道林格雷的画像_奥斯卡·王尔德-第19节

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uisite　to　me。　i　heard　them　hissing；　and　i　smiled。　what　could　they　know　of　love　such　as　ours？　take　me　away；　doriantake　me　away　with　you；　where　we　can　be　quite　alone。　i　hate　the　stage。　i　might　mimic　a　passion　that　i　do　not　feel；　but　i　cannot　mimic　one　that　burns　me　like　fire。　oh；　dorian；　dorian；　you　understand　now　what　it　signifies？　even　if　i　could　do　it；　it　would　be　profanation　for　me　to　play　at　being　in　love。　you　have　made　me　see　that。〃

he　flung　himself　down　on　the　sofa　and　turned　away　his　face。　〃you　have　killed　my　love；〃　he　muttered。

she　looked　at　him　in　wonder　and　laughed。　he　made　no　answer。　she　came　across　to　him；　and　with　her　little　fingers　stroked　his　hair。　she　knelt　down　and　pressed　his　hands　to　her　lips。　he　drew　them　away；　and　a　shudder　ran　through　him。

then　he　leaped　up　and　went　to　the　door。　〃yes；〃　he　cried；　〃you　have　killed　my　love。　you　used　to　stir　my　imagination。　now　you　dont　even　stir　my　curiosity。　you　simply　produce　no　effect。　i　loved　you　because　you　were　marvellous；　because　you　had　genius　and　intellect；　because　you　realized　the　dreams　of　great　poets　and　gave　shape　and　substance　to　the　shadows　of　art。　you　have　thrown　it　all　away。　you　are　shallow　and　stupid。　my　god！　how　mad　i　was　to　love　you！　what　a　fool　i　have　been！　you　are　nothing　to　me　now。　i　will　never　see　you　again。　i　will　never　think　of　you。　i　will　never　mention　your　name。　you　dont　know　what　you　were　to　me；　once。　why；　once　。　。　。　oh；　i　cant　bear　to　think　of　it！　i　wish　i　had　never　laid　eyes　upon　you！　you　have　spoiled　the　romance　of　my　life。　how　little　you　can　know　of　love；　if　you　say　it　mars　your　art！　without　your　art；　you　are　nothing。　i　would　have　made　you　famous；　splendid；　magnificent。　the　world　would　have　worshipped　you；　and　you　would　have　borne　my　name。　what　are　you　now？　a　third…rate　actress　with　a　pretty　face。〃

the　girl　grew　white；　and　trembled。　she　clenched　her　hands　together；　and　her　voice　seemed　to　catch　in　her　throat。　〃you　are　not　serious；　dorian？〃　she　murmured。　〃you　are　acting。〃

〃acting！　i　leave　that　to　you。　you　do　it　so　well；〃　he　answered　bitterly。

she　rose　from　her　knees　and；　with　a　piteous　expression　of　pain　in　her　face；　came　across　the　room　to　him。　she　put　her　hand　upon　his　arm　and　looked　into　his　eyes。　he　thrust　her　back。　〃dont　touch　me！〃　he　cried。

a　low　moan　broke　from　her；　and　she　flung　herself　at　his　feet　and　lay　there　like　a　trampled　flower。　〃dorian；　dorian；　dont　leave　me！〃　she　whispered。　〃i　am　so　sorry　i　didnt　act　well。　i　was　thinking　of　you　all　the　time。　but　i　will　tryindeed；　i　will　try。　it　came　so　suddenly　across　me；　my　love　for　you。　i　think　i　should　never　have　known　it　if　you　had　not　kissed　me　if　we　had　not　kissed　each　other。　kiss　me　again；　my　love。　dont　go　away　from　me。　i　couldnt　bear　it。　oh！　dont　go　away　from　me。　my　brother　。　。　。　no；　never　mind。　he　didnt　mean　it。　he　was　in　jest。　。　。　。　but　you；　oh！　cant　you　forgive　me　for　to…night？　i　will　work　so　hard　and　try　to　improve。　dont　be　cruel　to　me；　because　i　love　you　better　than　anything　in　the　world。　after　all；　it　is　only　once　that　i　have　not　pleased　you。　but　you　are　quite　right；　dorian。　i　should　have　shown　myself　more　of　an　artist。　it　was　foolish　of　me；　and　yet　i　couldnt　help　it。　oh；　dont　leave　me；　dont　leave　me。〃　a　fit　of　passionate　sobbing　choked　her。　she　crouched　on　the　floor　like　a　wounded　thing；　and　dorian　gray；　with　his　beautiful　eyes；　looked　down　at　her；　and　his　chiselled　lips　curled　in　exquisite　disdain。　there　is　always　something　ridiculous　about　the　emotions　of　people　whom　one　has　ceased　to　love。　sibyl　vane　seemed　to　him　to　be　absurdly　melodramatic。　her　tears　and　sobs　annoyed　him。

〃i　am　going；〃　he　said　at　last　in　his　calm　clear　voice。　〃i　dont　wish　to　be　unkind；　but　i　cant　see　you　again。　you　have　disappointed　me。〃

she　wept　silently；　and　made　no　answer；　but　crept　nearer。　her　little　hands　stretched　blindly　out；　and　appeared　to　be　seeking　for　him。　he　turned　on　his　heel　and　left　the　room。　in　a　few　moments　he　was　out　of　the　theatre。

where　he　went　to　he　hardly　knew。　he　remembered　wandering　through　dimly　lit　streets；　past　gaunt；　black…shadowed　archways　and　evil…looking　houses。　women　with　hoarse　voices　and　harsh　laughter　had　called　after　him。　drunkards　had　reeled　by；　cursing　and　chattering　to　themselves　like　monstrous　apes。　he　had　seen　grotesque　children　huddled　upon　door…steps；　and　heard　shrieks　and　oaths　from　gloomy　courts。

as　the　dawn　was　just　breaking；　he　found　himself　close　to　covent　garden。　the　darkness　lifted；　and；　flushed　with　faint　fires；　the　sky　hollowed　itself　into　a　perfect　pearl。　huge　carts　filled　with　nodding　lilies　rumbled　slowly　down　the　polished　empty　street。　the　air　was　heavy　with　the　perfume　of　the　flowers；　and　their　beauty　seemed　to　bring　him　an　anodyne　for　his　pain。　he　followed　into　the　market　and　watched　the　men　unloading　their　waggons。　a　white…smocked　carter　offered　him　some　cherries。　he　thanked　him；　wondered　why　he　refused　to　accept　any　money　for　them；　and　began　to　eat　them　listlessly。　they　had　been　plucked　at　midnight；　and　the　coldness　of　the　moon　had　entered　into　them。　a　long　line　of　boys　carrying　crates　of　striped　tulips；　and　of　yellow　and　red　roses；　defiled　in　front　of　him；　threading　their　way　through　the　huge；　jade…green　piles　of　vegetables。　under　the　portico；　with　its　grey；　sun…bleached　pillars；　loitered　a　troop　of　draggled　bareheaded　girls；　waiting　for　the　auction　to　be　over。　others　crowded　round　the　swinging　doors　of　the　coffee…house　in　the　piazza。　the　heavy　cart…horses　slipped　and　stamped　upon　the　rough　stones；　shaking　their　bells　and　trappings。　some　of　the　drivers　were　lying　asleep　on　a　pile　of　sacks。　iris…necked　and　pink…footed；　the　pigeons　ran　about　picking　up　seeds。

after　a　little　while；　he　hailed　a　hansom　and　drove　home。　for　a　few　moments　he　loitered　upon　the　doorstep；　looking　round　at　the　silent　square；　with　its　blank；　close…shuttered　windows　and　its　staring　blinds。　the　sky　was　pure　opal　now；　and　the　roofs　of　the　houses　glistened　like　silver　against　it。　from　some　chimney　opposite　a　thin　wreath　of　smoke　was　rising。　it　curled；　a　violet　riband；　through　the　nacre…coloured　air。

in　the　huge　gilt　venetian　lantern；　spoil　of　some　doges　barge；　that　hung　from　the　ceiling　of　the　great；　oak…panelled　hall　of　entrance；　lights　were　still　burning　from　three　flickering　jets：　thin　blue　petals　of　flame　they　seemed；　rimmed　with　white　fire。　he　turned　them　out　and；　having　thrown　his　hat　and　cape　on　the　table；　passed　through　the　library　towards　the　door　of　his　bedroom；　a　large　octagonal　chamber　on　the　ground　floor　that；　in　his　new…born　feeling　for　luxury；　he　had　just　had　decorated　for　himself　and　hung　with　some　curious　renaissance　tapestries　that　had　been　discovered　stored　in　a　disused　attic　at　selby　royal。　as　he　was　turning　the　handle　of　the　door；　his　eye　fell　upon　the　portrait　basil　hallward　had　painted　of　him。　he　started　back　as　if　in　surprise。　then　he　went　on　into　his　own　room；　looking　somewhat　puzzled。　after　he　had　taken　the　button…hole　out　of　his　coat；　he　seemed　to　hesitate。　finally；　he　came　back；　went　over　to　the　picture；　and　examined　it。　in　the　dim　arrested　light　that　struggled　through　the　cream…coloured　silk　blinds；　the　face　appeared　to　him　to　be　a　little　changed。　the　expression　looked　different。　one　would　have　said　that　there　was　a　touch　of　cruelty　in　the　mouth。　it　was　certainly　strange。

he　turned　round　and；　walking　to　the　window；　drew　up　the　blind。　the　bright　dawn　flooded　the　room　and　swept　the　fantastic　shadows　into　dusky　corners；　where　they　lay　shuddering。　but　the　strange　expression　that　he　had　noticed　in　the　face　of　the　portrait　seemed　to　linger　there；　to　be　more　intensified　even。　the　quivering　ardent　sunlight　showed　him　the　lines　of　cruelty　round　the　mouth　as　clearly　as　if　he　had　been　looking　into　a　mirror　after　he　had　done　some　dreadful　thing。

he　winced　and；　taking　up　from　the　table　an　oval　glass　framed　in　ivory　cupids；　one　of　lord　henrys　many　presents　to　him；　glanced　hurriedly　into　its　polished　depths。　no　line　like　that　warped　his　red　lips。　what　did　it　mean？

he　rubbed　his　eyes；　and　came　close　to　the　picture；　and　examined　it　again。　there　were　no　signs　of　any　change　when　he　looked　into　the　actual　painting；　and　yet　there　was　no　doubt　that　the　whole　expression　had　altered。　it　was　not　a　mere　fancy　of　his　own。　the　thing　was　horribly　apparent。

he　threw　himself　into　a　chair　and　began　to　think。　suddenly　there　flashed　across　his　mind　what　he　had　said　in　basil　hallwards　studio　the　day　the　picture　had　been　finished。　yes；　he　remembered　it　perfectly。　he　had　uttered　a　mad　wish　that　he　himself　might　remain　young；　and　the　portrait　grow　old；　that　his　own　beauty　might　be　untarnished；　and　the　face　on　the　canvas　bear　the　burden　of　his　passions　and　his　sins；　that　the　painted　image　might　be　seared　with　the　lines　of　suffering　and　thought；　and　that　he　might　keep　all　the　delicate　bloom　and　loveliness　of　his　then　just　conscious　boyhood。　surely　his　wish　had　not　been　fulfilled？　such　things　were　impossible。　it　seemed　monstrous　even　to　think　of　them。　and；　yet；　there　was　the　picture　before　him；　with　the　touch　of　cruelty　in　the　mouth。

cruelty！　had　he　been　cruel？　it　was　the　girls　fault；　not　his。　he　had　dreamed　of　her　as　a　great　artist；　had　given　his　love　to　her　because　he　had　thought　her　great。　then　she　had　disappointed　him。　she　had　been　shallow　and　unw