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道林格雷的画像-第2章

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ns。 intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration; and destroys the harmony of any face。 the moment one sits down to think; one bees all nose; or all forehead; or something horrid。 look at the successful men in any of the learned professions。 how perfectly hideous they are! except; of course; in the church。 but then in the church they dont think。 a bishop keeps on saying at the age of eighty what he was told to say when he was a boy of eighteen; and as a natural consequence he always looks absolutely delightful。 your mysterious young friend; whose name you have never told me; but whose picture really fascinates me; never thinks。 i feel quite sure of that。 he is some brainless beautiful creature who should be always here in winter when we have no flowers to look at; and always here in summer when we want something to chill our intelligence。 dont flatter yourself; basil: you are not in the least like him。〃

〃you dont understand me; harry;〃 answered the artist。 〃of course i am not like him。 i know that perfectly well。 indeed; i should be sorry to look like him。 you 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 the faltering steps of kings。 it is better not to be different from ones fellows。 the ugly and the stupid have the best of it in this world。 they can sit at their ease and gape at the play。 if 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 bring ruin upon others; nor ever receive it from alien hands。 your rank and wealth; harry; my brains; such as they are……my art; whatever it may be worth; dorian grays 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 hallward。

〃yes; that is his name。 i didnt intend to tell it to you。〃

〃but why not?〃

〃oh; i cant explain。 when i like people immensely; i never tell their names to any one。 it is like surrendering a part of them。 i have grown to love secrecy。 it seems to be the one thing that can make modern life mysterious or marvellous to us。 the monest thing is delightful if one only hides it。 when i leave town now i never tell my people where i am going。 if i did; i would lose all my pleasure。 it is a silly habit; i dare say; but somehow it seems to bring a great deal of romance into ones 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; when we dine out together; or go down to the dukes……we tell 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。 but when 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 hallward; strolling towards the door that led into the garden。 〃i believe that you are really a very good husband; but that you are thoroughly ashamed of your own virtues。 you are an extraordinary fellow。 you never say a moral thing; and you never do a wrong thing。 your cynicism is simply a pose。〃

〃being natural is simply a pose; and the most irritating pose i know;〃 cried lord henry; laughing; and the two young men went out into the garden together and ensconced themselves on a long bamboo seat that stood in the shade of a tall laurel bush。 the sunlight slipped over the polished leaves。 in the grass; white daisies were tremulous。

after a pause; lord henry pulled out his watch。 〃i am 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。〃

〃what is that?〃 said the painter; keeping his eyes fixed on the ground。

〃you know quite well。〃

〃i do not; harry。〃

〃well; i will tell you what it is。 i want you to explain to me why you wont exhibit dorian grays 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 hallward; looking him straight in the face; 〃every portrait that is painted with feeling is 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; on the coloured 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。

〃i will tell you;〃 said hallward; but an expression of perplexity came over his face。

〃i am all expectation; basil;〃 continued his panion; glancing at him。

〃oh; there is really very little to tell; harry;〃 answered the painter; 〃and i am afraid you will hardly understand it。 perhaps you will hardly believe it。〃

lord henry smiled; and leaning down; plucked a pink…petalled 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 disk; 〃and as for believing things; i can believe anything; provided that it is 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。 a grasshopper began to chirrup by the wall; and like a blue thread a long thin dragon…fly floated past on its brown gauze wings。 lord henry felt as if he could hear basil hallwards heart beating; and wondered what was ing。

〃the story is simply this;〃 said the painter after some time。 〃two months ago i went to a crush at lady brandons。 you know we poor artists have to show ourselves in 
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