道林格雷的画像_奥斯卡·王尔德-第10章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


to　go。　he　wanted　me　to　try　some　cigars　that　he　strongly　remended。　i　declined。　the　next　night；　of　course；　i　arrived　at　the　place　again。　when　he　saw　me；　he　made　me　a　low　bow　and　assured　me　that　i　was　a　munificent　patron　of　art。　he　was　a　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　doriana　great　distinction。　most　people　bee　bankrupt　through　having　invested　too　heavily　in　the　prose　of　life。　to　have　ruined　ones　self　over　poetry　is　an　honour。　but　when　did　you　first　speak　to　miss　sibyl　vane？〃

〃the　third　night。　she　had　been　playing　rosalind。　i　could　not　help　going　round。　i　had　thrown　her　some　flowers；　and　she　had　looked　at　meat　least　i　fancied　that　she　had。　the　old　jew　was　persistent。　he　seemed　determined　to　take　me　behind；　so　i　consented。　it　was　curious　my　not　wanting　to　know　her；　wasnt　it？〃

〃no；　i　dont　think　so。〃

〃my　dear　harry；　why？〃

〃i　will　tell　you　some　other　time。　now　i　want　to　know　about　the　girl。〃

〃sibyl？　oh；　she　was　so　shy　and　so　gentle。　there　is　something　of　a　child　about　her。　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　jew　stood　grinning　at　the　doorway　of　the　dusty　greenroom；　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　sibyl　that　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　sibyl　knows　how　to　pay　pliments。〃

〃you　dont　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…wrapper　on　the　first　night；　and　looks　as　if　she　had　seen　better　days。〃

〃i　know　that　look。　it　depresses　me；〃　murmured　lord　henry；　examining　his　rings。

〃the　jew　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　peoples　tragedies。〃

〃sibyl　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　and　entirely　divine。　every　night　of　my　life　i　go　to　see　her　act；　and　every　night　she　is　more　marvellous。〃

〃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　have　been　to　the　opera　with　you　several　times；〃　said　dorian；　opening　his　blue　eyes　in　wonder。

〃you　always　e　dreadfully　late。〃

〃well；　i　cant　help　going　to　see　sibyl　play；〃　he　cried；　〃even　if　it　is　only　for　a　single　act。　i　get　hungry　for　her　presence；　and　when　i　think　of　the　wonderful　soul　that　is　hidden　away　in　that　little　ivory　body；　i　am　filled　with　awe。〃

〃you　can　dine　with　me　to…night；　dorian；　cant　you？〃

he　shook　his　head。　〃to…night　she　is　imogen；〃　he　answered；　〃and　to…morrow　night　she　will　be　juliet。〃

〃when　is　she　sibyl　vane？〃

〃never。〃

〃i　congratulate　you。〃

〃how　horrid　you　are！　she　is　all　the　great　heroines　of　the　world　in　one。　she　is　more　than　an　individual。　you　laugh；　but　i　tell　you　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　sibyl　vane　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　to　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　hallwards　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　e　to　meet　it　on　the　way。

〃and　what　do　you　propose　to　do？〃　said　lord　henry　at　last。

〃i　want　you　and　basil　to　e　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　jews　hands。　she　is　bound　to　him　for　three　yearsat　least　for　two　years　and　eight　months　from　the　present　time。　i　shall　have　to　pay　him　something；　of　course。　when　all　that　is　settled；　i　shall　take　a　west　end　theatre　and　bring　her　out　properly。　she　will　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；　but　she　has　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。　to…day　is　tuesday。　let　us　fix　to…morrow。　she　plays　juliet　to…morrow。〃

〃all　right。　the　bristol　at　eight　oclock；　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　will　be　like　having　a　meat…tea；　or　reading　an　english　novel。　it　must　be　seven。　no　gentleman　dines　before　seven。　shall　you　see　basil　between　this　and　then？　or　shall　i　write　to　him？〃

〃dear　basil！　i　have　not　laid　eyes　on　him　for　a　week。　it　is　rather　horrid　of　me；　as　he　has　sent　me　my　portrait　in　the　most　wonderful　frame；　specially　designed　by　himself；　and；　though　i　am　a　little　jealous　of　the　picture　for　being　a　whole　month　younger　than　i　am；　i　must　admit　that　i　delight　in　it。　perhaps　you　had　better　write　to　him。　i　dont　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　the　best　of　fellows；　but　he　seems　to　me　to　be　just　a　bit　of　a　philistine。　since　i　have　known　you；　harry；　i　have　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　mon　sense。　the　only　artists　i　have　ever　known　who　are　personally　delightful　are　bad　artists。　good　artists　exist　simply　in　what　they　make；　and　consequently　are　perfectly　uninteresting　in　what　they　are。　a　great　poet；　a　really　great　poet；　is　the　most　unpoetical　of　all　creatures。　but　inferior　poets　are　absolutely　fascinating。　the　worse　their　rhymes　are；　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　am　off。　imogen　is　waiting　for　me。　dont　forget　about　to…morrow。　good…bye。〃

as　he　left　the　room；　lord　henrys　heavy　eyelids　drooped；　and　he　began　to　think。　certainly　few　people　had　ever　interested　him　so　much　as　dorian　gray；　and　yet　the　lads　mad　adoration　of　some　one　else　caused　him　not　the　slightest　pang　of　annoyance　or　jealousy。　he　was　pleased　by　it。　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　vivisecting　others。　human　lifethat　appeared　to　him　the　one　thing　worth　investigating。　pared　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　ones　face　a　mask　of　glass；　nor　keep　the　sulphurous　fumes　from　troubling　the　brain　and　making　the　imagination　turbid　with　monstrous　fancies　and　misshapen　dreams。　there　were　poisons　so　subtle　that　to　know　their　properties　one　had　to　sicken　of　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　coloured　life　of　the　intellectto　observe　where　they　met；　and　where　they　separated；　at　what　point　they　were　in　unison；　and　at　what　point　they　were　at　discordthere　was　a　delight　in　that！　what　matter　what　the　cost　was？　one　could　never　pay　too　high　a　price　for　any　sensation。

he　was　consciousand　the　thought　brought　a　gleam　of　pleasure　into　his　brown　agate　eyesthat　it　was　through　certain　words　of　his；　musical　words　said　with　musical　utterance；　that　dorian　grays　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　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　dealt　immediately　with　the　passions　and　the　intellect。　but　now　and　then　a　plex　personality　took　the　place　and　assumed　the　office　of　art；　was　indeed；　in　its　way；　a　real　work　of　art；　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。　the　pulse　and　passion　of　youth　were　in　him；　but　he　was　being　self…conscious。　it　was　delightful　to　watch　him。　with　his　beautiful　face；　and　his　beautiful　soul；　he　was　a　thing　to　wonder　at。　it　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　stir　ones　sense　of　beauty；　and　whose　wounds　are　like　red　roses。

soul　and　body；　body　and　soulhow　mysterious　they　were！　there　was　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　psychical　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　a　shadow　seated　in　the　house　of　sin？　or　was　the　body　really　in　the　soul；　as　giordano　bruno　thought？　the　separation　of　spirit　from　matter　was　a　mystery；　and　the　union　of　spirit　with　matter　was　a　mystery　also。

he　began　to　wonder　whether　we　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；　r