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〃i dont believe that; harry; and i dont believe you do either。 however; whatever was my motiveand it may have been pride; for i used to be very proudi certainly struggled to the door。 there; of course; i stumbled against lady brandon。 you are not going to run away so soon; mr。 hallward? she screamed out。 you know her curiously shrill voice?〃
〃yes; she is a peacock in everything but beauty;〃 said lord henry; pulling the daisy to bits with his long nervous fingers。
〃i could not get rid of her。 she brought me up to royalties; and people with stars and garters; and elderly ladies with gigantic tiaras and parrot noses。 she spoke of me as her dearest friend。 i had only met her once before; but she took it into her head to lionize me。 i believe some picture of mine had made a great success at the time; at least had been chattered about in the penny newspapers; which is the nineteenth…century standard of immortality。 suddenly i found myself face to face with the young man whose personality had so strangely stirred me。 we were quite close; almost touching。 our eyes met again。 it was reckless of me; but i asked lady brandon to introduce me to him。 perhaps it was not so reckless; after all。 it was simply inevitable。 we would have spoken to each other without any introduction。 i am sure of that。 dorian told me so afterwards。 he; too; felt that we were destined to know each other。〃
〃and how did lady brandon describe this wonderful young man?〃 asked his panion。 〃i know she goes in for giving a rapid precis of all her guests。 i remember her bringing me up to a truculent and red…faced old gentleman covered all over with orders and ribbons; and hissing into my ear; in a tragic whisper which must have been perfectly audible to everybody in the room; the most astounding details。 i simply fled。 i like to find out people for myself。 but lady brandon treats her guests exactly as an auctioneer treats his goods。 she either explains them entirely away; or tells one everything about them except what one wants to know。〃
〃poor lady brandon! you are hard on her; harry!〃 said hallward listlessly。
〃my dear fellow; she tried to found a salon; and only succeeded in opening a restaurant。 how could i admire her? but tell me; what did she say about mr。 dorian gray?〃
〃oh; something like; charming boypoor dear mother and i absolutely inseparable。 quite forget what he doesafraid he doesnt do anythingoh; yes; plays the pianoor is it the violin; dear mr。 gray? neither of us could help laughing; and we became friends at once。〃
〃laughter is not at all a bad beginning for a friendship; and it is far the best ending for one;〃 said the young lord; plucking another daisy。
hallward shook his head。 〃you dont understand what friendship is; harry;〃 he murmured〃or what enmity is; for that matter。 you like every one; that is to say; you are indifferent to every one。〃
〃how horribly unjust of you!〃 cried lord henry; tilting his hat back and looking up at the little clouds that; like ravelled skeins of glossy white silk; were drifting across the hollowed turquoise of the summer sky。 〃yes; horribly unjust of you。 i make a great difference between people。 i choose my friends for their good looks; my acquaintances for their good characters; and my enemies for their good intellects。 a man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies。 i have not got one who is a fool。 they are all men of some intellectual power; and consequently they all appreciate me。 is that very vain of me? i think it is rather vain。〃
〃i should think it was; harry。 but according to your category i must be merely an acquaintance。〃
〃my dear old basil; you are much more than an acquaintance。〃
〃and much less than a friend。 a sort of brother; i suppose?〃
〃oh; brothers! i dont care for brothers。 my elder brother wont die; and my younger brothers seem never to do anything else。〃
〃harry!〃 exclaimed hallward; frowning。
〃my dear fellow; i am not quite serious。 but i cant help detesting my relations。 i suppose it es from the fact that none of us can stand other people having the same faults as ourselves。 i quite sympathize with the rage of the english democracy against what they call the vices of the upper orders。 the masses feel that drunkenness; stupidity; and immorality should be their own special property; and that if any one of us makes an ass of himself; he is poaching on their preserves。 when poor southwark got into the divorce court; their indignation was quite magnificent。 and yet i dont suppose that ten per cent of the proletariat live correctly。〃
〃i dont agree with a single word that you have said; and; what is more; harry; i feel sure you dont either。〃
lord henry stroked his pointed brown beard and tapped the toe of his patent…leather boot with a tasselled ebony cane。 〃how english you are basil! that is the second time you have made that observation。 if one puts forward an idea to a true englishmanalways a rash thing to dohe never dreams of considering whether the idea is right or wrong。 the only thing he considers of any importance is whether one believes it oneself。 now; the value of an idea has nothing whatsoever to do with the sincerity of the man who expresses it。 indeed; the probabilities are that the more insincere the man is; the more purely intellectual will the idea be; as in that case it will not be coloured by either his wants; his desires; or his prejudices。 however; i dont propose to discuss politics; sociology; or metaphysics with you。 i like persons better than principles; and i like persons with no principles better than anything else in the world。 tell me more about mr。 dorian gray。 how often do you see him?〃
〃every day。 i couldnt be happy if i didnt see him every day。 he is absolutely necessary to me。〃
〃how extraordinary! i thought you would never care for anything but your art。〃
〃he is all my art to me now;〃 said the painter gravely。 〃i sometimes think; harry; that there are only two eras of any importance in the worlds history。 the first is the appearance of a new medium for art; and the second is the appearance of a new personality for art also。 what the invention of oil…painting was to the venetians; the face of antinous was to late greek sculpture; and the face of dorian gray will some day be to me。 it is not merely that i paint from him; draw from him; sketch from him。 of course; i have done all that。 but he is much more to me than a model or a sitter。 i wont tell you that i am dissatisfied with what i have done of him; or that his beauty is such that art cannot express it。 there is nothing that art cannot express; and i know that the work i have done; since i met dorian gray; is good work; is the best work of my life。 but in some curious wayi wonder will you understand me?his personality has suggested to me an entirely new manner in art; an entirely new mode of style。 i see things differently; i think of them differently。 i can now recreate life in a way that was hidden from me before。 a dream of form in days of thoughtwho is it who says that? i forget; but it is what dorian gray has been to me。 the merely visible presence of this ladfor he seems to me little more than a lad; though he is really over twenty his merely visible p