道林格雷的画像_奥斯卡·王尔德-第13节

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ed　to　this　white　girl　and　bowed　in　worship　before　her。　to　a　large　extent　the　lad　was　his　own　creation。　he　had　made　him　premature。　that　was　something。　ordinary　people　waited　till　life　disclosed　to　them　its　secrets；　but　to　the　few；　to　the　elect；　the　mysteries　of　life　were　revealed　before　the　veil　was　drawn　away。　sometimes　this　was　the　effect　of　art；　and　chiefly　of　the　art　of　literature；　which　dealt　immediately　with　the　passions　and　the　intellect。　but　now　and　then　a　plex　personality　took　the　place　and　assumed　the　office　of　art；　was　indeed；　in　its　way；　a　real　work　of　art；　life　having　its　elaborate　masterpieces；　just　as　poetry　has；　or　sculpture；　or　painting。

yes；　the　lad　was　premature。　he　was　gathering　his　harvest　while　it　was　yet　spring。　the　pulse　and　passion　of　youth　were　in　him；　but　he　was　being　self…conscious。　it　was　delightful　to　watch　him。　with　his　beautiful　face；　and　his　beautiful　soul；　he　was　a　thing　to　wonder　at。　it　was　no　matter　how　it　all　ended；　or　was　destined　to　end。　he　was　like　one　of　those　gracious　figures　in　a　pageant　or　a　play；　whose　joys　seem　to　be　remote　from　one；　but　whose　sorrows　stir　ones　sense　of　beauty；　and　whose　wounds　are　like　red　roses。

soul　and　body；　body　and　soulhow　mysterious　they　were！　there　was　animalism　in　the　soul；　and　the　body　had　its　moments　of　spirituality。　the　senses　could　refine；　and　the　intellect　could　degrade。　who　could　say　where　the　fleshly　impulse　ceased；　or　the　psychical　impulse　began？　how　shallow　were　the　arbitrary　definitions　of　ordinary　psychologists！　and　yet　how　difficult　to　decide　between　the　claims　of　the　various　schools！　was　the　soul　a　shadow　seated　in　the　house　of　sin？　or　was　the　body　really　in　the　soul；　as　giordano　bruno　thought？　the　separation　of　spirit　from　matter　was　a　mystery；　and　the　union　of　spirit　with　matter　was　a　mystery　also。

he　began　to　wonder　whether　we　could　ever　make　psychology　so　absolute　a　science　that　each　little　spring　of　life　would　be　revealed　to　us。　as　it　was；　we　always　misunderstood　ourselves　and　rarely　understood　others。　experience　was　of　no　ethical　value。　it　was　merely　the　name　men　gave　to　their　mistakes。　moralists　had；　as　a　rule；　regarded　it　as　a　mode　of　warning；　had　claimed　for　it　a　certain　ethical　efficacy　in　the　formation　of　character；　had　praised　it　as　something　that　taught　us　what　to　follow　and　showed　us　what　to　avoid。　but　there　was　no　motive　power　in　experience。　it　was　as　little　of　an　active　cause　as　conscience　itself。　all　that　it　really　demonstrated　was　that　our　future　would　be　the　same　as　our　past；　and　that　the　sin　we　had　done　once；　and　with　loathing；　we　would　do　many　times；　and　with　joy。

it　was　clear　to　him　that　the　experimental　method　was　the　only　method　by　which　one　could　arrive　at　any　scientific　analysis　of　the　passions；　and　certainly　dorian　gray　was　a　subject　made　to　his　hand；　and　seemed　to　promise　rich　and　fruitful　results。　his　sudden　mad　love　for　sibyl　vane　was　a　psychological　phenomenon　of　no　small　interest。　there　was　no　doubt　that　curiosity　had　much　to　do　with　it；　curiosity　and　the　desire　for　new　experiences；　yet　it　was　not　a　simple；　but　rather　a　very　plex　passion。　what　there　was　in　it　of　the　purely　sensuous　instinct　of　boyhood　had　been　transformed　by　the　workings　of　the　imagination；　changed　into　something　that　seemed　to　the　lad　himself　to　be　remote　from　sense；　and　was　for　that　very　reason　all　the　more　dangerous。　it　was　the　passions　about　whose　origin　we　deceived　ourselves　that　tyrannized　most　strongly　over　us。　our　weakest　motives　were　those　of　whose　nature　we　were　conscious。　it　often　happened　that　when　we　thought　we　were　experimenting　on　others　we　were　really　experimenting　on　ourselves。

while　lord　henry　sat　dreaming　on　these　things；　a　knock　came　to　the　door；　and　his　valet　entered　and　reminded　him　it　was　time　to　dress　for　dinner。　he　got　up　and　looked　out　into　the　street。　the　sunset　had　smitten　into　scarlet　gold　the　upper　windows　of　the　houses　opposite。　the　panes　glowed　like　plates　of　heated　metal。　the　sky　above　was　like　a　faded　rose。　he　thought　of　his　friends　young　fiery…coloured　life　and　wondered　how　it　was　all　going　to　end。

when　he　arrived　home；　about　half…past　twelve　oclock；　he　saw　a　telegram　lying　on　the　hall　table。　he　opened　it　and　found　it　was　from　dorian　gray。　it　was　to　tell　him　that　he　was　engaged　to　be　married　to　sibyl　vane。

w　w　w/xiao　shu　otx　t



Chapter　5

灏彛昏�磘；xt；澶�；鍫�
chapter　5

〃mother；　mother；　i　am　so　happy！〃　whispered　the　girl；　burying　her　face　in　the　lap　of　the　faded；　tired…looking　woman　who；　with　back　turned　to　the　shrill　intrusive　light；　was　sitting　in　the　one　arm…chair　that　their　dingy　sitting…room　contained。　〃i　am　so　happy！〃　she　repeated；　〃and　you　must　be　happy；　too！〃

mrs。　vane　winced　and　put　her　thin；　bismuth…whitened　hands　on　her　daughters　head。　〃happy！〃　she　echoed；　〃i　am　only　happy；　sibyl；　when　i　see　you　act。　you　must　not　think　of　anything　but　your　acting。　mr。　isaacs　has　been　very　good　to　us；　and　we　owe　him　money。〃

the　girl　looked　up　and　pouted。　〃money；　mother？〃　she　cried；　〃what　does　money　matter？　love　is　more　than　money。〃

〃mr。　isaacs　has　advanced　us　fifty　pounds　to　pay　off　our　debts　and　to　get　a　proper　outfit　for　james。　you　must　not　forget　that；　sibyl。　fifty　pounds　is　a　very　large　sum。　mr。　isaacs　has　been　most　considerate。〃

〃he　is　not　a　gentleman；　mother；　and　i　hate　the　way　he　talks　to　me；〃　said　the　girl；　rising　to　her　feet　and　going　over　to　the　window。

〃i　dont　know　how　we　could　manage　without　him；〃　answered　the　elder　woman　querulously。

sibyl　vane　tossed　her　head　and　laughed。　〃we　dont　want　him　any　more；　mother。　prince　charming　rules　life　for　us　now。〃　then　she　paused。　a　rose　shook　in　her　blood　and　shadowed　her　cheeks。　quick　breath　parted　the　petals　of　her　lips。　they　trembled。　some　southern　wind　of　passion　swept　over　her　and　stirred　the　dainty　folds　of　her　dress。　〃i　love　him；〃　she　said　simply。

〃foolish　child！　foolish　child！〃　was　the　parrot…phrase　flung　in　answer。　the　waving　of　crooked；　false…jewelled　fingers　gave　grotesqueness　to　the　words。

the　girl　laughed　again。　the　joy　of　a　caged　bird　was　in　her　voice。　her　eyes　caught　the　melody　and　echoed　it　in　radiance；　then　closed　for　a　moment；　as　though　to　hide　their　secret。　when　they　opened；　the　mist　of　a　dream　had　passed　across　them。

thin…lipped　wisdom　spoke　at　her　from　the　worn　chair；　hinted　at　prudence；　quoted　from　that　book　of　cowardice　whose　author　apes　the　name　of　mon　sense。　she　did　not　listen。　she　was　free　in　her　prison　of　passion。　her　prince；　prince　charming；　was　with　her。　she　had　called　on　memory　to　remake　him。　she　had　sent　her　soul　to　search　for　him；　and　it　had　brought　him　back。　his　kiss　burned　again　upon　her　mouth。　her　eyelids　were　warm　with　his　breath。

then　wisdom　altered　its　method　and　spoke　of　espial　and　discovery。　this　young　man　might　be　rich。　if　so；　marriage　should　be　thought　of。　against　the　shell　of　her　ear　broke　the　waves　of　worldly　cunning。　the　arrows　of　craft　shot　by　her。　she　saw　the　thin　lips　moving；　and　smiled。

suddenly　she　felt　the　need　to　speak。　the　wordy　silence　troubled　her。　〃mother；　mother；〃　she　cried；　〃why　does　he　love　me　so　much？　i　know　why　i　love　him。　i　love　him　because　he　is　like　what　love　himself　should　be。　but　what　does　he　see　in　me？　i　am　not　worthy　of　him。　and　yetwhy；　i　cannot　tellthough　i　feel　so　much　beneath　him；　i　dont　feel　humble。　i　feel　proud；　terribly　proud。　mother；　did　you　love　my　father　as　i　love　prince　charming？〃

the　elder　woman　grew　pale　beneath　the　coarse　powder　that　daubed　her　cheeks；　and　her　dry　lips　twitched　with　a　spasm　of　pain。　sybil　rushed　to　her；　flung　her　arms　round　her　neck；　and　kissed　her。　〃forgive　me；　mother。　i　know　it　pains　you　to　talk　about　our　father。　but　it　only　pains　you　because　you　loved　him　so　much。　dont　look　so　sad。　i　am　as　happy　to…day　as　you　were　twenty　years　ago。　ah！　let　me　be　happy　for　ever！〃

〃my　child；　you　are　far　too　young　to　think　of　falling　in　love。　besides；　what　do　you　know　of　this　young　man？　you　dont　even　know　his　name。　the　whole　thing　is　most　inconvenient；　and　really；　when　james　is　going　away　to　australia；　and　i　have　so　much　to　think　of；　i　must　say　that　you　should　have　shown　more　consideration。　however；　as　i　said　before；　if　he　is　rich　。　。　。〃

〃ah！　mother；　mother；　let　me　be　happy！〃

mrs。　vane　glanced　at　her；　and　with　one　of　those　false　theatrical　gestures　that　so　often　bee　a　mode　of　second　nature　to　a　stage…player；　clasped　her　in　her　arms。　at　this　moment；　the　door　opened　and　a　young　lad　with　rough　brown　hair　came　into　the　room。　he　was　thick…set　of　figure；　and　his　hands　and　feet　were　large　and　somewhat　clumsy　in　movement。　he　was　not　so　finely　bred　as　his　sister。　one　would　hardly　have　guessed　the　close　relationship　that　existed　between　them。　mrs。　vane　fixed　her　eyes　on　him　and　intensified　her　smile。　she　mentally　elevated　her　son　to　the　dignity　of　an　audience。　she　felt　sure　that　the　tableau　was　interesting。

〃you　might　keep　some　of　your　kisses　for　me；　sibyl；　i　think；〃　said　the　lad　with　a　good…natured　grumble。

〃ah！　but　you　dont　like　being　kissed；　jim；〃　she　cried。　〃you　are　a　dreadful　old　bear。〃　and　she　ran　across　the　room　and　hugged　him。

james　vane　looked　into　his　sisters　face　with　tenderness。　〃i　want　you　to　e　out　with　me　for　a　walk；　sibyl。　i　dont　suppose　i　shall　ever　see　this　horrid　london　again。　i　am　sure　i　dont　want　to。〃

〃my　so