regrets a pleasure and no uncivilized man ever knows what a pleasure is I know what a pleasure is cried Dorian Gray to adore someone that is certainly better than being adored he answered toying with some fruits being adored is a nuisance women treat us just as Humanity treats its gods they worship us and are always bothering us to do something for them I should have said that whatever they asked for us they had first given to us a moment the loud greatly they create love in our Natures they have a right to demand it back that is quite true Dorian cried hallwood nothing is ever quite true said Lord Henry this is interrupted Dorian you must admit Harry that women give to men the very gold of their lives possibly he signed but they invariably want it back in such very small change that is a worry women as some witty Frenchman once but it Inspire us with the desire to do masterpieces and always prevent us from carrying them out Harry you are Dreadful I don't know why I like you so much you will always like me Dorian will you have some coffee you fellas waiter bring coffee and find champagne and some cigarettes don't mind the cigarettes I have some basil I can't allow you to smoke cigars you must have a cigarette a cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure it is exquisite it leaves one unsatisfied what more can one want yes Dorian you will always be fond of me I represent to you all the sins that you have never had the courage to commit or nonsense you talk Harry cried the lad taking a light from a fire breathing Silver Dragon that the waiter had placed on the table let us go down to the theater and when Sybil comes to the stage you will have a new ideal of life she will represent something to you that you have never known I have known everything said Lord Henry with a tired look in his eyes but I am always ready for a new emotion I am afraid however that for me at any rate there is no such thing still you're a wonderful girl may Thrill Me I love acting it is so much more real than life let us go Dorian you will come with me I'm so sorry basil but there is only room for two in the broom you must follow us in a handsome they got up and put on their coats sipping their coffee standing the painter was silent and preoccupied there was a Gloom over him he could not bear this marriage and yet it seemed to him to be better than many other things that might have happened after a few minutes they all passed downstairs he drove off by himself as had been arranged and watched the flashing lights of the little room in front of him a strange sense of loss came over him he felt that Dorian Gray would never again lead to him all that he had been in the past life had come between them His Eye Is darkened and the crowded flaring streets became blurred to his eyes when the cab Drew up at the theater it seemed to him that he had grown years older chapter 7. for some reason or rather the house was crowded that night and the fat manager who met them at the door was beaming from ear to ear with an oily tremulous smile he escorted them to their box with a sort of pompous humility waving his fat jeweled hands talking at the top of his voice Dorian Gray loathed him more than ever he felt as if he had come to look for Miranda and had been met by caliban Lord Henry up on the other hand rather liked him at least he declared that he did and insisted on shaking him by the hand and assuring him that he was very proud to meet a man who had discovered a real genius and gone bankrupt over a puppet Allwood amused himself watching the faces in the pit the heat was terribly impressive and the huge sunlight flamed like a monstrous Dahlia with Petals of yellow fire the youths in the gallery had taken off their coats and waistcoats and hung them over by the side they talked to each other across the theater and shared their oranges with tortry girls who sat beside them some women were laughing in the pit their voices were horribly shrill and discordant the sound of popping of corks came from the bar what a place to find one's Divinity in said Lord Henry yes answer Dorian Gray it was here I found her she is divine beyond all living things and she acts you will forget everything these common rough people with their coarse faces and brutal gestures become quite different when she is on stage they sit silently and watch her they weep and laugh as she Wills them to do she makes them as responsive as a violin she spiritualizes them and one feels that they are of the same flesh and blood as oneself the same flesh and blood as oneself oh I hope not to exclaim thought Henry it was scanning the occupants of the Gathering through his opera glass don't pay any attention to him Dorian said the painter I understand what you mean and I believe in this girl anyone that you love must be marvelous and any girl who has the effect that you describe must be fine and Noble spiritualize one's age that is something worth doing if this girl can give a soul to those who have lived without one if she can create the sense of Beauty in people whose lives have been sordid and ugly if she can strip them of their selfishness and lend them tears for Sorrows that are not their own she's worthy of all of your adoration worthy of the Adoration of the world this marriage is quite right I did not think so at first but I admit it now the gods made civil vain for you without her you would have been incomplete that's all answered Dorian pressing his hand I knew you would understand me Harry is so cynical he terrifies me but here is the orchestra it's quite Dreadful but it only lasts for five minutes then the curtain Rises and you will see the girl to whom I am going to give all my life to whom I have given everything that is good in me a quarter of an hour afterwards emits an extraordinary turmoil of pause civil van stepped onto the stage yes she was certainly lovely to look at one of the loveliest creatures that Lord Henry thought he had ever seen something of the thorn in her shy Grace and startled eyes a faint blush like the shadow of a rose in a mirror of silver came to her cheeks as she glanced at the crowded enthusiastic house she stepped back a few paces and her lips seemed to tremble as a whole wood left to his feet and began to applaud motionless and as one in a dream sat Dorian Gray Lord Henry appeared through his glasses murmuring Charming Charming the scene was the Hall of capulet's house and Romeo in his Pilgrim's dress had entered with Mercutio and friends the band such as it was struck up a few bars of music and the dance began through the crowd of ungainly shabbily dressed actors or vane moved like a creature from a finer world her body swayed while she danced as a plant sways in the water curves of her throat were the curves of a white lily her hands seemed to be made of cool ivory yet she was curiously listless she showed no signs of Joy when her eyes rested on Romeo a few words that she did have to speak good Pilgrim you do wrong your hands too much which manually devotion shows in this for Saints have hands that Pilgrim's hands do touch and palm to Palm is Holy Palmer's kiss with the brief dialogue that follows were spoken in a thoroughly artificial manner the voice was exquisite but from the point of view of tone it was absolutely false it was wrong in color it took away all the life from the verse it made the passion unreal Dorian Gray grew pale as he watched her he was puzzled and anxious neither of his friends dared to say anything to him she seemed to them to be absolutely incompetent they were horribly disappointed yet they felt that the true test of any Juliet is the balcony scene of the second act they waited for that you failed there there was nothing in her she looked Charming as she came out in the Moonlight that could not be denied but the staginess of her acting was unbearable and grew worse as she went on her gestures became absurdly artificial she ever emphasized everything that she had to say the beautiful passage thou knowest the mask of night is on my face else would have made in blush but paint my cheek for that which thou has heard me speak tonight was declaimed with the painful Precision of a school girl who has been taught to recite by some second-rate professor of elocution when she leaned over the balcony and came to those wonderful lines although I enjoying me I have no joy of this contract tonight it is too rash too unadvised too sudden to like the lightning which doth cease to be here one can say it lightens sweet good night this bird of Love by Summer's ripening breath may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet she spoke the words as though they conveyed no meaning to her it was not nervousness indeed so far from being nervous that she was absolutely self-contained it was simply bad art she was a complete failure even the common uneducated audience of the pit and gallery lost their interest in the play they got restless and again to talk loudly and to whistle the manager who was standing at the back of the dress Circle stamped and swore with rage the only person unmoved was the girl herself when the second act was over there came a storm of hisses Lord Henry got up from his chair and put on his coat she is quite beautiful Dorian but she can't act let us go I'm going to see the play through answered the lad in a hard bitter voice I'm awfully sorry that I've made you waste an evening Harry I apologize to you both my dear Dorian I think Miss vayne was Ill interrupted hallwood we'll come some other night I wish she were ill he rejoined she seems to me to be simply callous and cold she has entirely altered last night she was a great artist this evening she is merely a commonplace mediocre actress don't talk like that about the one you loved Dorian love is more a wonderful thing than art they are both simply forms of imitation remarked Lord Henry but do let us go Dorian you must not stay here any longer it's not good for one's morals to see bad acting besides I don't suppose you will want your wife to act so what does it matter if she plays Juliet like a wooden doll she's very lovely and if she knows as little about life as she does about acting she will be a delightful experience there are only two kinds of people who are really fascinating people who know absolutely everything and people who know absolutely nothing good happens my dear boy don't look so tragic The Secret of remaining young is to never have an emotion that is Unbecoming come to the club with basil and myself we will smoke cigarettes and drink to the beauty of civil vain she is beautiful what more can you want go away Harry I want to be alone basil you must go can't you see that my heart is breaking the hot tears came to his eyes his lips trembled rushing back to the box he leaned up against the wall hiding his face in his hands let us go battle said Lord Henry with a strange tenderness in his voice and the two young men passed out together a few moments afterwards the Footlights flared up the curtain rose on the third Act Dorian Gray went back to his seat he looked pale and proud and indifferent play dragged on and seemed interminable half of the audience went out tramping in heavy boots laughing the whole thing was a fiasco the last Act was played to almost empty benches the curtain went down on a titter and some groans as soon as it was over Dorian Gray rushed behind the scenes into the Green Room the girl was standing there alone with a look of Triumph on her face her eyes were lit with an Exquisite fire there was a Radiance about her parted lips was smiling over some secret of Their Own when he entered she looked at him in an expression of infinite joy and came over her how badly I acted tonight Dorian she cried horribly he answered gazing at her in amazement horribly it was Dreadful are you ill you have no idea what it was you have no idea what I suffered the girl smiled Dorian she answered lingering over his name with long drawn music in her voice as though it were sweeter than honey to the red Petals of her mouth should have understood but you understand now don't you understand what he asked why I was so bad tonight She'll always be bad why I shall never act well again he Shrugged his shoulders you are ill I suppose when you're ill you shouldn't act you make yourself ridiculous my friends were bored I was bored he seemed not to listen to him she was transfigured with joy and Ecstasy of Happiness dominated her Dorian Dorian she cried before I knew you acting was the one reality of my life it was only in the theater that I lived I thought it was all true I was Rosalind one night Porsche the other the joy of Beatrice was my joy the Sorrows of Cordelia were mine also I believed in everything the common people who acted with me seemed to me to be Godlike the painted scenes were my world I knew nothing but shadows and I thought them real you came my beautiful love and you freed my soul from prison you taught me what reality really is tonight for the first time in my life I saw through the hollowness and the silliness of the empty pageant in which I had always played tonight for the first time I became conscious that the Romeo was hideous and old and painted that the Moonlight in the orchard was false that the scenery was falca that the words I had to speak were unreal were not my words were not what I wanted to say you had brought me something higher something of which all art is utter reflection you had made me understand what love really is my love my love Prince Charming Prince of Life I have grown sick of Shadows you are more to me than all art can ever be what have I to do with the puppets of a play when I came on tonight I could not understand how it was that everything had gone from me I thought that I was going to be wonderful found that I could do nothing suddenly it dawned on my soul what it all meant the knowledge was Exquisite to me I heard them hissing and I smiled what could they know of Love such as ours Take Me Away Dorian take me away with you where we can be quiet alone hate the stage I might mimic a passion that I do not feel but I cannot mimic one that burns me like fire you understand now what it signifies even if I could do it it would be a profanation for me to play it being in love you have made me see that he flung himself down on the sofa and turned away his face you have killed my love he muttered she looked at him in Wonder and laughed he made no answer she came across to him and with her little fingers stroked his hair she knelt down and pressed his hands to her lips he drew them away a shot I ran through him he leapt up and went to the door yes he cried you have killed my love you used to stir my imagination now you don't even stir my curiosity you simply produce no effect I loved you because you were marvelous because you had genius and intellect because you realized the dreams of great poets and gave shape and substance to the shadows of Art you have thrown it all the way you were shallow and stupid my God how mad I was to love you what a fool I have been you were nothing to me now I will never see you again I will never think of you I will never mention your name you don't know what you were to me once once I can't bear to think of it I wish I had never laid eyes upon you you have spoiled the romance of my life how little you can know of love if you say it Mars your art without your art you were nothing I would have made you famous Splendid Magnificent the world would have worshiped you and you would have borne my name what are you now third ranked actress with a pretty face the girl grew white and trembled she clenched her hands together and her voice seemed to catch in her throat you're not serious Dorian you're acting I leave that to you you do it so well he answered bitterly she Rose from her knees and with a piteous expression of pain in her face came across the room to him she put her hand upon his arm and looked into his eyes he thrust her back don't touch me he cried a low moan broke from her and she flung herself at his feet and lay there like a trampled flower doing don't leave me she whispered I'm so sorry I didn't act well I was thinking of you all the time but I will try I I came so suddenly across me my love for you I think I should never have known it if you had not kissed me if we had not kissed each other kiss me again my love don't go away from me Baron don't go away from me never mind my brother he didn't mean it he was in chess but can't you forgive me for tonight I will work so hard and try to improve don't be cruel to me because I I love you better than anything in the world after all it is only once that I have not pleased you but you are quite right Dorian I should have shown myself more of an artist it was foolish of me and yet I couldn't help it don't leave me don't leave me a fit of passionate sobbing choked her she crouched on the floor like a wounded thing Dorian Gray with his beautiful eyes looked down at her his chiseled lips curled in Exquisite disdain there is always something ridiculous about the emotions of people whom one has ceased to love Sybil vain seemed to him to be absurdly melodramatic her tears and Psalms annoyed him I'm going he said at last in a calm clear voice I don't wish to be unkind but I can't see you again you have disappointed me she wept silently and made no answer but crept nearer her little hands stretched blindly out and appeared to be seeking for him he turned on his heel and left the room in a few moments he was out of the theater where he went he hardly knew he remembered wandering through dimly lit streets past Gorn black shadowed archways and evil looking houses women with hoarse voices and harsh laughter had called after him drunkards had reeled by cursing chattering to themselves like monstrous Apes he had seen grotesque children huddled upon doorsteps and had shrieks and Oaths from gloomy courts as the Dawn was just breaking he found himself close to Covent Garden the darkness lifted and flushed with faint fires Sky hollowed itself into a perfect Pearl huge carts filled with nodding lilies rumbled slowly down polished empty streets the air was Heavy with the perfume of the flowers and their beauty seemed to bring him in an Anodyne for his pain followed into the market and watched the man unloading their wagons a white smocked Carter offered him some cherries he thanked him wondered why he refused to accept any money for them and began to eat them listlessly they had been parked at midnight in the coldness of the Moon had entered into them a long line of boys carrying crates of striped tulips and of yellow and red roses defiled in front of him threading their way through huge jade green piles of vegetables under the Portico with its gray sunbleached pillars loited a troop of draggled bear-headed girls waiting for the auction to be over others crowded rounds Swinging Doors of the coffee house and the Piazza the heavy con horses slipped and stamped upon the rap stones shaking their bells and trappings some of the drivers were laying asleep on a pile of sex Iris necked and pink footed the pigeons ran about picking up scenes after a little while he hailed a handsome and drove home for a few minutes he loited upon the doorstep looked round at the silent square with its blank closed shuttered windows and its staring blinds the sky was pure opal now the roofs of the house is glistened like silver against it from some chimney opposite a thin wreath of smoke was Rising in the huge guilt Venetian Lantern spoil of some Doge's barge that hung from the ceiling of the Great Oak paneled Hall of entrance lights were still burning from three flickering Jets Thin Blue Petals of flame they seemed rimmed with white fire he turned them out and having thrown his hat and cape on the table passed through the library towards the door of his bedroom a large octagonal chamber on the ground floor in his newborn feeling for luxury he had just had it decorated for himself and hung with some Curious Renaissance tapestries that had been discovered stored in a disused attic at Selby Royal as he was turning the handle of the door his eyes fell upon the portrait that basil hallwood had painted of him he started back at it as if in Surprise then went on into his own room looking somewhat puzzled after he had taken the buttonhole out of his coat he seemed to hesitate he came back and went over to the picture and examined it in the dim arrested light that struggled through the cream-colored silk blinds the face appeared to him to be a little changed the expression looked different one would have said that there was a touch of Cruelty in the mouth certainly strange he turned around and walking to the window Drew up the blind the bright Dawn flooded the Roman swept the Fantastic Shadows into Dusky Corners where they lay shuddering but the strange expression that he had noticed in the face of the portrait seemed to linger there to be more intensified even the quivering Ardent sunlight showed him the lines of Cruelty around the mouth as clearly as if he had been looking into a mirror after he had done some Dreadful thing he winced and taking up from the table an oval glass framed in Ivory Cupids one of Lord Henry's many presents to him glanced hurriedly into its polished deaths I would line like that warped his red lips what did it mean he rubbed his eyes and came close to the picture and examined it again there were no signs of any change when he looked into the actual painting yeah there was no doubt that the whole expression had altered it was not a mere fancy of his own the thing was horribly apparent he threw himself into a chair and began to think suddenly there flashed across his mind what he had said in basil Hall at Studio the day the picture had been finished yes he remembered it perfectly he had uttered a mad wish that he himself might remain Young and the portrait grew old that his Beauty might be untarnished in the face on the canvas bear the burden of his passions and his sins painted image might be seared with the lines of suffering thought and that he might keep all the delicate Bloom and loveliness of his then just conscious Boyhood surely his wish had not been fulfilled such things are impossible it seemed monstrous even to think of them and yet there was the picture before him with a touch of Cruelty in the mouth cruelty had he been cruel it was the girl's fault not his he had dreamed of her as a great artist and given his love to her because he had thought her great then she had disappointed him she had been shallow and unworthy and yet a feeling of infinite regret came over him he thought of her lying At His Feet sobbing like a little child he remembered with what callousness he had watched her why it even like that why had such a soul been given to him that he had suffered also during the three terrible hours that the play had lasted he had lived centuries of pain Eon upon eon of torture his life was well worth hers she admired him for a moment if he had wounded her for an age besides women were better suited to Bear sorrow than men they lived on their emotions they only thought of their emotions when they took lovers it was merely to have someone with whom they could have scenes Lord Henry had told him that and Lord Henry knew what women were why should he travel about civil vain she was nothing to him now the picture what was he to say of that it held the secret of his life told his story it had taught him to love his own Beauty would it teach him to loathe his own soul would he have a look at it again now it was merely an illusion brought on troubled senses the horrible night that had passed had left Phantoms behind suddenly they had fallen upon his brain a tiny Scarlet Speck that makes men mad the picture had not changed it was Folly to think so yet it was watching him with its beautiful marred face in its cruel smile bright hair gleamed in the early sunlight its blue eyes meant his own sense of infinite pity not for himself to the image of himself it had altered already and would alter more its gold would wither into Gray it's red and white roses would die for every sin that he committed stain would Fleck and wreck its fairness but he would not sin the picture changed or unchanged would be to him the visible emblem of conscience he would resist temptation he would not see Lord Henry anymore would not at any rate listen to those subtle poisonous theories in basil horde's Garden Hood first start within him the passion for impossible things he would go back to civil vain make her amends marry her try to love her again it was his duty to do so she must have suffered more than he had poor child he had been selfish and cruel to her the fascination that she had excess would return they would be happy together his life with her would be beautiful and pure he got up from his chair through a large screen right in front of the portrait shuddering as he glanced at it horrible he murdered himself he walked across to the window and opened it when he stepped out on the grass he drew a deep breath fresh morning air seemed to drive away all of his somber Passions he thought only of civil Coop of his love came back to him he repeated her name over and over again the birds that were singing in the dew-drenched garden seemed to be telling the flowers about her it was long past noon when he awoke his valet had crept several times on tiptoe into the room to see if he was stirring and had wondered what made his young Master sleep so late finally his Bell sounded Victor came in softly with a cup of tea in a pile of letters on a small tray of old China and Drew back the olive satin curtains with their shimmering blue lining that hung in front of three tall windows Masher has slept well this morning he said smiling what a clock is it Victor ask Dorian Gray drowserly one hour and a quarter Michelle how late it was set up having sipped some tea turned over his letters one of them was from Lord Henry and had been brought by hand that morning he hesitated for a moment and then put it aside the others he opened listlessly they contained the usual collection of cards invitations to dinner tickets for private views programs of Charity concerts and the like all that are showered on fashionable young men every morning during the season there was a rather heavy bill for a silver toilet set that he had not yet had the courage to send on to his Guardians who were extremely old-fashioned people and did not realize that we live in an age when unnecessary things are our only necessities and there were several very courteously worded Communications from German Street money lenders offering to advance any sum of money at a moment's notice and at the most reasonable rate of interest after about 10 minutes he got up throwing on an elaborate dressing gown of silk embroidered cashmere wool passed into the Onyx paved bathroom the cool water refreshed him after his long sleep he seemed to have forgotten all that he had gone through a dim sense of having Taken part in some strange tragedy came to him once or twice but there was the unreality of a dream about it as soon as he was dressed he went into the library and sat down to a light French breakfast that had been laid out on for him on a small round table close to the open window it was an Exquisite day the warm air seemed Laden with spices a bee flew in and buzzed round the Blue Dragon Bowl filled with sulfur yellow roses he felt perfectly happy suddenly his eye fell on the screen that he had placed in front of the portrait and he started too cold for Monsieur asked his family putting an omelet on the table I shut the window Dorian shook his head I'm not cold he murmured was it all true had the portrait really changed had it been simply his own imagination that had made him see a look of evil where there had been a look of joy surely a painted canvas could not alter the thing was absurd it would serve as a tale to tell basil someday it would make him smile and yet how Vivid was his recollection of the whole thing first in the dim Twilight then in the bright Dawn he had seen the touch of Cruelty around the wall to he almost dreaded his Valley leaving the room he knew that when he was alone he would have to examine the portrait he was afraid of certainty when the coffee and cigarettes had been brought and the man turned to go he felt a wild desire to tell him to remain as the door was closing behind him he called him back the man stood waiting for his orders Dorian looked at him for a moment I am not at home to anyone Victor he said with a sigh the man bowed and retired then he rose from the table lit a cigarette and flung himself down on a luxuriously cushioned couch stood facing the screen the screen was an old one guilt Spanish Leather stamped and wrought with a rather florid pattern he scanned it curiously wondering if ever before it had concealed The Secret of a man's life should he move it aside after all why not let it stay there what was the use of knowing if the thing was true it was terrible if it was not true why trouble about it but what if by some fate or deadly a chance eyes other than his spied behind and saw the horrible change should he do if as a whole wood came and asked to look at his own picture as I would be sure to do that no the thing had to be examined and at once better than this Dreadful state of doubt he got up and locked both doors at least he would be alone when he looked upon the mask of his shame drew the screen aside and saw himself face to face it was perfectly true the portrait had altered as he often remembered afterwards and always with no Small Wonder he found himself at first gazing at the portrait with a feeling of almost scientific interest such a change could have taken place was incredible to him and yet it was a fact was there some subtle Affinity between the chemical atoms that shaped themselves into a form and color on the canvas and the soul that was within him could it be that what that Soul thought they realized what it dreamed they made true or was there some other more terrible reason shuddered and felt afraid going back on the couch lay there gazing at the picture in sick and horror one thing however he felt that it had done for him it had made him conscious how unjust how cruel he had been to civil vain it was not too late to make reparations for that she could still be his wife is unreal and selfish love would yield to some higher influence would be transformed into some Noble a passion or trait that basil hallwood had painted of him would be a guide to him through life it would be to him what Holiness is to some conscience to others and the fear of God to us all there were opiates for remorse drugs that could lull the moral sense to sleep but here was a visible symbol of the degradation of sin here was an ever-present sign of the ruined men brought upon their souls three o'clock struck and for and the half hour rang its double chime the Dorian Gray did not stir he was trying to gather up the Scarlet threads of life to weave them into a pattern to find his way through the sanguine Labyrinth of passion through which he was wondering he did not know what to do or what to think finally he went over to the table and wrote a passionate letter to the girl he had loved imploring her forgiveness accusing himself of Madness he covered page after page with wild wild words of sorrow and Wilder words of pain there is a luxury and self-reproach when we blame ourselves we feel that no one else has a right to blame us it is the confession not the priest when Dorian had finished the letter felt that he had been forgiven suddenly there came a knock at the door he heard Lord Henry's voice outside my dear boy I must see you let me in at once I can't bear you are shutting yourself up like this he made no answer at first that remained quite still the knocking still continued and grew louder yes it was better to let Lord Henry in to explain to him the new life he was going to lead to quarrel with him if it became necessary to quarrel part if parting was inevitable he jumped up drew the screen hastily across the picture and unlocked the door I'm so sorry for it all Dorian said Lord Henry as he entered you must not think too much about it do you mean about civil vain ask the lad yes of course answered Lord Henry sinking into a chair slowly pulling off his yellow gloves it is Dreadful from one point of view but it was not your fault tell me did you go behind and see her after the play was over yes I felt sure you had did you make a scene with her I was brutal Harry perfectly brutal but it's all right now I am not sorry for anything that has happened it's taught me to know myself better ah Dorian I'm so glad you take it that way I was afraid I would find you plunged in remorse tearing that nice curly hair of yours I have got through all that said Dorian shaking his head and smiling I am perfectly happy now I know what conscience is to begin with it's not what you told me it is it is the divinest thing in US don't snare at it Harry anymore at least not before me I want to be good they can't bear the idea of my soul being hideous a very Charming artistic basis for ethics historian I congratulate you on it but how are you going to begin by marrying civil vain marrying civil vain cried Lord Henry standing up and looking at him in a herplexed amazement my dear Dorian yes Harry I know what you're going to say something Dreadful about marriage don't say it don't ever say things of that kind to me again two days ago I asked Sybil to marry me I'm not going to break my word to her cheers to be my wife your wife Dorian didn't you get my letter I wrote to you this morning and sent the note down by my own man your letter oh yes I remember I've not read it yet Harry I was afraid there might be something in it that I wouldn't like you cut life to pieces with your epigrams you know nothing then what do you mean Lord Henry walked across the room and sitting down by Dorian Gray took both his hands and his own and held them tightly Dorian he said my letter don't be frightened was to tell you civil vain is dead Cry of pain broke from the landslips and he leaped to his feet tearing his hands away from Lord Henry's grasp dead civil dead it's not true it's a horrible lie how dare you say it it is quite true Dorian said Lord Henry bravely it's in all the morning papers I wrote down to you to ask you not to see anyone till like till I came there will have to be an inquest of course and you must not be mixed up in it things like that make a man fashionable in Paris but in London people are so prejudiced here one should never make one's debut with a scandal one should Reserve that to give an interest to one's old age I suppose they don't know your name at the theater if they don't it's all right did anyone see you going around to her room that's an important point Dorian did not answer for a few moments he was Dazed with horror finally he stammered in a stifled voice Harry did you say an inquest what do you mean by that did Sybil Harry I can't bear it be quick tell me everything at once I have no doubt it was not an accident Dorian though it must be put in that way to the public it seems that as she was leaving the theater with her mother about half 12 or so she said she had forgotten something upstairs they waited some time for her but she did not come down again they ultimately found her lying dead on the floor of her dressing room she'd swallowed something by mistake some Dreadful thing that they use at theaters I don't know what it was but is it either prusik acid or white lead in it fancy it was Bruce she seems to have died instantaneously Harry it is terrible cried the lad yes it's very tragic of course you must not get yourself mixed up in it I see by the standard that she was 17. I should have thought she was younger than that she looked like a child and seemed to know so little about acting Dorian you mustn't let this thing get on your nerves you must come and dine with me afterwards we'll look in at the Opera it's a Patty night everybody will be there you can come to my sister's box she's got some smart women with her so I've murdered sybilvane said Dorian Gray after himself murdered her as surely as if I had cut her little throat with a knife the roses are not less lovely for all that the birds sing just as happily in my garden tonight I'm to dine with you onto the Opera and sup somewhere I suppose afterwards how extraordinarily dramatic life is if I had read all this in the book Harry I I think I would have wept over it somehow now that it has happened actually in to me seems far too wonderful for Tears here is the first passionate love letter I've ever written in my life strange that my first passionate love letter should have been addressed to a dead girl can they feel I wonder those white silent people that we call the Dead civil can she feel or know or listen Harry how I loved her once it seems years ago to me now she was everything to me then came that Dreadful night was it really only last night when she played so badly and my heart almost broke she explained it all to me it was terribly pathetic I was not moved a bit I thought her shallow suddenly something happened that made me afraid I can't tell you what it was but it was terrible I said I would go back to her I felt I had done wrong and now she's dead my God my God Harry what shall I do you don't know the danger I'm in there's nothing to keep me straight she would have done that for me she had no right to kill herself it was selfish of her my dear Dorian answered Lord Henry taking a cigarette from his case and producing a gold Latin Matchbox the only way a woman can ever reform a man is by boring him so completely that he loses all possible interest in life if you had married this girl you would have been wretched of course you would have treated her kindly one can always be kind to people about whom one cares nothing but she would have soon found out that you are absolutely indifferent and when a woman finds out that about her husband she either becomes dreadfully doubt he always wears very smart bonnets that some other woman's husband has to pay for I say nothing about the social mistake which would have been abject which of course I would not have allowed but I assure you that in any case the whole thing would have been an absolute failure I suppose it would muttered the lad and down the room and looking horribly pale but I thought it was my duty it's not my fault this terrible tragedy prevented me doing what was right I remember your saying once that there is a fatality about good resolutions they always are made too late mine certainly were good resolutions a useless attempts to interfere with scientific laws their origin is pure vanity their result is absolutely nil they give us now and then some of those luxurious sterile emotions that have a certain charm for the week that's all that can be said for them they are simply checks that men draw on a bank where they have no account Harry cried Dorian Gray coming over and sitting down beside him why is it that I can't feel this tragedy as much as I want to I don't think I'm heartless do you you've done too many foolish things during the last Fortnight to be entitled to give yourself that name Dorian lad frowned I don't like that explanation Harry but I'm glad that you don't think I'm heartless I'm nothing of the kind I know I'm not and yet I must admit that this thing that has happened does not affect me as it should it seems to me to be simply like a wonderful ending to a wonderful play it has all the Terrible Beauty of a Greek tragedy a tragedy in which I took a great part but by which I have not been wounded it is an interesting question said Lord Henry who found an Exquisite pleasure in playing on the land's unconscious egotism an extremely interesting question I fancy the true explanation is this it often happens that the real tragedies of Life occur in such a in artistic manner that they hurt us by their crude violence their absolute in coherence they're absurd wanted meaning their entire lack of style they affect us just as vulgarity affects us they give us an impression of sheer Brute Force and we revolt against that sometimes however a tragedy that possesses artistic elements of beauty crosses Our Lives if these elements of beauty are real the whole thing simply appeals to our sense of dramatic effect suddenly we find we are no longer the actors that the spectators of the play or rather we are both we watch ourselves the mere wonder of the spectacle enthralls us in the present case what is it that has really happened someone has killed herself for love you I wish that I had ever had such an experience it would have made me in love with love for the rest of my life the people who have adored me there have not been very many but there have been some have always insisted on living on long after I had ceased to care for them or they to care for me they have become Stout and tedious and when I meet them they go in at once for reminiscences it's awful memory of woman what a fearful thing it is what an utter intellectual stagnation it reveals one should absorb the color of life one should never remember its details details are always vulgar I must sow poppies in my garden side Dorian there is no necessity rejoined His companion life as always poppies in her hands of course now and then things linger I once wore nothing but violets all through one season as a form of artistic mourning for a romance that would not die ultimately however it did die I forget what killed it I think it was her proposing to sacrifice the whole world for me that's always a dreadful moment fills one with the terror of Eternity well would you believe it a week ago with Lady Hampshire's I found myself seated at dinner next to the lady in question she insisted on going over the whole thing again digging up the past waking up the future I had buried my romance in a bed of asphador she dragged it out again and assured me that I had spoiled her life I am bound to state that she ate an enormous dinner so I did not feel any anxiety taste she showed the one charm of the past is that it is the past women never know where the curtain has fallen they always want a sixth Act and as soon as the interest of the play is entirely over they propose to continue it they were allowed their own way every comedy would have a tragic ending and every tragedy would culminate in fast they are charmingly artificial but they have no sense of Art you are far more fortunate than I am I assure you Dorian that not one of the women that I have known would have done for me what sybilvane did for you ordinary women always console themselves some of them do it by going in for sentimental colors never trust a woman who wears mauve whatever her age may be or a woman over 35 who's fond of pink ribbons it means they have history others find a great consolation and suddenly discovering good qualities of their husbands they flaunt their conjugal Felicity in one's face as if it were the most fascinating of sins religion console some its Mysteries have all the charm of a flirtation a woman once told me and I can quite understand it the Saints it's one So Vain is being told that one is a sinner conscience makes egotists of us all yes there is really no end to the con stellations that find in Modern Life indeed I have not mentioned the most important one what's that Harry said the lad listlessly oh the obvious consolation taking someone else's admirer when one loses one zone in good society that always whitewashes a woman but really Dorian how different sybilvane must have been for women one meets there is something to me quite beautiful about her death I'm glad I'm living in a century when such wonders happen they make one believe in the reality of things that we all play with such as romance passion love I was terribly cruel to her you forget that I'm afraid women appreciate cruelty downright cruelty more than anything else they have wonderfully primitive instincts you've emancipated them but they remained slaves looking for Masters all the same they love being dominated I'm sure you were Splendid I've never seen you really and absolutely angry but I can fancy how delightful you looked and after all you said something to me the day before yesterday that seemed to me at the time to be fanciful bit that I see now was absolutely true and it holds the key to everything what was that Harry you said to me that civil vain represented to you all of the heroines of romance that she was Desdemona One Night in Ophelia the other that if she died as Juliet she came to life as Imogen she'll never come to life again now I'm uttered the lad burying his face in his hands now she will never come to life she's played her last part but you must think of that lonely death in the tortry dressing room simply as a strange lurid fragment from some Jacobian tragedy as a wonderful scene from Webster or Ford the girl never really lived and so she never really died to you at least she was always a dream a phantom that flitted through Shakespeare's plays and left them lovely after its presence a read through which Shakespeare's music sounded richer and more full of joy the moment she touched actual life she marred and it marred her so she passed away mourn for her failure if you like put ashes on your head because Cordelia was strangled cry out against Heaven because the daughter of brabantio died but don't waste your tears over civil vain she was less real than they are there was a silence the evening darkened in the room noiselessly and with silver feet the Shadows crept in from the garden the colors faded weirdly out of things after some time Dorian Gray looked up you've explained me to myself Harry he murmured with something of a sigh of relief I felt that you've said somehow I was afraid of it and I could not express it myself how well you know me but we will not talk again of what has happened it has been a marvelous experience that is all I wonder if life has still in store for me anything as marvelous life has everything in store for you Dorian there is nothing that you with your extraordinary good looks will not be able to do suppose Harry I became Haggard old wrinkled what then uh then said Lord Henry rising to go then my dear Dorian you would have to fight for your victories as it is they are brought to you now you must keep your good looks we live in an age that reads too much to be wise and thinks too much to be beautiful but you cannot spare you and now you had better dress and drive down to the club we are rather late as it is I think I shall join you at the Opera Harry I feel too tired to eat anything what's the number of your sister's box 27 I believe it's on the grand here you'll see her name on the door I'm sorry you won't come and dine I don't feel up to it said Dorian listlessly I'm awfully obliged to you for all that you've said to me you certainly are my best friend no one has ever understood me as you have only at the beginning of our friendship Dorian goodbye I shall see you before 9 30 I hope remember hatting is singing as he closed the door behind him Dorian Gray touched the Bell and in a few minutes Victor appeared with the lamps and Drew the blinds down he waited impatiently for him to go the man seemed to take an interminable time over everything as soon as he had left he rushed to the screen and Drew it back now there was no further change in the picture it had received the news of civil vane's death before he had known of it himself it was conscious of the events of life as they occurred The Vicious cruelty that marred the fine lines of the mouth had no doubt appeared at the very moment that the girl had drunk the poison whatever it was it indifferent to results did it merely take cognizance of what passed within the soul he wondered and hoped that someday he would see the change taking place before his very eyes shuddering as he hoped it poor civil what a romance it had all been she had often mimics death on the stage then death himself had touched her and taken her with him how had she played that Dreadful last scene had she cursed him as she died she had died for love of him and love would always be a sacrament to him now she had atoned for everything by the sacrifice that she had made of her life he would not think any more of what she had made him go through on that horrible night at the theater when he thought of her it would be as a wonderful tragic figure sent on to the world stage to show the Supreme reality of love a wonderful tragic figure tears came to his eyes as he remembered her childlike look and wins some fanciful ways and shy tremulous Grace he brushed them away hastily and looked again at the picture he felt that the time had really come for making his choice or had his choice already been made life had decided that for him life and his own infinite curiosity about life Eternal youth infinite passion Pleasures subtle and Secret wild Joys and Wilder sins he was to have all these things the portrait was to Bear the burden of his shame was all a feeling of pain crept over him as he thought of the desecration that was in store for the fair face on the canvas once in boyish mockery of narcissus he had kissed or feigned to kiss those painted lips that now smiled so coolly at him morning after morning he had sat before the portrait wondering at its beauty almost enamored of it as it seemed to him at times was it to alter now with every move to which he yielded was it to become a monstrous and loathsome thing to be hidden away in a locked room sunlight that had so often touched a brighter gold the waving Wonder of its hair do you have it for a moment he thought of praying that the horrible sympathy that existed between him and the picture might cease it had changed in answer to a prayer perhaps in answer to a prayer it might remain unchanged and yet who that knew anything about life would surrender the chance of remaining always however fantastic that chance might be or with the Fateful consequences it might be fraught besides was it really under his control had it indeed been prayer that had produced the substitution might there not be some Curious scientific reason for it all if thought could exercise its influence upon a living organism might not thought exercise and influence upon dead and inorganic things thing without thought or conscious desire might not things external to ourselves vibrate in unison with our moods and Passions atom calling to Adam in secret love or strange affinity but the reason was of no importance he would never again tempt by a prayer any terrible power if the picture was to alter it was to alter that was all why inquire too closely into it there would be a real pleasure in watching it you would be able to follow his mind into its secret places this portrait would be to him the most magical of mirrors as it had revealed to him his own body so it would reveal to him his own soul and when winter Came Upon it he would still be standing where spring trembles on the verge of Summer when the blood crept from its face and left behind a pallid mask of chalk with late mice you would keep the glamor of Boyhood not one Blossom of his loveliness would ever fade not one pulse of his life would ever weakened like the gods of the Greeks he would be strong and Fleet and joyous what did it matter what happened to the colored image on the canvas he would be safe that was everything he drew the screen back into its former place in front of the picture smiling as he did so and passed into his bedroom where his valet was already waiting for him an hour later he was at the Opera and Lord Henry was leaning over his chair as he was sitting at breakfast next morning I am so glad I have found eudorian he said Gravely I called last night and they told me you were at the Opera of course I knew that was impossible but I wish you had left word where you had really gone to I passed a dreadful evening half afraid that one tragedy might be followed by another I think you might have telegraphed for me when you heard of it first I read of it quite by chance in the late edition of the globe that I picked up at the club I came here at once and was miserable and not finding you I can't tell you how heartbroken I am about the whole thing I know what you must suffer but where were you did you go down and see the girl's mother for a moment I thought of following you there they gave the address in the paper somewhere in the Houston Road isn't it I was afraid of intruding Upon A sorrow that I could not lighten or woman what a state she must be in in her only child too what did she say about it all idea basil how do I know Mama Dorian Gray sipping some pale yellow wine delicate gold beaded bubble The Phoenician glass dreadfully I was at the Opera you should have come on there I met lady Gwendolyn Harry's sister for the first time you're in a box she's perfectly charming and Patty sang divinely don't talk about Horrid subjects if one doesn't talk about a thing it has never happened it is simply expression as hair says that gives reality to things I may mention that she was not the woman's only child there is a son a Charming fellow I believe he's not on the stage he's a sailor or something and now tell me about yourself and what are you painting you went to the Opera said Holbert speaking very slowly and with a strange Touch of pain in his voice you went to the Opera while Sybil vain was laying dead in some sordid lodging you can talk to me of other women being Charming of Patty singing divinely before the girl that you loved has even the quiet of a grave to sleep in why man there are Horrors in store for that little white body of hers stop basil I won't hear it quite Dorian leaping to his feet you must not tell me about things what he's done is done what is past is past you call yesterday the past what is actual lapse of time got to do with it it is only shallow people who require years to get rid of an emotion a man who was a master of himself can end a sorrow as easily as he can invent a pleasure I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions I want to use them to enjoy them to dominate them Dorian this is horrible something has changed you completely you look exactly as the same wonderful boy who day after day used to come down to my studio to sit for his picture but there were simple natural affectionate you are the most unspoiled creature in the whole world and now I don't know what has come over you you talk as if you had no heart no pity in you it is all Harry's influence I see there the lad flashed up and going to the window looked out for a few moments on the green flickering Sun lashed Garden I owe a great deal to Harry basil he said more than I owe to you you only taught me to be vain well I am punished for that Dorian or I shall be someday I don't know what you mean basil I don't know what you want what do you want I want the Dorian Gray that I used to paint said the artist sadly basil said the lad going over to him and putting his hand on his shoulder you have come too late yesterday when I heard that Sybil Vane had killed herself killed herself good Heavens is there no doubt about that cried hallwood looking up at him with an expression of Horror my dear basil surely think it was a vulgar accident the elder man buried his face in his hands how fearful he muttered Shadowrun through him no said Dorian Gray there is nothing fearful about it it is one of the great romantic tragedies of the age as a rule people who act lead the most commonplace lives they are good husbands faithful wives or something tedious you know what I mean middle class virtue and all that kind of thing how different Sybil was she lived her finest tragedy she was always a heroine the last night she played the night that you saw her she acted badly because she had known the reality of love when she knew its unreality she died as Juliet might have died she passed again into the sphere of Art there is something of the Martyr about her death has all the pathetic uselessness of martyrdom all its wasted Beauty but as I was saying you must not think that I have not suffered if you would come in yesterday at a particular moment about half past five perhaps or a quarter to six he would have found me in tears even Harry who is here who brought me the news in fact had no idea what I was going through suffered immensely then it passed away I cannot repeat an emotion no one can except sentimentalists and you are awfully unjust basil you come down here to console me that is charming of you you find me consoled and you are Furious how like a sympathetic person you remind me of a story that Harry told me about a certain philanthropist he spent 20 years of his life trying to get some grievance redressed some unjust law altered I figured exactly what it was but finally he succeeded and nothing could exceed his disappointment had absolutely nothing to do almost died upon me and became a confirmed misanthrope it's my dear old basil if you really want to console me teach me rather to forget see it from a proper artistic point of view was it not the Gautier who used to write about let consolation de art I remember picking up a little Vellum covered book in your studio one day and chancing on that delightful phrase well I'm not like that young man that you told me of when we were down at Marlow together the young man who used to say that yellow satin could console one for all the miseries of life I love beautiful things one can touch and handle green bronzes lack of work carved ivories Exquisite surroundings luxury pomp there is much to be got from all of these but the artistic temperament that they create or at any rate reveal is still more to me to become The Spectator of one's own life as Harry says is to escape the suffering of life I know you were surprised of my talking to you like this who have not realized how I have developed I was a Schoolboy I'm a man now I have new Passions maybe still wants new ideas I am different you must not like me less I am changed but you must always be my friend of course I'm very fond of Harry but I know that you are better than he is you are not stronger you are too much afraid of life of course you are better and how happy we used to be together don't leave me basil and don't quarrel with me I am what I am and there's nothing more to be said the painter felt strangely moved the lad was infinitely dear to him his personality had been the great turning point in his art he could not bear the idea of approaching him anymore after all his indifference was probably merely a mood that would pass away there was so much in him that was good so much in him that was Noble well Dorian he sat at length with a sad smile I won't speak to you again about this horrible thing after today I only trust your name won't be mentioned in connection with it the inquest is to take place this afternoon have they summoned you Dorian shook his head and a look of annoyance passed over his face At The Mention of the word inquest there was something so crude and vulgar about everything of the kind they don't know my name he answered but surely she did only my Christian name and that I'm quite sure she never mentioned to anyone she told me once that they were all rather curious to learn who I was and that she invariably told them my name was Prince Charming it was pretty of her you must do a drawing of civil battle I should like to have something more of her than the memory of a few kisses and some Baroque and pathetic words I'll try and do something Dorian if it would please you but you must come and sit to me yourself again I can't get on without you can never sit to you again basil it's impossible he exclaimed starting back the painter stared at him my dear boy what nonsense he cried do you mean to say you don't like what I did of you where is it why have you pulled the screen in front of it let me look at it it's the best thing I've ever done do take the screen away Dorian it's simply disgraceful of your servant hiding my work like that I felt the room looked different as I came in my servant has nothing to do with it basil you don't imagine I let him arrange my room for me he settles my flowers for me sometimes that is all no I did it myself light was too strong on the portrait too strong surely not my dear fellow it's an admirable place for it let me see it Paul would walk towards the corner of the room a cry of Terror broke from Dorian Gray's lips and he rushed between the painter and the screen basil he said looking very pale you must not look at it I don't wish you to oh look at my own work you're not serious why shouldn't I look at it exclaimed hallwood laughing trying to look at it puzzle on my word of Honor I will never speak to you again as long as I live I'm quite serious I don't know for any explanation and you were not to ask for any remember if you touch this screen everything is over between us hallwood was Thunderstruck he looked at Dorian Gray in absolute amazement he had never seen him like this before the lad was actually pallid with rage his hands were clenched and the pupils of his eyes were like discs of blue fire it's trembling thorian don't speak what is the matter of course I won't look at it if you don't want me to turned on his heel and going over towards the window really it seems rather absurd that I shouldn't see my own work especially as I'm going to exhibit it in Paris in the Autumn I'll probably have to give it another coat of varnish before that so I must see it someday and why not today to exhibit it you want to exhibit it exclaim Dorian strange sense of Terror creeped over him was the world going to be shown his secret for people to Gabe at the mystery of his life that was impossible something he did not know what but something had to be done at once yes I don't suppose you'll object to that George Petit is going to collect all of my best pictures for a special exhibition in the room which will open the first week in October the portrait will only be away for a month and I should think you could easily spare it for that time in fact you're sure to be out of town and if you keep it always behind a screen you can't care much about it Dorian Gray passed his hand over his forehead it would be sort of perspiration there he felt that he was on the brink of a horrible Danger you told me a month ago you would never exhibited he cried why have you changed your mind you people who go in for being consistent have just as many moods as others have the only difference is your moods are meaningless you can't have forgotten that you've assured me most solemnly that nothing in the world would induce you to send it to any exhibition you told Harry exactly the same thing he stopped stops a gleam of light came into his eyes and he remembered Lord Henry had said to him once half seriously half ingest if you want to have a strange quarter of an hour get basil to tell you why he won't exhibit your picture he told me why he wouldn't and it was a revelation yes perhaps basil II had a secret he would ask him and try basil he said he said coming over quite close and looking him straight in the face we have each of us a secret let me know yours and I shall tell you mine what was your reason for refusing to exhibit my picture the painter shuddered in spite of himself Dorian if I told you you might like me less than you do and you would certainly laugh at me I could not bear you doing either of those things if you wish me to never look at your picture again I'm content I have always you to look at if you wish the best work that I have ever done to be hidden from the world I am satisfied your friendship is dearer to me than any fame or reputation no basil you must tell me insist in Dorian I think I have a right to know his feeling of Terror had passed away and curiosity had taken its place he was determined to find out basil hallwood's mystery let us sit down Dorian said the painter looking trouble let us sit down and just answer me one question have you have you noticed in the picture something curious something that probably at first did not strike you but revealed itself to you suddenly cracked the lead clutching the arms of his chair with trembling hands and gazing at him with wild startled eyes I see you did don't speak wait till you hear what I have to say Dorian from the moment I met you you're your personality had the most extraordinary influence over me I was dominated Soul rain and Power by you you became to me the visible incarnation of that unseen ideal whose memory haunts us artists like an Exquisite dream I worshiped here I grew jealous of everyone to whom you spoke I wanted to have you all to myself I was only happy when I was with you when you were away from me you were present in my art of course I never let you know anything about this it would have been impossible you would not have understood hardly understood it myself I only knew that uh I had seen perfection face to face and that the world had become wonderful to my eyes two wonderful perhaps for in such mad worships there is peril the Peril of losing them no less than the Peril of keeping them weeks and weeks went on and I grew more and more absorbed in you then came a new development I had drawn you as Paris and dainty armor and as Adonis with the huntsman's cloak and a polished bore spear sat on the prowl of Adrian's barge gazing against the Green turbot Mile you had leaned over the still pool of some Greek Woodland and seen in the waters silent silver the Marvel of your own face and it had all been what art should be unconscious ideal and remote one day a fatal day I sometimes think I determined to paint a wonderful portrait of you as you actually are and not in costume of dead ages but in your own dress in your own time whether it was the realism of the method or the mere Wonder of your own personality thus directly presented to me without mist or Veil I cannot tell but I know that as I worked at his every flake and film of color seemed to me to reveal my secret that doesn't know of my idolatry I felt Dorian that I had told too much I had put too much of myself into it than it was that I resolved never to allow the picture to be exhibited where a little annoyed but then you did not realize all that it meant to me Harry to whom I talked about it laughed at me but I do not mind that when the picture was finished and I sat alone with it I felt that I was right well after a few days the thing left my studio and as soon as I had got rid of the Intolerable fascination of its presence it seemed to me I had been foolish been imagining that I had seen anything in it more than you were extremely good looking I could paint even now I cannot help feeling it's a mistake to think that the passion one feels in creation is ever really shown in the work one creates art is always more abstract than we fancy form and color tell us of form and color that is all it often seems to me that art conceals the artist far more completely than never reveals him and so when I got this offer from Paris I determined to make your portrait the principal thing in my exhibition it never occurred to me that you would refuse I see now you were right the picture cannot be shown you must not be angry with me Dorian for what I have told you as I said to Harry you are made to be worshiped Dorian Gray drew a long breath color came back to his cheeks and a smile played about his lips the Peril was over safe for the time yeah he could not help feeling infinite pity for the painter who would strange confession to him and wondered if he himself would ever be so dominated by the personality of a friend Lord Henry had the charm of being very dangerous but that was all he was too clever and too cynical to be really fond of would there ever be someone who would fill him with a strange idolatry was that one of the things that life had in store it is extraordinary to me dorians at hallwood that you should have seen this in the portrait did you really see it I saw something in it he answered something that seemed to me very curious well you don't mind my looking at the thing now Dorian shook his head you must not ask me of that battle I could not possibly let you stand in front of that picture you will someday surely well perhaps you were right and now goodbye Dorian you've been the one person in my life who has really influenced my art whatever I have done that is good I owe to you you don't know what it cost me to tell you all that I have told you my dear basil what if you told me simply that you felt that you admired me too much that's not even a compliment was not intended as a compliment it was a confession now that I have made it something seems to have gone out of me perhaps one should never put one's worship into words well it was a very disappointing confession why what did you expect Dorian you didn't see anything else in the picture did you nothing else to see no there was nothing else to see why do you ask you mustn't talk about worship it's foolish you and I are friends basil we must always remain so you've got Harry said the painter sadly oh Harry cried the lad with a ripple of laughter Harry spends his days in saying what is incredible in the evenings in doing what is improbable but just the sort of life I would like to lead but I still don't think I would go to Harry if I were in trouble I would soon ago to you basil you will sit to me again impossible you spoil my life as an artist by refusing Dory and no man comes across two ideal things few come across one I can't explain it to you basil but I must never sit for you again there is something fatal about a portrait it has a life of its own I'll come and have tea with you and that will be just as pleasant Pleasant for you I'm afraid mermaid Hall would regretfully and now goodbye I'm sorry you won't let me look at the picture once again but that can't be helped I quite understand what you feel about it as he left the room Dorian Gray smiled to himself poor basil how little he knew of the true reason how how strange it was that instead of having been forced to reveal his own secret he had succeeded almost by chance in wrestling a secret from his friend how much that strange confession explained to him the painter's absurd fits of jealousy his wild devotion his extravagant and trirects curious reticence he understood them all now and he felt sorry that seemed to him to be something tragic in a friendship so colored by Romance he sighed and touched the Bell portrait must be hidden away at all costs he could not run such a risk of Discovery again it had been mad of him to have allowed the thing to remain even for an hour in the room to which any of his friends had access chapter 10. when his servant entered he looked at him steadfastly and wondered if he had thought of peering behind the screen the man was quite impassive and waited for his orders the cigarette and walked over to the glass and glanced into it he could see the reflection of Victor's face perfectly it was like a Placid mask of Civility there was nothing to be afraid of yet he thought it best to be honest God speaking very slowly he told him to tell the housekeeper that he wanted to see her and then go to the frame maker and ask him to send two of his men round at once it seemed to him that as the man left the room his eyes wandered in the direction of the screen was that merely his own fancy after a few moments in her black silk dress with old-fashioned thread mittens on her wrinkled hands Mrs Leaf bustled into the library he asked her for the key of the school room the old school room Mr Dorian my hands full of dust I must get it arranged and put straight before you go into it it does not fit for you to see Sarah it is not indeed I don't want to put it straight Leaf I only want the key well said you'll be covered with cobwebs if you go into it why it hasn't been opened for nearly five years not since his lordship died he Winsted the mention of his grandfather he had hateful memories of him that does not matter he answered I simply want to see the place that is all give me the key and here is the key sir said the old lady coming over the contents of her Bunch with tremulously uncertain hands here is the key I'll have it off the bunch in a moment but you don't think of living up there sir you are so comfortable here I don't know he cried petulantly thank you leaf that will do chilling good for a few moments it was garreless over some detail at the household he sighed and told her to manage things as she thought best she left the room wreathed in smiles as the door closed Dorian with the key in his pocket and looked around the room is I fell on a large purple satin couple that heavily embroidered with gold a splendid piece of late 17th century Venetian work that his grandfather had found in a Convent near bologna yes that would serve to wrap this Dreadful thing in that it perhaps served often as a Paul for the Dead and now it was to hide something that had a Corruption of its own worse than the corruption of death itself something that would breed Horrors yeah it would never die what the worm was to the corpse his sins would be to the painted image on the canvas they would admire its beauty eat away its Grace they would defile it and make it shame and yet the thing with it would be always alive he shuddered and for a moment he regretted that he had not told basil the true reason why he had wished to hide the picture away basil would have helped him to resist Lord Henry's influence still more poisonous influences that came from his own temperament the love that he bore him for it really was love had nothing in it was not Noble an intellect it was not that mere physical admiration of beauty that is born of the senses and dies when the senses Tire it was such a lot of as Michelangelo had known Fontaine Winkleman Shakespeare himself yes basil could have saved him but it was too late now the past could always be annihilated regret denial forgetfulness could do that but the future there were passions in him that would find their terrible Outlet dreams that would make the shadow of their evil real he took up from the couch the great purple and gold texture that covered it and holding it in his hands past behind the screen was the face on the canvas by other than before it seemed to him that it was unchanged and yet his loathing of it was intensified gold hair blue eyes rose red lips they were all there it was simply the expression that had altered was horrible and it's cruelty compared to what he saw in it of sincere or rebuke how shallow Basil's approaches about civil vain had been shallow and of what little account his own soul was looking out at him from the canvas and calling him to judgment of pain he flung The Rich Paul as he did so a knock came at the door he passed out as his servant entered the person to him is here he felt that the man must be got rid of at once you must not be allowed to know where the picture has been taken to there was something Sly about him and he had thoughtful treacherous eyes sitting down at the writing table he scribbled a note to Lord Henry asking him to send him around something to read reminding him that they were to meet at 8 15 that evening wait for an answer he said handing it to him show the men in here in two or three minutes there was another knock and Mr Hubbard himself the celebrated frame maker of South Albany Street came in with a somewhat rough looking young assistant Mr Hubbard was a Florida red wizard little man as a rule he never left his shop he waited for people to come to him but he always made an exception in favor of Dorian Gray there was something about Dorian that Charmed everybody it was a pleasure even to see him what can I do for you Mr Gray he said rubbing his fat freckled hands I thought I would do myself the honor of coming round in person I've just got a beauty of a frame picked it up with a sale Old Florentine came from font Hill I believe admirably suited for a religious subject Mr Gray I'm so sorry you've given yourself the trouble of coming round Mr Hubbard I shall certainly drop in and look at the frame though I don't go in much a present for religious art but today I only want to picture carried to the top of the house for me it was rather heavy so I thought I would ask you to lend me a couple of your men no trouble at all Mr Graham delighted to be of any service to you which is the work of art sir this from my Dorian moving the screen back can you move it covering it all just as it is I don't want it to get scratched going upstairs there'll be no difficulty sir said the genial frame maker beginning with the aid of his assistant to unhook the picture from the long brass chains by which it was suspended and now where shall we carry it to Mr Gray I will show you the way Mr Hubbard if you will kindly follow me or perhaps you would better go in front I'm afraid it is right at the top of the house we will go up the front staircase as it is wider he held the door open for them and they passed out into the hall and began the the elaborate character of the frame had made the picture extremely bulky now and then in spite of the obsequious protest of Mr Hubbard who are the true Tradesmen spirited dislike of seeing a gentleman doing anything useful Dorian put his hand in as to help them something of a load to carry sir gasped the little man when they reached the top landing and he wiped his shiny forehead I'm afraid it is rather heavy my medorian he unlocked the door that opened into the room that was to keep for him the Curious secret of his life and hide his soul from the eyes of men he had not entered this place for more than four years not indeed since he had used it fast as a playroom when he was a child and as a study when he grew somewhat older was a large well-proportioned room which had been specially built by the last Lord Kelso for the use of the little grandson whom for his strange likeness to his mother and for other reasons he'd always hated and desired to keep it a distance it appeared to Dorian to have but little changed that was a huge Italian casoni with its fantastically painted panels its tarnished guilt moldings in which he had so often hidden himself as a boy bookcase filled with dog-eared school books on the wall behind it was hanging the same ragged Flemish tapestry where I faded king and queen were playing chess in a garden while the company of Hawk was rode by and carrying hooded Birds on gauntleted wrists how well he remembered it all every moment of his lonely childhood came back to him as he looked around he recalled the stainless purity of his boyish life and it seemed horrible to him it was here the Fatal portrait was to be hidden away a little he had thought in those dead days there was no other place in the house so secure from prying eyes as this he had the key and no one else could enter it beneath its purple pole the face painted on the canvas could grow a beastial sodden and unclean what did it matter no one could see it he himself would not see it why should he watch the Hideous Corruption of his soul he kept his Youth and that was enough and besides might not his nature grow finer after all there was no reason that the future should be so full of Shame some love might come across his life and purify him Shield him from those sins that seemed to already be stirring and in spirit and in flesh those curious unpictured sins his very mystery lent them their subtlety in their charm perhaps someday the cruel look would have passed away Scarlet s and he might show to the world basil hold its masterpiece hour by hour and weak by the thing upon the canvas was growing old it might escape the hideousness of sin but the hideousness of age was in store for it the cheeks would become Hollow or flaccid yellow crow's feet would creep around the fading eyes and make them horrible the hair would lose its brightness the mouth would gain or droop would be foolish or gross as the mouths of old men are there would be the wrinkled throat the cold blue veined hands the Twisted body that he remembered in the grandfather who had been so Stern to him in his Boyhood the picture had to be concealed there was no help for it bring it in Mr Hubbard please he said wearily turning around I'm sorry I kept you so long but I was thinking of something else always glad to have a rest Mr Gray answered the frame maker who was still gasping for breath where should we put it sir oh anywhere here this will do I don't want to have it hung up just lean it against the wall thanks might one look at the work of art sir Dorian started it would not interest you Mr Hubbard said keeping his eye on the man he felt ready to LEAP upon Him fling him to the ground if he dared lift the gorgeous hanging that concealed The Secret of his life but I shant trouble you anymore now I'm much obliged for your kindness in coming round not at all not at all Mr Gray ever ready to do anything for you sir Mr Hubbard tramped downstairs followed by the assistant who glanced back at Dorian with a look of shy Wonder in his rough uncomely face he had never seen anyone so marvelous when the sound of their footsteps had died away Dorian locked the door and put the key in his pocket he felt safe now no one would ever look upon the horrible thing no I but his would ever see his shame on reaching the library he found that it was just after five o'clock and the tea had already been brought up on a little table of dark perfumed wood thickly encrusted with maker a present from Lady ratley his guardian's wife a pretty professional invalid who had spent the preceding winter in Cairo there was lying a note from Lord Henry and beside it was a book bound in yellow paper the cover slightly torn and the edges soil a copy of the Third Edition of the saint James's Gazette had been placed on the tea tray it was evident that Victor had returned he wondered if he had met the men in the hall as they were leaving the house and wormed out of them what they had been doing he would be sure to miss the picture had no doubt missed it already while he had been laying tea things the screen had not been set back and a blank space was visible on the wall perhaps some night he might find him creeping upstairs trying to force the door of the room it was a horrible thing to have a spy in one's house he had heard of Richmond who had been blackmailed all their lives by some servant who had read a letter or overheard a conversation picked up a card with an address or found beneath a pillowy withered flower a shred of crumpled lace he sighed and having poured himself out some tea opened Lord Henry's note it was simply to say that he sent him round to the evening paper and a book that might interest him that he would be at the club at 8 15. he opened the saint James's languidly and looked through it a red pencil mark on the fifth page called his eye it drew attention to the following paragraph inquest on an actress an inquest was held this morning at the Bell Tavern hoxton Road by Mr Danby the district coroner on the body of civil Fane a young actress recently engaged at the Royal Theater Holborn a verdict of death by misadventure was returned considerable sympathy was expressed for the mother of the deceased who was greatly affected during the giving of her own evidence and that of Dr Beryl who made the post-mortem examination of the deceased he frowned and tearing the paper in two went across the room and flung The Pieces away how ugly it all was and how horribly real ugliness made things he felt a little annoyed with Lord Henry for having sent him the report and it was certainly stupid of him to have marked it with red pencil Victor might have read it the man knew more than enough English for that perhaps he had read it and had begun to suspect something and yet what did it matter what had Dorian Gray to do with Sybil vane's death there was nothing to fear Dorian Gray had not killed her his eye fell on the yellow book that Lord Henry had sent him what was it he wondered he went towards the little pearl colored octagonal stand that had always looked to him like the work of some strange Egyptian bees that brought silver taking up the volume he flung himself into an armchair and began to turn over the leaves after a few minutes he became absorbed it was The Strangest Book that he had ever read it seemed to him that in Exquisite raiment and the Delicate Sound of flutes the sins of the world were passing in Dong's show before him he had dimly dreamed of was suddenly made real to him things of which he had never dreamed were gradually revealed it was a novel without a plot and with only one character simply a psychological study of a certain young Parisian spent his life trying to realize in the 19th century all the passions and modes of thought that belonged to every Century except his own sum up as it were in himself the various moods through which the world Spirit had ever passed loving for their mere artificiality those renunciations that men have unwisely called virtue as much as those natural rebellions that wise men still call sin the style in which it was written was a curious jeweled Style Vivid and obscure at once there were in it metaphors as monstrous as orchids in a subtle in color the life of the senses was described in the terms of mystical philosophy one hard that you know at times where the one was reading the spiritual ecstasies of some medieval saint or The Morbid Confessions of a modern sinner it was a poisonous book the heavy odor of incense seemed to cling about its pages and to trouble the brain the mere Cadence of the sentences the subtle monotony of their music so full as it was of complex refrains and movements that really repeated produced in the mind of the lad as he passed from chapter to chapter a form of reverie a malady of dreaming that made him unconscious of the falling day and creeping Shadows cloudless and pierced by one solitary star a copper green Sky gleamed Through the Windows he read on by its one light till he could read no more then after his Valley had reminded him several times of the lightness of the hour he got up and going into the Next Room placed the book on the little Florentine table that always stood at his bedside and began to dress for dinner it was almost nine o'clock before he reached the club where he found Lord Henry sitting alone in the morning room looking very much bored I'm so sorry Harry he cried but really it is entirely your fault that book you sent me so fascinated me that I forgot how the time was going yes I thought you might like it replied his host rising from his chair I didn't say I liked it Harry I said it fascinated me it's a great difference uh you have discovered that murmured Lord Henry and they passed into the dining room chapter 11. for years Dorian Gray could not free himself from the influence of this book perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he never sought to free himself from it he procured from Paris no less than nine large paper copies of the first edition and had them Bound in different colors so that they might suit his various moods and the changing fancies of a nature over which he seemed at times to have almost entirely the hero the wonderful young Parisian in whom the romantic and the scientific temperaments were so strangely Blended but came to him a kind of pre-figuring type of himself indeed the whole book seemed to him to contain the story of his own life written before he had lived it in one point he was more fortunate than the novel's Fantastic hero he never knew never indeed had any cause to know that somewhat grotesque dread of mirrors and Polished metal surfaces and still water which came upon the young Parisian so early in his life occasioned by the sudden decay of a bow that had once apparently been so remarkable it was with an almost cruel joy and perhaps in nearly every joy as certainly in every pleasure cruelty has its place that he used to read the latter part of the book but it's really tragic if someone overemphasized account over the sorrow and despair of one who had himself lost what in others in the world he had most dearly valued for the wonderful beauty that had so fascinated basil hallwood and many others besides him seemed never to leave him even those who had heard the most evil things about him from time to time strange rumors about his mode of Life crept through London and became the chatter of the clubs they could not believe anything to his dishonor when they saw him he had always the look of one who had kept himself unspotted from the world men who talked grossly became silent when Dorian Gray entered the room there was something in the purity of his face that rebuked them his mere presence seemed to recall to them the memory of Innocence that they had tarnished they wondered how one so charming and graceful as he could have escaped the stain of an age that was at once sordid and sensual often on returning home from one of those mysterious and prolonged absences that gave rise to such strange conjecture among those who were his friends or thought they were so self would creep upstairs to the locked room opened the door with the key that never left him now and stand for the mirror in front of the portrait that basil hallwood had painted of him looking now at the evil and aging face on the canvas and now at the Young Fair face that laughed back at him from polished glass the very sharpness of the contrast used to Quicken his sense of pleasure he grew more and more enamored of his own Beauty more interested in the corruption of his own soul he would examine with minute care and sometimes with monstrous and terrible Delight the Hideous lines that seared the wrinkling forehead or walked around the heavy sensual mouth wondering sometimes which were the more horrible the signs of sin or the science of age he would place his white hands besides coarse bloated hands of the picture and smile smile he mocked the misshapen body and the failing limbs there were moments indeed at night when lying Sleepless in his own delicately scented chamber or in the sordid room of the Little ill-famed Tavern near the docks under an assumed name and in Disguise it was his Habit to frequent he would think of the ruin that he had brought upon his soul with a Pity that was all the more poignant because it was purely selfish but moments such as these were rare that Curiosity about life which Lord Henry had first stirred in him as they sat together in the garden of their friend seemed to increase with gratification the more he knew the more he desired to know he had mad hungers that grew more ravenous as he fed them yet he was not really Reckless at any rate in his relations to society once or twice every month during the winter and on each Wednesday evening while the season lasted he would throw open to the world his beautiful house having the most celebrated musicians of the day to charm his guests with the wonders of their art his little dinners in the settling of which Lord Henry always assisted him but noted as much for the careful selection and placing of those invited as for the Exquisite taste shown in the decoration of the table with its subtle symphonic Arrangements of exotic flowers and embroidered cloths and antique plate of gold and silver indeed there were many but especially among the very young men who saw or fancied that they saw in Dorian Gray true realization of a type of which that they had often dreamed and eaten or Oxford days a type that was to combine something of the real culture of The Scholar the grace and distinction and perfect manner of a citizen of the world to them he seemed to be of the company of those who Dante describes as having sought to make themselves Perfect by the worship of beauty like Gautier he was one for whom the visible world existed and certainly to him life itself was the first the greatest of the Arts and for it all the other Arts seemed to be about preparation fashion by which what is really fantastic becomes for a moment Universal dandyism which in its own way is an attempt to assert the absolute modernity of beauty and of course their Fascination for him his mode of dressing and the particular styles that from time to time he affected had their marks influence on the young exquisites of the Mayfair Bulls and the Palma Club who copied him in everything that he did and tried to reproduce The Accidental charm of his graceful though to him only half serious foperies for a while he was but too ready to accept the position that was almost immediately offered to him on his coming of age and found indeed a subtle pleasure in the thought that he might really become to the London of his own day what to Imperial neronian Rome the author of the satiricon once had been yet in his inmost heart he desired to be something more than a mere Arbiter of elegantarium to be consulted on the wearing of a jewel or the knotting of a necktie or the conduct of a cane he sought to elaborate some new scheme of life that would have its reasoned philosophy and its ordered principles and find in the spiritualizing of the senses its highest realization the worship of the senses has often and with much Justice been decried men feeling a natural instinct of Terror about passions and Sensations that seem stronger than themselves and that they are conscious of sharing with the less highly organized forms of existence but it appeared to Dorian Gray that the true nature of the senses had never been understood and that they had remained Savage and animal merely because the world had sought to starve them into submission or kill them by pain instead of aiming at making them elements of a new spirituality of which a fine Instinct for beauty wants to be the dominant characteristic as he looked back upon man moving through history he was haunted by a feeling of loss so much had been surrendered and to such little purpose there had been mad willful rejections monstrous forms of self-torture and self-denial whose origin was fear and whose result was a degradation infinitely more terrible than that fancy degradation from which in their ignorance they had sought to escape nature in her wonderful irony driving out the Anchorage to feed with the wild animals of the desert and giving to the hermit the beasts of the field as his companions yes there was to be as Lord Henry had prophesized a new Hedonism that was to recreate life to save it from that harsh uncomely puritanism that is having in our own day it's curious Revival it was to have its service of the intellect certainly that it was never to accept any Theory or system that would involve the sacrifice of any mode of passionate experience its aim indeed was to be the experience itself not the fruits of experience sweet or bitter as they might be of the asceticism that deadens the senses as of the vulgar profligacy that dulls them it was to know nothing but it was to teach man to concentrate himself upon moments of a life that is itself but a moment there are a few of us who have not sometimes awakened Before Dawn either after one of those dreamless nights that make us almost inhammed of death or one of those nights of horror and misshapen Joy when through the chambers of the brain sweep Phantoms more terrible than reality itself an instinct with that Vivid life that lurks in all grotesques and that lends to gothic art its endearing vitality this art being one might fancy especially the art of those whose Minds have been troubled with the malady of reverie gradually white fingers creep through the curtains they appear to tremble in Black fantastic shapes dumb Shadows crawl into the corners of the Roman Crouch there outside there is the stirring of birds among the leaves or the sound of men going forth to their work the Sigh and salt of the wind coming down the hills wandering around the Silent House as though it feared to wake the sleepers and yet must needs call forth sleep from her purple cave fail after veil of thin Dusky gauze is lifted and by degrees the forms and colors of things are restored to them we watch the dawn remaking the world in its antique pattern the one mirrors get back their mimic life the flameless tapers stand where we had left them beside them lies the half-cut book that we had been studying or the wired flower that we had worn at the ball the latter that we had been afraid to read all that we read too often nothing seems to us changed out of the unreal Shadows of the Night comes back the real life that we had known we have to resume it where we had left off there Stills over I say terrible sense of the necessity for the continuance of energy in the same we're a surround of stereotyped habits a wild longing it may be that our eyelids might open some morning upon a world that had been refashioned and new in the darkness for our pleasure a world in which things would have fresh shapes and colors and be changed or have other Secrets a world in which the past would have little or no place will survive at any rate in no conscious form of obligation or regret the remembrance even of Joy having its bitterness and the memories of pleasure their pain it was the creation of such worlds as these seemed to Dorian Gray to be the true object or amongst the true objects a life and in his search for Sensations that would be at once new and delightful and possess that element of strangeness that is so essential to romance he would often adopt certain modes of thought that he knew to be really alien to his nature abandon himself to their subtle influences and then having as it were caught their color satisfied his intellectual curiosity but leave them with that curious indifference that is not incompatible with the real order of temperament and that's indeed according to certain modern psychologists is often a condition of it it was rumored of him once that he was about to join the Roman Catholic communion and certainly the Roman ritual had always a great attraction for him the daily sacrifice more awful really than all the sacrifices of the Antique World stirred him as much by its superb rejection of the evidence of the senses as by the Primitive Simplicity of its elements and the Eternal pathos of the human tragedy that it sought to symbolize he loved to kneel down on the cold marble pavement and watched the priest in his stiff flowered delmatic slowly and with white hands moving aside the veil of Tabernacle raising Aloft the jeweled Lantern shaped monstrance with that pallid wafer that at times one would feign think is indeed the panace celestis bread of angels robed in the garments of The Passion of Christ breaking the host into the chalice and smiting his breast for his sins the fuming senses that the grave Boys in their lace and Scarlet tossed into the air like great guilt flowers had their subtle Fascination for him as he passed out he used to look with Wonder at the black confessionals and long to sit in the dim shadow of one of them men and women Whispering through the worn grating the true story of their lives but he never fell into the era of arresting his intellectual development by any formal acceptance of creed or system mistaking for a house in which to live an inn that is but suitable for the sunshine of a night or for a few hours of a night in which there are no stars and the Moon is in travail mysticism with its marvelous power of making common things strange to us and the subtle antinomianism that always seems to accompany it moved him for a season and for a season he inclined to the materialistic doctrines of the darwinismus movement in Germany he found a curious pleasure in tracing the thoughts and passions of men to some pearly cell in the brain or some white nerve in the body delighting and the conception of the absolute dependence of the spirit on certain physical conditions more more healthy normal more diseased yet as has been said of him before no theory of Life seemed to him to be of any importance compared with life itself he felt keenly conscious of how Barren all intellectual speculation is when separated from action and experiment he knew that the senses no less than the soul have their spiritual Mysteries to reveal and so he would now study perfumes the secrets of their manufacture distilling heavily scented oils and burning odorous gums from the East he saw that there was no mood of the mind that had not its counterpart in sensuous life he set himself to discover their true relations wondering what there was in frankincense that made one mystical and in violence that woke the memory of dead romances and in musk that troubled the brain in champak that stained the imagination and seeking often to elaborate a real psychology of perfumes to estimate the several influences of sweet-smelling roots scented pollen Laden flowers of aromatic bombs and of dark and fragrant Woods of spikenard that sickens of havania that makes men mad and the values that are said to be able to expel Melancholy from the soul at another time he devoted himself entirely to music with a Vermilion and gold ceiling and walls of olive green lacquer he used to give curious concerts the harsh intervals and shrill discords of barbaric music stirred him at times when Schubert's Grace and Chopin's beautiful sorrows and the mighty harmonies of Beethoven himself fell and heeded on his ear he collected together from all parts of the world the strangest instruments that could be found either in the tombs of dead Nations or among a few tribes that survived contact with Western civilizations and loved to touch and try them he had the mysterious Paris of the Rio Indians that women are not allowed to look at and even youths may not see till they've been subjected to fasting and scourging and the Earthen jars of the peruvians that have the shrill cries of birds flutes of human bones the sonorous green Jaspers that are found near Cusco and give forth a note of singular sweetness he had painted gourds filled with pebbles that rattled when they were shaken the long Clarin of the Mexicans into which the performer does not blow but through which he inhales the air the harsh tier of the Amazon tribes that is sounded by the Sentinels they will sit all day long in high trees and can be heard at his head at a distance of three leagues the tapenastly has two vibrating tongues of wood and is beaten with sticks that are smeared with an elastic gum obtained from the Milky juice of plants the Otto bells of the Aztecs that are hung in clusters like grapes and a huge cylindrical drum covered with the skins of great serpents like the one that Bernal Diaz saw when he went with Cortez into the Mexican temple and of whose Door full sound he has left us so vivid a description fantastic character of these instruments fascinated him he felt a curious Delight in the thought that art like as her monsters things of Bastille shape and with Hideous voices yet after some time he weary of them and would sit in his box at the Opera either alone or with Lord Henry listening in wrapped pleasure to tanhauser seeing in the Prelude to that great work of art presentation of the tragedy of his own soul on one occasion he took up the study of jewels and appeared at a costume ball as the Admiral of France in a dress covered with 560 pearls this taste enthralled him for years and indeed may be said never to have left him he would often spend a whole day settling and resettling in their cases the various stones that he had collected such as the olive green Chris several that turns red by Lamplight the simophane with its wildlike line of silver pistachio colored Peridot rose pink and white and yellow topaz's carbuncles of fiery Scarlet with tremulous foreign Stars flame red cinnamon Stones orange and violet spindles and amethysts with their alternate layers of Ruby and Sapphire he loved the Red Gold of the Sunstone and the Moon the moonstone's Pearly whiteness the broken rainbow of the Milky opal he procured from Amsterdam three emeralds of extraordinary size and richness of color had a turquoise De La viele Roche that was the Envy of all the connoisseurs he discovered wonderful stories about jewels in Alfonso's clericalis discipliner a serpent was mentioned with eyes of real Jason and in the Romantic history of Alexander the Conqueror of amatia was said to have found in the veil of Jordan snakes with collars of real emeralds growing on their backs there was a gem in the brain of the Dragon philistratus told us and by the exhibition of golden letters in a Scarlet robe the monster could be thrown into magical sleep and slain according to the great Alchemist Pierre de Boniface the diamond rendered a man invisible and the Agate of India made him eloquent the cornelian appeased anger in the Hyacinth that provoked sleep the amethyst drove away the fumes of wine the garnet cast out demons the hydropicus deprived the moon of her color the selenite waxed and Wane with the moon and the melicious that discovers thieves could be affected only by the blood of kids leonardas Camillus had seen a white stone taken from the brain of a newly killed toad that was a certain antidote against poison the bazaar that was found in the heart of the Arabian deer was a charm that could cure the plague in the nests of Arabian Birds was the aspirates that according to Democritus kept the wearer from any danger by fire the king of silan rode through his city with a large Ruby in his hand as the ceremony of his coronation the gates of the Palace of John the priests were made of sardius with the Horn of the horned snake ink wrought so that no man might bring poison Within over the Gable were two golden apples in which were two carbuncles so that the gold might Shine by day and the carbuncles by night in lodges strange romance Marguerite of America it was stated that in the chamber of the queen one could behold all the chaste ladies of the world cased out of silver looking through Fair mirrors of chrysalites carbuncles sapphires and green emeralds Marco Polo had seen the inhabitants of the pangu the place rose-colored pearls in the mouths of the Dead a sea monster had been enamored of the Pearl that the diver brought to King perrosis and had slain the thief and mourned the seven moons over its loss when the Huns lured the king into the great pit he flung it away nor was it ever found again though the emperor anastasius offered 500 weight of gold pieces for it the king of Malabar had shown to a certain Venetian a rosary of 304 pearls one for every God that he worshiped Exquisite life had once been how gorgeous in its pump and decoration even to read of the luxury of the Dead was wonderful then he turned his attention to embroideries in the tapestries that performed the office of frescoes in the chill rooms of the northern nations of Europe as he investigated the subject and he always had an extraordinary faculty of becoming absolutely absorbed for the moment in whatever he took up he was almost saddened by the reflection of the ruin that time brought on beautiful and wonderful things he at any rate had escaped that summer followed Summer and the yellow jungles bloomed and died many times Knights of horror repeated their story of their shame but he was unchanged no winter marred his face or stained his flower-like bloom how different it was with material things where they passed to where was The Great crocus-colored robe on which the gods fought against the Giants that had been worked by girls for the pleasure of Athena where the huge Valerian that Nero had stretched across the Coliseum at Rome that the Curious table napkins wrought for the priest of the sun on which were displayed all the dainties and vions that could be wanted for a feast the mortuary cloth of King shilparic with its 300 golden bees the Fantastic robes that excited the indignation of the bishop of pontus and were figured with lions Panthers Bears dogs forests rocks Hunters all in fact that a painter can copy from nature and the coat that Charles of all the ends once wore on the sleeves of which were embroidered the verses of a song beginning Madam Jesuit the musical accompaniment of the words being wrought in Gold thread and each note of square shape in those days formed with four Pals he read of the Brum that was prepared at the palace of rhymes for the use of Queen John of burgundy decorated with 1321 parrots made embroidery blazoned with the King's Arms 561 butterflies whose wings were similarly ornamented with the arms of the queen the whole worked in gold Catherine de Medici had a morning bed made for her of black velvet powdered with crescents and Suns its curtains were of damask the leafy wreaths and Gardens figured upon a gold and silver ground fringed along the edges with embroideries of pearls it stood in a room hung with rows of the Queen's devices in Cut Black Velvet upon cloth of silver and so for a whole year he sought to accumulate the most Exquisite specimens that he could find of textile and embroidered work he had a special passion also for ecclesiastical vestments as indeed he had for everything connected with the service of the church in the long Cedar chests that lined the West gallery of his house he had stored away many rare and beautiful specimens of what is really the raiment of the bride of Christ who must wear purple and jewels and fine linen that she may hide the pallid macerated body that is worn by the suffering she seeks for wounded by self-inflicted pain he possessed a gorgeous cope of crimson silk and gold threaded damask figured with a repeating pattern of golden pomegranates set in six petaled formal blossoms Beyond which on either side was a pineapple device wrought in seed pearls the all phrase were divided into panels representing scenes from the life of the Virgin and the coronation of the Virgin was figured in colored silks upon the hood this was Italian work of the 15th century another cope was of green velvet embroidered with heart-shaped groups of acanthus leaves from which spread long-stemmed white blossoms the details of which were picked out with Silver Thread and colored crystals head and gold thread Ray's work the all phrase woven in a diaper of red and gold silk starred with medallions of many among whom was Saint Sebastian he had chasseles also of amber colored silk and blue silk gold brocade and yellow silk damask cloth of gold figured with representations of the passion and crucifixion of Christ embroidered with lions and peacocks and other emblems dalmatics of White Satin and pink silk damask decorated with tulips and dolphins alter frontals of crimson velvet and blue linen many corporals chalice veils in cedaria in the Mystic offices to which such things were put there was something that I can for these treasures and everything that he collected in his lovely house were to be to him means of forgetfulness modes by which he could Escape for a season from the fear that seemed to him at times to be almost too great to be born upon the walls of the Lonely locked room where he had spent so much of his Boyhood he had hung with his own hands the terrible portrait whose changing features showed him the real degradation of his life in front of it had draped the purple and gold pool as a curtain for weeks he would not go there would forget the Hideous painted thing and get back to his light heart his wonderful joyousness his passionate absorption in mere existence then suddenly sunlight he would creep out of the house go down to Dreadful places near bluegate fields and stay there after day until he was driven away on his return he would sit in front of the picture sometimes loathing it at himself but filled other times with that pride of individualism half the fascination of sin smiling with secret pleasure at the misshapen shadow that had to Bear the burden that should have been his own after a few years he could not endure to be long out of England and gave up the Villa that he had shared a travil with Lord Henry as well as the little white walled in-house at Algiers where they had then once spent the winter he hated to be separated from the picture that was such a part of his life it was also afraid that during his absence somewhat might gain access to the room in spite of the elaborate bars he had caused to be placed upon the door he was quite conscious that this would tell them nothing it was true the portrait is still preserved under all the foulness and ugliness of the face a marked likeness to himself but what could they learn from that she would laugh at anyone who tried to taunt him he had not painted it what was it to him how vile and full of shame it looked even if he told them would they believe it he was afraid sometimes when he was down at his great house in Nottinghamshire entertaining fashionable young men of his own rank who were his chief companions astounding the county by the wanton luxury and gorgeous Splendor of his mode of life he would suddenly leave his guests and rush back to town see that the door had not been tampered with that the picture was still there what if it should be stolen the mere thought made him cold with horror surely the world would know his secret then perhaps the world already suspected it but while he fascinated many there were not a few who distrusted him he was very nearly blackballed at a West End Club of which his birth and social position fully entitled him to become a member and it was said that on one occasion when he was brought by a friend into the smoking room of the Churchill the Duke of Berwick and another gentleman got up in a marked Manner and went out curious stories became current about him after he had passed his 25th year it was rumors that he had been seen crawling with foreign Sailors in a low Den in distant parts of White Chapel that he consorted with thieves and coiners and knew the mysteries of their trade his extraordinary absences became notorious and when he used to reappear again in society men would whisper to each other in Corners pass him with a snare look at him with cold searching eyes as though they were determined to discuss of such influences and attempted slights he of course took no notice and in the opinion of most people his Frank Debonair Manor his Charming boy or smile the infinite grace of that wonderful youth that seemed never to leave him were in themselves a sufficient answer to the colonies for so they termed them that were circulated about him it was remarked however that some of those who had been most intimate with him appeared after a time to shun him women who wildly adored him and for his sake braved all social sincere and set convention at defiance was seen to grow pallid with shame or horror if Dorian Gray entered entered 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 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 the half called entrees 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 it should combine the insincere character of a romantic play with the wit and beauty that makes such plays delightful to us is insincerity such a terrible thing is merely a method by which we can multiply our personalities such but any rain was used to wonder that the shallow psychology of those who conceive the ego in a man as a thing simple permanent reliable and of one essence him man was a being with Myriad lives and Myriad Sensations a complex multi-formed creature that bore within itself strange legacies of thought and passion 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 looking at the various portraits of those whose blood flowed in his veins here was Philip Urban described by Francis Osborne in his Memoirs on the Reigns of Queen Elizabeth and King James as one who was caressed by the court for his handsome face which not long company was it young Herbert's life that he sometimes LED had some strange poisonous germ crept from body to body till it 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 Hall of Studio to the Mad prayer that had so changed his life here in Gold embroidered red Dueler jeweled sir coat and guilt-edged rough and wristband stood Sir Anthony Sherrard his silver and black armor piled at his feet what had this man's Legacy been had the lover of Giovanna of Maples bequeased him some inheritance of sin and shame for his own actions merely the dreams that the dead man had not dared to realize here from The Fading canvas smiled Lady Elizabeth in her Gore's Hood Pearl stomacher and pink slashed sleeves a flower was in her right hand and her left clasped an enameled collar of white and Dennis roses on a table by her side like a mandolin and an apple they have a large green rosettes on 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 seem to look curiously at him what of George Willoughby with his powdered hair and fantastic patches how evil he looked face was satinine and swarthy and the sensual lips seemed to be twisted with disdain delicate lace Ruffles fell over the lean yellow hands that were so overlaid and with rings had been a macaroni of the 18th century and the friend in his youth of Lord for ours what of the second Lord beckenham the companion of the prince Regent in his wildest days and one of the witnesses of the secret marriage with Mrs fitzherbert how proud and handsome he was with his Chestnut curls and Insulin pose what passions had he bequeathed the world looked upon him as Infamous he had led 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 our blood also stirred within him curious it all seemed and his mother with her Lady Hamilton face and her moist Wayne Dash lips he knew what he had got from her he had gone from her his Beauty his passion for the beauty of others she laughed at him in her loose pecan dress there were Vine leaves in her hair the purple spilled from the cup that she was holding the carnations of the painting had withered but the eyes were still wonderful and that depth and brilliancy of color they seemed to follow him wherever he went yet one had ancestors in literature as well as in one's 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 marvelous and evil so full of subtlety it seemed to him that in some mysterious way their lives have 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 sacked as Tiberius in a garden at Capri reading the shameful works of elephantis while dwarfs and peacocks stratted around him and the flute player mocked the swinger of the sensor as Caligula had caroused with the green shirted jockeys in their stables and sucked in an ivory manger with a dual front-lettered horse and as the mission had wandered through a corridor aligned with marble mirrors looking round with hagged eyes for the reflection of the dagger that was to end his days sick with that on WE that terrible tea or TV tie that comes on to Those whom life denies nothing over and over again Dorian used to read this fantastic chapter and the two chapters immediately following in which as in some Curious tapestry or cunningly wrought enamels were pictured the awful and beautiful forms of Those whom Vice and blood and weariness had made monstrous or mad Filippo Duke of Milan who slew his wife and painted her lips with a Scarlet poison that her lover might suck death from the dead thing that he fondled Pietro Barbie the Venetian known as Paul II who sought in his vanity to assume the title of Pharmacists whose Tiara valued at two hundred thousand foreigns was bought at the price of a terrible sin John Maria Visconti who used hounds to chase living men whose murdered body was covered with Roses by a harlot who had loved him the Borgia on his White Horse with fraticide riding beside him his mantle stained with the blood of parata Pietro riaria the young Cardinal Archbishop of Florence child and Minion of sixtus IV whose Beauty was equaled only by his debauchery who received Leonora of Aragon in the Pavilion of white and Crimson silk filled with nymphs and centaurs and gilded a boy that might serve at the Feast of cannamed Aslan whose Melancholy could be cured only by the spectacle of death who had a passion for red blood as other men have for red wine the son of the fiend as was reported one who had cheated his father at dice when gambling with him for his own soul there was a horrible Fascination in them all they troubled his imagination in the day the Renaissance knew of strange manners of poisoning poisoning by a helmet and a lighted torch by an embroidered glove and a jeweled fan Dorian Gray had been poisoned by a book there were moments when he looked on evil simply as a mode through which he could realize his conception of the beautiful it was on the 9th of November the eve of his own 38th birthday as he often remembered afterwards he was walking home about 11 o'clock from Lord Henry's where he had been dining and was wrapped in heavy fuzz the night was cold and foggy at the corner of Grosvenor square and South Audley Street a man passed him in the Mist walking very fast and with the collar of his gray Ulster turned up he had a bag in his hand Dorian recognized him it was Battle horde a strange sense of fear for which he could not account came over him he made no sign of recognition and went on quickly in the direction of his own house but all that had seen him Dorian heard him first stopping on the pavement and then hurrying after him in a few moments his hand was on his arm Dorian what an extraordinary piece of luck I've been waiting for you in your library ever since nine o'clock finally I took pity on your tired servant and told him to go to bed as he let me out I'm off to Paris by the midnight train and I particularly wanted to see you before I left I thought it was you or rather your fur coat as you passed me quite sure didn't you recognize me in this fog my dear basil why I can't even recognize Groves in a square I believe my house is somewhere about here but I don't feel at all certain about it I'm sorry you're going away because I have not seen you for ages but I suppose you will be back soon no I'm going to be out of England for six months I intend to take a studio in Paris and shut myself up till I finished a great picture I have in my head however it wasn't about myself that I wanted to talk here we are at your door let me come in for a moment I have something to say to you I shall be Charmed but won't you miss your train said Dorian Gray languidly as he passed up the steps and opened the door with his latchkey the Lamplight struggled out through the fog and hallwood looked at his watch I have heaps of time he answered the train doesn't go anywhere till 12 15 and it is only just 11. in fact I was on my way to the club to look for you when I met you you see I shan't have any delay about luggage as I've sent on my heavy things all I have with me is in this bag and I can easily get to Victoria in 20 minutes Dorian looked at him and smiled what a way for a fashionable painter to travel a Gladstone bag and an Ulster come in or the fog will get into the house mind you don't talk about anything serious nothing is serious nowadays at least nothing should be holworth shook his head as he entered and followed Dorian into the library there was a bright wood fire blazing in the large open Earth the lamps will it and an open Dutch Silver Spirit case stood with some siphons of soda water and large cut glass tumblers eye little table you see your servant made me quite at home Dorian he gave me everything I wanted including your best gold tipped cigarettes he's the most hospitable creature I like him much better than the Frenchman that you used to have what's become of the Frenchman by the way Dorian Shrugged his shoulders I believe he married lady Radley's Maiden has established her in Paris as an English dressmaker anglo-mania is very fashionable over there now I hear seems silly of the French doesn't it but do you know he was not at all a bad serpent I never liked him but I had nothing to complain about one often imagines things that are quite absurd he was really very devoted to me and seemed quite sorry when he went away have another brandian soda what would you like Hawk and seltzer I always take Hawk and salt to myself they're sure to be some in the Next Room thanks I won't have anything more said the painter taking his cap and coat off and throwing them on the bag he had placed in the corner and now my dear fellow I want to speak to you seriously don't frown like that you make it so much more difficult for me what's it all about cried Dorian in his petulant way of flinging himself down on the sofa I hope it is not about myself I am tired of myself tonight I should like to be somebody else it is about yourself answered hallwood in his grave deep voice and I must say it to you I shall only keep you half an hour story inside and lit a cigarette half an hour he murmured it is not much to ask of you Dorian and it is entirely for your own sake that I am speaking I think it is right that you should know that the most Dreadful things are being said against you in London I don't wish to know anything about them I love scandals about other people scandals about myself don't interest me they've not got the charm of novelty they must interest you Dorian every gentleman is interested in his good name you don't want people to talk of you of something vile and degraded of course you have your position and your wealth and all that kind of thing but position and wealth are not everything mind you I don't believe these rumors at all at least I can't believe them when I see you sin is a thing that writes itself across a man's face it cannot be concealed people talk sometimes of secret vices there are no such things if a Wretched Man has a vice shows itself in the lines of his mouth the droop of his eyelids the molding of his hands even somebody I won't mention his name but you know him came to me last year to have his portrait done I had never seen him before and had never heard anything about him at the time though I have heard a good deal since he offered an extravagant price I refused him there was something in the shape of his fingers that I hated I know now that I was quite right in what I fancied about him his life is Dreadful but you Dorian with your pure bright innocent face your marvelous untrolled youth I can't believe anything against you and yet I see you very seldom you never come down to the studio now and when I am away from you and I hear all these hideous things that people are Whispering about you I don't know what to say why is it Dorian that a man like the Duke of Berwick leaves the River Club when you enter it why is it that so many gentlemen in London will neither go to your house or invite you to theirs you used to be a good friend of old Savory I met him at dinner last week your name happened to come up in the conversation in connection with the Miniatures you lent to the exhibition at The Dudley stavely curled his lip and said that you might have the most artistic tastes but you're a man whom no pure minded girl should be allowed to know who no chaste woman should sit in the same room with I reminded him that I was a friend of yours and asked him what he meant he told me he told me write out before everybody it was horrible why is your friendship so fatal to young men there was that wretched boy in the guards who committed suicide you were his great friend there was Sir Henry Ashton who had to leave England with a tarnished name you and he were inseparable what about Adrian Singleton his Dreadful end what about Lord Kent's only son in his career I met his father yesterday in Saint James's Street he seemed broken with shame and sorrow what about the young Duke of Perth what sort of life has he got now what gentleman would associate with him John Basil you were talking about things of which you know nothing Dorian Gray bit his lip and with a note of infinite contempt in his voice you ask me why Berwick leaves a room when I enter it because I know everything about his life because he knows anything about mine with such blood as he has in his veins how could his record be clean you asked me about Henry Ashton and young Perth did I teach the one his vices and the other his debauchery if Kent's silly son takes his wife from the streets what is that to me if Adrian Singleton writes his friend's name across a bill am I his keeper I know how people chatter in England the middle classes air their moral prejudices over their gross dinner tables whisper about what they call the proflacies of their Bettors in order to try and pretend that they are in smart Society on intimate terms with the people they slander in this country it is enough for a man to have distinction and brains for every common tongue to wag against him and what sort of lives do these people who pose as being moral lead themselves my dear fellow you forget that we are in the native land of the hypocrite Dorian cried Harvard that is not the question England is bad enough I know an English society is all wrong that is the reason why I want you to be fine you have not been fine one has a right to judge of a man by the effect he has over his friends yours seem to lose all sense of honor of goodness of purity you have filled them with a Madness for pleasure they have gone down into the depths you led them there yes you led them there and yet you can smile as you are smiling now and there is worse behind I know you and Harry are inseparable surely for that reason if for none other you should not have made his sister's name a byword take care basil you go too far I must speak and you must listen you shall listen when you met lady Gwendolyn not a breath of Scandal had ever touched her is there a single decent woman in London now who would drive with her in the park why even her children are not allowed to live with her then there are other stories stories that you have been seen creeping at dawn out of dreadful houses and slinking in disguise into the foulest dens in London are they true can they be true when I first heard them I laughed I hear them now and they make me shudder what about your country house the life that is Led there Dorian you don't know what is said about you I won't tell you that I don't want to preach to you I remember Harry saying once that every man who turned himself into an amateur curate for the moment always began by saying that and then proceeded to break his word I do want to preach to you I want you to lead such a life as will make the world respect you I want you to have a clean name and a fair record I want you to get rid of the Dreadful people you associate with shrunk your shoulders like that don't be so indifferent you have a wonderful influence let it be for good not for evil they say that you corrupt everyone with whom you become intimate and that it is quite sufficient for you to enter a house for shame of some kind of for the laughter I don't know whether it is so or not how would I know but it is said of you I am told things that seem impossible to doubt Lord Gloucester was one of my greatest friends at Oxford he showed me a letter that his wife had written to him when she was dying alone in her Villa your name was implicated in the most terrible confession I have ever read I told him it was absurd that I knew you thoroughly that you were incapable of anything of the kind know you I wondered do I know you before I could answer that I should have to see your soul see my soul matadorian starting up from the sofa turning Almost White from Fear yes answered hallwood bravely with a deep toned sorrow in his voice see your soul but only God can do that bitter laugh of mockery broke from the lips of the younger man you shall see it yourself tonight he cried seizing a lamp from the table come it is your own handiwork why shouldn't you look at it you can tell the world all about it afterwards if you choose nobody would believe you if they did believe you they would like me all the better for it I know the age better than you do that you all prayed about it so tediously come I tell you you've chatted enough about corruption now you shall look on it face to face there was a Madness of pride in every word he uttered he stamped his foot upon the ground in his boyish insolent manner he felt a terrible Joy at the thought that someone else was to share his secret the man who had painted the portrait that was the origin of all his shame was to be burdened for the rest of his life with the Hideous memory what he had done yes he continued coming closer to him and looking steadfastly into his Stern eyes I shall show you my soul we shall see the thing that you fancy only God can see Holborn started back Mrs blasphemy Dorian you must not say things like that they are horrible and they don't mean anything you think so he laughed again I know so as for what I said to you tonight I said it for your good you know I've always been a staunch friend to you don't touch me finish what you have to say a twisted flash of pain shot across the painter's face paused for a moment in a wild feeling of pity came over him after all what right had he to pray into the life of Dorian Gray if he had done it tithe of what was rumored about him how much he must have suffered he straightened himself up and walked over to the fireplace and stood there looking at the burning Logs with their Frost like ashes and throbbing cause of flame I am waiting basil said the young man in a hard clear voice he turned round what I have to say is this he cried you must give some answer to these horrible charges that are made against you if you tell me they are absolutely untrue from beginning to end I Shall Believe you deny them Dorian deny them can't you see what I am going through oh my God don't tell me that you are bad and corrupt and shameful Dorian Gray smiled there was a curl of contempt in his lips come upstairs basil he said quietly Diary Of My Life from day to day it never leaves the room in which it is written I shall show it to you if you come with me I shall come with you Dorian if you wish it I see I have missed my train that makes no matter I can go tomorrow but don't ask me to read anything tonight all I want is a plain answer to my question that shall be given to you upstairs I could not give it here you will not have to read long chapter 13. he passed out of the room and began the ascent basil hallwood following close behind they walked Softly As men do instinctively at night the lamp cast fantastic Shadows on the wall and staircase and a rising wind made some of the windows rattle when they reached the top Landing Dorian set the lamp down on the floor taking out the key turned it in the lock you insist on knowing battle he asked in a low voice yes I am delighted he answered smiling he added somewhat harshly you were the one man in the world who was entitled to know everything about me you have had more to do with my life taking off the lamp he opened the door and went in a cold current of air past them and the light shot up for a moment in a flame of murky Orange he shuddered shut the door behind you he was spent he placed the lamp on the table whole wood glanced around him with a puzzled expression the room looked as if it had not been lived in for years a faded Flemish tapestry a curtained picture an almost empty bookcase that was all that it seemed to contain besides a chair and a table as Dorian Gray was lighting a half-burned candle that was standing on The Mantel shelf he saw the whole place was covered with dust the carpet was in Holes a mouse ran scuffling behind the Wayne's coating there was a damp odor of mildew so you think that it's only God who sees the soul bezel draw the curtain back and you will see mine the voice that spoke was cold and cruel you were mad Dorian or playing a part Ed frowned you won't then I must do it myself said the young man and he tore the curtain from its rod and flung It to the Ground an exclamation of horror broke from the painter's lips as he saw in the dim light the Hideous face on the canvas grinning at him there was something in its expression that filled him with disgust in another thing good Heavens it was Dorian Gray's own face that he was looking at the horror whatever it was had not yet entirely spoiled that model this beauty there was still some gold in the thinning hair some Scarlet on the sensual mouth the sodden eyes had kept something of the loveliness out of their blue the noble curves had not yet completely passed away from chiseled nostrils and from plastic throat historian himself but but who had done it he seemed to recognize his own brushwork and frame was his own design the idea was monstrous yet he felt afraid he seized the lighted candle and held it to the picture in the left-hand Corner was his own name traced in Long letters of bright Vermilion it was some foul parody some Infamous ignoble satire he had never done that still it was his own picture he knew it he felt as if his blood had changed a moment from fire to sluggish ice his own picture what did it mean to me why had it altered he turned and looked at Dorian Gray with the eyes of a sick man his mouth twitched and his parched tongue seemed unable to articulate he passed his hand across his forehead it was dank with clammy sweat the young man was leaning against the mental Shelf watching him with that strange expression that one sees on the faces of those who were absorbed in a play when some great artist is acting there was neither real sorrow in it nor real Joy there was simply The Passion of The Spectator perhaps a flicker of Triumph in his eyes he had taken the flower out of his coat and was smelling it or pretending to do so what does this mean cried whole word at last his voice sounded shrill and curious in his own ears years ago when I was a boy said Dorian Gray crushing the flower in his hand you met me flattered me taught me to be vain of my good looks one day you introduced me to a friend of yours who explained to me The Wonder of Youth and you finished a portrait of me that revealed to me The Wonder of beauty in a mad moment even now I don't know whether I regret it or not I made a wish perhaps you would call it a prayer but I remember it oh how will I remember it no the thing is impossible the room is damp mildew has got into the canvas that the paints I used had wretched mineral poison in them I tell you it's impossible ah what is impossible murmured the young man going over to the window and leaning his forehead against the cold mist-stained glass you told me you had destroyed it I was wrong it has destroyed me I don't believe it's my picture can't you see your ideal in it said Dorian bitterly my ideal as you call it as you called it there was nothing evil in it nothing shameful you were to me such an ideal as I shall never meet again this is the face of a sat here face of my soul what a thing I must have worshiped it has the eyes of a devil each of us has Heaven and Hell in him basil hallwood turned again to the portrait and gazed in it my God if it is true he exclaimed and this is what you have done with your life you must be worse even than those who talk against you fancy you to be he held the light up again to the canvas and examined it the surface seemed to be quite undisturbed and as he had left it it was from within apparently that the foulness and horror had come some strange quickening of inner life and the leprosies of sin were slowly eating the thing away the rotting of a corpse in a watery grave was not so fearful his hand and the candle fell from its socket on the floor and lay there sputtering he placed his foot on it and put it out flung himself into the rickety chair that was standing by the table and buried his face in his hands what a lesson what an awful lesson there was no answer but he could hear the young man sobbing at the window prayed oriented pray human what is it that one was taught to say in one's Boyhood lead us not into temptation forgive us our sins wash away our iniquities let us say that together the prayer of your pride has been answered the prayer of your repentance will be answered also I worshiped you too much I am punished for it you worshiped yourself too much we are both punished Dorian Gray turned slowly around and looked at him with teared in eyes it is too late basil he faltered it is never too late Dorian let us kneel down and try if we cannot remember a prayer isn't there a verse somewhere through your sins be a Scarlet yet I will make them as white as snow those words mean nothing to me now hush don't say that you have done enough evil in your life my God don't you see that accursed thing leering at us Dorian Gray glanced at the picture and suddenly an uncontrollable feeling of hatred for Basil Hall that came over him as though it had been suggested to him by the image on the canvas whispered into his ear by grinning lips the Mad passions of a hunted animal stirred within him he loathered the man who was seated at the table more than in his whole life he had ever loathed anything he glanced wildly around something glimmered on top of a painted chest that faced him his eye fell on it he knew what it was it was a knife that he had brought up some days ago to cut a piece of cord he had forgotten to take it away with him he moved slowly towards it passing horwood as he did so as soon as he got behind him he seized it and turned around hallwood stirred in his chair as if he was going to rise he rushed at him and dug the knife into the great vein that is behind the air crushing the man's head down on the table and stabbing again there was a stifled throne the horrible sound of someone choking with blood three times the outstretched arms shot up convulsively waving grotesque stiff fingered hands in the air he stabbed him twice more but the man did not move something began to trickle on the floor he waited for a moment still pressing the head down then he threw the knife on the table and listen he could hear nothing but the drip drip on the thread of air carpet he opened the door and went out on the landing the house was absolutely quiet no one was about for a few seconds he stood bending over and peering down into the black seething well of Darkness he took out the key and returned to the room locking himself in as he did so the thing was still seated in the chair straining over the table with bowed head and humped back and long fantastic arms had it not been for the red Jagged tear in the neck and clotted black pool slowly widening on the table one would have said the man was simply asleep how quickly it had all been done he felt strangely calm walking over to the window he opened it and stepped out onto the balcony the wind had blown the fog away and the sky was like a monstrous peacock's Tale starred with myriads of golden eyes he looked down and saw the policeman coming his rounds flashing the long beam of his Lantern on the doors of Silent houses the Crimson spot of a prowling handsome gleamed at the corner and vanished a woman in a flattering shawl creeping Slowly by the railings staggering as she went now and then she stopped and peered back once she began to sing in a hoarse voice the policeman strolled over and said something to her she stumbled away laughing a bitter blast swept across the square the gas lamps flickered and became blue the leafless trees shook in their black Iron branches went to and fro shivered and went back closing the window behind him having reached the door he turned the key and opened it he did not even glance at the murdered man he felt that the secret of the whole thing was not to realize the situation the friend who had painted the Fatal portrait to which all his misery had been due had gone out of his life that was enough then he remembered the lamp it was a rather curious one of Moorish workmanship made of dull silver and made with arabesques of burnished steel studded with coarse turquoises perhaps it might be missed by his servant questions would be asked dictated for a moment he turned back and took it from the table he could not help seeing the dead thing how still it was how horribly white the long hands looked like a dreadful Wax image having locked the door behind him he crept quietly downstairs the woodwork creaked and seemed to cry out as if in pain he stopped several times and waited no everything was still it was merely the sound of his own footsteps when he reached the library he saw the bag and coked in the corner they must be hidden away somewhere he unlocked a secret press that was in the wings coating and a press in which he kept his own curious disguises and put them into it he could easily burn them afterwards he pulled for his watch it was 20 minutes to two sat down and began to think every year every month almost men were strangled in England for what he had done there had been a Madness of Murder in the air some red star had come too close to Earth and yet what evidence was there against him Hazel hawwood had left the house at 11. no one had seen him come in again most of the servants were at Selby Royal is valet had gone to bed Paris yes it was to Paris that basil had gone and by the midnight train as he had intended with his curious reserved habits it would be months before any suspicion would be roused months everything could be destroyed long before then a sudden thought struck him he put on his fur coat and hacked and went out into the Hall there he paused hearing these slow heavy tread of the policeman on the pavement outside and seeing the flash of the bullseye reflected in the window he waited and held his breath after a few minutes he drew back the latch and slipped out shutting the door gently behind him he began ringing the bell in about five minutes his valet appeared half dressed and looking very drowsy I'm sorry I had to wake you up Francis I had forgotten my latchkey what time is it 10 minutes past two sir answered the man looking at the clock and blinking ten minutes past too how horribly late you must wake me at nine tomorrow I have some work to do all right sir did anyone call this evening Mr hallwood Sir he stayed here till 11 and went away to catch his train oh I'm so sorry I didn't see him did he leave any message no sir except that he would write to you from Paris if he did not find you at the club that will do Francis don't forget to call me at nine tomorrow no sir the man shambled down the passage in his slippers Dorian Gray threw his hat and coat upon the table and passed into the library for a quarter of an hour he walked up and down the room biting his lip and thinking he took down the blue book from one of the shelves and began to turn over the leaves Alan Campbell one five two Hartford Street Mayfair yes that was the man he wanted at nine o'clock the next morning his servant came in with a cup of chocolate on a tray and opened the shutters Dorian was sleeping quite peacefully lying on his right side with one hand underneath his cheek he looked like a boy who had been tired out with play or study the man had to touch him twice on the shoulder before he woke and as he opened his eyes a faint smile passed across his lips as though he had been lost in some delightful dream yet he had not dreamed at all his night had been untroubled by any images of pleasure or but youth Smiles without any reason it is one of its chiefest charms he turned round and leaning upon his elbow began to sip his chocolate the Mellow November sun came streaming into the room the sky was bright genial warmth in the air it was almost like a morning in May gradually the events of the preceding night crept with silent blood-stained feet into his brain and reconstructed themselves there with terrible distinctness he winced at the memory of all that he had suffered then for a moment the same curious feeling of loathing for Basil hallwood that had made him kill him as he sat in the chair came back to him and he grew cold with passion the dead man was still sitting there too and in the sunlight now how horrible that was such hideous things were for the darkness not for the day he felt that if he brooded on what he had gone through he sicken or grow mad there were sins whose Fascination was more in the memory than in the doing strange triumphs that gratified The Pride more than the passions and gave to the intellect a quickened sense of joy greater than any Joy they brought could ever bring to the senses but this was not one of them it was a thing to be driven out of the Mind to be drugged with poppies strangled lest it might strangle one itself when the half hour struck he passed his hand across his forehead and then got up hastily and dressed himself with even eventual care giving a good deal of attention to the choice of his necktie and scarf pin and changing his Rings more than once a long time over about tasting the various dishes talking to his valet about some new liveries that he was thinking of getting made for the servants at sell me going through his correspondence at some of the letters smiled three of them bored him one he read several times over and then tore up with a slight look of annoyance in his face social thing a woman's memory as Lord Henry had once said after he had drunk his cup of black coffee he wiped his lips slowly with a napkin motioned to his servant to wait then going over to the table sat down and wrote two letters one he put in his pocket and the other he handed to the valet take this round to 152 Hartford Street Francis and if Mr Campbell is out of town get his address as soon as he was alone he lit a cigarette and began sketching upon a piece of paper drawing first flowers and bits of architecture and then human faces suddenly he remarks that every face he drew seemed to have a fantastic likeness to Basil hallwood he frowned and getting up went over to the bookcase and took out a volume at hazard he was determined that he would not think what had happened until it became absolutely necessary that he that he should do so when he had stretched himself on the sofa he looked at the title page of the book it was gautier's emo ekame sharpentier's Japanese paper Edition with the jacquesmart etching The Binding was of Citron green leather with a design of guilt trellis work and dotted pomegranates it had been given to him by Adrian Singleton as he turned over the pages his eye fell on the poem about the hand of La senior the cold yellow hand with its doughy red hairs he danced at his white taper fingers shuddering slightly in spite of himself and passed on till he came to some lovely stanzas on Venice how Exquisite they were as one read them one seemed to be floating down the green waterways of the pink and pearl City seated in a black Gondola with silver prow and trailing curtains the mere lines looked to him like those straight lines of turquoise blue that follows one pushes out to the leader the sudden flashes of color reminded him of The Gleam of the opal and iris-throated birds that flutter around the tall honeycombed Campanile or stalk with such stately grace through the dim dust-stained arcades he remembered the Autumn that he had passed there and a wonderful love that had stirred him to Mad delightful voice there was romance in every place but Venice like Oxford had kept the background for romance and to the true romantic background was everything or almost everything basil had been with him part of the time and had gone wild over tintorette Port basil what a horrible way for a man to die he sighed and took up the volume again trying to forget he read of the swallows that fly in and out of the little cafe at Smyrna where the heartgies sit counting amber beads and turbaned Merchants smoke wrong tasseled pipes talking he read of the obelisk in the palace Stella Concorde that weeps tears of granite in its lovely sunless exile be back my hot Lotus covered nail where there are sphinxes and rose red ibises and white vultures with gilded claws crocodiles with small Barrel eyes that crawl over green steaming life he began to brood at those verses withdrawing music from Kiss stained marble tell of a curious statue that Gautier compares to a contralto voice but after a Time the book fell from his hand and a horrible fit of Terror came over him what if Alan Campbell should be out of England days would elapse before he could come back perhaps he might refuse to come what could he do then every moment was of vital importance they had been great friends once five years before almost inseparable and the intimacy had come suddenly to an end when they met in society now it was only Dorian Gray who smiled Alan Campbell never did he was an extremely clever young man though he had no real appreciation of the visible Arts whatever little sense of the beauty of poetry he possessed he had gained entirely from Dorian his dominant intellectual passion was for science at Cambridge he had spent a great deal of time working in the laboratory he had taken a good class in the natural science tripos of his year indeed he was still devoted to the study of chemistry and had a laboratory of his own in which he used to shut himself up all day long greatly to the annoyance of his mother who had set her heart on his standing for Parliament had a vague idea that a chemist was a person who made up prescriptions he was an excellent musician however as well and played both the violin and the piano better than most amateurs in fact it was music that had first bought him and Dorian together music and that indefinable attraction that Dorian seemed to be able to exercise whenever he wished and indeed exercised often without being conscious of it they had met at lady marches that night that Rubenstein played there and after that used to be always seen together at the Opera and wherever good music was going on for 18 months their intimacy lasted Campbell was always either at Selby Royal or in groves in the Square to him as to many others Dorian Gray was the type of everything that is wonderful and fascinating in life whether or not a quarrel had taken place between them no one ever knew but suddenly people remarked that they had scarcely spoken when they met and that Campbell seemed always to go away early from any party at which Dorian was present he had changed too was strangely Melancholy at times appeared almost dislike hearing music would never himself play giving this his excuse when he was called upon that he was so absorbed in science that he had no time left in which to practice and this was certainly true every day he seemed to become more interested in biology and his name appeared once or twice in some of the scientific reviews in connection with certain curious experiments this was the man that Dorian Gray was waiting for every second he kept glancing at the clock as the minutes went by he became horribly agitated at last he got up and began to Pace up and down the room looking like a beautiful caged thing he took long stealthy strides his hands were curiously cold the suspense became unbearable time seemed to him to be crawling with feet of lead while he by monstrous winds was being swept towards the jagged edge of some black cleft of precipice he knew what was waiting for him there saw it indeed and shuddering crashed with Dank hands his burning lids as though he would have robbed the very brain of sight driven the eyeballs back into their cave it was useless the brain had its own food on which it battened and the imagination made grotesque by Terror twisted and distorted as a living thing by pain danced like some foul puppet on a stand and grinned through moving masks suddenly time stopped for him yes that blind slow breathing thing crawled no more and horrible thoughts time being dead raced nimbly on in front and dragged a hideous future from its great showed it to him he stared at him it's very Horror made him Stone at last the door opened and his servant entered he turned glazed eyes upon him Mr Campbell sir said the man sigh of relief broke from his parched lips and the color came back to his cheeks ask him to come in at once Francis felt he was himself again his mood of cowardice had passed away the man bowed and retired and in a few moments Alan Campbell walked in looking very Stern and rather pale his power being intensified by his cold black hair and dark eyebrows Allen this is kind of you I thank you for coming I had intended never to enter your house again Gray but you said it was a matter of life and death his voice was hard and cold he spoke with slow deliberation there was a look of contempt in these steady searching gays that he turned on Dorian he kept his hands in the pockets of his coat and seemed not to have noticed the gesture with which he had been greeted yes it is a matter of life and death Helen and to more than one person sit down Campbell took a chair by the table and Dorian sat opposite him the two men's eyes met in dorians there was infinite pity he knew that what he was going to do was Dreadful after a strained moment of silence he leaned across and said very quietly but watching the effect of each word upon the face of him he is sent for Alan in a locked room at the top of this house a room to which nobody has access but myself a dead man is seated at a table he has been dead for 10 hours now and don't look at me like that who the man is why he died how he died are matters that do not concern you but what you have to do is this stop Gray I don't want to know anything further whether what you have told me is true or not true doesn't concern me I entirely declined to be mixed up in your life keep your horrible secrets to yourself they don't interest me anymore Alan but they will have to interest you but this one will have to interest you I'm awfully sorry for you Allen but I can't help myself you were the only man who is able to save me I'm forced to bring you into the matter I have no option Alan you were scientific you know about chemistry things of that kind you have made experiments what you've got to do is destroy the thing that is upstairs to destroy it so that not a Vestige of it will be left nobody saw this person come into the house indeed at the present moment he's supposed to be in Paris he will not be missed for months when he is missed there must be no trace of him found here you Alan you must change him and everything that belongs to him into a handful of Ashes that I may scatter in the air you are mad Dorian uh I was waiting for you to call me Dorian you are mad I tell you mad to imagine that I would raise a finger to help you mad to make this monstrous confession I will have nothing to do with this matter whatever it is do you think I'm going to Peril my reputation for you what is it to me what devil's work you're up to it was suicide Alan I'm glad of that but who drove him to it you I should fancy do you still refuse to do this for me of course I refuse I will have absolutely nothing to do with it I don't care or shame comes on you you deserve it all I should not be sorry to see you disgraced publicly disgraced how dare you ask me of all men in the world to mix myself up in this horror I should have thought you knew more about people's characters your lord Henry Wooten kind of taught you much about psychology whatever else he has taught you nothing will induce me to stir a step to help you you have come to the wrong man go to some of your friends don't come to me Alan it was murder I killed him you don't know what he had made me suffer whatever my life is he had more to do with the making or the marring of it than poor Harry has had he may not have intended it but the result was the same murder good God Dorian is that what you have come to I shall not inform upon you it is not my business besides without my staring in the matter he was certain to be arrested nobody ever commits a crime without doing something stupid but I will have nothing to do with it you must have something to do with it wait wait a moment listen to me only listen Alan all I ask of you is to perform a certain scientific experiment you go to hospitals and dead houses and the horrors that you do that don't affect you if in some hideous dissecting we're a more fettered laboratory you found this man lying on a laden table with red gutters scooped out in it for the blood to flow through you would simply look upon him as an admirable subject you would not turn a hair you would not believe that you were doing anything wrong on the contrary you would probably feel that you are benefiting the human race increasing the sum of knowledge in the world gratifying intellectual curiosity something of that kind what I want you to do is merely what you have often done before indeed to destroy your body must be far less horrible than what you are accustomed to work at and remember it is the only piece of evidence against me if it is discovered I am lost and it is sure to be discovered unless you help me I have no desire to help you you forget that I am simply indifferent to the whole thing it has nothing to do with me Alan I intrigued here think of the position I am in just before you came I almost fainted with Terror you may know Terry yourself someday no don't think of that look at the matter purely from a scientific point of view you don't inquire where the dead things on which you experiment come from don't inquire now I've told you too much as it is but I beg of you to do this we were friends once Alan those days Dorian they are dead the dead linger sometimes the man upstairs will not go away he's sitting at the table with bowed head and outstretched arms Alan if you don't come to my assistance I am ruined they will hang me Alan don't you understand they will hang me for what I have done there is no good in prolonging the scene I refuse absolutely to do anything in the matter it is insane of you to ask me you refuse yes I am treat you Alan it is useless the same look of pity came into Dorian Gray's eyes he stretched out his hand took a piece of paper and wrote something on it he read it over twice folded it carefully and pushed it across the table having done this he got up and went over to the window Campbell looked at him in Surprise he took up the paper and opened it as he read it his face became ghastly pale and he fell back in his chair a horrible sense of sickness came over him he felt as if his heart was beating itself to death in some empty Hollow after two or three minutes of terrible silence Dorian turned round and came and stood behind him putting his hand on his shoulder I am so sorry for you Alan he murmured will you leave me no alternative I have a letter written already here it is see the address if you don't help me I must send it if you don't help me I will send it you know what the result will be but you are going to help me it is impossible for you to refuse now I tried to spare you you will do me the Justice to admit that you were Stern harsh offensive you treated me as no man has ever dared to treat me no living man at any rate now it is for me to dictate terms Campbell buried his face in his hands in a shudder passed through him yes it is my turn to dictate terms Alan you know what they are the thing is quite simple come don't work yourself into this fever the thing has to be done face it and do it a groan broke from Campbell's lips and he shivered all over the ticking of the clock on the mentalpiece seemed to him to be dividing time into separate atoms of agony Each of which was too terrible to be born he felt as if an iron ring was being slowly tightened around his forehead as if the disgrace with which he was threatened had already come upon him the hand upon his shoulder weighed like a hand of lead it was intolerable seemed to crash him come Ellen you must decide at once cannot do it he said mechanically as though words could alter things you must you have no choice don't delay he hesitated a moment is there a fire in the room upstairs yes there is a gas fire with asbestos I shall have to go home and get some things from the laboratory no Alan you must not leave the house write out on a Note Paper what you want and my servant will take a cab and bring things back to you Campbell scrolled a few lines blotted them addressed an envelope to his assistant Dorian took the note up and read it carefully he rang the bell and gave it to his valet with orders to return as soon as possible to bring the things with him as the whole door shut Campbell started nervously having got up from the chair he went over to the chimney piece he was shivering for nearly 20 minutes neither of the men spoke a fly buzzed noisily about the room and the ticking of the clock was like the beat of a hammer as the chime Struck One Campbell turned round looking at Dorian Gray he saw that his eyes were filled with tears there was something in the Purity and refinement of that sad face that seemed to enrage him infamous absolutely Infamous he muttered hush Allen you've saved my life said Dorian your life with heavens what a life that is you've gone from corruption to corruption and now you have culminated in crime in doing what I am going to do what you force me to do it is not of your life that I'm thinking ah Alan merman Dorian with a sigh she had a thousandth part of the pity for me that I have for you he turned away as he spoke and stood looking out at the Garden Campbell made no answer after about 10 minutes a knock came to the door and the servant entered carrying a large mahogany chest of chemicals a long Quail of Steel and platinum wire and two rather curiously shaped iron clamps shall I leave the things here sir he asked Campbell yes said Dorian and I'm afraid Francis that I have another errand for you what is the name of the man at Richmond who supplies Selby with orchids hardens her yes Harden you must go down to Richmond at once see hardened personally tell him to send twice as many orchids as I ordered and to have as few white ones as possible in fact I don't want any white ones is a lovely day Francis and Richmond is a very pretty Place otherwise I wouldn't bother you about it no trouble sir what time shall I be back Dorian looked at cam how long will your experiment take Helen he said in a calm indifferent voice the presence of a third person in the room seemed to give him extraordinary courage Campbell frowned and bit his lip take about five hours he answered it will be time enough then if you are back at half past seven Francis or stay just leave my things out for dressing you can have the evening to yourself I'm not dining at home so I shall not want you said the man leaving the room now Alan there is not a moment to be lost how heavy this chest is I'll take it for you you bring the other things spoke rapidly in an authoritative manner Campbell felt dominated by him they left the room together when they reached the top Landing Dorian took out the key and turned it in the lock then he stopped and a troubled look came into his eyes I don't think I can go in Allen he murmured it is nothing to me require you said Campbell coldly Dorian half opened the door as he did so he saw the face of his portrait leering in the sunlight on the floor in front of it the torn curtain was lying he remembered the night before he had forgotten for the first time in his life to hide the Fatal canvas he was about to rush forward when he drew back with a shadow loathsome Red Deer that gleamed wet and glistening on one of the hands as though canvas had sweated blood how horrible it was more horrible it seemed to him for the moment that the silent thing that he knew was stretched across the table the thing whose grotesque misshapen shadow on the spotted carpet showed him that it had not stirred but was still there as he had left it heaved a deep breath opened the door a little wider and with half closed eyes and averted head walked quickly in determined he would not even once look upon the dead man stooping down and taking up the golden purple hanging he flung it over the picture there he stopped feeling afraid to turn around his eyes fixed themselves on the intricacies of the pattern before him had Campbell bringing in the heavy chest the ions the other things he required for his Dreadful work he began to wonder if he and basil hallwood had ever met and if so what they had thought of each other leave me now said a Stern voice behind him he turned and hurried out just conscious that the dead man had been thrust back into the chair Campbell was gazing into a glistening yellow face as he was going downstairs he heard the key being turned in the lock it was long after seven when Campbell came back into the library he was pale but absolutely calm I have done what you asked me to do and now goodbye let us never see each other again you've saved me from ruin Allen I cannot forget that said Dorian simply as soon as Campbell had left he went upstairs it was a horrible smell of nitric acid in the room but the thing that had been sitting at the table was gone that evening at 8 30 exquisitely dressed and wearing a large buttonhole of Palmer violets Dorian Gray was ushered into lady nabra's drawing room by bowing servants his forehead was throbbing with maddened nerves and he felt wildly excited his manner as he bent over his hostess's hand was as easy and graceful as ever perhaps one never seems so much at one's ease as when one has to play a part certainly no one looking at Dorian Gray that night could have believed that he had passed through a tragedy as horrible as any tragedy of our age those finely shaped fingers could never have clutched a knife for sin nor those smiling lips have cried out on God and goodness he himself could not help wandering at the calm of his demeanor for a moment he felt keenly the terrible pleasure of a double life it was a small party got up rather in a hurry by lady nabra who was a very clever woman with what Lord Henry used to describe as the remains of a really remarkable ugliness she had proved an excellent wife to one of our most tedious ambassadors having buried her husband properly in a Marvel Mausoleum which she had herself designed and married off her daughters to some rich rather elderly men she devoted herself now to the pleasures of French fiction French cookery and French aspirit when she could get it Dorian was one of her special favorites She always told him that she was extremely glad that she had not met him in early life I know my dear I should have fallen madly in love with you she used to say thrown my Bonnet right over the mills for your sake it is most fortunate that you were not thought of at that time as it was our bonnets with someone becoming and the Mills were so occupied in trying to raise the wind that I never had even a flirtation with anybody however that was all nabra's fault he was dreadfully short-sighted and there is no pleasure in taking in a husband who never sees anything her guests this evening were rather tedious the fact was as she explained to Dorian behind a very shabby fan one of her married daughters had come up quite suddenly to stay with her and to make matters worse had actually brought her husband with her the most unkind of her idea she whispered of course I go and stay with them every summer after I come home from Hamburg but an old woman like me must have fresh air sometimes besides I really wake them up you don't know what's in existence they lead down there it is pure unadulterated Country Life they get up early because they have so much to do and go to bed early because they have so little to think about the time of Queen Elizabeth consequently they all fall asleep after dinner you Shan sit next to either of them you shall sit by me and amuse me Dorian mermaid a graceful compliment and looked around the room yes it was certainly a tedious party two of the people he had never seen before the others consisted of Ernest harridan one of those middle-aged mediocrities so common in London clubs who have no enemies but are thoroughly disliked by their friends lady ruxton an over-dressed woman of 47 with a hooked nose she was always trying to get herself compromised but was so peculiarly plain to her great disappointment no one would ever believe anything against her Mrs Allen a pushing nobody with a delightful lisp and Venetian red hair lady Alice Chapman his hostess's daughter a Dowdy dull girl with one of those characteristic British faces that once seen are never remembered her husband a red cheeked white whiskered creature who like so many of his class was under the impression that inordinate joviality can atone for an entire lack of ideas he was rather sorry he had come till lady nabra looking at the great omalu guilt clock that sprawled in gaudy curves on the Move draped mental shelf exclaimed how horrid of Henry Wooten to be so late he sent round to him this morning on chance and he promised Faithfully not to disappoint me it was some consolation that Harry was to be there and when the door opened he heard his slow musical voice lending charm to some insincere apology he ceased to feel bored but at dinner he could not eat anything plate after plate went away untasted lady nabra kept scolding him for what she called an insult to put Adolf who invented the menu especially for you and now and then Lord Henry looked across at him wondering that his silence and abstracted manner from time to time the butler filled his glass with champagne drank eagerly his thirst seemed to increase Dorian said Lord Henry at last as the showed Freud was being handed around what is the matter with you tonight you are quite out of sorts I believe he is in love great lady nabra and that he's afraid to tell me for fear I should be jealous he's quite right he certainly should dear lady nabra mermaid Dorian smiling I have not been in love for a whole week in fact since Madame de feral left town how you men can fall in love with that woman exclaimed the old lady I really cannot understand it it is simply because she remembers you when you were a little girl lady nabra said Lord Henry she is the one link between us and short frocks she does not remember my short frocks at all Lord Henry but I remember her very well at Vienna 30 years ago and how the culting she was then she is still Dakota he answered taking an olive in his long fingers and when she is in a very smart gown she looks like an additional Deluxe of a bad French novel she is really wonderful and full of surprises her capacity for family affection is extraordinary when her third husband died her hair turned quite gold from grief how can you Harry cried Dorian it is the most romantic explanation after the hostess but her third husband Lord Henry you don't mean to say feral is the fourth certainly lady nabra I don't believe a word of it well ask Mr Gray he's one of her most intimate friends is it true Mr Gray she assures me so lady nabra said Dorian I asked her whether like Marguerite de Navarre she had their hearts embalmed and hung at her girdle she told me she didn't because none of them had any hearts at all four husbands upon my word that isil she said Dorian oh she is audacious enough for anything my dear and what is feral like I don't know him the husbands of very beautiful women belong to the criminal classes said Lord Henry sipping his wine lady nabra hit him with her fan Lord Henry I'm not at all surprised that the world says you are extremely Wicked but what world says that ask Lord Henry elevating his eyebrows it can only be the next world this world and I are on excellent terms everybody I know says you are very Wicked crack the old lady shaking her head Lord Henry looked serious for some moments it is perfectly monstrous he said at last the way people go about nowadays saying things against one behind one's back that are absolutely and entirely true isn't he incorrigible cried Dorian leaning forward in his chair I hope so said the hostess laughing but really if you will worship Madame de feral in this ridiculous way I shall have to marry again so as to be in the fashion you will never marry again lady navra broken Lord Henry far too happy when a woman marries again it is because she'd tested her first husband when a man marries again it is because he adored his first wife women try their luck men risk this number wasn't perfect to create the old lady if he had been you would not have loved him my dear lady women love us for our defects if we have enough of them they will forgive us everything even our intellect you will never ask me to dinner again after saying this I'm afraid lady nabra but it is quite true of course it is true Lord Henry if we women did not love you for your defects where would you all be not one of you would ever be married you would be a set of unfortunate bachelors not however that that would all to you much nowadays all the married men live like bachelors and all the Bachelors like married men Lord Henry Finn du Globe answered his hostess I wish it were finned the globe said Dorian with a sigh life is a great disappointment oh my dear cried lady nabra putting on her gloves don't tell me that you have exhausted life when a man says that one knows that life has exhausted him Lord Henry is very Wicked and I sometimes wish that I had been but you were made to be good you look so good I must find you a nice wife Lord Henry don't you think that Mr Gray should get married I am always telling him so lady nabra said Lord Henry with a bow well we must look out for a suitable match for him I shall go through debrandt carefully tonight and draw out a list of all the eligible young ladies with their ages lady nabra asked Dorian of course with their ages slightly edited but nothing must be done in a hurry I want it to be what the morning post calls a notable Alliance and I want you both to be happy what nonsense people talk about happy marriages exclaimed Lord Henry a man can be happy with any woman as long as he does not love her ah what a cynic you are quite the old lady pushing back her chair and nodding to lady ruxton you must come and dine with me soon again you are really an admirable tonic better than what sir Andrew prescribes for me you must tell me what people you would like to meet though I want it to be a delightful Gathering I like men who have a future and women who have a past he answered or do you think that would make it a petticoat party I fear so she said laughing as she stood up a thousand pardons my dear lady ruxton I didn't see that you hadn't finished your cigarette never mind lady nabra I smoke a great deal too much I'm going to limit myself for the future pray don't lady ruxton said Lord Henry moderation is a fatal thing enough is as bad as a meal more than enough is as good as a feast lady ruxton glanced at him curiously you must come and explain that one to me some afternoon Lord Henry it sounds a fascinating Theory she swept out of the room now mind you don't stay too long over your politics and Scandal cried lady nabra from the door if you do we're sure to squabble upstairs the men laughed and Mr Chapman got up solemnly from the foot of the table and came up to the top Dorian Gray changed his seat and went and sat by Lord Henry Mr Chapman began to talk play a loud voice about the situation in the House of Commons he go forward at his adversaries the word doctrinaire word full of Terror to the British mind reappeared from time to time between his explosions an alliterative prefix served as an ornament of oratory he hoisted the Union Jack on the Pinnacles of thought the inherited stupidity of the race sound English Common Sense he joke really termed it was shown to be the proper bulwark for society a smile curved Lord Henry's lips he turned round and looked at Dorian but you better my dear fellow you seemed rather out of sorts at dinner I am quite well Harry I'm tired that's all you were Charming last night the little Duchess is quite devoted to you she tells me she's going down to Selby she's promised to come on the 20th it is a Monmouth to be there too oh yes Harry he bores me dreadfully almost as much as he bores her she's very clever too clever for a woman she lacks the indefinable charm of weakness it's the feet of clay that make the gold of the image precious her feet are very pretty but they're not feet of clay white porcelain feet if you like they've been through the fire and what fire does not destroy it hardens she has had experiences how long has she been married ask Dorian an eternity she tells me I believe according to the peerage that it's 10 years but 10 years with Monmouth must be like eternity with time thrown in who else is coming oh the willoughbys Lord rugby and his wife our Hostess Jeffrey clouston the usual set I've asked Lord grotrian I like him said Lord Henry a great many people don't but I find him Charming he atones for being occasionally somewhat overdressed by being always absolutely overeducated he's a very modern type I don't know if he'll be able to come Harry he may have to go to Monte Carlo with his father ah what a nuisance people's people are try and make him come by the way Dorian you ran off early last night you left before 11. what did you do afterwards did you go straight home Dorian glanced at him hurriedly and frowned no Harry I did not get home until nearly three did you go to the club yes he answered he bit his lap no I don't mean that I didn't go to the club I walked about I forget what I did how inquisitive you are Harry you always want to know what one has been doing I always went to forget what I've been doing I came in at half past two if you wish to know the exact time I had left my latchkey at home and my servant had to let me in if you want any corroborative evidence on the subject you can ask him Lord Henry shrunk his shoulders my dear fella as if I cared let us go up in the drawing room no Sherry thank you Mr Chapman some things happened to you Dorian tell me what it is you are not yourself tonight don't mind me Harry I'm irritable I'm out of temper I shall come around and see you tomorrow or next day make my excuses to lady nabra I shan't go upstairs I must go home all right Dorian hey dare say I shall see you tomorrow tea time The Duchess is coming I will try to be there Harry he said leaving the room as he drove back to his own house he was conscious that the sense of Terror he thought he had strangled had come back to him Lord Henry's casual questioning had made him lose his nerve for the moment he wanted his nerves still things that were dangerous had to be destroyed he winced he hated the idea of even touching them yet it had to be done he realized that and when he had blocked the door of his Library he opened the secret press into which he had thrust metal Howard's coat and bag a huge fire was Blazing He piled another log on the smell of the singing clothes and burning leather was horrible it took him three quarters of an hour to consume everything at the end he felt faint and sick having let some Algerian pastels into a pierced copper Brazier he bathed his hands and forehead with a cool musk scented vinegar suddenly he started his eyes grew strangely bright he gnawed nervously at his underlip between two of the windows that a large Florentine cabinet made out of ebony inlaid with ivory he watched it as though it were a thing that could Fascinate and make afraid as though it held something that he longed for and yet almost loathed his breath quickened a mad craving came over him he lit a cigarette and then threw it away his eyelids drooped till the long fringed lashes almost touched his cheek but he still watched the cabinet at last he got up from the sofa on which he had been lying and went out of a twin having unlocked it touched some Hidden Spring a triangular drawer passed slowly out his fingers moved instinctively towards it dipped in and closed in on something it was a small Chinese box of Black and Gold Dust lacquer elaborately wrought sides patterned with curved waves he opened it inside was a green paste waxy the odor curiously heavy and persistent he hesitated for some moments with a strangely immobile smile upon his face shivering though the atmosphere of the room was terribly hot he drew himself up and glanced the clock it was 20 minutes to 12. he put the box back shutting the cabinet doors as he did so and went into his bedroom as midnight was striking bronze blows upon the duskier Dorian Gray dressed commonly with a muffler wrapped around his throat he crept quietly out of his house in Bond Street he found a handsome with a good horse held it and in a low voice gave the driver an address the man shook his head that is too far for me he muttered here is a sovereign for you said Dorian you shall have another if you drive fast alright sir you'll be there in an hour after his fare had got in he turned his horse round and drove rapidly to walk chapter 16. a cold rain began to fall the Blurred Street Lamp slipped ghastly in the dripping mist the public houses were just closing and dim men and women were clustering in broken groups around their doors from some of the bars came the sound of horrible laughter 's drunkards brawled and screamed lying back in the handsome with his hat pulled over his forehead Dorian Gray watched with listless eyes the sordid Shame of the great City and now and then he repeated to himself the words that Lord Henry had said to him on the first day they had met to cure the soul by means of the senses and the senses by means of the Soul yes that was the secret he had often tried it and would try it again now there were opium dens where one could buy Oblivion dens of horror where the memory of old sins could be destroyed by The Madness of sins that were new the moon hung low in the sky like a yellow skull from time to time a huge misshapen Cloud stretched along arm across and hit it the gas lamps grew fewer the streets more narrow and gloomy once the man lost his way and had to drive back half a mile a steam Rose from the horse as it splashed up the puddles the side windows of the handsome were clogged with gray final mist to cure the Soul by means of the senses and the senses by means of the Soul how the words rang in his ears his soul certainly was sick to death was it true that the senses could cure it innocent blood had been spelled what could atone for that for that there was no atonement but though forgiveness was impossible forgetfulness was possible still and he was determined to forget to stamp the thing out to crush it as one would crush the adder that had stunned one indeed what right had basiled to have spoken to him as he had done who had made him a judge over others he had said things that were Dreadful horrible not to be endured on and on plotted the handsome going slower it seemed to him in each step he thrusts up the Trap and called to the man to drive faster the Hideous hunger for opium began to Nore at him throat burned delicate hands to sleep together he struck at the horse madly with his stick the driver laughed and whipped up he laughed in answer and the man was silent the way he seemed internment the streets like the black web of some sprawling spider the monotony became unbearable and as the Mist thickened you felt afraid then they passed by a lonely brick fields fog was lighter here you could see the strange bottle-shaped Kilns with their orange fan-like tongues of fire a dog barked as they went by far away in the darkness some wondering seeful scream the horse stumbled in a rut then swerved aside and broke into a gallop after some time they left the Clay Road and rattled again over rough Paving streets most of the windows were dark but now and then fantastic Shadows were silhouetted against some lamplet blind he watched them curiously they moved like monstrous marionettes gestures like live things a double range was in his heart as they turned a corner a woman yelled something at them from an Open Door two men ran after the handsome for about a hundred yards the driver beated them with his whip it is said that passion makes one think in a circle certainly with Hideous iteration the bit and lips of Dorian Gray shaped and reshaped those subtle words that dealt with soul and sense until he had founded them the full expression as it were of his mood justified by intellectual approval passions that without such justification would still have dominated his temper from cell to cell of his brain cracked the one thought the wild desire to live most terrible of all man's appetites quickened into Force each trembling nerve and fiber ugliness that had once been hateful to him because it made things real became dear to him now for that very reason ugliness was the one reality the course for all the loathsome Den the crude violence of disordered life the very vileness of thief and outcast they were more Vivid in their intense actuality of impression than all the gracious shapes of Art dreamy Shadows of song they were what he needed for forgetfulness in the three days he would be free suddenly the man Drew up with a jerk at the top of a dark Lane over the low roofs and Jagged chimney stacks of the houses whereas the black masts of ships wreaths of white Mist clung like ghostly sails to the Arts somewhere about here sir ain't it he asked huskily through the Trap Dorian stared and peered round this will do he answered having got out hastily and given the driver the extra fare he had promised him he walked quickly in the direction of the key here and there a lantern gleamed at the stern of some huge merchantment the light Shook and splintered in the puddles a red glare came from an outlet-bound steamer that was colon the slimy pavement looked like a wet Macintosh he hurried on towards the left glancing back now and then to see if he was being followed in about seven or eight minutes he reached a small shabby house that was wedged in between two gaunt factories in one of the top Windows stood alone he stopped and gave a peculiar knock after a little time he heard steps in the passage and the chain being unhooked the door opened quietly he went in without saying a word to the squat misshapen figure that flattened itself into the shadow as he passed at the end of the hall hung a tattered green curtain that swayed and shook in Gusty wind which had followed him in from the street he dragged it aside and entered a long boat run which looked as if it had once been a third-rate dancing Saloon shrill flaring gas jets dulled and distorted in the fly-blown mirrors that faced them ranged around the walls greasy reflectors of ribbed tin back to them making quivering discs of light floor was covered with ocher colored sawdust trampled here and there into mud and stained with dark rings of spilled liquor some malaise were crouching by a little charcoal stove playing with bone counters showing their white teeth as they chatted in one corner with his head buried in his arms a sailor sprawled over a table by The tortilly Painted bar that ran across one complete side instead two Haggard women mocking an old man who was brushing the sleeves of his coat with an expression of disgust he thinks he's got red ants on him laughed one of them Dorian passed by the man looked at her in Terror and began to whimper at the end of the room there was a little staircase leading to a darkened chamber as Dorian hurried up its three rickety steps the heavy odor of opium met him he [Music] breath his nostrils quivered with pleasure when he entered a young man with smooth yellow hair was bending over a lamplighting a long thin pipe he looked up at him and nodded in a hesitating manner you hear Adrian matadorian where else should I be he answered listlessly the chaps will speak to me now I thought you had left England Darlington is not going to do anything my brother paid the bill at last George doesn't speak to me either I don't care side as long as one has this stuff one doesn't want friends I think I've had too many friends the Orient winds and looked round of the grotesque things that lay in such fantastic postures on ragged mattresses Twisted men gaping melts the staring luster the size fascinated him he knew in what strange Heavens they were suffering dull hell could have some new Joy they were better off than he was he was prisoned in thought memory like a horrible melody was eating his soul from time to time he seemed to see the eyes of Basil hallwood looking at him he felt he could not stay the presence of Adrian Singleton troubled him he wanted to be where no one would know who he was he wanted to escape from himself I'm going on to the other place he said after a pause on the wharf yes the mad cat is sure to be there they won't have her in this place now Dorian Shrugged his shoulders I'm sick of women who love one who hate one are much more interesting besides the stuff is better I like it better come have something to drink I must have something I don't want anything man with the young man never mind Adrian Singleton rose up wearily followed Dorian to the bar a man in a ragged turban a Chevy Ulster grinned hideous greetings he thrusts the bottle of brandy in two tumblers in front of them the women sidled up and began to chatter Dorian turned his back on them and said something in a low voice to Adrian Singleton a crooked smile right across the face of one of the women we are very proud tonight she smeared God seek don't talk to me Craig Dorian stamping his foot on the ground what do you want money here it is the talk to me again to rent Sparks flashed for a moment in the woman's sodden eyes then flickered out and left them dull and glazed she tossed her head and ranked the coins off the counter with greedy fingers her companion watched her enviously it's no use side Adrian Singleton I don't care to go back what does it matter I'm quite happy here you will write to me if you want anything won't you says Dorian after a pause night then passing up the steps and wiping his parched mouth with a handkerchief Dorian walked to the door with a look of pain in his face as he drew the carton aside a hideous laugh broke from The Painted lips of the woman who had taken his money there goes the devil's bargain she hiccoft in a hoarse voice curse you he answered don't call me that she snapped her fingers Prince Charming's what you like to be called ain't it she yelled after him The Drowsy sailor leapt to his feet as she spoke and looked wildly around the sound of the shutting of the whole door fell on his ear he rushed out as if in Pursuit Dorian Gray hurried along the key through drizzling rain his meeting with Adrian Singleton had strangely moved him he wondered if that ruin of a young life was really to be laid at his door as basil hallwood had said to him with such infamy of insult he bit his lip and for a few seconds his eyes grew sad after all what did it matter to him one's days were too brief to take the burden of another's errors on one's shoulders each man lived his own life and paid his own price for living it the only pity was one that had to pay so often for a single fault one had to pay over and over again in her dealings with man Destiny never closed her accounts there are moments psychologists tell us when the passion for sin or for what the world calls sin so dominates a nature that every fiber of the body as every cell of the brain seems to be Instinct with fearful impulses men and women at such moments lose the freedom of their will to that terrible end as automatons move choice is taken from them conscience is either killed or if it lives at all lives but to give Rebellion its Fascination in his charm for all sins as theologians weary not of reminding us as sins of disobedience when that High Spirit that morning star of evil fell from heaven it was as a rebel that he fell callous concentrated on evil with stained mind and soul hungry for Rebellion Dorian Gray hastened on quickening his step as he went as he darted aside into a dim Archway that had served him often as a shortcut to this ill-famed place where he was going he felt himself seized from behind before he had time to defend himself he was thrust back against the wall with a brutal hand round his throat he struggled madly for life and by a terrible effort wrenched the tightening fingers away in a second he heard the click of a revolver and saw The Gleam of a polished Barrel pointing straight at his head the Dusky form of a short thick set man facing him what do you want he asked keep quiet said the man if you stir I shoot you you are mad what have I done to you you wrecked the life of Sybil vain vein was my sister she killed herself I know it her death is at your door I swore I would kill you in return for years I have sought you I had no clue no Trace the two people who could have described you were dead I knew nothing of you but the pet name she used to call you I heard it tonight by chance make your peace with God for tonight you will die Dorian Gray grew sick with fear I never knew her he said I never heard of her you were mad you would better confess your sin for as sure as I am James vane you are going to die there was a horrible lemon I don't know what to say or do down on your knees growl the man I'll give you one minute to make your peace no more tonight for India and I must do my job first one minute that's all dorian's arms fell to his side paralyzed with Terror he did not know what to do suddenly a wild hope flashed across his brain stop he cried how long is it since your sister died quick tell me 18 years said the man why do you ask what he is matter 18 years left Dorian Gray With A Touch of Triumph in his voice 18 years set me under the lamp and look at my face James Wayne hesitated for a moment not understanding what was meant he sees Dorian Gray and dragged him from the archway dim and wavering as was the wind blown light yet it served to show him the Hideous era as it seemed into which he had fallen the face of the man he had sought to kill had all the balloon of Boyhood all the unstained purity of Youth he seemed little more than a lad of 20 Summers hardly older if older indeed at all sister had been imparted so many years ago it was obvious that this was not the man who had destroyed her life he loosened his hold and reeled back my God my God he cried I would have murdered you Dorian Gray drew a long breath you have been on the brink of committing a terrible crime my man he said looking at him Stanley let this be a warning to you not to take Vengeance into your own hands forgive me Sam utter James vane I was deceived a chance word I heard in that damn Den set me on the wrong trap you had better go home and put that pistol away or you may get into trouble said Dorian turning on his heel going slowly down the street James vane stood on the pavement in horror he was trembling from head to foot after a little while a black shadow that had been creeping along the dripping wall moved into the light and came close to him with stealthy footsteps felt a hand laid on his arm and looked round with a start it was one of the women who had been drinking at the bar why didn't you kill him she hissed putting Haggard face quite close to his I knew you were following him and you rushed out from dailies you fool you should have killed him he has lots of money and he's as bad as bad he's not the man I'm looking for I don't want no man's money I want a man's life the man whose life I want must be nearly 40 now this one is a little more than a boy God I have not got his blood upon my hands the woman gave a bit a laugh little more than a boy she sneered why man it's nigh on 18 years since Prince Charming made me who I am you lie cried James Bane she raised her hand up to heaven before God I am telling the truth she cried before God strike me dumb if it ain't so he's the worst one that comes here they say he sold himself to the devil for a pretty face it's nigh on 18 years since I met him he hasn't changed much since then I have though she added with a sickly there swear this I swear it came in a horse Echo from her flat mouth don't give me away to him she whined I am afraid of him let me have some money for my Knights lodging he broke from her with an oath and rushed to the corner of the street Dorian Gray had disappeared back the woman had chapter 17. a week later Dorian Gray was sitting in the conservatory at Selby Royal talking to the pretty Duchess of Monmouth who with her husband a jaded looking man of sixty was amongst his guests it was tea time and the Mellow light of the huge lace-covered lamp that stood on the table lit up all the Delicate China and hammered silver of the service at which the duchess was presiding her white hands were moving daintily among the cups her full red lips were smiling at something that Dorian had whispered to her Lord Henry was lying back in a silk draped wicker chair looking at them on a peach-colored Divan sat lady nabra pretending to listen to The Deep of the last Brazilian Beetle that he had added to his collection three young men in elaborate smoking suits were handing tea cakes to some of the women the house party consisted of 12 people there were more expected to arrive the next day what are you talking about said Lord Henry strolling over to the table and putting his cup down I hope Dorian has told you about my plan for re-christening everything Gladys it is a delightful idea but I don't want to be re-christened Harry rejoined The Duchess the wonderful eyes I'm quite satisfied with my own name and I'm sure Mr Gray should be satisfied with his my dear Gladys I would not alter e the name for the world they are both perfect I was thinking chiefly of flowers yesterday I cut an orchid for my buttonhole it was a marvelous spotted thing as effective as these seven deadly sins in a thoughtless moment I asked one of the gardeners what it was called he told me it was a fine specimen of Robin's soniana or something Dreadful of that kind it is a sad truth that we have lost the faculty of giving lovely names to things names are everything I never quarrel with actions my one quarrel is with words that is the reason that I hate vulgar realism in literature the man who could call this spade a spade should be compelled to use one it is the only thing he is fit for then what should we call you Harry she asked his name is Prince Paradox said Dorian I recognize him in a Flash exclaimed The Duchess I won't hear of it laugh Lord Henry sinking into a into it from a label There Is No Escape I refuse the title royalties may not abdicate fail as a warning from pretty lips you wish to defend my Throne then yes I give the truths of tomorrow I prefer the mistakes of today she answered you disarm me that is he cried catching the willfulness of her mood of your Shield Harry not of your spear I never tilt against Beauty he said with a wave of his hand that's your error Harry believe me you Value Beauty far too much how can you say that I admit that I think it is better to be beautiful than to be good but on the other hand no one is more ready than I am to acknowledge that it is better to be good than to be ugly ugliness is one of the seven deadly sins then cried the duchess What Becomes of your simile about the Orchid ugliness is one of the seven deadly virtuous Gladys you is a good Tory you must not underrate them fear the Bible and the seven deadly virtues have made are England watches you don't like your country then she asked I live in it that you may censor it the better would you have me take the verdict of Europe on it he inquired what do they say of us that tartar has immigrated to England and opened a shop is that yours Harry I give it to you I could not use it it's too true you need not be afraid our countrymen never recognize a description they're practical they're more cunning than practical when they make up their Ledger they balance stupidity by wealth and vice by hypocrisy still we have done great things great things have been thrust Upon Us Gladys we've carried their burden only as far as the stock exchange she shook her head I believe in the race she cried it represents the survival of the pushing it has development K fascinates me more what about she asked it is a melody love an illusion religion the fashionable substitute for belief you're a skeptic never skepticism is the beginning of faith what are you to Define is to limit give me a clue threads snap you would lose your way in The Labyrinth you bewilder me let us talk with someone else our host is a delightful topic years ago he was christened Prince Charming oh don't remind me of that cried Dorian Gray our host is rather horrid this evening answered the duchess I believe he thinks that Monmouth married me on Purely scientific principles as the best specimen he could find of a modern butterfly well I hope you won't stick pins into you Duchess laugh Dorian now my maid does that already Mr Gray when she's annoyed with me and what does she get annoyed with you about duchess for the most trivial things Mr Gray I assure you usually because I come in 10 minutes tonight and tell her I must be dressed by half past eight how unreasonable of her you should give her a warning Dent Mr Gray she invents hats for me you remember the one I wore at lady hillstone's Garden Party you don't but it is nice of you to pretend that you do well she made it out of nothing all good hats are made out of nothing like all good reputations Gladys interrupted Lord Henry every effect that one produces gives one an enemy to be popular one must be mediocrity not with women said the Dutchess shaking her head and women rule the world I assure you we can't bear mediocrities we women as someone says love with our ears just as human love with your eyes if you ever love at all seems to me that you never do anything else mandatorian ah then you never really love Mr Gray answered The Duchess with it mock sadness my dear Gladys cried Lord Henry how can you say that romance lives by repetition then repetition converts an appetite into an art each time that one loves is the only time one has ever loved difference of objects does not alter singleness of passion it merely intensifies it we can have in life but one great experience at best in the secret of life is to reproduce that experiences often as possible even when one has been wounded by it Harry asked The Duchess after a pause especially when one has been wounded by it answered Lord Henry The Duchess turned and looked at Dorian Gray with a curious expression in her eyes what do you say to that Mr Gray she inquired Dorian hesitated for a moment he threw his head back and laughed I always agree with Harry duchess even when he's wrong Harry is never wrong Duchess and does his philosophy make you happy I would never searched for happiness who wants happiness I've searched for pleasure and found it Mr Gray often too often The Duchess side I'm searching for peace she said don't go and dress I shall have none this evening let me get you some orchids Duchess great Dorian starting with his feet and walking down the conservatory you are flirting disgracefully with him said Lord Henry to his cousin you better take care he's very fascinating if you were not there would be no battle Greek meets Greek then I am on the side of the Trojans they've they've they were defeated there are worse things than capture she answered you gather with a loose rain Pace gives life was the repost I shall write it in my diary tonight what a burnt child loves the fire I'm not even singed my wings are untouched you use them for everything except fight courage has passed from men to women it's a new experience for us you have a rival who he laughed Opera he whispered but she perfectly adores him you fill me with apprehension the appeal to Antiquity is fatal to us who are romanticists romanticists you have all the methods of science men have educated us but not explained to you describe us as a sex was her challenge Sphinx is without secrets she looked at him smiling how long Mr Gray as she said let us come and help him I've not yet told him the color of my frock ah you must suit your frock to his flowers Gladys that would be a premature of surrender romantic art begins with its climax I must keep an opportunity for retreat in the parthian manner they found safety in the desert I could not do that women are not always allowed a choice he answered but hardly had he finished the sentence before from the far end the conservatory came a stifled groan followed by the dull sound of a heavy fall everybody started up The Duchess stood Motionless In horror and with fear in his eyes Lord Henry rushed through the flapping ponds to find Dorian Gray ing face downwards on the tiled floor in a death-like swim he was carried at once Into the Blue drawing room and laid upon one of the sofas after a short time he came to himself and looked round with a dazed expression what has happened he asked oh I remember am I safe here Harry he began to tremble my deodorian on support Henry you merely fainted that was all you must have over tired yourself it better not come down to dinner I will take your place no I will come down he said struggling to his feet I would rather come down I must not be alone he went to his room and dressed there was a wild recklessness of gaiety in his manner as he sat at the table but now and then the thrill of Terror ran through him when he remembered that pressed against the window of the conservatory like a white handkerchief he had seen the face of James vane watching him chapter 18. the next day he did not leave the house and indeed spent most of the time in his own room sick over the wild Terror of dying and yet indifferent to life itself the consciousness of being hunted snared tracked down and began to dominate him if the tapestry did but tremble in the wind he shook the Dead Leaves that were blown against the leaded pains seemed to him like his own wasted resolutions and wild regrets when he closed his eyes he sore again sailor's face peering through missed stained glass horror seemed once more to lay his hand upon his heart perhaps it had been only his fancy that had called Vengeance out of the night and set hideous shapes of punishment before him actual life was chaos but there was something terribly logical in the imagination it was the imagination that set remorse to dog the feet of sin it was the imagination that made each crime bear its misshapen brood in the common world of fact the wicked were not punished nor the good rewarded success was given to the strong failure thrust upon the weak that was all besides had any stranger been prowling around the house he would have been seen by the servants or the keepers had any foot marks been found on the fellow beds the gardeners would have reported it sybilvane's brother had not come back to kill him he had sailed away in his ship to founder in some winter Sea from him at any rate he was safe the man did not know who he was could not know who he was the mask of Youth had saved him and yet if it had been merely an illusion terrible it was to think that conscience could raise such fearful Phantoms give them visible form make them move before one what sort of life would this be if day and night Shadows of his crime were to appear in him from Silent Corners to mock him from secret places to whisper in his ear as he sat at the feast to wake him with icy fingers as he lay asleep as the thought crept through his brain he grew pale with Terror the air seemed to him to have become suddenly colder in what a wild hour of madness he had killed his friend of ghastly the mere memory of the scene he saw it all again each hideous detail came back to him with added horror out of the black cave of time terrible and swathed and Scarlet throws the image of his sin and Lord Henry came in at 6 he found him crying as one whose heart will break it was not till the third day that he ventured to go out there was something in the in the clear pine scented air of that winter morning that seemed to bring him back his joyousness his order for life but it was not merely the physical conditions of environment that had caused the change his own nature had revolted against the excess of Anguish that had sought to maim and Ma the Perfection of its calm with subtle and finely brought temperaments is always so their strong passions must either bruise or bend they either slay the man or themselves die shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on the loves and Sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plentitude besides he had convinced himself that he had been the victim of a terrorist-stricken imagination those back now back now fears with something of pity and not a little of contempt after breakfast he walked with the duchess for an hour in the garden drove up to join the shooting party the crisp Frost they like salt upon the grass Skye was an inverted cup of blue metal thin film of ice ordered the flat Reed Crown Lake at the corner of the pine wood he called sight of Sir Jeffrey clouston the duchess's brother jerking two spent cartridges out of his gun he jumped from the car having told the groom to take the mayor home he made his way towards his guest through the withered Bracken and the rough undergrowth have you had good sport Jeffrey he asked not very good Dorian I think most of the birds have gone to the open I dare say it'll be better after lunch for me get to New ground Dorian strolled Along by his side Keen aromatic air the brown and red lights that glimmered in the wood the horse cries of the beaters ringing out from time to time the sharp snaps of the guns that followed fascinated him filled him with a sense of delightful freedom he was dominated by the carelessness of Happiness by the high indifference of Joy suddenly from a lumpy tussock of old grass some 20 yards in front of him with black tipped ears erect and long hinder limbs Throwing It Forward started a hair it bolted for a Thicket of orders Sir Jeffrey put his gun to his shoulder but there was something in the animal's Grace of movement that strange charms Dorian Gray he cried out at once don't shoot it Jeffrey let it live what nonsense historian marked His companion as the hair bounded into the thicket fired there were two cries heard The Cry of a hair in pain which is Dreadful The Cry of a man in agony which is worse or the heavens I have hit a beta exclaimed Sir Jeffrey what an ass the man was to get in front of the guns stop shooting there he called out to the top of his voice a man is hurt the head keeper came running up with a stick in his hand where sir where is he he shouted at the same time the firing ceased all along the line here answered Sir Jeffrey angrily hurrying towards the thicket why on Earth don't you keep your men back spoiled my shooting for the day Dorian watches them as they put into the older older brushing the lights side in a few moments they emerged dragging the body after them into sunlight he turned away in horror it seemed to him Fortune followed wherever he went he heard Sir Jeffrey ask if the man was really dead the affirmative answer of the keeper the wood seemed to him to become suddenly alive with faces there was the trampling of myriad feet and the low Buzz of voices rested pheasant came beating beating through the bowels and after a few moments that were to him in his perturbed States like endless hours of pain he felt a hand laid on his shoulder he started and looked round Dorian said Lord Henry I'd better tell them the shooting has stopped for today it would not look well to go on I wish it was stopped forever Harry the whole thing is hideous and cruel is the man he could not finish the sentence great son for joining Lord Henry he got the whole charge of shot in his chest he must have died almost instantaneously let's go home they walked side by side in the direction of the Avenue with nearly 50 yards without speaking Dorian looked at Lord Henry and said with a heavy sight it's about Herman Harry a very bad omen what is Arsenal asked oh this accident I suppose my dear fellow it can't be helped it was the man's own fault why did he get in front of the guns besides it's nothing to us it's rather awkward for Jeffrey of course does not do to Peppa beaters makes people think that one's a mild shot Jeffrey's not not it's very straight but there is no use talking about the matter Dorian shook his head it is a bad Omen Harry I feel as if something horrible were going to happen to some of us self perhaps he passed his hand over his eyes with a gesture of pain the elder man laughed the only horrible thing in the world is on weed or in that is the one sin for which there is no forgiveness but we are not likely to suffer from it unless these fellows keep chattering about this thing at dinner I must tell them the subject is to be tabooed as for Omens there's no such thing as a Norman Destiny does not send us Heralds she's far too wise or too cruel for that besides what on Earth could happen to you Dorian you will have everything in the world that a man can want there is no one who would not be delighted to change places with you there's no one with whom I would not change places Harry don't laugh like that I'm telling you the truth The Wretched peasant who's just died it's better off than I am I have no Terror of death coming of death that terrifies me it's monstrous Wings seem to wheel in the lead and air around me good heavens see a man moving behind the trees there watching me waiting for me Lord Henry looked in the direction in which the trembling gloved hand was pointing yes he said smiling I see the gardener waiting for you I suppose he wants to ask you what flowers you wish to have on the table tonight sadly nervous you are my dear fellow you must come and see my doctor when we get back to town Dorian heave to sigh of relief as he saw the gardener approaching the man touched his hat glanced for a moment at Lord Henry in a hesitating manner and then produced a letter which he handed to his master her grace told me to wait for an answer he Muhammad Dorian put the letter into his pocket tell her grace that I'm coming in he said coldly the man turned round and went rapidly in the direction of the house how fond women are of doing dangerous things laughed Lord Henry it's one of the qualities in them that I admire most a woman will flirt with anybody in the world as long as other people are looking how fond you are of saying dangerous things Harry in the present instance you are quite astray I like The Duchess very much but I don't love her and The Duchess loves you very much but she but she likes you less so you're excellently matched you're talking Scandal Harry and there is never any basis for Scandal the basis of every Scandal is an immoral certainty said Lord Henry lighting a cigarette you would sacrifice anybody Harry for the sake of an epigram the world goes to the altar of its own accord was the answer I wish I could love cried Dorian the deep note of Pathos in his voice I seem to have lost the passion forgotten the desire I'm too much concentrated on myself my own personalities become a burden to me I want to escape to go away to forget silly of me to come down here at all I think I shall send a wire to Harvey have the yacht got ready on a yacht One Is Safe from what Dorian you are in some trouble why not tell me what it is you know I would help can't tell you Harry I dare say it's only a fancy of mine this unfortunate accident has upset me I have a horrible pre-sentiment that something of the kind may happen to me nonsense I hope it is but I can't help feeling it ah here is The Duchess looking like Artemis imitate the maid gown you see we have come back duchess I've heard all about it Mr Gray she answered poor Jeffrey's terribly upset it seems that you asked him not to shoot the hair curious yes it was very curious I don't know what made me say it somewhere I suppose it looked the loveliest of little things but I'm sorry that they told you about the man it's a hideous subject it's an annoying subject broken Lord Henry has no psychological value at all now fdfri had done the thing on purpose how interesting that would be I should like to know someone who had committed a real murder how horrid of you Harry cried The Duchess isn't it Mr Gray Harry Mr Gray's ill again he's going to faint Dorian Drew himself up with an effort and smiled nothing touches he murmured my nerves are dreadfully out of order that's all I'm afraid I walked too far this morning I I didn't hear what Harry said was it very bad you must tell me some other time I think I must go and lie down uh you will excuse me right yeah they had reached the great flight of steps that led from the conservatory onto the Terrace there's the glass door closed behind Dorian Lord Henry turned and looked at The Duchess with his slumberer's eyes are you very much in love with him he asked she did not answer for some time but stood gazing at the land I wish I knew she said at last he shook his head knowledge would be fatal it is the uncertainty that charms won a Mist makes things wonderful one may lose one's way always end at the same point my dear Gladys is that disillusion it was my debut in life she said it came to your crown I'm tired of strawberry leaves they've become you I'm the in public you would miss them I will not part with a petal Monmouth his ears old age is dull of hearing because he never been jealous but she had been he glanced about as if in search of something what are you looking for she inquired the button from your foil the answer you've dropped it she laughed I have still the mask it makes your eyes Lovelier was his reply she laughed again showed like white seeds in a Scarlet fruit upstairs in his own room Dorian Gray was lying on a sofa with Terror in every tingling fiber of his body life had suddenly become too hideous a burden for him to bear the Dreadful death of The Unlucky beater shot in the thicket like a wild animal had seemed to him to prefigure death for himself also he had nearly swooned at what Lord Henry had said in a in his mood of cynical jesting at five o'clock he rang his Bell for his servant and gave him orders to pack his things for the night to express to town to have the broom at the door by 8 30. he was determined not to sleep another night at Selby Royal it was an ill moment place death walked the grass of the forest had been spotted with blood then he wrote a note to Lord Henry telling him he was going to town to consult his doctor asking him to entertain his guests to his absence as he was putting it into the envelope a knock came at the door his valet informed him that the head keeper wished to see him he frowned and bit his lip send him in he muttered a moment's hesitation as soon as the man entered Dorian pulled his checkbook out of a drawer and spread it out before him I suppose you've come about the unfortunate accident of this morning Thornton he took up a pen yes sir answered the gamekeeper was the poor fellow married people dependent on him masterion looking bored if so I should not like them to be left in want I will send any sum of money that you may think necessary we don't know who he is Sir this is what I took the liberty of coming to you about don't know who he is said Dorian mrsley what do you mean only one of your men no sir never saw him before seems like a sailor sir the pen dropped from Dorian Gray's hand he felt as if his heart it suddenly stopped beating a sailor he cried out did you say a sailor yes sir he looks as if he'd been a sort of Sailor tattooed on both arms that kind of thing was there anything found on him said Dorian leaning forward and looking at the man with startled eyes anything that would tell his name the money sir not much and a sick shooter no name of any kind decent looking man sir but rough like a sort of Sailor we think Dorian started to his feet the terrible hope that had passed him he clutched at it madly where is the body he exclaimed quick I must see it at once it's in an empty stable in the home farm so the folk don't like to have that sort of thing in their houses they say a corpse brings bad luck the home Farm go there at once and meet me tell one of the Grooms to bring my horse around no never mind I'll go to the Stables myself it'll save time in less than a quarter of an hour Dorian Gray was Galloping Down The Long Avenue as hard as he could go the trees seem to sweep past him and spectral procession wild Shadows to fling themselves across his path once the mayor swerved and the White gate posted and he threw him he lashed her across the neck with his crop she cleft the duskier like an arrow the stones flew from her hoofs at last he reached the home Farm two men were loitering in the yard he leapt from the saddle and threw the reins to one of them in the farthest stable a light was glimmering something seemed to tell him the body was there he hurried to the door put his hand upon the latch there he paused for a moment feeling he was on the brink for discovery that would either make or ma his life thrust the door open and entered on a heap of sacking in the far Corner was lying the dead body of a man dressed in a coarse shirt and a pair of blue trousers a spotted handkerchief had been placed over the face a coarse candle stuck in a bottle sputtered beside it Dorian Gray shudded he felt that his could not be the hand to take the handkerchief away and called out to one of the farm servants to come to him take that thing off his face I wish to see it he said clutching at the doorpost for support when the farm servant had done so he stepped forward Cry Of Joy broke from his lips the man who had been shot in the thicket was James vane he stood there for some minutes looking at the dead body as he rode home his eyes were full of tears for he knew he was safe there is no use in your telling me that you're going to be good cried Lord Henry dipping his white fingers into a red copper bowl filled filled with rose water you are quite perfect pray don't change Dorian Gray shook his head no Harry I have done too many Dreadful things in my life I'm not going to do any more I began my good actions yesterday where were you yesterday in the country Harry I was staying at a little Inn by myself my dear boy except Lord Henry smiling anybody can be good in the country there are no temptations there that is the reason why people who live out of town are so absolutely uncivilized civilization is not by any means an easy thing to attain to there are only two ways by which man can reach it one is by being cultured the other by being corrupt country people have no opportunity of being either so they stagnate culture and Corruption Echo Dorian I have known something of both it seems terrible to me now that they should ever be found together for I have a new idea Harry I'm going to alter I think I have altered you have not yet told me what your good action was or did you say you had done more than one asked His companion as he spilled into his plate a little Crimson pyramid of seeded strawberries through a perforated shell-shaped spoon snowed white sugar upon them I can tell you Harry it is not a story I could tell to anyone else I spared somebody sounds vain but you understand what I mean she was quite beautiful and wonderfully like civil vain I think it was that which first attracted me to her you remember Sybil Don't You how long ago that seems well Hetty was not one of our own class of course she was simply only loved her I'm quite sure that I loved her ordering this wonderful May that we've been having I used to run down and see her two or three times a week yesterday she met me in a little Orchard the apple blossoms kept tumbling down on her hair and she was laughing we were to have gone away together this morning at dawn suddenly I determined to leave her as flower-like as I had found out I should think the novelty of the emotion must have given you a thrill of real pleasure Dorian in but I can finish your idol for you you gave her good advice and broke her heart that was the beginning of your Reformation Harry you are horrible you mustn't say these Dreadful things hetty's heart is not broken of course she cried and all that but there is no disgrace upon her if you can live like pedita in her garden of mint and marigold and weep over a faithless florazole said Lord Henry laughing as he leaned back in his chair my dear Dorian you have the most curiously boyish moods do you think this girl will ever be really content now with anyone of her own rank I suppose she'll be married someday to a rough Carter or a grinning Plowman fact of having met you and loved you will teach her to despise her husband she will be wretched from a moral point of view I cannot say that I think much of your great renunciation evil is a beginning it is poor nights how do you know that Hetty isn't floating at the present moment in some Starlet Mill Pond with a lovely water lilies around her leg Ophelia I can't bear this Harry you mock at everything and then suggests the most serious tragedies I'm sorry I told you now I don't care what you say to me I know that I was right in acting as I did variety was I rode past the farm this morning I saw her white face at the window like a spray of Jasmine and don't try to persuade me that the first good action that I have done for years first little bit of self-sacrifice I have ever known is really a sort of sin I want to be better I'm going to be better tell me something about yourself what's going on in town I've not been at the club for days the people are still discussing Paul Basil's disappearance thought they would have got tired of that by this time said Dorian pouring himself some wine and frowning slightly again boy they've only been talking about it for six weeks the British public are really not equal to the mental strain of having more than one topic every three months they've been very fortunate lately however they've had my own divorce case Alan Campbell's suicide now they've got the mysterious disappearance of an artist Scotland yards still insists that the man in the great Ulster who left for Paris By the midnight train on the 9th of November was sport battle and the French police declare that basil never arrived in Paris at all I suppose in about a fortnight we shall be told he's been seen in San Francisco it is an old thing but everyone who disappears is said to be seen at San Francisco must be a delightful City and possess all the attractions of the next world what do you think's happened to Basil ask Dorian holding up his burgundy against the light wondering how it was that he could discuss the matter so calmly the slightest idea if basil chooses to hide himself it's no business of mine dead I don't want to think about him death is the only thing that ever terrifies me I hate it why said the younger man wearily because said Lord Henry passing beneath his nostrils the guilt trellis of an open vinaigrette box one can survive everything nowadays except that death and vulgarity are the only two facts in the 19th century that one cannot explain away let us have our coffee in the music from Dorian you must play Chopin to me the man with whom my wife ran away played Chopin exquisitely poor Victoria I was very fond of her the house is rather lonely without her of course married life is merely a habit a bad habit but then one regrets the loss the evil of one's worst habits perhaps one regrets them the most it's an essential part of one's personality Dorian said nothing but Rose from the table passing into the Next Room sat down to the piano and let his fingers stray across the white and Black Ivory of the keys after the coffee had been brought in looking over at Lord Henry said Harry did it ever occur to you that basil was murdered Lord Henry yawned basil was very popular and always wore a Waterbury watch why should he have been murdered he was not clever enough to have enemies of course he had a wonderful genius for painting but a man couldn't paint like Velasquez and he had to be as dull as possible was really rather dull he only interested me once and that was when he told me years ago that he had he had wild at her adoration for you and that you were the dominant motive for his art it was very fond of Basil said Dorian with the note of sadness in his voice but don't people say he was murdered oh some of the papers do does not seem to me to be all that probable I know there are Dreadful places in Paris but basil was not the sort of man to have gone to them he had no curiosity was his chief defect what would you say Harry if I told you that I had murdered basil said the younger man he watched him intently after he had spoken I would say my dear fella that you were posing for a character that doesn't suit you all crime is vulgar just as all vulgarity is crime in the eudorian to commit a murder sorry if I heard your vanity by saying so but I assure you it is true crime belongs exclusively to the level orders I don't blame them in the smallest degree I should fancy that crime was to them what art is to us simply a method of procuring extraordinary Sensations a method of procuring Sensations do you think then that a man who once committed a murder could possibly do the same crime again oh anything becomes a pleasure if one does it too often Cry of Lord Henry laughing that is one of the most important secrets of life I should fancy however that murder is always a mistake one should never do anything that one cannot talk about after dinner but let us pass from Paul basil I wish I could believe he had come to such a really romantic end as you suggest but I can't I dare say he fell into the sign or of an Omnibus and that the conductor hushed up the Scandal yes I should fancy that was his end I see him lying now on his back under dull green waters heavy barges floating over him and long weeds catching in his hair do you know I don't think he would have done much more good work during the last 10 years his painting had gone off very much Dorian healed the sign Lord Henry strolled across the room and began to stroke the head of a curious Java parrot a large gray plimaged bird with pink Crest and tail that was balancing itself upon a bamboo perch as his pointed fingers touched him it dropped the white scarf of crinkled Lids over black glass and began to sway once and forwards yes he continued turning round and taking his handkerchief out of his pocket his painting had gone quite off it seemed to me to have lost something it had lost an ideal when you and he cease to be great friends he ceased to be a great artist what was that separated you I suppose he bored you if so he never forgave you sir habit balls have by the way what's become of that wonderful portrait he did of you I don't think I've ever seen it since he finished it oh I remember you were telling me years ago you sent it down to Selby and it got mislaid or stolen you never got it back what a pity was really a masterpiece I remember I wanted to buy it wish I had now belong to Basil's best period since then his work was that curious mixture of bad painting and good intentions that always entitles a man to be called a representative British Artist did you advertise for it you should I forget said Dorian I suppose I did but I never really liked it sorry I sat for it memory of the thing is hateful to me why do you talk of it used to remind me of those curious lines in some play Hamlet I think how do they run like the painting of a sorrow face without a heart yes that's what it was like Lord Henry laughed if a man treats life artistically his brain is his heart he answered sinking into an armchair Dorian Gray shook his head and struck some soft chords on the piano like the painting of a sorrow he repeated face without a heart the elder man lay back and looked at him with half close eyes by the way Dorian what does it profit a man if he gained the whole world and lose how does the quotation run his own soul the music Jarred and Dorian Gray started and stared at his friend why do you ask me that Harry my dear fella said Lord Henry elevating his eyebrows in Surprise I asked you because I thought you might be able to give me an answer that's all I was going through the park last Sunday and close by the marble large there stood a little crowd of shabby looking people listening to some vulgar Street Preacher as I passed by I heard the man yelling out that question to his audience it struck me as being rather dramatic London is very rich and curious effects of that kind a wet Sunday an uncouth Christian in a Macintosh a ring of sickly white faces under a broken roof of drooping umbrellas a wonderful phrase flung into the air by shrill hysterical lips it was really very good in its way quite a suggestion I thought of telling the prophet that art had a soul but that man had not I'm afraid however he would not have understood me don't Harry the soul is a terrible reality it can be bought and sold and parted away it can be poisoned or me perfect there is a soul each one of us I know it do you feel quite sure of that Dorian quite sure ah that it must be an illusion the things one feels absolutely certain about and never true that is the fatality of faith and the lesson of romance how grave you are don't be so serious what if you or I to do with the superstitions of our age no we've given up our belief in the soul play me something play me a Nocturne Dorian as you play tell me in a little voice how you've kept your youth have some Secret I'm only 10 years older than you are and I am wrinkled and worn in yellow you are really wonderful Lauren you have never looked more Charming than you do tonight you remind me of the day that I saw you first you were cheeky very shy and absolutely extraordinary you've changed of course but not in appearance I wish you would tell me your secret to get back my youth I would do anything in the wild except take up exercise get up early or be respectable nothing like it it's absurd to talk of the ignorance of Youth the only people whose opinions I listen now with any respect are people much younger than myself they seem in front of me life is reveals to them her latest Wonder as for the Aged I always contradict the Aged I do it on principle if you ask them their opinion on something that happened yesterday they solemnly give you the opinions current in 1820. more High stocks stocks believed in everything a new absolutely nothing how lovely that thing you were playing is I wondered if Chopin write it at Mallorca with the sea weeping round the villa the salt spray dashing against the panes it is marvelously romantic what a blessing it is that there is one art left to us that is not imitative don't stop I want music tonight it seems to me you're the young Apollo and I am marcius listening to you have Sorrows Dorian of my own even the you th the tragedy of old age is not that one is old but one is Young I'm amazed sometimes at my own sincerity Dorian how happy you are what an Exquisite life you've had you have drunk deeply of everything you have crushed The Grapes against your palate nothing has been hidden from you and it has all been to you no more than The Sound of Music it is not marred here you're still the same I am not the same Harry yes you are the same I wonder what the rest of your life will be don't spoil it by renunciations if present you are a perfect type don't make yourself incomplete you are quite Flawless now you need not shake your head you know you are besides Dorian don't deceive yourself life is not governed by will or intention life is a question of nerves and fibers and slowly build up cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams you may fancy yourself safe think Yourself Strong but a chance tone of coloring a room or a morning skyer particular perfume that you had once loved that brings subtle memories with it a line from a forgotten poem that you would come across again a Cadence from a piece of music you had ceased to play I tell you Dorian that it is on things like these that our lives depend Browning writes about that somewhere about our own senses will imagine them for us there are moments when the odor of lillis Blanc passes suddenly across me I have to live the strangest month of my life over again I wish I could change places with you Dorian the world has cried out against us both but it has always worshiped you it always will worship you you are the type of what the age is searching for afraid it is found I'm so glad you've never done anything never carved a statue painted a picture produced anything outside of yourself life has been your heart you have set yourself to music your days are your silence Dorian rose up from the piano and passed his hand through his hair yes life has been Exquisite he murmured but I'm not going to have the same life Harry and you must not say these extravagant things to me you don't know everything about me I think if you did even you return from me you've laughed don't laugh why have you stopped playing Dorian go back and give me the knock turnover again look at that great honey colored Moon that hangs in the Dusky air she is waiting for you to charm her if you play she will come closer to the Earth you won't let us go to the club then it's been a Charming evening we must end it charmingly there is somewhat at whites who wants immensely to know you young Lord Poole Bournemouth eldest son he's already copied your neckties and begged me to introduce him to you it's quite delightful and rather reminds me of you sad luck in his eyes I'm tired tonight Harry I can't go to the club in it's nearly 11 and I want to go to bed early do stay you've never played so well as tonight there was something in your touch that was wonderful it had more expression than I'd ever heard from it before because I'm going to be good he answered smiling I'm a little changed already you cannot change to me Dorian you and I will always be friends yet you poisoned me with a look once I should not forgive that Harry promise me you will never lend that book to anyone does harm my dear boy you are really beginning to moralize you will soon be going about like the converted and the revivalist warning people against all the sins of which you have grown tired you are much too delightful to do that besides it is no use you and I are what we are and will be what we will be as for being poisoned by a book there is no such thing as art has no influence upon actions it annihilates the desire to act it is superbly sterile the books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame that is all that we won't discuss literature come round tomorrow I'm going to ride at 11. we might go together and I will take you to lunch afterwards with Lady Branson she is she and wants to consult you about some tapestries she's thinking of buying mind you can't more shall we lunch with our little duchess he says she never sees you now perhaps you're tired of Gladys I thought you would be her clever tongue gets on one's nerves well in any case be here at 11 . must I really come Harry certainly the park is quite lovely now I don't think there have been such lilacs since the year I met you very well I shall be here at 11 said Dorian my Harry as he reached the door he hesitated for a moment as if he had something more to say then he sighed and went down chapter 20. it was a lovely night so warm through his coat over his arm and did not even put his silk scarf around his throat as he strolled home smoking his cigarette two young men in evening dress past him heard one of them whisper to the other that is Dorian Gray he remembered how pleased he used to be when he was pointed out or stared at or talked about is tired of hearing his own name now half the charm of the little village where he had been so often lately was that no one knew who he was he had often told the girl whom he had lured to love him that he was poor she had believed him he had told her once that he was wicked she laughed at him and answered the wicked people were always very old and very ugly what a laugh she had like a thrush singing how pretty she had been in her cotton dresses and her large hats she knew nothing but she had everything that he had lost when he reached home he found his servant waiting up for him sent him to bed threw himself down on the sofa in the library and began to think of some of the things that Lord Henry had said to him was it really true that one could never change he felt a wild longing for the unstained purity of his Boyhood his Rose white Boyhood as Lord Henry had once called her he knew he had tarnished himself filled his mind with corruption given horror to his fancy he had been an evil influence to others that of the lives that had crossed his own had been the fairest the most full of promise that he had brought to shame or was it all irretrievable was there no hope for him in what a monstrous moment of Pride and passion he had prayed that the portrait should bear the burden of his days and he keep the unsullied Splendor of a tongue all his failure had been due to that better for him that each sin of his life had brought it sure Swift penalty along with it there was purification and Punishment not forgive us our sins but Smite us for our iniquities should be the prayer of man to a most just God the curiously carved mirror that Lord Henry had given to him so many years ago now was standing on the table the white limbed Cupids laughed rounded as of old he took it up as he had done on the night of horror when he first noticed the change in the Fatal picture and with wild tear dimmed eyes looked into its polished shield once someone who had terribly loved him had written to him a mad letter ending with those idolatrous words the world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold the curves of your lips rewrite history the phrases came back to his memory and he repeated them over and over to himself then he loathed his own Beauty and flinging the mirror on the floor crashed it into silver splinters beneath his heel it was his beauty that ruined him it's Beauty and the youth that he had prayed for but for those two things his life might have been free from staying his Beauty had been to him for the mask his youth but a mockery what was youth at best a green and unripe time a time of shallow moods and sickly thoughts why had he worn its livery youth had spoiled him it was better not to think of the past think at all to that it was of himself and of his own future they had to think of James vane was hidden in a nameless grave in a Selby churchyard Alan Campbell had shot himself One Night in his laboratory but had not revealed the secret that he had been forced to know the excitement such as it was over basil hallwood's disappearance would soon pass away it was already waning he was perfectly safe there nor indeed was it the death of Basil hallwood that weighed most upon his mind it was the living death of his own soul that troubled him basil had painted the portrait that had marred his life he could not forgive him there it was the portrait that had done everything basil had said things to him that were unbearable and that he had yet born with patience the murder had been simply The Madness of a moment as for Alan Campbell his suicide had been his own act he had chosen to do it it was nothing to him a new life that was what he wanted that was what he was waiting for surely it had begun already he had spared one innocent thing at any rate he would never again tempt innocence he would be good as he thought of Hedy Martin he began to wonder if the portrait in the locked room had changed surely it was not still so horrible as it had been perhaps if his life became pure he would be able to expel every sign of evil passion from the face perhaps the signs of evil had already gone away he would go and look he took the lamp from the table and crept upstairs as he unbarred the door a smile of joy flitted across his strangely young looking face and lingered from a remote yes he would be good and the Hideous thing that he had hidden away would no longer be a tear at him felt as if the load had been lifted from him already he went in quietly locking the door behind him as was his custom and dragged the purple hanging from the portrait Cry of pain and indignation broke from him see no change save that in the eyes there was a look of cunning and in the mouth the curved wrinkle of the hypocrite the thing was still loathsome more loathsome if possible than before Scarlett you that spotted the hand seemed brighter and more like blood newly spilled trembled had it been merely vanity that had made him do this one good deed the desire for a New Sensation as Lord Henry had hinted with his mocking laugh all the passion to act apart that sometimes makes us do things finer than we are ourselves or perhaps all of these why was the red s that had been it seemed to have crept like a horrible disease over the wrinkled fingers there was blood on the painted feet as though the thing had dripped blood even on the hand that had not held the knife confess did it mean that he was to confess give himself up he put to death he laughed he felt that the idea was monstrous besides even if he did confess he would believe him there was no trace of the murdered man anywhere everything belonging to him had been destroyed he had burned what had been below stairs the world would simply say he was mad they would shut him up if he persisted in this story yet it was his duty to confess to suffer public shame to make public atonement there was a God who called upon man to tell their sins to Earth as well as to heaven nothing that he could do would cleanse him till he had told his own sin his sin Shrugged his shoulders the death of mazel Hall and seemed very little to him he was thinking of Hetty Martin for it was an unjust mirror the mirror of his soul that he was looking at vanity curiosity hypocrisy had there been nothing more in his renunciation than that there had been something more at least he thought so but who could tell no there had been nothing more through vanity he had spared her in hypocrisy he had worn the mask of goodness for curiosity's sake he had tried the denial of self he recognized that now but this murder was it to dog him all his life was he always to be burdened by his past was he really to confess never there was only one bit of evidence laughed against him the picture itself that was evidence he would destroy it why had he kept it so long once it had given him pleasure to watch it changing and growing old of late he had felt no such pleasure it had kept him awake at night when he had been away he had been filled with Terror on left on the right look upon it it had brought Melancholy across his passions its mere memory had marred many moments of joy it had been like conscience to him yes it had been conscience he would destroy it he looked round and saw the knife that had stabbed basil hallwood he had cleaned it many times till there was no stain left upon it it was bright and glistened as it had killed the painter so it would kill the painter's work all that that meant it would kill the past and when that was dead he would be free it would kill this monstrous Soul life and without its hideous warnings he would be at peace he seized the thing stamped the picture with him that was a cry herd and a crash cry was so horrible in its Agony that the frightened servants woke and crept out of their rooms Two Gentlemen were passing in the Square below stopped and looked up at the great house they walked on till they met a policeman and brought him back the man rang the bell several times but there was no answer except for a light in one of the top windows the house was all dark after a time he went away and stood in an adjoining Portico and watched whose house is that Constable asks the older of the two gentlemen Mr Dorian Gray sir answered the policeman they looked at each other as they walked away and sneered one of them was Henry Ashton's uncle inside in the servants part of the house the half-clad domestics were talking in low Whispers to each other old Mrs Leaf was crying and wringing her hands Francis was as pale as death after about a quarter of an hour he got The Coachman and one of the footmen and crept upstairs they knocked but there was no reply they called out everything was still finally after vainly trying to force the door they got on the roof and dropped down onto the balcony the windows yielded easily their bolts were old when they entered they found hanging upon the wall a splendid portrait of their Master as they had last seen him in all the Wonder of his Exquisite Youth and beauty lying on the floor was a dead man an evening dress with a knife in his heart he was withered wrinkled and loathsome of Visage it was not until they had examined the Rings that they recognized who it was the book on tonight's episode of down to sleep and on The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde once and for all foreign foreign