selected prose of oscar wilde-第13节

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evidently　happened　to　the　spectre；　for　the　light　had　entirely　faded

from　its　hollow　eyes；　the　gleaming　falchion　had　fallen　from　its

hand；　and　it　was　leaning　up　against　the　wall　in　a　strained　and

uncomfortable　attitude。　　He　rushed　forward　and　seized　it　in　his

arms；　when；　to　his　horror；　the　head　slipped　off　and　rolled　on　the

floor；　the　body　assumed　a　recumbent　posture；　and　he　found　himself

clasping　a　white　dimity　bed…curtain；　with　a　sweeping…brush；　a

kitchen　cleaver；　and　a　hollow　turnip　lying　at　his　feet！The

Canterville　Ghost







THE　GARDEN　OF　DEATH







'Far　away　beyond　the　pine…woods；'　he　answered；　in　a　low　dreamy

voice；　'there　is　a　little　garden。　　There　the　grass　grows　long　and

deep；　there　are　the　great　white　stars　of　the　hemlock　flower；　there

the　nightingale　sings　all　night　long。　　All　night　long　he　sings；　and

the　cold；　crystal　moon　looks　down；　and　the　yew…tree　spreads　out　its

giant　arms　over　the　sleepers。'



Virginia's　eyes　grew　dim　with　tears；　and　she　hid　her　face　in　her

hands。



'You　mean　the　Garden　of　Death；'　she　whispered。



'Yes；　Death。　　Death　must　be　so　beautiful。　　To　lie　in　the　soft　brown

earth；　with　the　grasses　waving　above　one's　head；　and　listen　to

silence。　　To　have　no　yesterday；　and　no　to…morrow。　　To　forget　time；

to　forgive　life；　to　be　at　peace。　　You　can　help　me。　　You　can　open　for

me　the　portals　of　Death's　house；　for　Love　is　always　with　you；　and

Love　is　stronger　than　Death　is。'



Virginia　trembled；　a　cold　shudder　ran　through　her；　and　for　a　few

moments　there　was　silence。　　She　felt　as　if　she　was　in　a　terrible

dream。



Then　the　Ghost　spoke　again；　and　his　voice　sounded　like　the　sighing

of　the　wind。



'Have　you　ever　read　the　old　prophecy　on　the　library　window？'



'Oh；　often；'　cried　the　little　girl；　looking　up；　'I　know　it　quite

well。　　It　is　painted　in　curious　black　letters；　and　it　is　difficult

to　read。　　There　are　only　six　lines：





When　a　golden　girl　can　win

Prayer　from　out　the　lips　of　sin；

When　the　barren　almond　bears；

And　a　little　child　gives　away　its　tears；

Then　shall　all　the　house　be　still

And　peace　come　to　Canterville。





But　I　don't　know　what　they　mean。'



'They　mean；'　he　said　sadly；　'that　you　must　weep　for　me　for　my　sins；

because　I　have　no　tears；　and　pray　with　me　for　my　soul；　because　I

have　no　faith；　and　then；　if　you　have　always　been　sweet；　and　good；

and　gentle；　the　Angel　of　Death　will　have　mercy　on　me。　　You　will　see

fearful　shapes　in　darkness；　and　wicked　voices　will　whisper　in　your

ear；　but　they　will　not　harm　you；　for　against　the　purity　of　a　little

child　the　powers　of　Hell　cannot　prevail。'



Virginia　made　no　answer；　and　the　Ghost　wrung　his　hands　in　wild

despair　as　he　looked　down　at　her　bowed　golden　head。　　Suddenly　she

stood　up；　very　pale；　and　with　a　strange　light　in　her　eyes。　　'I　am

not　afraid；'　she　said　firmly；　'and　I　will　ask　the　Angel　to　have

mercy　on　you。'



He　rose　from　his　seat　with　a　faint　cry　of　joy；　and　taking　her　hand

bent　over　it　with　old…fashioned　grace　and　kissed　it。　　His　fingers

were　as　cold　as　ice；　and　his　lips　burned　like　fire；　but　Virginia　did

not　falter；　as　he　led　her　across　the　dusky　room。　　On　the　faded　green

tapestry　were　broidered　little　huntsmen。　　They　blew　their　tasselled

horns　and　with　their　tiny　hands　waved　to　her　to　go　back。　　'Go　back！

little　Virginia；'　they　cried；　'go　back！'　but　the　Ghost　clutched　her

hand　more　tightly；　and　she　shut　her　eyes　against　them。　　Horrible

animals　with　lizard　tails；　and　goggle　eyes；　blinked　at　her　from　the

carven　chimney…piece；　and　murmured　'Beware！　little　Virginia；　beware！

we　may　never　see　you　again；'　but　the　Ghost　glided　on　more　swiftly；

and　Virginia　did　not　listen。　　When　they　reached　the　end　of　the　room

he　stopped；　and　muttered　some　words　she　could　not　understand。　　She

opened　her　eyes；　and　saw　the　wall　slowly　fading　away　like　a　mist；

and　a　great　black　cavern　in　front　of　her。　　A　bitter　cold　wind　swept

round　them；　and　she　felt　something　pulling　at　her　dress。　　'Quick；

quick；'　cried　the　Ghost；　'or　it　will　be　too　late；'　and；　in　a　moment；

the　wainscoting　had　closed　behind　them；　and　the　Tapestry　Chamber　was

empty。The　Canterville　Ghost







AN　ETON　KIT…CAT







〃Well；〃　said　Erskine；　lighting　a　cigarette；　〃I　must　begin　by　telling

you　about　Cyril　Graham　himself。　　He　and　I　were　at　the　same　house　at

Eton。　　I　was　a　year　or　two　older　than　he　was；　but　we　were　immense

friends；　and　did　all　our　work　and　all　our　play　together。　　There　was；

of　course；　a　good　deal　more　play　than　work；　but　I　cannot　say　that　I

am　sorry　for　that。　　It　is　always　an　advantage　not　to　have　received　a

sound　commercial　education；　and　what　I　learned　in　the　playing　fields

at　Eton　has　been　quite　as　useful　to　me　as　anything　I　was　taught　at

Cambridge。　　I　should　tell　you　that　Cyril's　father　and　mother　were

both　dead。　　They　had　been　drowned　in　a　horrible　yachting　accident

off　the　Isle　of　Wight。　　His　father　had　been　in　the　diplomatic

service；　and　had　married　a　daughter；　the　only　daughter；　in　fact；　of

old　Lord　Crediton；　who　became　Cyril's　guardian　after　the　death　of

his　parents。　　I　don't　think　that　Lord　Crediton　cared　very　much　for

Cyril。　　He　had　never　really　forgiven　his　daughter　for　marrying　a　man

who　had　not　a　title。　　He　was　an　extraordinary　old　aristocrat；　who

swore　like　a　costermonger；　and　had　the　manners　of　a　farmer。　　I

remember　seeing　him　once　on　Speech…day。　　He　growled　at　me；　gave　me　a

sovereign；　and　told　me　not　to　grow　up　〃a　damned　Radical〃　like　my

father。　　Cyril　had　very　little　affection　for　him；　and　was　only　too

glad　to　spend　most　of　his　holidays　with　us　in　Scotland。　　They　never

really　got　on　together　at　all。　　Cyril　thought　him　a　bear；　and　he

thought　Cyril　effeminate。　　He　was　effeminate；　I　suppose；　in　some

things；　though　he　was　a　very　good　rider　and　a　capital　fencer。　　In

fact　he　got　the　foils　before　he　left　Eton。　　But　he　was　very　languid

in　his　manner；　and　not　a　little　vain　of　his　good　looks；　and　had　a

strong　objection　to　football。　　The　two　things　that　really　gave　him

pleasure　were　poetry　and　acting。　　At　Eton　he　was　always　dressing　up

and　reciting　Shakespeare；　and　when　he　went　up　to　Trinity　he　became　a

member　of　the　A。D。C。　his　first　term。　　I　remember　I　was　always　very

jealous　of　his　acting。　　I　was　absurdly　devoted　to　him；　I　suppose

because　we　were　so　different　in　some　things。　　I　was　a　rather

awkward；　weakly　lad；　with　huge　feet；　and　horribly　freckled。

Freckles　run　in　Scotch　families　just　as　gout　does　in　English

families。　　Cyril　used　to　say　that　of　the　two　he　preferred　the　gout；

but　he　always　set　an　absurdly　high　value　on　personal　appearance；　and

once　read　a　paper　before　our　debating　society　to　prove　that　it　was

better　to　be　good…looking　than　to　be　good。　　He　certainly　was

wonderfully　handsome。　　People　who　did　not　like　him；　Philistines　and

college　tutors；　and　young　men　reading　for　the　Church；　used　to　say

that　he　was　merely　pretty；　but　there　was　a　great　deal　more　in　his

face　than　mere　prettiness。　　I　think　he　was　the　most　splendid

creature　I　ever　saw；　and　nothing　could　exceed　the　grace　of　his

movements；　the　charm　of　his　manner。　　He　fascinated　everybody　who　was

worth　fascinating；　and　a　great　many　people　who　were　not。　　He　was

often　wilful　and　petulant；　and　I　used　to　think　him　dreadfully

insincere。　　It　was　due；　I　think；　chiefly　to　his　inordinate　desire　to

please。　　Poor　Cyril！　　I　told　him　once　that　he　was　contented　with

very　cheap　triumphs；　but　he　only　laughed。　　He　was　horribly　spoiled。

All　charming　people；　I　fancy；　are　spoiled。　　It　is　the　secret　of

their　attraction。



〃However；　I　must　tell　you　about　Cyril's　acting。　　You　know　that　no

actresses　are　allowed　to　play　at　the　A。D。C。　　At　least　they　were　not

in　my　time。　　I　don't　know　how　it　is　now。　　Well；　of　course；　Cyril　was

always　cast　for　the　girls'　parts；　and　when　As　You　Like　It　was

produced　he　played　Rosalind。　　It　was　a　marvellous　performance。　　In

fact；　Cyril　Graham　was　the　only　perfect　Rosalind　I　have　ever　seen。

It　would　be　impossible　to　describe　to　you　the　beauty；　the　delicacy；

the　refinement　of　the　whole　thing。　　It　made　an　immense　sensation；

and　the　horrid　little　theatre；　as　it　was　then；　was　crowded　every

night。　　Even　when　I　read　the　play　now　I　can't　help　thinking　of

Cyril。　　It　might　have　been　written　for　him。　　The　next　term　he　took

his　degree；　and　came　to　London　to　read　for　the　diplomatic。　　But　he

never　did　any　work。　　He　spent　his　days　in　reading　Shakespeare's

Sonnets；　and　his　evenings　at　the　theatre。　　He　was；　of　course；　wild

to　go　on　the　stage。　　It　was　all　that　I　and　Lord　Crediton　could　do　to

prevent　him。　　Perhaps　if　he　had　gone　on　the　stage　he　would　be　alive

now。　　It　is　always　a　silly　thing　to　give　advice；　but　to　give　good

advice　is　absolutely　fatal。　　I　hope　you　will　never　fall　into　that

error。　　If　you　do；　you　will　be　sorry　for　it。〃The　Portrait　of　Mr。

W。　H。







MRS。　ERLYNNE　EXERCISES　THE　PREROGATIVE　OF　A　GRANDMOTHER







Lady　Windermere；　before　Heaven　your　husband　is　g