CHAPTER 1
The studio 0
was filled with the rich odour of roses , and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of
the garden 1
, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac , or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn .
From the corner of the divan of Persian saddle-bags on which
he 2
was lying , smoking , as was
his 2
custom , innumerable cigarettes ,
Lord Henry Wotton 2
could just catch the gleam of the honey-sweet and honey-coloured blossoms of a laburnum , whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able to bear the burden of a beauty so flamelike as theirs ; and now and then the fantastic shadows of birds in flight flitted across the long tussore-silk curtains that were stretched in front of the huge window , producing a kind of momentary Japanese effect , and making
him 2
think of those pallid , jade-faced painters of
Tokyo 3
who , through the medium of an art that is necessarily immobile , seek to convey the sense of swiftness and motion .
The sullen murmur of the bees shouldering their way through the long unmown grass , or circling with monotonous insistence round the dusty gilt horns of the straggling woodbine , seemed to make the stillness more oppressive .
The dim roar of
London 4
was like the bourdon note of a distant organ .
In the centre of
the room 5
, clamped to an upright easel , stood the full-length portrait of
a young man of extraordinary personal beauty 6
, and in front of it , some little distance away , was sitting
the artist
himself 7
7
,
Basil Hallward 42
, whose sudden disappearance some years ago caused , at the time , such public excitement and gave rise to so many strange conjectures .
As
the painter 7
looked at the gracious and comely form
he 7
had so skilfully mirrored in
his 7
art , a smile of pleasure passed across
his 7
face , and seemed about to linger there .
But
he 7
suddenly started up , and closing
his 7
eyes , placed
his 7
fingers upon the lids , as though
he 7
sought to imprison within
his 7
brain some curious dream from which
he 7
feared
he 7
might awake .
" It is
your 7
best work ,
Basil 7
, the best thing
you 7
have ever done , " said
Lord Henry 2
languidly .
"
You 7
must certainly send it next year to
the Grosvenor 8
.
The Academy 9
is too large and too vulgar .
Whenever
I 2
have gone
there 9
, there have been either
so many people 10
that
I 2
have not been able to see the pictures , which was dreadful , or so many pictures that
I 2
have not been able to see
the people 10
, which was worse .
The Grosvenor 8
is really
the only place 48
. "
"
I 7
do n't think
I 7
shall send it anywhere , "
he 7
answered , tossing
his 7
head back in that odd way that used to make
his 7
friends 11
laugh at
him 7
at
Oxford 12
.
" No ,
I 7
wo n't send it anywhere . "
Lord Henry 2
elevated
his 2
eyebrows and looked at
him 7
in amazement through the thin blue wreaths of smoke that curled up in such fanciful whorls from
his 2
heavy , opium-tainted cigarette .
" Not send it anywhere ?
My 2
dear fellow 7
, why ?
Have
you 7
any reason ?
What odd chaps 13
you painters 14
are !
You 7
do anything in
the world 15
to gain a reputation .
As soon as
you 7
have one ,
you 7
seem to want to throw it away .
It is silly of
you 7
, for there is only one thing in
the world 15
worse than being talked about , and that is not being talked about .
A portrait like this would set
you 7
far above
all the young men in
England 17
16
, and make
the old men 18
quite jealous , if
old men 36
are ever capable of any emotion . "
"
I 7
know
you 2
will laugh at
me 7
, "
he 7
replied , " but
I 7
really ca n't exhibit it .
I 7
have put too much of
myself 7
into it . "
Lord Henry 2
stretched
himself 2
out on the divan and laughed .
" Yes ,
I 2
knew
you 7
would ; but it is quite true , all the same . "
" Too much of
yourself 7
in it !
Upon
my 2
word ,
Basil 7
,
I 2
did n't know
you 7
were so vain ; and
I 2
really ca n't see any resemblance between
you 7
, with
your 7
rugged strong face and
your 7
coal-black hair , and
this young Adonis 6
, who looks as if
he 6
was made out of ivory and rose-leaves .
Why ,
my 2
dear 7
Basil 7
,
he 6
is
a Narcissus 43
, and
you 7
-- well , of course
you 7
have an intellectual expression and all that .
But beauty , real beauty , ends where 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 all forehead , or something horrid .
Look at
the successful men 19
in any of the learned professions .
How perfectly hideous
they 19
are !
Except , of course , in
the Church 20
.
But then in
the Church 20
they 19
do n't think .
A bishop 21
keeps on saying at the age of eighty what
he 21
was told to say when
he 21
was
a boy of eighteen 44
, and as a natural consequence
he 21
always looks absolutely delightful .
Your 7
mysterious young friend , whose name
you 7
have never told
me 2
, but whose picture really fascinates
me 2
6
, never thinks .
I 2
feel quite sure of that .
He 6
is
some brainless beautiful creature who should be always here in winter when
we 22
have no flowers to look at , and always here in summer when
we 22
want something to chill
our 22
intelligence 45
.
Do n't flatter
yourself 7
,
Basil 7
:
you 7
are not in the least like
him 6
. "
"
You 2
do n't understand
me 7
,
Harry 2
, " answered
the artist 7
.
" Of course
I 7
am not like
him 6
.
I 7
know that perfectly well .
Indeed ,
I 7
should be sorry to look like
him 6
.
You 2
shrug
your 2
shoulders ?
I 7
am telling
you 2
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
one 's fellows 23
.
The ugly 24
and
the stupid 25
have the best of it in
this world 15
.
They 26
can sit at
their 26
ease and gape at the play .
If
they 26
know nothing of victory ,
they 26
are at least spared the knowledge of defeat .
They 26
live as
we 27
all should live -- undisturbed , indifferent , and without disquiet .
They 26
neither bring ruin upon others , nor ever receive it from alien hands .
Your 2
rank and wealth ,
Harry 2
;
my 7
brains , such as they are --
my 7
art , whatever it may be worth ;
Dorian Gray 6
's good looks --
we 28
shall all suffer for what
the gods 29
have given
us 28
, suffer terribly . "
"
Dorian Gray 6
?
Is that
his 6
name ? "
asked
Lord Henry 2
, walking across
the studio 0
towards
Basil Hallward 7
.
" Yes , that is
his 6
name .
I 7
did n't intend to tell it to
you 2
. "
" But why not ? "
" Oh ,
I 7
ca n't explain .
When
I 7
like
people 30
immensely ,
I 7
never tell
their 30
names to
any one 31
.
It is like surrendering a part of
them 30
.
I 7
have grown to love secrecy .
It seems to be the one thing that can make modern life mysterious or marvellous to
us 32
.
The commonest thing is delightful if one only hides it .
When
I 7
leave
town 4
now
I 7
never tell
my 7
people 30
where
I 7
am going .
If
I 7
did ,
I 7
would lose all
my 7
pleasure .
It is a silly habit ,
I 7
dare say , but somehow it seems to bring a great deal of romance into one 's life .
I 7
suppose
you 2
think
me 7
awfully foolish about it ? "
" Not at all , " answered
Lord Henry 2
, " not at all ,
my 2
dear 7
Basil 7
.
You 7
seem to forget that
I 2
am married , and the one charm of marriage is that it makes a life of deception absolutely necessary for both parties .
I 2
never know where
my 2
wife 33
is , and
my 2
wife 33
never knows what
I 2
am doing .
When
we 34
meet --
we 34
do meet occasionally , when
we 34
dine out together , or go down to
the Duke 35
's --
we 34
tell each other the most absurd stories with the most serious faces .
My 2
wife 33
is very good at it -- much better , in fact , than
I 2
am .
She 33
never gets confused over
her 33
dates , and
I 2
always do .
But when
she 33
does find
me 2
out ,
she 33
makes no row at all .
I 2
sometimes wish
she 33
would ; but
she 33
merely laughs at
me 2
. "
"
I 7
hate the way
you 2
talk about
your 2
married life ,
Harry 2
, " said
Basil Hallward 7
, strolling towards the door that led into
the garden 1
.
"
I 7
believe that
you 2
are really
a very good husband 46
, but that
you 2
are thoroughly ashamed of
your 2
own virtues .
You 2
are
an extraordinary fellow 47
.
You 2
never say a moral thing , and
you 2
never do a wrong thing .
Your 2
cynicism is simply a pose . "
" Being natural is simply a pose , and the most irritating pose
I 2
know , " cried
Lord Henry 2
, laughing ; and
the two young men 22
went out into
the garden 1
together and ensconced
themselves 22
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 2
pulled out
his 2
watch .
"
I 2
am afraid
I 2
must be going ,
Basil 7
, "
he 2
murmured , " and before
I 2
go ,
I 2
insist on
your 2
answering a question
I 2
put to
you 2
some time ago . "
" What is that ? "
said
the painter 7
, keeping
his 7
eyes fixed on the ground .
"
You 2
know quite well . "
"
I 7
do not ,
Harry 2
. "
" Well ,
I 2
will tell
you 7
what it is .
I 2
want
you 7
to explain to
me 2
why
you 7
wo n't exhibit
Dorian Gray 6
's picture .
I 2
want the real reason . "
"
I 7
told
you 2
the real reason . "
" No ,
you 7
did not .
You 7
said it was because there was too much of
yourself 7
in it .
Now , that is childish . "
"
Harry 2
, " said
Basil Hallward 7
, looking
him 2
straight in the face , " every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of
the artist 37
, not of
the sitter 38
.
The sitter 39
is merely the accident , the occasion .
It is not
he 39
who is revealed by
the painter 40
; it is rather
the painter who , on the coloured canvas , reveals
himself 41
41
.
The reason
I 7
will not exhibit this picture is that
I 7
am afraid that
I 7
have shown in it the secret of
my 7
own soul . "
Lord Henry 2
laughed .
" And what is that ? "
he 2
asked .
"
I 7
will tell
you 2
, " said
Hallward 7
; but an expression of perplexity came over
his 7
face .