第1章

Theartististhecreatorofbeautifulthings。

Torevealartandconcealtheartistisart’saim。

Thecriticishewhocantranslateintoanothermanneroranewmaterialhisimpressionofbeautifulthings。

Thehighestasthelowestformofcriticismisamodeofautobiography。

Thosewhofinduglymeaningsinbeautifulthingsarecorruptwithoutbeingcharming。

Thisisafault。

Thosewhofindbeautifulmeaningsinbeautifulthingsarethecultivated。Forthesethereishope。

Theyaretheelecttowhombeautifulthingsmeanonlybeauty。

Thereisnosuchthingasamoraloranimmoralbook。Booksarewellwritten，orbadlywritten。

Thatisall。

ThenineteenthcenturydislikeofrealismistherageofCalibanseeinghisownfaceinaglass。

ThenineteenthcenturydislikeofromanticismistherageofCalibannotseeinghisownfaceinaglass。

Themorallifeofmanformspartofthesubject-matteroftheartist，butthemoralityofartconsistsintheperfectuseofanimperfectmedium。Noartistdesirestoproveanything。Eventhingsthataretruecanbeproved。

Noartisthasethicalsympathies。

Anethicalsympathyinanartistisanunpardonablemannerismofstyle。Noartistisevermorbid。Theartistcanexpresseverything。

Thoughtandlanguagearetotheartistinstrumentsofanart。

Viceandvirtuearetotheartistmaterialsforanart。

Fromthepointofviewofform，thetypeofalltheartsistheartofthemusician。

Fromthepointofviewoffeeling，theactor’scraftisthetype。

Allartisatoncesurfaceandsymbol。

Thosewhogobeneaththesurfacedosoattheirperil。

Thosewhoreadthesymboldosoattheirperil。

Itisthespectator，andnotlife，thatartreallymirrors。

Diversityofopinionaboutaworkofartshowsthattheworkisnew，complex，andvital。

Whencriticsdisagree，theartistisinaccordwithhimself。

Wecanforgiveamanformakingausefulthingaslongashedoesnotadmireit。Theonlyexcuseformakingauselessthingisthatoneadmiresitintensely。

Allartisquiteuseless。OSCARWILDE

Thestudiowasfilledwiththerichodourofroses，andwhenthelightsummerwindstirredamidstthetreesofthegarden，therecamethroughtheopendoortheheavyscentofthelilac，orthemoredelicateperfumeofthepink-floweringthorn。

FromthecornerofthedivanofPersiansaddle-bagsonwhichhewaslying，smoking，aswashiscustom，innumerablecigarettes，LordHenryWottoncouldjustcatchthegleamofthehoney-sweetandhoney-colouredblossomsofalaburnum，whosetremulousbranchesseemedhardlyabletobeartheburdenofabeautysoflamelikeastheirs。andnowandthenthefantasticshadowsofbirdsinflightflittedacrossthelongtussore-silkcurtainsthatwerestretchedinfrontofthehugewindow，producingakindofmomentaryJapaneseeffect，andmakinghimthinkofthosepallid，jade-facedpaintersofTokyowho，throughthemediumofanartthatisnecessarilyimmobile，seektoconveythesenseofswiftnessandmotion。Thesullenmurmurofthebeesshoulderingtheirwaythroughthelongunmowngrass，orcirclingwithmonotonousinsistenceroundthedustygilthornsofthestragglingwoodbine，seemedtomakethestillnessmoreoppressive。ThedimroarofLondonwaslikethebourdonnoteofadistantorgan。

Inthecentreoftheroom，clampedtoanuprighteasel，stoodthefull-lengthportraitofayoungmanofextraordinarypersonalbeauty，andinfrontofit，somelittledistanceaway，wassittingtheartisthimself，BasilHallward，whosesuddendisappearancesomeyearsagocaused，atthetime，suchpublicexcitementandgaverisetosomanystrangeconjectures。

Asthepainterlookedatthegraciousandcomelyformhehadsoskilfullymirroredinhisart，asmileofpleasurepassedacrosshisface，andseemedabouttolingerthere。Buthesuddenlystartedup，andclosinghiseyes，placedhisfingersuponthelids，asthoughhesoughttoimprisonwithinhisbrainsomecuriousdreamfromwhichhefearedhemightawake。

Itisyourbestwork，Basil，thebestthingyouhaveeverdone，

saidLordHenrylanguidly。YoumustcertainlysenditnextyeartotheGrosvenor。TheAcademyistoolargeandtoovulgar。WheneverIhavegonethere，therehavebeeneithersomanypeoplethatIhavenotbeenabletoseethepictures，whichwasdreadful，orsomanypicturesthatIhavenotbeenabletoseethepeople，whichwasworse。TheGrosvenorisreallytheonlyplace。

Idon’tthinkIshallsenditanywhere，heanswered，tossinghisheadbackinthatoddwaythatusedtomakehisfriendslaughathimatOxford。No，Iwon’tsenditanywhere。

LordHenryelevatedhiseyebrowsandlookedathiminamazementthroughthethinbluewreathsofsmokethatcurledupinsuchfancifulwhorlsfromhisheavy，opium-taintedcigarette。Notsenditanywhere？

Mydearfellow，why？Haveyouanyreason？Whatoddchapsyoupaintersare！

Youdoanythingintheworldtogainareputation。Assoonasyouhaveone，youseemtowanttothrowitaway。Itissillyofyou，forthereisonlyonethingintheworldworsethanbeingtalkedabout，andthatisnotbeingtalkedabout。AportraitlikethiswouldsetyoufarabovealltheyoungmeninEngland，andmaketheoldmenquitejealous，ifoldmenareevercapableofanyemotion。

Iknowyouwilllaughatme，hereplied，butIreallycan’texhibitit。Ihaveputtoomuchofmyselfintoit。

LordHenrystretchedhimselfoutonthedivanandlaughed。Yes，Iknewyouwould。butitisquitetrue，allthesame。Toomuchofyourselfinit！Uponmyword，Basil，Ididn’tknowyouweresovain。andIreallycan’tseeanyresemblancebetweenyou，withyourruggedstrongfaceandyourcoal-blackhair，andthisyoungAdonis，wholooksasifhewasmadeoutofivoryandrose-leaves。Why，mydearBasil，heisaNarcissus，andyou——well，ofcourseyouhaveanintellectualexpressionandallthat。

Butbeauty，realbeauty，endswhereanintellectualexpressionbegins。

Intellectisinitselfamodeofexaggeration，anddestroystheharmonyofanyface。Themomentonesitsdowntothink，onebecomesallnose，orallforehead，orsomethinghorrid。Lookatthesuccessfulmeninanyofthelearnedprofessions。Howperfectlyhideoustheyare！Except，ofcourse，intheChurch。ButthenintheChurchtheydon’tthink。Abishopkeepsonsayingattheageofeightywhathewastoldtosaywhenhewasaboyofeighteen，andasanaturalconsequencehealwayslooksabsolutelydelightful。

Yourmysteriousyoungfriend，whosenameyouhavenevertoldme，butwhosepicturereallyfascinatesme，neverthinks。Ifeelquitesureofthat。

Heissomebrainlessbeautifulcreaturewhoshouldbealwayshereinwinterwhenwehavenoflowerstolookat，andalwayshereinsummerwhenwewantsomethingtochillourintelligence。Don’tflatteryourself，Basil：youarenotintheleastlikehim。

Youdon’tunderstandme，Harry，answeredtheartist。OfcourseIamnotlikehim。Iknowthatperfectlywell。Indeed，Ishouldbesorrytolooklikehim。Youshrugyourshoulders？Iamtellingyouthetruth。

Thereisafatalityaboutallphysicalandintellectualdistinction，thesortoffatalitythatseemstodogthroughhistorythefalteringstepsofkings。Itisbetternottobedifferentfromone’sfellows。Theuglyandthestupidhavethebestofitinthisworld。Theycansitattheireaseandgapeattheplay。Iftheyknownothingofvictory，theyareatleastsparedtheknowledgeofdefeat。Theyliveasweallshouldlive——undisturbed，indifferent，andwithoutdisquiet。Theyneitherbringruinuponothers，noreverreceiveitfromalienhands。Yourrankandwealth，Harry。mybrains，suchastheyare——myart，whateveritmaybeworth。DorianGray’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。Isometimeswishshewould。

butshemerelylaughsatme。

Ihatethewayyoutalkaboutyourmarriedlife，Harry，saidBasilHallward，strollingtowardsthedoorthatledintothegarden。I

believethatyouarereallyaverygoodhusband，butthatyouarethoroughlyashamedofyourownvirtues。Youareanextraordinaryfellow。Youneversayamoralthing，andyouneverdoawrongthing。Yourcynicismissimplyapose。

Beingnaturalissimplyapose，andthemostirritatingposeIknow，criedLordHenry，laughing。andthetwoyoungmenwentoutintothegardentogetherandensconcedthemselvesonalongbambooseatthatstoodintheshadeofatalllaurelbush。Thesunlightslippedoverthepolishedleaves。Inthegrass，whitedaisiesweretremulous。

Afterapause，LordHenrypulledouthiswatch。IamafraidI

mustbegoing，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。Itisnothewhoisrevealedbythepainter。itisratherthepainterwho，onthecolouredcanvas，revealshimself。ThereasonIwillnotexhibitthispictureisthatIamafraidthatIhaveshowninitthesecretofmyownsoul。

LordHenrylaughed。Andwhatisthat？heasked。

Iwilltellyou，saidHallward。butanexpressionofperplexitycameoverhisface。

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，IfeltthatIwasgrowingpale。Acurioussensationofterrorcameoverme。IknewthatIhadcomefacetofacewithsomeonewhosemerepersonalitywassofascinatingthat，ifIallowedittodoso，itwouldabsorbmywholenature，mywholesoul，myveryartitself。Ididnotwantanyexternalinfluenceinmylife。Youknowyourself，Harry，howindependentIambynature。I

havealwaysbeenmyownmaster。hadatleastalwaysbeenso，tillImetDorianGray。Then——butIdon’tknowhowtoexplainittoyou。SomethingseemedtotellmethatIwasonthevergeofaterriblecrisisinmylife。

Ihadastrangefeelingthatfatehadinstoreformeexquisitejoysandexquisitesorrows。Igrewafraidandturnedtoquittheroom。Itwasnotconsciencethatmademedoso：itwasasortofcowardice。Itakenocredittomyselffortryingtoescape。

Conscienceandcowardicearereallythesamethings，Basil。Conscienceisthetrade-nameofthefirm。Thatisall。

Idon’tbelievethat，Harry，andIdon’tbelieveyoudoeither。

However，whateverwasmymotive——anditmayhavebeenpride，forIusedtobeveryproud——Icertainlystruggledtothedoor。There，ofcourse，IstumbledagainstLadyBrandon。’Youarenotgoingtorunawaysosoon，Mr。Hallward？’shescreamedout。Youknowhercuriouslyshrillvoice？

Yes。sheisapeacockineverythingbutbeauty，saidLordHenry，pullingthedaisytobitswithhislongnervousfingers。

Icouldnotgetridofher。Shebroughtmeuptoroyalties，andpeoplewithstarsandgarters，andelderlyladieswithgigantictiarasandparrotnoses。Shespokeofmeasherdearestfriend。Ihadonlymetheroncebefore，butshetookitintoherheadtolionizeme。Ibelievesomepictureofminehadmadeagreatsuccessatthetime，atleasthadbeenchatteredaboutinthepennynewspapers，whichisthenineteenth-centurystandardofimmortality。SuddenlyIfoundmyselffacetofacewiththeyoungmanwhosepersonalityhadsostrangelystirredme。Wewerequiteclose，almosttouching。Oureyesmetagain。Itwasrecklessofme，butIaskedLadyBrandontointroducemetohim。Perhapsitwasnotsoreckless，afterall。Itwassimplyinevitable。Wewouldhavespokentoeachotherwithoutanyintroduction。Iamsureofthat。Doriantoldmesoafterwards。

He，too，feltthatweweredestinedtoknoweachother。

AndhowdidLadyBrandondescribethiswonderfulyoungman？

askedhiscompanion。Iknowshegoesinforgivingarapidprecisofallherguests。Irememberherbringingmeuptoatruculentandred-facedoldgentlemancoveredalloverwithordersandribbons，andhissingintomyear，inatragicwhisperwhichmusthavebeenperfectlyaudibletoeverybodyintheroom，themostastoundingdetails。Isimplyfled。Iliketofindoutpeopleformyself。ButLadyBrandontreatsherguestsexactlyasanauctioneertreatshisgoods。Sheeitherexplainsthementirelyaway，ortellsoneeverythingaboutthemexceptwhatonewantstoknow。

PoorLadyBrandon！Youarehardonher，Harry！saidHallwardlistlessly。

Mydearfellow，shetriedtofoundasalon，andonlysucceededinopeningarestaurant。HowcouldIadmireher？Buttellme，whatdidshesayaboutMr。DorianGray？

Oh，somethinglike，’Charmingboy——poordearmotherandIabsolutelyinseparable。Quiteforgetwhathedoes——afraidhe——doesn’tdoanything——oh，yes，playsthepiano——orisittheviolin，dearMr。Gray？’Neitherofuscouldhelplaughing，andwebecamefriendsatonce。

Laughterisnotatallabadbeginningforafriendship，anditisfarthebestendingforone，saidtheyounglord，pluckinganotherdaisy。

Hallwardshookhishead。Youdon’tunderstandwhatfriendshipis，Harry，hemurmured——orwhatenmityis，forthatmatter。Youlikeeveryone。thatistosay，youareindifferenttoeveryone。

Howhorriblyunjustofyou！criedLordHenry，tiltinghishatbackandlookingupatthelittlecloudsthat，likeravelledskeinsofglossywhitesilk，weredriftingacrossthehollowedturquoiseofthesummersky。Yes。horriblyunjustofyou。Imakeagreatdifferencebetweenpeople。

Ichoosemyfriendsfortheirgoodlooks，myacquaintancesfortheirgoodcharacters，andmyenemiesfortheirgoodintellects。Amancannotbetoocarefulinthechoiceofhisenemies。Ihavenotgotonewhoisafool。

Theyareallmenofsomeintellectualpower，andconsequentlytheyallappreciateme。Isthatveryvainofme？Ithinkitisrathervain。

Ishouldthinkitwas，Harry。ButaccordingtoyourcategoryImustbemerelyanacquaintance。

MydearoldBasil，youaremuchmorethananacquaintance。

Andmuchlessthanafriend。Asortofbrother，Isuppose？

Oh，brothers！Idon’tcareforbrothers。Myelderbrotherwon’tdie，andmyyoungerbrothersseemnevertodoanythingelse。

Harry！exclaimedHallward，frowning。

Mydearfellow，Iamnotquiteserious。ButIcan’thelpdetestingmyrelations。Isupposeitcomesfromthefactthatnoneofuscanstandotherpeoplehavingthesamefaultsasourselves。IquitesympathizewiththerageoftheEnglishdemocracyagainstwhattheycallthevicesoftheupperorders。Themassesfeelthatdrunkenness，stupidity，andimmoralityshouldbetheirownspecialproperty，andthatifanyoneofusmakesanassofhimself，heispoachingontheirpreserves。WhenpoorSouthwarkgotintothedivorcecourt，theirindignationwasquitemagnificent。AndyetIdon’tsupposethattenpercentoftheproletariatlivecorrectly。

Idon’tagreewithasinglewordthatyouhavesaid，and，whatismore，Harry，Ifeelsureyoudon’teither。

LordHenrystrokedhispointedbrownbeardandtappedthetoeofhispatent-leatherbootwithatasselledebonycane。HowEnglishyouareBasil！Thatisthesecondtimeyouhavemadethatobservation。IfoneputsforwardanideatoatrueEnglishman——alwaysarashthingtodo——heneverdreamsofconsideringwhethertheideaisrightorwrong。Theonlythingheconsidersofanyimportanceiswhetheronebelievesitoneself。

Now，thevalueofanideahasnothingwhatsoevertodowiththesincerityofthemanwhoexpressesit。Indeed，theprobabilitiesarethatthemoreinsincerethemanis，themorepurelyintellectualwilltheideabe，asinthatcaseitwillnotbecolouredbyeitherhiswants，hisdesires，orhisprejudices。However，Idon’tproposetodiscusspolitics，sociology，ormetaphysicswithyou。Ilikepersonsbetterthanprinciples，andIlikepersonswithnoprinciplesbetterthananythingelseintheworld。TellmemoreaboutMr。DorianGray。Howoftendoyouseehim？

Everyday。Icouldn’tbehappyifIdidn’tseehimeveryday。

Heisabsolutelynecessarytome。

Howextraordinary！Ithoughtyouwouldnevercareforanythingbutyourart。

Heisallmyarttomenow，saidthepaintergravely。Isometimesthink，Harry，thatthereareonlytwoerasofanyimportanceintheworld’shistory。Thefirstistheappearanceofanewmediumforart，andthesecondistheappearanceofanewpersonalityforartalso。Whattheinventionofoil-paintingwastotheVenetians，thefaceofAntinouswastolateGreeksculpture，andthefaceofDorianGraywillsomedaybetome。ItisnotmerelythatIpaintfromhim，drawfromhim，sketchfromhim。Ofcourse，Ihavedoneallthat。Butheismuchmoretomethanamodelorasitter。Iwon’ttellyouthatIamdissatisfiedwithwhatIhavedoneofhim，orthathisbeautyissuchthatartcannotexpressit。Thereisnothingthatartcannotexpress，andIknowthattheworkIhavedone，sinceImetDorianGray，isgoodwork，isthebestworkofmylife。Butinsomecuriousway——Iwonderwillyouunderstandme？——hispersonalityhassuggestedtomeanentirelynewmannerinart，anentirelynewmodeofstyle。Iseethingsdifferently，Ithinkofthemdifferently。Icannowrecreatelifeinawaythatwashiddenfrommebefore。’Adreamofformindaysofthought’——whoisitwhosaysthat？Iforget。butitiswhatDorianGrayhasbeentome。Themerelyvisiblepresenceofthislad——forheseemstomelittlemorethanalad，thoughheisreallyovertwenty——

hismerelyvisiblepresence——ah！Iwondercanyourealizeallthatthatmeans？Unconsciouslyhedefinesformethelinesofafreshschool，aschoolthatistohaveinitallthepassionoftheromanticspirit，alltheperfectionofthespiritthatisGreek。Theharmonyofsoulandbody——howmuchthatis！Weinourmadnesshaveseparatedthetwo，andhaveinventedarealismthatisvulgar，anidealitythatisvoid。Harry！ifyouonlyknewwhatDorianGrayistome！Yourememberthatlandscapeofmine，forwhichAgnewofferedmesuchahugepricebutwhichIwouldnotpartwith？ItisoneofthebestthingsIhaveeverdone。Andwhyisitso？Because，whileI

waspaintingit，DorianGraysatbesideme。Somesubtleinfluencepassedfromhimtome，andforthefirsttimeinmylifeIsawintheplainwoodlandthewonderIhadalwayslookedforandalwaysmissed。

Basil，thisisextraordinary！ImustseeDorianGray。

Hallwardgotupfromtheseatandwalkedupanddownthegarden。

Aftersometimehecameback。Harry，hesaid，DorianGrayistomesimplyamotiveinart。Youmightseenothinginhim。Iseeeverythinginhim。

Heisnevermorepresentinmyworkthanwhennoimageofhimisthere。

Heisasuggestion，asIhavesaid，ofanewmanner。Ifindhiminthecurvesofcertainlines，inthelovelinessandsubtletiesofcertaincolours。

Thatisall。

Thenwhywon’tyouexhibithisportrait？askedLordHenry。

Because，withoutintendingit，Ihaveputintoitsomeexpressionofallthiscuriousartisticidolatry，ofwhich，ofcourse，Ihavenevercaredtospeaktohim。Heknowsnothingaboutit。Heshallneverknowanythingaboutit。Buttheworldmightguessit，andIwillnotbaremysoultotheirshallowpryingeyes。Myheartshallneverbeputundertheirmicroscope。

Thereistoomuchofmyselfinthething，Harry——toomuchofmyself！

Poetsarenotsoscrupulousasyouare。Theyknowhowusefulpassionisforpublication。Nowadaysabrokenheartwillruntomanyeditions。

Ihatethemforit，criedHallward。Anartistshouldcreatebeautifulthings，butshouldputnothingofhisownlifeintothem。Weliveinanagewhenmentreatartasifitweremeanttobeaformofautobiography。

Wehavelosttheabstractsenseofbeauty。SomedayIwillshowtheworldwhatitis。andforthatreasontheworldshallneverseemyportraitofDorianGray。

Ithinkyouarewrong，Basil，butIwon’targuewithyou。Itisonlytheintellectuallylostwhoeverargue。Tellme，isDorianGrayveryfondofyou？

Thepainterconsideredforafewmoments。Helikesme，heansweredafterapause。Iknowhelikesme。OfcourseIflatterhimdreadfully。

IfindastrangepleasureinsayingthingstohimthatIknowIshallbesorryforhavingsaid。Asarule，heischarmingtome，andwesitinthestudioandtalkofathousandthings。Nowandthen，however，heishorriblythoughtless，andseemstotakearealdelightingivingmepain。ThenI

feel，Harry，thatIhavegivenawaymywholesoultosomeonewhotreatsitasifitwereaflowertoputinhiscoat，abitofdecorationtocharmhisvanity，anornamentforasummer’sday。

Daysinsummer，Basil，areapttolinger，murmuredLordHenry。

Perhapsyouwilltiresoonerthanhewill。Itisasadthingtothinkof，butthereisnodoubtthatgeniuslastslongerthanbeauty。Thataccountsforthefactthatwealltakesuchpainstoover-educateourselves。Inthewildstruggleforexistence，wewanttohavesomethingthatendures，andsowefillourmindswithrubbishandfacts，inthesillyhopeofkeepingourplace。Thethoroughlywell-informedman——thatisthemodernideal。

Andthemindofthethoroughlywell-informedmanisadreadfulthing。Itislikeabric-a-bracshop，allmonstersanddust，witheverythingpricedaboveitspropervalue。Ithinkyouwilltirefirst，allthesame。Somedayyouwilllookatyourfriend，andhewillseemtoyoutobealittleoutofdrawing，oryouwon’tlikehistoneofcolour，orsomething。Youwillbitterlyreproachhiminyourownheart，andseriouslythinkthathehasbehavedverybadlytoyou。Thenexttimehecalls，youwillbeperfectlycoldandindifferent。Itwillbeagreatpity，foritwillalteryou。Whatyouhavetoldmeisquitearomance，aromanceofartonemightcallit，andtheworstofhavingaromanceofanykindisthatitleavesonesounromantic。

Harry，don’ttalklikethat。AslongasIlive，thepersonalityofDorianGraywilldominateme。Youcan’tfeelwhatIfeel。Youchangetoooften。

Ah，mydearBasil，thatisexactlywhyIcanfeelit。Thosewhoarefaithfulknowonlythetrivialsideoflove：itisthefaithlesswhoknowlove’stragedies。AndLordHenrystruckalightonadaintysilvercaseandbegantosmokeacigarettewithaself-consciousandsatisfiedair，asifhehadsummeduptheworldinaphrase。Therewasarustleofchirrupingsparrowsinthegreenlacquerleavesoftheivy，andthebluecloud-shadowschasedthemselvesacrossthegrasslikeswallows。Howpleasantitwasinthegarden！Andhowdelightfulotherpeople’semotionswere！——

muchmoredelightfulthantheirideas，itseemedtohim。One’sownsoul，andthepassionsofone’sfriends——thosewerethefascinatingthingsinlife。HepicturedtohimselfwithsilentamusementthetediousluncheonthathehadmissedbystayingsolongwithBasilHallward。Hadhegonetohisaunt’s，hewouldhavebeensuretohavemetLordGoodbodythere，andthewholeconversationwouldhavebeenaboutthefeedingofthepoorandthenecessityformodellodging-houses。Eachclasswouldhavepreachedtheimportanceofthosevirtues，forwhoseexercisetherewasnonecessityintheirownlives。Therichwouldhavespokenonthevalueofthrift，andtheidlegrowneloquentoverthedignityoflabour。Itwascharmingtohaveescapedallthat！Ashethoughtofhisaunt，anideaseemedtostrikehim。HeturnedtoHallwardandsaid，Mydearfellow，Ihavejustremembered。

Rememberedwhat，Harry？

WhereIheardthenameofDorianGray。

Wherewasit？askedHallward，withaslightfrown。

Don’tlooksoangry，Basil。Itwasatmyaunt，LadyAgatha’s。

ShetoldmeshehaddiscoveredawonderfulyoungmanwhowasgoingtohelpherintheEastEnd，andthathisnamewasDorianGray。Iamboundtostatethatshenevertoldmehewasgood-looking。Womenhavenoappreciationofgoodlooks。atleast，goodwomenhavenot。Shesaidthathewasveryearnestandhadabeautifulnature。Iatoncepicturedtomyselfacreaturewithspectaclesandlankhair，horriblyfreckled，andtrampingaboutonhugefeet。IwishIhadknownitwasyourfriend。

Iamverygladyoudidn’t，Harry。

Why？

Idon’twantyoutomeethim。

Youdon’twantmetomeethim？

No。

Mr。DorianGrayisinthestudio，sir，saidthebutler，comingintothegarden。

Youmustintroducemenow，criedLordHenry，laughing。

Thepainterturnedtohisservant，whostoodblinkinginthesunlight。

AskMr。Graytowait，Parker：Ishallbeininafewmoments。Themanbowedandwentupthewalk。

ThenhelookedatLordHenry。DorianGrayismydearestfriend，

hesaid。Hehasasimpleandabeautifulnature。Yourauntwasquiterightinwhatshesaidofhim。Don’tspoilhim。Don’ttrytoinfluencehim。Yourinfluencewouldbebad。Theworldiswide，andhasmanymarvellouspeopleinit。Don’ttakeawayfrommetheonepersonwhogivestomyartwhatevercharmitpossesses：mylifeasanartistdependsonhim。Mind，Harry，I

trustyou。Hespokeveryslowly，andthewordsseemedwrungoutofhimalmostagainsthiswill。

Whatnonsenseyoutalk！saidLordHenry，smiling，andtakingHallwardbythearm，healmostledhimintothehouse。

ThePictureofDorianGray：Chapter2Chapter2AstheyenteredtheysawDorianGray。Hewasseatedatthepiano，withhisbacktothem，turningoverthepagesofavolumeofSchumann’sForestScenes。Youmustlendmethese，Basil，hecried。Iwanttolearnthem。

Theyareperfectlycharming。

Thatentirelydependsonhowyousitto-day，Dorian。

Oh，Iamtiredofsitting，andIdon’twantalife-sizedportraitofmyself，answeredthelad，swingingroundonthemusic-stoolinawilful，petulantmanner。WhenhecaughtsightofLordHenry，afaintblushcolouredhischeeksforamoment，andhestartedup。Ibegyourpardon，Basil，butIdidn’tknowyouhadanyonewithyou。

ThisisLordHenryWotton，Dorian，anoldOxfordfriendofmine。

Ihavejustbeentellinghimwhatacapitalsitteryouwere，andnowyouhavespoiledeverything。

Youhavenotspoiledmypleasureinmeetingyou，Mr。Gray，saidLordHenry，steppingforwardandextendinghishand。Myaunthasoftenspokentomeaboutyou。Youareoneofherfavourites，and，Iamafraid，oneofhervictimsalso。

IaminLadyAgatha’sblackbooksatpresent，answeredDorianwithafunnylookofpenitence。IpromisedtogotoaclubinWhitechapelwithherlastTuesday，andIreallyforgotallaboutit。Weweretohaveplayedaduettogether——threeduets，Ibelieve。Idon’tknowwhatshewillsaytome。Iamfartoofrightenedtocall。

Oh，Iwillmakeyourpeacewithmyaunt。Sheisquitedevotedtoyou。AndIdon’tthinkitreallymattersaboutyournotbeingthere。

Theaudienceprobablythoughtitwasaduet。WhenAuntAgathasitsdowntothepiano，shemakesquiteenoughnoisefortwopeople。

Thatisveryhorridtoher，andnotverynicetome，answeredDorian，laughing。

LordHenrylookedathim。Yes，hewascertainlywonderfullyhandsome，withhisfinelycurvedscarletlips，hisfrankblueeyes，hiscrispgoldhair。Therewassomethinginhisfacethatmadeonetrusthimatonce。

Allthecandourofyouthwasthere，aswellasallyouth’spassionatepurity。

Onefeltthathehadkepthimselfunspottedfromtheworld。NowonderBasilHallwardworshippedhim。

Youaretoocharmingtogoinforphilanthropy，Mr。Gray——fartoocharming。AndLordHenryflunghimselfdownonthedivanandopenedhiscigarette-case。

Thepainterhadbeenbusymixinghiscoloursandgettinghisbrushesready。Hewaslookingworried，andwhenheheardLordHenry’slastremark，heglancedathim，hesitatedforamoment，andthensaid，Harry，Iwanttofinishthispictureto-day。WouldyouthinkitawfullyrudeofmeifIaskedyoutogoaway？

LordHenrysmiledandlookedatDorianGray。AmItogo，Mr。

Gray？heasked。

Oh，pleasedon’t，LordHenry。IseethatBasilisinoneofhissulkymoods，andIcan’tbearhimwhenhesulks。Besides，IwantyoutotellmewhyIshouldnotgoinforphilanthropy。

Idon’tknowthatIshalltellyouthat，Mr。Gray。Itissotediousasubjectthatonewouldhavetotalkseriouslyaboutit。ButIcertainlyshallnotrunaway，nowthatyouhaveaskedmetostop。Youdon’treallymind，Basil，doyou？Youhaveoftentoldmethatyoulikedyoursitterstohavesomeonetochatto。

Hallwardbithislip。IfDorianwishesit，ofcourseyoumuststay。Dorian’swhimsarelawstoeverybody，excepthimself。

LordHenrytookuphishatandgloves。Youareverypressing，Basil，butIamafraidImustgo。IhavepromisedtomeetamanattheOrleans。Good-bye，Mr。Gray。ComeandseemesomeafternooninCurzonStreet。

Iamnearlyalwaysathomeatfiveo’clock。Writetomewhenyouarecoming。

Ishouldbesorrytomissyou。

Basil，criedDorianGray，ifLordHenryWottongoes，Ishallgo，too。Youneveropenyourlipswhileyouarepainting，anditishorriblydullstandingonaplatformandtryingtolookpleasant。Askhimtostay。

Iinsistuponit。

Stay，Harry，toobligeDorian，andtoobligeme，saidHallward，gazingintentlyathispicture。Itisquitetrue，InevertalkwhenI

amworking，andneverlisteneither，anditmustbedreadfullytediousformyunfortunatesitters。Ibegyoutostay。

ButwhataboutmymanattheOrleans？

Thepainterlaughed。Idon’tthinktherewillbeanydifficultyaboutthat。Sitdownagain，Harry。Andnow，Dorian，getupontheplatform，anddon’tmoveabouttoomuch，orpayanyattentiontowhatLordHenrysays。Hehasaverybadinfluenceoverallhisfriends，withthesingleexceptionofmyself。

DorianGraysteppeduponthedaiswiththeairofayoungGreekmartyr，andmadealittlemoueofdiscontenttoLordHenry，towhomhehadrathertakenafancy。HewassounlikeBasil。Theymadeadelightfulcontrast。Andhehadsuchabeautifulvoice。Afterafewmomentshesaidtohim，Haveyoureallyaverybadinfluence，LordHenry？AsbadasBasilsays？

Thereisnosuchthingasagoodinfluence，Mr。Gray。Allinfluenceisimmoral——immoralfromthescientificpointofview。

Why？

Becausetoinfluenceapersonistogivehimone’sownsoul。

Hedoesnotthinkhisnaturalthoughts，orburnwithhisnaturalpassions。

Hisvirtuesarenotrealtohim。Hissins，iftherearesuchthingsassins，areborrowed。Hebecomesanechoofsomeoneelse’smusic，anactorofapartthathasnotbeenwrittenforhim。Theaimoflifeisself-development。

Torealizeone’snatureperfectly——thatiswhateachofusisherefor。

Peopleareafraidofthemselves，nowadays。Theyhaveforgottenthehighestofallduties，thedutythatoneowestoone’sself。Ofcourse，theyarecharitable。Theyfeedthehungryandclothethebeggar。Buttheirownsoulsstarve，andarenaked。Couragehasgoneoutofourrace。Perhapsweneverreallyhadit。Theterrorofsociety，whichisthebasisofmorals，theterrorofGod，whichisthesecretofreligion——thesearethetwothingsthatgovernus。Andyet——

Justturnyourheadalittlemoretotheright，Dorian，likeagoodboy，saidthepainter，deepinhisworkandconsciousonlythatalookhadcomeintothelad’sfacethathehadneverseentherebefore。

Andyet，continuedLordHenry，inhislow，musicalvoice，andwiththatgracefulwaveofthehandthatwasalwayssocharacteristicofhim，andthathehadeveninhisEtondays，Ibelievethatifonemanweretoliveouthislifefullyandcompletely，weretogiveformtoeveryfeeling，expressiontoeverythought，realitytoeverydream——Ibelievethattheworldwouldgainsuchafreshimpulseofjoythatwewouldforgetallthemaladiesofmediaevalism，andreturntotheHellenicideal——tosomethingfiner，richerthantheHellenicideal，itmaybe。Butthebravestmanamongstusisafraidofhimself。Themutilationofthesavagehasitstragicsurvivalintheself-denialthatmarsourlives。Wearepunishedforourrefusals。Everyimpulsethatwestrivetostranglebroodsinthemindandpoisonsus。Thebodysinsonce，andhasdonewithitssin，foractionisamodeofpurification。Nothingremainsthenbuttherecollectionofapleasure，ortheluxuryofaregret。Theonlywaytogetridofatemptationistoyieldtoit。Resistit，andyoursoulgrowssickwithlongingforthethingsithasforbiddentoitself，withdesireforwhatitsmonstrouslawshavemademonstrousandunlawful。Ithasbeensaidthatthegreateventsoftheworldtakeplaceinthebrain。Itisinthebrain，andthebrainonly，thatthegreatsinsoftheworldtakeplacealso。You，Mr。Gray，youyourself，withyourrose-redyouthandyourrose-whiteboyhood，youhavehadpassionsthathavemadeyouafraid，thoughtsthathavefinedyouwithterror，day-dreamsandsleepingdreamswhosemerememorymightstainyourcheekwithshame——

Stop！falteredDorianGray，stop！youbewilderme。Idon’tknowwhattosay。Thereissomeanswertoyou，butIcannotfindit。Don’tspeak。Letmethink。Or，rather，letmetrynottothink。

Fornearlytenminuteshestoodthere，motionless，withpartedlipsandeyesstrangelybright。Hewasdimlyconsciousthatentirelyfreshinfluenceswereatworkwithinhim。Yettheyseemedtohimtohavecomereallyfromhimself。ThefewwordsthatBasil’sfriendhadsaidtohim——wordsspokenbychance，nodoubt，andwithwilfulparadoxinthem——hadtouchedsomesecretchordthathadneverbeentouchedbefore，butthathefeltwasnowvibratingandthrobbingtocuriouspulses。

Musichadstirredhimlikethat。Musichadtroubledhimmanytimes。

Butmusicwasnotarticulate。Itwasnotanewworld，butratheranotherchaos，thatitcreatedinus。Words！Merewords！Howterribletheywere！

Howclear，andvivid，andcruel！Onecouldnotescapefromthem。Andyetwhatasubtlemagictherewasinthem！Theyseemedtobeabletogiveaplasticformtoformlessthings，andtohaveamusicoftheirownassweetasthatofvioloroflute。Merewords！Wasthereanythingsorealaswords？

Yes。therehadbeenthingsinhisboyhoodthathehadnotunderstood。

Heunderstoodthemnow。Lifesuddenlybecamefiery-colouredtohim。Itseemedtohimthathehadbeenwalkinginfire。Whyhadhenotknownit？

Withhissubtlesmile，LordHenrywatchedhim。Heknewtheprecisepsychologicalmomentwhentosaynothing。Hefeltintenselyinterested。

Hewasamazedatthesuddenimpressionthathiswordshadproduced，and，rememberingabookthathehadreadwhenhewassixteen，abookwhichhadrevealedtohimmuchthathehadnotknownbefore，hewonderedwhetherDorianGraywaspassingthroughasimilarexperience。Hehadmerelyshotanarrowintotheair。Hadithitthemark？Howfascinatingtheladwas！

Hallwardpaintedawaywiththatmarvellousboldtouchofhis，thathadthetruerefinementandperfectdelicacythatinart，atanyratecomesonlyfromstrength。Hewasunconsciousofthesilence。

Basil，Iamtiredofstanding，criedDorianGraysuddenly。I

mustgooutandsitinthegarden。Theairisstiflinghere。

Mydearfellow，Iamsosorry。WhenIampainting，Ican’tthinkofanythingelse。Butyouneversatbetter。Youwereperfectlystill。AndIhavecaughttheeffectIwanted——thehalf-partedlipsandthebrightlookintheeyes。Idon’tknowwhatHarryhasbeensayingtoyou，buthehascertainlymadeyouhavethemostwonderfulexpression。Isupposehehasbeenpayingyoucompliments。Youmustn’tbelieveawordthathesays。

Hehascertainlynotbeenpayingmecompliments。PerhapsthatisthereasonthatIdon’tbelieveanythinghehastoldme。

Youknowyoubelieveitall，saidLordHenry，lookingathimwithhisdreamylanguorouseyes。Iwillgoouttothegardenwithyou。

Itishorriblyhotinthestudio。Basil，letushavesomethingicedtodrink，somethingwithstrawberriesinit。

Certainly，Harry。Justtouchthebell，andwhenParkercomesIwilltellhimwhatyouwant。Ihavegottoworkupthisbackground，soIwilljoinyoulateron。Don’tkeepDoriantoolong。IhaveneverbeeninbetterformforpaintingthanIamto-day。Thisisgoingtobemymasterpiece。

Itismymasterpieceasitstands。

LordHenrywentouttothegardenandfoundDorianGrayburyinghisfaceinthegreatcoollilac-blossoms，feverishlydrinkingintheirperfumeasifithadbeenwine。Hecameclosetohimandputhishanduponhisshoulder。Youarequiterighttodothat，hemurmured。Nothingcancurethesoulbutthesenses，justasnothingcancurethesensesbutthesoul。

Theladstartedanddrewback。Hewasbareheaded，andtheleaveshadtossedhisrebelliouscurlsandtangledalltheirgildedthreads。Therewasalookoffearinhiseyes，suchaspeoplehavewhentheyaresuddenlyawakened。Hisfinelychisellednostrilsquivered，andsomehiddennerveshookthescarletofhislipsandleftthemtrembling。

Yes，continuedLordHenry，thatisoneofthegreatsecretsoflife——tocurethesoulbymeansofthesenses，andthesensesbymeansofthesoul。Youareawonderfulcreation。Youknowmorethanyouthinkyouknow，justasyouknowlessthanyouwanttoknow。

DorianGrayfrownedandturnedhisheadaway。Hecouldnothelplikingthetall，gracefulyoungmanwhowasstandingbyhim。Hisromantic，olive-colouredfaceandwornexpressioninterestedhim。Therewassomethinginhislowlanguidvoicethatwasabsolutelyfascinating。Hiscool，white，flowerlikehands，even，hadacuriouscharm。Theymoved，ashespoke，likemusic，andseemedtohavealanguageoftheirown。Buthefeltafraidofhim，andashamedofbeingafraid。Whyhaditbeenleftforastrangertorevealhimtohimself？HehadknownBasilHallwardformonths，butthefriendshipbetweenthemhadneveralteredhim。Suddenlytherehadcomesomeoneacrosshislifewhoseemedtohavedisclosedtohimlife’smystery。

And，yet，whatwastheretobeafraidof？Hewasnotaschoolboyoragirl。

Itwasabsurdtobefrightened。

Letusgoandsitintheshade，saidLordHenry。Parkerhasbroughtoutthedrinks，andifyoustayanylongerinthisglare，youwillbequitespoiled，andBasilwillneverpaintyouagain。Youreallymustnotallowyourselftobecomesunburnt。Itwouldbeunbecoming。

Whatcanitmatter？criedDorianGray，laughing，ashesatdownontheseatattheendofthegarden。

Itshouldmattereverythingtoyou，Mr。Gray。

Why？

Becauseyouhavethemostmarvellousyouth，andyouthistheonethingworthhaving。

Idon’tfeelthat，LordHenry。

No，youdon’tfeelitnow。Someday，whenyouareoldandwrinkledandugly，whenthoughthassearedyourforeheadwithitslines，andpassionbrandedyourlipswithitshideousfires，youwillfeelit，youwillfeelitterribly。Now，whereveryougo，youcharmtheworld。Willitalwaysbeso？……Youhaveawonderfullybeautifulface，Mr。Gray。Don’tfrown。

Youhave。Andbeautyisaformofgenius——ishigher，indeed，thangenius，asitneedsnoexplanation。Itisofthegreatfactsoftheworld，likesunlight，orspring-time，orthereflectionindarkwatersofthatsilvershellwecallthemoon。Itcannotbequestioned。Ithasitsdivinerightofsovereignty。Itmakesprincesofthosewhohaveit。Yousmile？Ah！whenyouhavelostityouwon’tsmile……Peoplesaysometimesthatbeautyisonlysuperficial。Thatmaybeso，butatleastitisnotsosuperficialasthoughtis。Tome，beautyisthewonderofwonders。Itisonlyshallowpeoplewhodonotjudgebyappearances。Thetruemysteryoftheworldisthevisible，nottheinvisible……Yes，Mr。Gray，thegodshavebeengoodtoyou。Butwhatthegodsgivetheyquicklytakeaway。Youhaveonlyafewyearsinwhichtolivereally，perfectly，andfully。Whenyouryouthgoes，yourbeautywillgowithit，andthenyouwillsuddenlydiscoverthattherearenotriumphsleftforyou，orhavetocontentyourselfwiththosemeantriumphsthatthememoryofyourpastwillmakemorebitterthandefeats。Everymonthasitwanesbringsyounearertosomethingdreadful。

Timeisjealousofyou，andwarsagainstyourliliesandyourroses。Youwillbecomesallow，andhollow-cheeked，anddull-eyed。Youwillsufferhorribly……Ah！realizeyouryouthwhileyouhaveit。Don’tsquanderthegoldofyourdays，listeningtothetedious，tryingtoimprovethehopelessfailure，orgivingawayyourlifetotheignorant，thecommon，andthevulgar。Thesearethesicklyaims，thefalseideals，ofourage。Live！

Livethewonderfullifethatisinyou！Letnothingbelostuponyou。Bealwayssearchingfornewsensations。Beafraidofnothing……AnewHedonism——thatiswhatourcenturywants。Youmightbeitsvisiblesymbol。

Withyourpersonalitythereisnothingyoucouldnotdo。Theworldbelongstoyouforaseason……ThemomentImetyouIsawthatyouwerequiteunconsciousofwhatyoureallyare，ofwhatyoureallymightbe。TherewassomuchinyouthatcharmedmethatIfeltImusttellyousomethingaboutyourself。Ithoughthowtragicitwouldbeifyouwerewasted。Forthereissuchalittletimethatyouryouthwilllast——suchalittletime。

Thecommonhill-flowerswither，buttheyblossomagain。ThelaburnumwillbeasyellownextJuneasitisnow。Inamonththerewillbepurplestarsontheclematis，andyearafteryearthegreennightofitsleaveswillholditspurplestars。Butwenevergetbackouryouth。Thepulseofjoythatbeatsinusattwentybecomessluggish。Ourlimbsfail，oursensesrot。Wedegenerateintohideouspuppets，hauntedbythememoryofthepassionsofwhichweweretoomuchafraid，andtheexquisitetemptationsthatwehadnotthecouragetoyieldto。Youth！Youth！Thereisabsolutelynothingintheworldbutyouth！

DorianGraylistened，open-eyedandwondering。Thesprayoflilacfellfromhishanduponthegravel。Afurrybeecameandbuzzedrounditforamoment。Thenitbegantoscrambleallovertheovalstellatedglobeofthetinyblossoms。Hewatcheditwiththatstrangeinterestintrivialthingsthatwetrytodevelopwhenthingsofhighimportmakeusafraid，orwhenwearestirredbysomenewemotionforwhichwecannotfindexpression，orwhensomethoughtthatterrifiesuslayssuddensiegetothebrainandcallsonustoyield。Afteratimethebeeflewaway。HesawitcreepingintothestainedtrumpetofaTyrianconvolvulus。Theflowerseemedtoquiver，andthenswayedgentlytoandfro。

Suddenlythepainterappearedatthedoorofthestudioandmadestaccatosignsforthemtocomein。Theyturnedtoeachotherandsmiled。

Iamwaiting，hecried。Docomein。Thelightisquiteperfect，andyoucanbringyourdrinks。

Theyroseupandsauntereddownthewalktogether。Twogreen-and-whitebutterfliesflutteredpastthem，andinthepear-treeatthecornerofthegardenathrushbegantosing。

Youaregladyouhavemetme，Mr。Gray，saidLordHenry，lookingathim。

Yes，Iamgladnow。IwondershallIalwaysbeglad？

Always！Thatisadreadfulword。ItmakesmeshudderwhenIhearit。Womenaresofondofusingit。Theyspoileveryromancebytryingtomakeitlastforever。Itisameaninglessword，too。Theonlydifferencebetweenacapriceandalifelongpassionisthatthecapricelastsalittlelonger。

Astheyenteredthestudio，DorianGrayputhishanduponLordHenry’sarm。Inthatcase，letourfriendshipbeacaprice，hemurmured，flushingathisownboldness，thensteppedupontheplatformandresumedhispose。

LordHenryflunghimselfintoalargewickerarm-chairandwatchedhim。Thesweepanddashofthebrushonthecanvasmadetheonlysoundthatbrokethestillness，exceptwhen，nowandthen，Hallwardsteppedbacktolookathisworkfromadistance。Intheslantingbeamsthatstreamedthroughtheopendoorwaythedustdancedandwasgolden。Theheavyscentoftherosesseemedtobroodovereverything。

AfteraboutaquarterofanhourHallwardstoppedpainting，lookedforalongtimeatDorianGray，andthenforalongtimeatthepicture，bitingtheendofoneofhishugebrushesandfrowning。Itisquitefinished，

hecriedatlast，andstoopingdownhewrotehisnameinlongvermilionlettersontheleft-handcornerofthecanvas。

LordHenrycameoverandexaminedthepicture。Itwascertainlyawonderfulworkofart，andawonderfullikenessaswell。

Mydearfellow，Icongratulateyoumostwarmly，hesaid。Itisthefinestportraitofmoderntimes。Mr。Gray，comeoverandlookatyourself。

Theladstarted，asifawakenedfromsomedream。

Isitreallyfinished？hemurmured，steppingdownfromtheplatform。

Quitefinished，saidthepainter。Andyouhavesatsplendidlyto-day。Iamawfullyobligedtoyou。

Thatisentirelyduetome，brokeinLordHenry。Isn’tit，Mr。Gray？

Dorianmadenoanswer，butpassedlistlesslyinfrontofhispictureandturnedtowardsit。Whenhesawithedrewback，andhischeeksflushedforamomentwithpleasure。Alookofjoycameintohiseyes，asifhehadrecognizedhimselfforthefirsttime。Hestoodtheremotionlessandinwonder，dimlyconsciousthatHallwardwasspeakingtohim，butnotcatchingthemeaningofhiswords。Thesenseofhisownbeautycameonhimlikearevelation。Hehadneverfeltitbefore。BasilHallward’scomplimentshadseemedtohimtobemerelythecharmingexaggerationoffriendship。

Hehadlistenedtothem，laughedatthem，forgottenthem。Theyhadnotinfluencedhisnature。ThenhadcomeLordHenryWottonwithhisstrangepanegyriconyouth，histerriblewarningofitsbrevity。Thathadstirredhimatthetime，andnow，ashestoodgazingattheshadowofhisownloveliness，thefullrealityofthedescriptionflashedacrosshim。Yes，therewouldbeadaywhenhisfacewouldbewrinkledandwizen，hiseyesdimandcolourless，thegraceofhisfigurebrokenanddeformed。Thescarletwouldpassawayfromhislipsandthegoldstealfromhishair。Thelifethatwastomakehissoulwouldmarhisbody。Hewouldbecomedreadful，hideous，anduncouth。

Ashethoughtofit，asharppangofpainstruckthroughhimlikeaknifeandmadeeachdelicatefibreofhisnaturequiver。Hiseyesdeepenedintoamethyst，andacrossthemcameamistoftears。Hefeltasifahandoficehadbeenlaiduponhisheart。

Don’tyoulikeit？criedHallwardatlast，stungalittlebythelad’ssilence，notunderstandingwhatitmeant。

Ofcoursehelikesit，saidLordHenry。Whowouldn’tlikeit？

Itisoneofthegreatestthingsinmodernart。Iwillgiveyouanythingyouliketoaskforit。Imusthaveit。

Itisnotmyproperty，Harry。

Whosepropertyisit？

Dorian’s，ofcourse，answeredthepainter。

Heisaveryluckyfellow。

Howsaditis！murmuredDorianGraywithhiseyesstillfixeduponhisownportrait。Howsaditis！Ishallgrowold，andhorrible，anddreadful。Butthispicturewillremainalwaysyoung。ItwillneverbeolderthanthisparticulardayofJune……Ifitwereonlytheotherway！IfitwereIwhowastobealwaysyoung，andthepicturethatwastogrowold！Forthat——forthat——Iwouldgiveeverything！Yes，thereisnothinginthewholeworldIwouldnotgive！Iwouldgivemysoulforthat！

Youwouldhardlycareforsuchanarrangement，Basil，criedLordHenry，laughing。Itwouldberatherhardlinesonyourwork。

Ishouldobjectverystrongly，Harry，saidHallward。

DorianGrayturnedandlookedathim。Ibelieveyouwould，Basil。

Youlikeyourartbetterthanyourfriends。Iamnomoretoyouthanagreenbronzefigure。Hardlyasmuch，Idaresay。

Thepainterstaredinamazement。ItwassounlikeDoriantospeaklikethat。Whathadhappened？Heseemedquiteangry。Hisfacewasflushedandhischeeksburning。

Yes，hecontinued，IamlesstoyouthanyourivoryHermesoryoursilverFaun。Youwilllikethemalways。Howlongwillyoulikeme？TillIhavemyfirstwrinkle，Isuppose。Iknow，now，thatwhenonelosesone’sgoodlooks，whatevertheymaybe，oneloseseverything。Yourpicturehastaughtmethat。LordHenryWottonisperfectlyright。Youthistheonlythingworthhaving。WhenIfindthatIamgrowingold，Ishallkillmyself。

Hallwardturnedpaleandcaughthishand。Dorian！Dorian！hecried，don’ttalklikethat。Ihaveneverhadsuchafriendasyou，andIshallneverhavesuchanother。Youarenotjealousofmaterialthings，areyou？——youwhoarefinerthananyofthem！

Iamjealousofeverythingwhosebeautydoesnotdie。Iamjealousoftheportraityouhavepaintedofme。WhyshoulditkeepwhatImustlose？Everymomentthatpassestakessomethingfrommeandgivessomethingtoit。Oh，ifitwereonlytheotherway！Ifthepicturecouldchange，andIcouldbealwayswhatIamnow！Whydidyoupaintit？Itwillmockmesomeday——mockmehorribly！Thehottearswelledintohiseyes。hetorehishandawayand，flinginghimselfonthedivan，heburiedhisfaceinthecushions，asthoughhewaspraying。

Thisisyourdoing，Harry，saidthepainterbitterly。

LordHenryshruggedhisshoulders。ItistherealDorianGray——

thatisall。

Itisnot。

Ifitisnot，whathaveItodowithit？

YoushouldhavegoneawaywhenIaskedyou，hemuttered。

Istayedwhenyouaskedme，wasLordHenry’sanswer。

Harry，Ican’tquarrelwithmytwobestfriendsatonce，butbetweenyoubothyouhavemademehatethefinestpieceofworkIhaveeverdone，andIwilldestroyit。Whatisitbutcanvasandcolour？Iwillnotletitcomeacrossourthreelivesandmarthem。

DorianGrayliftedhisgoldenheadfromthepillow，andwithpallidfaceandtear-stainedeyes，lookedathimashewalkedovertothedealpainting-tablethatwassetbeneaththehighcurtainedwindow。Whatwashedoingthere？Hisfingerswerestrayingaboutamongthelitteroftintubesanddrybrushes，seekingforsomething。Yes，itwasforthelongpalette-knife，withitsthinbladeoflithesteel。Hehadfounditatlast。

Hewasgoingtoripupthecanvas。

Withastifledsobtheladleapedfromthecouch，and，rushingovertoHallward，toretheknifeoutofhishand，andflungittotheendofthestudio。Don’t，Basil，don’t！hecried。Itwouldbemurder！

Iamgladyouappreciatemyworkatlast，Dorian，saidthepaintercoldlywhenhehadrecoveredfromhissurprise。Ineverthoughtyouwould。

Appreciateit？Iaminlovewithit，Basil。Itispartofmyself。

Ifeelthat。

Well，assoonasyouaredry，youshallbevarnished，andframed，andsenthome。Thenyoucandowhatyoulikewithyourself。Andhewalkedacrosstheroomandrangthebellfortea。Youwillhavetea，ofcourse，Dorian？Andsowillyou，Harry？Ordoyouobjecttosuchsimplepleasures？

Iadoresimplepleasures，saidLordHenry。Theyarethelastrefugeofthecomplex。ButIdon’tlikescenes，exceptonthestage。Whatabsurdfellowsyouare，bothofyou！Iwonderwhoitwasdefinedmanasarationalanimal。Itwasthemostprematuredefinitionevergiven。Manismanythings，butheisnotrational。Iamgladheisnot，afterall——

thoughIwishyouchapswouldnotsquabbleoverthepicture。Youhadmuchbetterletmehaveit，Basil。Thissillyboydoesn’treallywantit，andIreallydo。

Ifyouletanyonehaveitbutme，Basil，Ishallneverforgiveyou！criedDorianGray。andIdon’tallowpeopletocallmeasillyboy。

Youknowthepictureisyours，Dorian。Igaveittoyoubeforeitexisted。

Andyouknowyouhavebeenalittlesilly，Mr。Gray，andthatyoudon’treallyobjecttobeingremindedthatyouareextremelyyoung。

Ishouldhaveobjectedverystronglythismorning，LordHenry。

Ah！thismorning！Youhavelivedsincethen。

Therecameaknockatthedoor，andthebutlerenteredwithaladentea-trayandsetitdownuponasmallJapanesetable。TherewasarattleofcupsandsaucersandthehissingofaflutedGeorgianurn。Twoglobe-shapedchinadisheswerebroughtinbyapage。DorianGraywentoverandpouredoutthetea。Thetwomensaunteredlanguidlytothetableandexaminedwhatwasunderthecovers。

Letusgotothetheatreto-night，saidLordHenry。Thereissuretobesomethingon，somewhere。IhavepromisedtodineatWhite’s，butitisonlywithanoldfriend，soIcansendhimawiretosaythatIamill，orthatIampreventedfromcominginconsequenceofasubsequentengagement。Ithinkthatwouldbearatherniceexcuse：itwouldhaveallthesurpriseofcandour。

Itissuchaboreputtingonone’sdress-clothes，mutteredHallward。

And，whenonehasthemon，theyaresohorrid。

Yes，answeredLordHenrydreamily，thecostumeofthenineteenthcenturyisdetestable。Itissosombre，sodepressing。Sinistheonlyrealcolour-elementleftinmodernlife。

YoureallymustnotsaythingslikethatbeforeDorian，Harry。

BeforewhichDorian？Theonewhoispouringoutteaforus，ortheoneinthepicture？

Beforeeither。

Ishouldliketocometothetheatrewithyou，LordHenry，saidthelad。

Thenyoushallcome。andyouwillcome，too，Basil，won’tyou？

Ican’t，really。Iwouldsoonernot。Ihavealotofworktodo。

Well，then，youandIwillgoalone，Mr。Gray。

Ishouldlikethatawfully。

Thepainterbithislipandwalkedover，cupinhand，tothepicture。

IshallstaywiththerealDorian，hesaid，sadly。

IsittherealDorian？criedtheoriginaloftheportrait，strollingacrosstohim。AmIreallylikethat？

Yes。youarejustlikethat。

Howwonderful，Basil！

Atleastyouarelikeitinappearance。Butitwillneveralter，

sighedHallward。Thatissomething。

Whatafusspeoplemakeaboutfidelity！exclaimedLordHenry。

Why，eveninloveitispurelyaquestionforphysiology。Ithasnothingtodowithourownwill。Youngmenwanttobefaithful，andarenot。oldmenwanttobefaithless，andcannot：thatisallonecansay。

Don’tgotothetheatreto-night，Dorian，saidHallward。Stopanddinewithme。

Ican’t，Basil。

Why？

BecauseIhavepromisedLordHenryWottontogowithhim。

Hewon’tlikeyouthebetterforkeepingyourpromises。Healwaysbreakshisown。Ibegyounottogo。

DorianGraylaughedandshookhishead。