CHAPTER I.

pidhavethebestofitinthisworld.Theycansitattheireaseandgapeattheplay.Iftheyknownothingofvictory,theyareatleastsparedtheknowledgeofdefeat.Theyliveasweallshouldlive—undisturbed,indifferent,andwithoutdisquiet.Theyneitherbringruinuponothers,noreverreceiveitfromalienhands.Yourrankandwealth,Harrymybrains,suchastheyare—myart,whateveritmaybeworthDorianGray’sgoodlooks—weshallallsufferforwhatthegodshavegivenus,sufferterribly.” “DorianGray?Isthathisname?”askedLordHenry,walkingacrossthestudiotowardsBasilHallward. “Yes,thatishisname.Ididn’tintendtotellittoyou.” “Butwhynot?” “Oh,Ican’texplain.WhenIlikepeopleimmensely,Inevertelltheirnamestoanyone.Itislikesurrenderingapartofthem.Ihavegrowntolovesecrecy.Itseemstobetheonethingthatcanmakemodernlifemysteriousormarvelloustous.Thecommonestthingisdelightfulifoneonlyhidesit.WhenIleavetownnowInevertellmypeoplewhereIamgoing.IfIdid,Iwouldloseallmypleasure.Itisasillyhabit,Idaresay,butsomehowitseemstobringagreatdealofromanceintoone’slife.Isupposeyouthinkmeawfullyfoolishaboutit?” “Notatall,”answeredLordHenry,“notatall,mydearBasil.YouseemtoforgetthatIammarried,andtheonecharmofmarriageisthatitmakesalifeofdeceptionabsolutelynecessaryforbothparties.Ineverknowwheremywifeis,andmywifeneverknowswhatIamdoing.Whenwemeet—wedomeetoccasionally,whenwedineouttogether,orgodowntotheDuke’s—wetelleachotherthemostabsurdstorieswiththemostseriousfaces.Mywifeisverygoodatit—muchbetter,infact,thanIam.Shenevergetsconfusedoverherdates,andIalwaysdo.Butwhenshedoesfindmeout,shemakesnorowatall.Isometimeswishshewouldbutshemerelylaughsatme.” “Ihatethewayyoutalkaboutyourmarriedlife,Harry,”saidBasilHallward,strollingtowardsthedoorthatledintothegarden.“Ibelievethatyouarereallyaverygoodhusband,butthatyouarethoroughlyashamedofyourownvirtues.Youareanextraordinaryfellow.Youneversayamoralthing,andyouneverdoawrongthing.Yourcynicismissimplyapose.” “Beingnaturalissimplyapose,andthemostirritatingposeIknow,”criedLordHenry,laughingandthetwoyoungmenwentoutintothegardentogetherandensconcedthemselvesonalongbambooseatthatstoodintheshadeofatalllaurelbush.Thesunlightslippedoverthepolishedleaves.Inthegrass,whitedaisiesweretremulous. Afterapause,LordHenrypulledouthiswatch.“IamafraidImustbegoing,Basil,”hemurmured,“andbeforeIgo,IinsistonyouransweringaquestionIputtoyousometimeago.” “Whatisthat?”saidthepainter,keepinghiseyesfixedontheground. “Youknowquitewell.” “Idonot,Harry.” “Well,Iwilltellyouwhatitis.Iwantyoutoexplaintomewhyyouwon’texhibitDorianGray’spicture.Iwanttherealreason.” “Itoldyoutherealreason.” “No,youdidnot.Yousaiditwasbecausetherewastoomuchofyourselfinit.Now,thatischildish.” “Harry,”saidBasilHallward,lookinghimstraightintheface,“everyportraitthatispaintedwithfeelingisaportraitoftheartist,notofthesitter.Thesitterismerelytheaccident,theoccasion.Itisnothewhoisrevealedbythepainteritisratherthepainterwho,onthecolouredcanvas,revealshimself.ThereasonIwillnotexhibitthispictureisthatIamafraidthatIhaveshowninitthesecretofmyownsoul.” LordHenrylaughed.“Andwhatisthat?”heasked. “Iwilltellyou,”saidHallwardbutanexpressionofperplexitycameoverhisface. “Iamallexpectation,Basil,”continuedhiscompanion,glancingathim. “Oh,thereisreallyverylittletotell,Harry,”answeredthepainter“andIamafraidyouwillhardlyunderstandit.Perhapsyouwillhardlybelieveit.” LordHenrysmiled,andleaningdown,pluckedapink-petalleddaisyfromthegrassandexaminedit.“IamquitesureIshallunderstandit,”hereplied,gazingintentlyatthelittlegolden,white-feathereddisk,“andasforbelievingthings,Icanbelieveanything,providedthatitisquiteincredible.” Thewindshooksomeblossomsfromthetrees,andtheheavylilac-blooms,withtheirclusteringstars,movedtoandfrointhelanguidair.Agrasshopperbegantochirrupbythewall,andlikeabluethreadalongthindragon-flyfloatedpastonitsbrowngauzewings.LordHenryfeltasifhecouldhearBasilHallward’sheartbeating,andwonderedwhatwascoming. “Thestoryissimplythis,”saidthepainteraftersometime.“TwomonthsagoIwenttoacrushatLadyBrandon’s.Youknowwepoorartistshavetoshowourselvesinsocietyfromtimetotime,justtoremindthepublicthatwearenotsavages.Withaneveningcoatandawhitetie,asyoutoldmeonce,anybody,evenastock-broker,cangainareputationforbeingcivilized.Well,afterIhadbeenintheroomabouttenminutes,talkingtohugeoverdresseddowagersandtediousacademicians,Isuddenlybecameconsciousthatsomeonewaslookingatme.Iturnedhalf-wayroundandsawDorianGrayforthefirsttime.Whenoureyesmet,If