道林.格雷的画像 英文版 The Picture of Dorian Gray
奥斯卡.王尔德 Oscar Wilde
CHAPTER X
It was on the 7th of November, the eve of his own thirty-second birthday, as he often remembered afterwards.
He was walking home about eleven o'clock from Lord Henry's, where hehad been dining, and was wrapped in heavy furs, as the night was coldand foggy. At the corner of Grosvenor Square and South Audley Streeta man passed him in the mist, walking very fast, and with the collarof his gray ulster turned up. He had a bag in his hand. Herecognized him. It was Basil Hallward. A strange sense of fear, forwhich he could not account, came over him. He made no sign ofrecognition, and went on slowly, in the direction of his own house.
But Hallward had seen him. Dorian heard him first stopping, and thenhurrying after him. In a few moments his hand was on his arm.
"Dorian! What an extraordinary piece of luck! I have been waitingfor you ever since nine o'clock in your library. Finally I took pityon your tired servant, and told him to go to bed, as he let me out.I am off to Paris by the midnight train, and I wanted particularly tosee you before I left. I thought it was you, or rather your furcoat, as you passed me. But I wasn't quite sure. Didn't yourecognize me?"
"In this fog, my dear Basil? Why, I can't even recognize GrosvenorSquare. I believe my house is somewhere about here, but I don't feelat all certain about it. I am sorry you are going away, as I havenot seen you for ages. But I suppose you will be back soon?"
"No: I am going to be out of England for six months. I intendto take a studio in Paris, and shut myself up till I have finished agreat picture I have in my head. However, it wasn't about myself Iwanted to talk. Here we are at your door. Let me come in for amoment. I have something to say to you. "
"I shall be charmed. But won't you miss your train?" said DorianGray, languidly, as he passed up the steps and opened the door withhis latch-key.
The lamp-light struggled out through the fog, and Hallward looked athis watch. "I have heaps of time, " he answered. "The train doesn'tgo till twelve-fifteen, and it is only just eleven. In fact, I wason my way to the club to look for you, when I met you. You see, Ishan't have any delay about luggage, as I have sent on my heavythings. All I have with me is in this bag, and I can easily get toVictoria in twenty minutes. "
Dorian looked at him and smiled. "What a way for a fashionablepainter to travel! A Gladstone bag, and an ulster! Come in, or thefog will get into the house. And mind you don't talk about anythingserious. Nothing is serious nowadays. At least nothing should be. "
Hallward shook his head, as he entered, and followed Dorian into thelibrary. There was a bright wood fire blazing in the large openhearth. The lamps were lit, and an open Dutch silver spirit-casestood, with some siphons of soda-water and large cut-glass tumblers,on a little table.
"You see your servant made me quite at home, Dorian. He gave meeverything I wanted, including your best cigarettes. He is a mosthospitable creature. I like him much better than the Frenchman youused to have. What has become of the Frenchman, by the bye?"
Dorian shrugged his shoulders. "I believe he married Lady Ashton'smaid, and has established her in Paris as an English dressmaker.Anglomanie is very fashionable over there now, I hear. It seemssilly of the French, doesn't it? But--do you know?--he was not atall a bad servant. I never liked him, but I had nothing to complainabout. One often imagines things that are quite absurd. He wasreally very devoted to me, and seemed quite sorry when he went away.Have another brandy-and-soda? Or would you like hock-and-seltzer? Ialways take hock-and-seltzer myself. There is sure to be some in thenext room. "
"Thanks, I won't have anything more, " said Hallward, taking his capand coat off, and throwing them on the bag that he had placed in thecorner. "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 is it all about?" cried Dorian, in his petulant way, flinginghimself down on the sofa. "I hope it is not about myself. I amtired of myself to-night. I should like to be somebody else. "
"It is about yourself, " answered Hallward, in his grave, deep voice,"and I must say it to you. I shall only keep you half an hour. "
Dorian sighed, and lit a cigarette. "Half an hour!" he murmured.
"It is not much to ask of you, Dorian, and it is entirely foryour own sake that I am speaking. I think it right that you shouldknow that the most dreadful things are being said about you inLondon, --things that I could hardly repeat to you. "
"I don't wish to know anything about them. I love scandals aboutother people, but scandals about myself don't interest me. They havenot got the charm of novelty. "
"They must interest you, Dorian. Every gentleman is interested inhis good name. You don't want people to talk of you as somethingvile and degraded. Of course you have your position, and yourwealth, and all that kind of thing. But position and wealth are noteverything. Mind you, I don't believe these rumors at all. Atleast, I can't believe them when I see you. Sin is a thing thatwrites itself across a man's face. It cannot be concealed. Peopletalk of secret vices. There are no such things as secret vices. Ifa wretched man has a vice, it shows itself in the lines of his mouth,the droop of his eyelids, the moulding of his hands even. Somebody--I won't mention his name, but you know him--came to me last year tohave his portrait done. I had never seen him before, and had neverheard anything about him at the time, though I have heard a good dealsince. He offered an extravagant price. I refused him. There wassomething in the shape of his fingers that I hated. I know now thatI was quite right in what I fancied about him. His life is dreadful.But you, Dorian, with your pure, bright, innocent face, and yourmarvellous untroubled youth, --I can't believe anything against you.And yet I see you very seldom, and you never come down to the studionow, and when I am away from you, and I hear all these hideous thingsthat people are whispering about you, I don't know what to say. Whyis it, Dorian, that a man like the Duke of Berwick leaves the room ofa club when you enter it? Why is it that so many gentlemen in Londonwill neither go to your house nor invite you to theirs? You used tobe a friend of Lord Cawdor. I met him at dinner last week. Yourname happened to come up in conversation, in connection with theminiatures you have lent to the exhibition at the Dudley. Cawdorcurled his lip, and said that you might have the most artistictastes, but that you were a man whom no pure-minded girl should beallowed to know, and whom no chaste woman should sit in the same roomwith. I reminded him that I was a friend of yours, and asked himwhat he meant. He told me. He told me right out before everybody.It was horrible! Why is your friendship so fateful to young men?There was that wretched boy in the Guards who committed suicide. Youwere his great friend. There was Sir Henry Ashton, who had to leaveEngland, with a tarnished name. You and he were inseparable. Whatabout Adrian Singleton, and his dreadful end? What about Lord Kent'sonly son, and his career? I met his father yesterday in St. JamesStreet. He seemed broken with shame and sorrow. What about theyoung Duke of Perth? What sort of life has he got now? Whatgentleman would associate with him? Dorian, Dorian, your reputationis infamous. I know you and Harry are great friends. I say nothingabout that now, but surely you need not have made his sister'sname a by-word. When you met Lady Gwendolen, not a breath of scandalhad ever touched her. Is there a single decent woman in London nowwho would drive with her in the Park? Why, even her children are notallowed to live with her. Then there are other stories, --storiesthat you have been seen creeping at dawn out of dreadful houses andslinking in disguise into the foulest dens in London. Are they true?Can they be true? When I first heard them, I laughed. I hear themnow, and they make me shudder. What about your country-house, andthe life that is led there? Dorian, you don't know what is saidabout you. I won't tell you that I don't want to preach to you. Iremember Harry saying once that every man who turned himself into anamateur curate for the moment always said that, and then broke hisword. I do want to preach to you. I want you to lead such a life aswill make the world respect you. I want you to have a clean name anda fair record. I want you to get rid of the dreadful people youassociate with. Don't shrug your shoulders like that. Don't be soindifferent. You have a wonderful influence. Let it be for good,not for evil. They say that you corrupt every one whom you becomeintimate with, and that it is quite sufficient for you to enter ahouse, for shame of some kind to follow after you. I don't knowwhether it is so or not. How should I know? But it is said of you.I am told things that it seems impossible to doubt. Lord Gloucesterwas one of my greatest friends at Oxford. He showed me a letter thathis wife had written to him when she was dying alone in her villa atMentone. Your name was implicated in the most terrible confession Iever read. I told him that it was absurd, --that I knew youthoroughly, and that you were incapable of anything of the kind.Know you? I wonder do I know you? Before I could answer that, Ishould have to see your soul. "
"To see my soul!" muttered Dorian Gray, starting up from the sofa andturning almost white from fear.
"Yes, " answered Hallward, gravely, and with infinite sorrow in hisvoice, --"to see your soul. But only God can do that. "
A bitter laugh of mockery broke from the lips of the younger man."You shall see it yourself, to-night!" he cried, seizing a lamp fromthe table. "Come: it is your own handiwork. Why shouldn't you lookat it? You can tell the world all about it afterwards, if youchoose. Nobody would believe you. If they did believe you, they'dlike me all the better for it. I know the age better than you do,though you will prate about it so tediously. Come, I tell you. Youhave chattered enough about corruption. Now you shall look on itface to face. "
There was the madness of pride in every word he uttered. He stampedhis foot upon the ground in his boyish insolent manner. He felt aterrible joy at the thought that some one else was to share hissecret, and that the man who had painted the portrait that was theorigin of all his shame was to be burdened for the rest of his lifewith the hideous memory of what he had done.
"Yes, " he continued, coming closer to him, and looking steadfastlyinto his stern eyes, "I will show you my soul. You shall see thething that you fancy only God can see. "
Hallward started back. "This is blasphemy, Dorian!" he cried."You must not say things like that. They are horrible, and theydon't mean anything. "
"You think so?" He laughed again.
"I know so. As for what I said to you to-night, I said it for yourgood. You know I have been always devoted to you. "
"Don't touch me. Finish what you have to say. "
A twisted flash of pain shot across Hallward's face. He paused for amoment, and a wild feeling of pity came over him. After all, whatright had he to pry into the life of Dorian Gray? If he had done atithe of what was rumored about him, how much he must have suffered!Then he straightened himself up, and walked over to the fireplace,and stood there, looking at the burning logs with their frost-likeashes and their throbbing cores 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 mustgive me some answer to these horrible charges that are made againstyou. If you tell me that they are absolutely untrue from beginningto end, I will believe you. Deny them, Dorian, deny them! Can't yousee what I am going through? My God! don't tell me that you areinfamous!"
Dorian Gray smiled. There was a curl of contempt in his lips. "Comeup-stairs, Basil, " he said, quietly. "I keep a diary of my life fromday to day, and it never leaves the room in which it is written. Iwill show it to you if you come with me. "
"I will come with you, Dorian, if you wish it. I see I have missedmy train. That makes no matter. I can go to-morrow. But don't askme to read anything to-night. All I want is a plain answer to myquestion. "
"That will be given to you up-stairs. I could not give it here. Youwon't have to read long. Don't keep me waiting. "