道林格雷的画像_奥斯卡·王尔德- 第19部分

three　oclock　struck；　and　four；　and　the　half…hour　rang　its　double　chime；　but　dorian　gray　did　not　stir。　he　was　trying　to　gather　up　the　scarlet　threads　of　life　and　to　weave　them　into　a　pattern；　to　find　his　way　through　the　sanguine　labyrinth　of　passion　through　which　he　was　wandering。　he　did　not　know　what　to　do；　or　what　to　think。　finally；　he　went　over　to　the　table　and　wrote　a　passionate　letter　to　the　girl　he　had　loved；　imploring　her　forgiveness　and　accusing　himself　of　madness。　he　covered　page　after　page　with　wild　words　of　sorrow　and　wilder　words　of　pain。　there　is　a　luxury　in　self…reproach。　when　we　blame　ourselves；　we　feel　that　no　one　else　has　a　right　to　blame　us。　it　is　the　confession；　not　the　priest；　that　gives　us　absolution。　when　dorian　had　finished　the　letter；　he　felt　that　he　had　been　forgiven。

suddenly　there　came　a　knock　to　the　door；　and　he　heard　lord　henrys　voice　outside。　〃my　dear　boy；　i　must　see　you。　let　me　in　at　once。　i　cant　bear　your　shutting　yourself　up　like　this。〃

he　made　no　answer　at　first；　but　remained　quite　still。　the　knocking　still　continued　and　grew　louder。　yes；　it　was　better　to　let　lord　henry　in；　and　to　explain　to　him　the　new　life　he　was　going　to　lead；　to　quarrel　with　him　if　it　became　necessary　to　quarrel；　to　part　if　parting　was　inevitable。　he　jumped　up；　drew　the　screen　hastily　across　the　picture；　and　unlocked　the　door。

〃i　am　so　sorry　for　it　all；　dorian；〃　said　lord　henry　as　he　entered。　〃but　you　must　not　think　too　much　about　it。〃

〃do　you　mean　about　sibyl　vane？〃　asked　the　lad。

〃yes；　of　course；〃　answered　lord　henry；　sinking　into　a　chair　and　slowly　pulling　off　his　yellow　gloves。　〃it　is　dreadful；　from　one　point　of　view；　but　it　was　not　your　fault。　tell　me；　did　you　go　behind　and　see　her；　after　the　play　was　over？〃

〃yes。〃

〃i　felt　sure　you　had。　did　you　make　a　scene　with　her？〃

〃i　was　brutal；　harryperfectly　brutal。　but　it　is　all　right　now。　i　am　not　sorry　for　anything　that　has　happened。　it　has　taught　me　to　know　myself　better。〃

〃ah；　dorian；　i　am　so　glad　you　take　it　in　that　way！　i　was　afraid　i　would　find　you　plunged　in　remorse　and　tearing　that　nice　curly　hair　of　yours。〃

〃i　have　got　through　all　that；〃　said　dorian；　shaking　his　head　and　smiling。　〃i　am　perfectly　happy　now。　i　know　what　conscience　is；　to　begin　with。　it　is　not　what　you　told　me　it　was。　it　is　the　divinest　thing　in　us。　dont　sneer　at　it；　harry；　any　moreat　least　not　before　me。　i　want　to　be　good。　i　cant　bear　the　idea　of　my　soul　being　hideous。〃

〃a　very　charming　artistic　basis　for　ethics；　dorian！　i　congratulate　you　on　it。　but　how　are　you　going　to　begin？〃

〃by　marrying　sibyl　vane。〃

〃marrying　sibyl　vane！〃　cried　lord　henry；　standing　up　and　looking　at　him　in　perplexed　amazement。　〃but；　my　dear　dorian〃

〃yes；　harry；　i　know　what　you　are　going　to　say。　something　dreadful　about　marriage。　dont　say　it。　dont　ever　say　things　of　that　kind　to　me　again。　two　days　ago　i　asked　sibyl　to　marry　me。　i　am　not　going　to　break　my　word　to　her。　she　is　to　be　my　wife。〃

〃your　wife！　dorian！　。　。　。　didnt　you　get　my　letter？　i　wrote　to　you　this　morning；　and　sent　the　note　down　by　my　own　man。〃

〃your　letter？　oh；　yes；　i　remember。　i　have　not　read　it　yet；　harry。　i　was　afraid　there　might　be　something　in　it　that　i　wouldnt　like。　you　cut　life　to　pieces　with　your　epigrams。〃

〃you　know　nothing　then？〃

〃what　do　you　mean？〃

lord　henry　walked　across　the　room；　and　sitting　down　by　dorian　gray；　took　both　his　hands　in　his　own　and　held　them　tightly。　〃dorian；〃　he　said；　〃my　letterdont　be　frightenedwas　to　tell　you　that　sibyl　vane　is　dead。〃

a　cry　of　pain　broke　from　the　lads　lips；　and　he　leaped　to　his　feet；　tearing　his　hands　away　from　lord　henrys　grasp。　〃dead！　sibyl　dead！　it　is　not　true！　it　is　a　horrible　lie！　how　dare　you　say　it？〃

〃it　is　quite　true；　dorian；〃　said　lord　henry；　gravely。　〃it　is　in　all　the　morning　papers。　i　wrote　down　to　you　to　ask　you　not　to　see　any　one　till　i　came。　there　will　have　to　be　an　inquest；　of　course；　and　you　must　not　be　mixed　up　in　it。　things　like　that　make　a　man　fashionable　in　paris。　but　in　london　people　are　so　prejudiced。　here；　one　should　never　make　ones　d茅but　with　a　scandal。　one　should　reserve　that　to　give　an　interest　to　ones　old　age。　i　suppose　they　dont　know　your　name　at　the　theatre？　if　they　dont；　it　is　all　right。　did　any　one　see　you　going　round　to　her　room？　that　is　an　important　point。〃

dorian　did　not　answer　for　a　few　moments。　he　was　dazed　with　horror。　finally　he　stammered；　in　a　stifled　voice；　〃harry；　did　you　say　an　inquest？　what　did　you　mean　by　that？　did　sibyl？　oh；　harry；　i　cant　bear　it！　but　be　quick。　tell　me　everything　at　once。〃

〃i　have　no　doubt　it　was　not　an　accident；　dorian；　though　it　must　be　put　in　that　way　to　the　public。　it　seems　that　as　she　was　leaving　the　theatre　with　her　mother；　about　half…past　twelve　or　so；　she　said　she　had　forgotten　something　upstairs。　they　waited　some　time　for　her；　but　she　did　not　e　down　again。　they　ultimately　found　her　lying　dead　on　the　floor　of　her　dressing…room。　she　had　swallowed　something　by　mistake；　some　dreadful　thing　they　use　at　theatres。　i　dont　know　what　it　was；　but　it　had　either　prussic　acid　or　white　lead　in　it。　i　should　fancy　it　was　prussic　acid；　as　she　seems　to　have　died　instantaneously。〃

〃harry；　harry；　it　is　terrible！〃　cried　the　lad。

〃yes；　it　is　very　tragic；　of　course；　but　you　must　not　get　yourself　mixed　up　in　it。　i　see　by　the　standard　that　she　was　seventeen。　i　should　have　thought　she　was　almost　younger　than　that。　she　looked　such　a　child；　and　seemed　to　know　so　little　about　acting。　dorian；　you　mustnt　let　this　thing　get　on　your　nerves。　you　must　e　and　dine　with　me；　and　afterwards　we　will　look　in　at　the　opera。　it　is　a　patti　night；　and　everybody　will　be　there。　you　can　e　to　my　sisters　box。　she　has　got　some　smart　women　with　her。〃

〃so　i　have　murdered　sibyl　vane；〃　said　dorian　gray；　half　to　himself；　〃murdered　her　as　surely　as　if　i　had　cut　her　little　throat　with　a　knife。　yet　the　roses　are　not　less　lovely　for　all　that。　the　birds　sing　just　as　happily　in　my　garden。　and　to…night　i　am　to　dine　with　you；　and　then　go　on　to　the　opera；　and　sup　somewhere；　i　suppose；　afterwards。　how　extraordinarily　dramatic　life　is！　if　i　had　read　all　this　in　a　book；　harry；　i　think　i　would　have　wept　over　it。　somehow；　now　that　it　has　happened　actually；　and　to　me；　it　seems　far　too　wonderful　for　tears。　here　is　the　first　passionate　love…letter　i　have　ever　written　in　my　life。　strange；　that　my　first　passionate　love…letter　should　have　been　addressed　to　a　dead　girl。　can　they　feel；　i　wonder；　those　white　silent　people　we　call　the　dead？　sibyl！　can　she　feel；　or　know；　or　listen？　oh；　harry；　how　i　loved　her　once！　it　seems　years　ago　to　me　now。　she　was　everything　to　me。　then　came　that　dreadful　nightwas　it　really　only　last　night？　when　she　played　so　badly；　and　my　heart　almost　broke。　she　explained　it　all　to　me。　it　was　terribly　pathetic。　but　i　was　not　moved　a　bit。　i　thought　her　shallow。　suddenly　something　happened　that　made　me　afraid。　i　cant　tell　you　what　it　was；　but　it　was　terrible。　i　said　i　would　go　back　to　her。　i　felt　i　had　done　wrong。　and　now　she　is　dead。　my　god！　my　god！　harry；　what　shall　i　do？　you　dont　know　the　danger　i　am　in；　and　there　is　nothing　to　keep　me　straight。　she　would　have　done　that　for　me。　she　had　no　right　to　kill　herself。　it　was　selfish　of　her。〃

〃my　dear　dorian；〃　answered　lord　henry；　taking　a　cigarette　from　his　case　and　producing　a　gold…latten　matchbox；　〃the　only　way　a　woman　can　ever　reform　a　man　is　by　boring　him　so　pletely　that　he　loses　all　possible　interest　in　life。　if　you　had　married　this　girl；　you　would　have　been　wretched。　of　course；　you　would　have　treated　her　kindly。　one　can　always　be　kind　to　people　about　whom　one　cares　nothing。　but　she　would　have　soon　found　out　that　you　were　absolutely　indifferent　to　her。　and　when　a　woman　finds　that　out　about　her　husband；　she　either　bees　dreadfully　dowdy；　or　wears　very　smart　bonnets　that　some　other　womans　husband　has　to　pay　for。　i　say　nothing　about　the　social　mistake；　which　would　have　been　abjectwhich；　of　course；　i　would　not　have　allowed　but　i　assure　you　that　in　any　case　the　whole　thing　would　have　been　an　absolute　failure。〃

〃i　suppose　it　would；〃　muttered　the　lad；　walking　up　and　down　the　room　and　looking　horribly　pale。　〃but　i　thought　it　was　my　duty。　it　is　not　my　fault　that　this　terrible　tragedy　has　prevented　my　doing　what　was　right。　i　remember　your　saying　once　that　there　is　a　fatality　about　good　resolutionsthat　they　are　always　made　too　late。　mine　certainly　were。〃　〃good　resolutions　are　useless　attempts　to　interfere　with　scientific　laws。　their　origin　is　pure　vanity。　their　result　is　absolutely　nil。　they　give　us；　now　and　then；　some　of　those　luxurious　sterile　emotions　that　have　a　certain　charm　for　the　weak。　that　is　all　that　can　be　said　for　them。　they　are　simply　cheques　that　men　draw　on　a　bank　where　they　have　no　account。〃

〃harry；〃　cried　dorian　gray；　ing　over　and　sitting　down　beside　him；　〃why　is　it　that　i　cannot　feel　this　tragedy　as　much　as　i　want　to？　i　dont　think　i　am　heartless。　do　you？〃

〃you　have　done　too　many　foolish　things　during　the　last　fortnight　to　be　entitled　to　give　yourself　that　name；　dorian；〃　answered　lord　henry　with　his　sweet　melancholy　smile。

the　lad　frowned。　〃i　dont　like　that　explanation；　harry；〃　he　rejoined；　〃but　i　am　glad　you　dont　think　i　am　heartless。　i　am　nothing　of　the　kind。　i　know　i　am　not。　and　yet　i　must　admit　that　this　thing　that　has　happened　does　not　affect　me　as　it　should。　it　seems　to　me　to　be　simply　like　a　wonderful　ending　to　a　wonderful　play。　it　has　all　the　terrible　beauty　of　a　greek　tragedy；　a　tragedy　in　which　i　took　a　great　part；　but　by　which　i　have　not　been　wounded。〃

〃it　is　an　interesting　question；〃　said　lord　henry；　who　found　an　exquisite　pleasure　in　playing　on　the　lads　unconscious　egotism；　〃an　extremely　interesting　question。　i　fancy　that　the　true　explanation　is　this：　it　often　happens　that　the　real　tragedies　of　life　occur　in　such　an　inartistic　manner　that　they　hurt　us　by　their　crude　violence；　their　absolute　incoherence；　their　absurd　want　of　meaning；　their　entire　lack　of　style。　they　affect　us　just　as　vulgarity　affects　us。　they　give　us　an　impression　of　sheer　brute　force；　and　we　revolt　against　that。　sometimes；　however；　a　tragedy　that　possesses　artistic　elements　of　beauty　crosses　our　lives。　if　these　elements　of　beauty　are　real；　the　whole　thing　simply　appeals　to　our　sense　of　dramatic　eff