[Music] new millennium audio presents the Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde read by Stephen Fry the studio was filled with the rich odor of roses and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac or the more delicate perfume of the pink flowering form from the corner of the divan of persian saddle-bags on which he was lying smoking as was his custom innumerable cigarettes Lord Henry Wotton could just catch the gleam of the honey-sweet and honey-coloured blossoms of a laburnum whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able to bear the burden of a beauty so flame like as theirs and now and then the fantastic shadows of birds in flight flitted across the long to saw silk curtains that was stretched in front of the huge window producing a kind of momentary Japanese effect and making him think of those pallid jade faced painters of Tokyo who through the medium of an art that is necessarily immobile seek to convey the sense of swiftness and motion the sullen murmur of the bees shouldering their way through the long unmown grass or circling with monotonous insistence around the dusty gilt horns of the straggling Woodbine seemed to make the stillness more oppressive the dim roar of London was like the burden note to the distant organ in the centre of the room clamped to an upright easel stood the full-length portrait of a young man of extraordinary personal beauty and in front of it some little distance away was sitting the artist himself basil Hallward whose sudden disappearance some years ago caused at the time such public excitement and gave rise to so many strange conjectures as the painter look the gracious and comely form he had so skillfully mirrored in his art a smile of pleasure passed across his face and seemed about to linger there but he suddenly started up and closing his eyes placed his fingers upon the lids as though he sought to imprison within his brain some curious dream from which he feared he might awake so your best work basil the best thing you've ever done said Lord Henry languidly you must certainly send it next year to the Grosvenor I don't think I shall send it anywhere he answered tossing his head back in that odd way that used to make his friends laugh at him at Oxford Lord Henry elevated his eyebrows and looked at him in amazement through the thin blue weeds of smoke that curled up in such fanciful whorls from his heavy opium tainted cigarette not scented anywhere nothing dear fellow why a portrait like this would set you far above all the young men in England and make the old men quite jealous if old men are ever capable of any emotion I know you will laugh at me he replied but I really can't exhibit it I've put too much of myself into it Lord Henry stretched himself out on the divan and laughed too much of yourself in it upon my word basil I didn't know you were so vain and I really can't see any resemblance between you with your rugged strong face and your cold black hair and this young Adonis who looks as if you were made out of ivory and rose leaves well my dear basil here's an assistance and you well of course you have an intellectual expression and all that but Beauty real Beauty ends where an intellectual expression begins intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration and destroys the harmony of any face your mysterious young friend whose name you have never told me but whose picture merely fascinates me never thinks I feel quite sure of that he is some brainless beautiful creature who should always be here in winter when we have no flowers to look at and always here in summer when we want something to chill our intelligence don't flatter yourself basil you are not in the least like him you don't understand me Harry answered the artist of course I'm not like him I know that perfectly well indeed I should be sorry to look like him there is a fatality about all physical and intellectual distinction the sort of fatality that seems to dog through history the faltering steps of Kings it's better not to be different from one's fellows the ugly and the stupid have the best of it in this world and if they know nothing of victory they are at least spare the knowledge of defeat they live as we all should live undisturbed indifferent and without disquiet they know they bring ruin upon others nor ever receive it from alien hands your rank and wealth Harry my brain such as they are my art whatever it may be worth dorian gray's good looks we should all suffer for what the gods have given us Dorian Gray is that his name asked Lord Henry walking across the studio towards basil Hallward yes that is his name I didn't intend to tell it to you but why not oh I can't explain when I like people immensely I never tell their names to anyone it's like surrendering a part of them I've grown to love secrecy seems to be the one thing that could make Modern Life mysterious or marvelous to us the Communist thing is delightful if one only hides it when I leave town now I never tell my people where I'm going if I did I would lose all my pleasure it's a silly habit I dare say but somehow it seems to bring a great deal of romance into one's life I suppose you think we were awfully foolish about it not at all answered Lord Henry not at all my dear basil you seem to forget that I'm married and the one charm of marriage is that it makes a life of deception absolutely necessary for both parties I hate the way you talk about your married life Harry said basil Hallward strolling towards the door that led into the garden I believe that you are really a very good husband but that you're thoroughly ashamed of your own virtues to an extraordinary fellow you never say a moral thing and never do a wrong thing your cynicism is simply a pose being natural is simply appelles a most irritating pose I know cried Lord Henry laughing and the two young men went out into the garden together and ensconced themselves on a long bamboo seat that stood in the shade of a tall Laurel bush after a pause Lord Henry pulled out his watch I'm afraid I must be going vessel he murmured and before I go I insist on your answering a question I put to you some time ago what is that said the painter keeping his eyes fixed on the ground you know quite well I do not very well I will tell you what it is I want you to explain to me why you won't exhibit Dorian Gray's picture I want the real reason I told you the real reason now you did not you said it was because there was too much of yourself in it now that is childish Harry said basil Hallward looking him straight in the face every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist not of the sitter the sitter is merely the the accident the occasion it is not he who is revealed by the painter it is rather the painter who on the coloured canvas reveals himself the reason I will not exhibit this picture is that I'm afraid that I have shown in it the secret of my own soul Lord Henry laughed and what is that he asked I will tell you said Howard but an expression of perplexity came over his face but I'm afraid he will hardly understand it perhaps you will hardly believe it Lord Henry smiled and leaning down plucked a pink petal Daisy from the grass and examined it I'm quite sure I shall understand it he replied gazing intently at the little golden white feathered disk and as for believing things I can believe anything provided that it is quite incredible the wind shook sand blossoms from the trees and the heavy lilac blooms with their clustering stars moved to and fro in the language air Lord Henry felt as if he could hear basil hallward's heart beating and wondered what was coming the story is simply this said the painter after some time two months ago I went to a crush of lady Brandon's do you know we poor artists have to show ourselves in society from time to time just to remind the public that we are not savages with an evening coat and a white tie as you told me once anybody even a stockbroker can gain a reputation for being civilized well after I've been in the room about ten minutes talking to huge overdressed dowager's and tedious academicians I suddenly became conscious that someone was looking at me I turned half way round and saw Dorian Gray for the first time when our eyes met I felt that I was growing pale a curious sensation of Terror came over me I knew that I had come face to face with someone whose mere personality was so fascinating that if I allowed it to do so it would absorb my whole nature my whole soul my very art itself I did not want any external influence in my life you know yourself Harry how independent I am by nature I have always been my own master had at least always been so till I met Dorian Gray then but I don't know how to explain it to you something seemed to tell me that I was on the verge of a terrible crisis in my life I had a strange feeling that fate had in store for me exquisite joys and exquisite sorrows I grew afraid and turned to quit the room it was not conscience that made me do so it was a sort of cowardice I take no credit to myself for trying to escape conscience and cowardice are really the same things basil conference is the trade name of the firm that's all I don't believe that Harry and I don't believe you do either however whatever was my motive it may have been pride for I used to be very proud I certainly struggled to the door there of course I stumbled against lady Brandon you're not going to run away sale soon mr. Hal won she screamed out you know how 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 boil teas and people with stars and garters and elderly leaders 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 has made a great success at the time at least had been chatted 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 but simply inevitable we would have spoken to each other without any introduction I'm sure of that Dorian tell 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 companion Oh something like charming boy poor dear mother and I absolutely inseparable quite forget what he does afraid he doesn't do anything oh yes plays the piano or is it the violin dear mr. gray neither of us could help laughing 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 how would shook his head you don't understand what friendship is Harry he murmured or what enmity is for that matter you like everyone that is to say you're indifferent to everyone how horribly unjust of you cried Lord Henry tilting his hat back and looking up at the little clouds that like reveled skeins of glossy white silk were drifting across the hallowed 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 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 the sort of brother I suppose and brothers I don't care for brothers my elder brother won't die and my younger brothers seem never to do anything else Harry exclaimed Hallward frowning my dear fellow I'm not quite serious but I can't help detest in my relations I suppose it comes 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 the 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 I don't agree with a single word that you have said and what is more Harry I feel sure you don't either Lord Henry stroked his pointed brown beard and tapped the toe of his patent-leather boot with a tasseled Anthony came how English you are basil that's the second time you've made that observation if one puts forward an idea to a true Englishman always a rash thing to do he 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 colored by either his wants his desires or his prejudices however I didn't 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 couldn't be happy if I didn't 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 it is not merely that I paint from him draw from him sketch from him of course I've done all that but he is much more to me than a model or a sitter I went to do that I'm dissatisfied with what I've done of him all that is beauty is such that art cannot express it there is nothing that are cannot express and I know that the work I've done since I met Dorian Gray his good work is the best work of my life but in some curious way I wonder what 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 him before the merely visible presence of this lad but he seems to me little more than the lad though he is really over 20 his merely visible presence Oh Harry if you only knew what Dorian Gray is to me you remember that landscape of mind which Agni offered me such a huge price but which I would not part with it is one of the best things I've ever done and why is it so because while I was painting it Dorian Gray sat beside me some subtle influence passed from him to me and for the first time in my life I saw in the plain woodland the wonder I had always looked for and always missed basil this is extraordinary I must see Dorian Gray Howard got up from the seat and walked up and down the garden after some time he came back Harry he said Dorian Gray is to me simply emotive in art you might see nothing in him I see everything in him he is never more present in my work than when no image of him is there he is a suggestion as I've said of a new manner I find him in the curves of certain lines in the loveliness and subtleties of certain colours that is all and then why when to exhibit his portrait asked Lord Henry because without intending it I have put into it some expression of all this curious artistic idolatry of which of course I've never cared to speak to him he knows nothing about it he shall never know anything about it but the world might guess it and I will not bare my soul to their shallow prying eyes my heart shall never be put under their microscope there is too much of myself in the thing too much of myself an artist should create beautiful things but should put nothing of his own life into them we live in an age when men treat art as if it were meant to be a form of autobiography we have lost the abstract sense of beauty some day I will show the world what it is and for that reason the world shall never see my portrait of Dorian Gray I think you're wrong basil and I went to argue with you it's only the intellectually lost who ever argue tell me historian gray very fond of you the painter considered for a few moments he likes me he answered after a pause I know he likes me of course I flatter him dreadfully I find a strange pleasure in saying things to him that I know I should be sorry for having said as a rule he is charming to me and we sit in the studio and talk of a thousand things now and then however he's horribly faultless and seems to take a real delight in giving me pain then I feel Harry that I have given away my whole soul to someone who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat a bit of decoration to charm his vanity an ornament for a summer's day days in summer basil are apt to linger murmured Lord Henry perhaps you will tire sooner than he will it is a sad thing to think of but there is no doubt that genius lasts longer than beauty that accounts for the fact that we all take such pains to over educate ourselves in the wild struggle for existence we want to have something that endures and so we fill our minds with rubbish and facts in the city hope of keeping our place the thoroughly well-informed man that is the modern ideal and the mind of the thoroughly well-informed man is a dreadful thing it's like a bric-a-brac shop or monsters and dust with everything priced above its proper value I think you will tire thirst all the same someday you will look at your friend and he will seem to you to be a little out of drawing or you won't like his tone or color or something he will bitterly reproach him in your own heart and seriously think that he has behaved very do you the next time he calls it will be perfectly cold and indifferent to be great pity for it will alter you what you have told me is quite a romance a romance of art one might call it and the west of having a romance of any kind is the deadly one so unromantic Harry don't talk like that as long as I live the personality of Dorian Gray will dominate me you can't feel what I feel you change too often ah my dear basil that is exactly why I can feel it those who are faithful now only the trivial side of love it is the faithless who know love's tragedies and Lord Henry struck a light on a dainty silver case and began to smoke a cigarette with a self-conscious and satisfied air as if you'd summed up the world in a phrase there was a rustle of chirruping sparrows in the green lacquer leaves of the ivy and the blue cloud shadows chased themselves across the grass like swallows how pleasant it was in the garden and how delightful other people's emotions were much more delightful than their ideas it seemed to him one's own soul and the passions of one's friends those were the fascinating things in life he pictured to himself with silent amusement that tedious luncheon that he had missed by staying so long with basil Hallward had he gone to his aunt he would have been sure to have met Lord Hood body there and the whole conversation would have been about the feeding of the poor and the necessity for model lodging houses each class would have preached the importance of those virtues for whose exercise there was no necessity in their own lives the rich would have spoken on the value of thrift and the idle grown eloquent over the dignity of labour it was charming to have escaped all that as he thought of his armed an idea seemed to strike him he turned to hell wooden said My dear fellow I've just remembered remembered what Harry where I heard the name of Dorian Gray where was it asked Howard with a slight frown don't look so angry basil it was at by aunt lady Agatha's she told me she had discovered a wonderful young man who was going to help her in the east in and that his name was Dorian Gray wish I'd known it was your friend I'm very glad you didn't Harry why I don't want you to meet him the painter replied you don't want me to meet him no mr. Dorian Gray's in the studio sir said the butler coming into the garden well you must introduce me now cried Lord Henry laughing the painter turned to his servant who stood blinking in the sunlight asked mr. gray to wait Parker I shall be in in a few moments the man bowed and went up the walk then basil looked at Lord Henry Dorian Gray is my dearest friend he said he has a simple and a beautiful nature don't spoil him don't try to influence him your influence would be bad the world is wide and as many marvellous people in it don't take away from me the one person who gives to my art whatever charm it possesses my life as an artist depends on him mind Harry I trust you he spoke very slowly and the words seemed wrung out of him almost against his will What nonsense you talk said Lord Henry smiling and taking Hal wood by the arm he almost led him into the house as they entered they saw Dorian Gray he was seated at the piano with his back to them turning over the pages of a volume of Schumann's forest scenes you must lend me these basil he cried I want to learn them they're perfectly charming that entirely depends on how you sit today Dorian oh I'm tired of sitting and I don't want a life-sized portrait of myself answered the lad swinging round on the music stool in a wilful petulant manner when he caught sight of Lord Henry a faint blush colored his cheeks for a moment and he started up I beg your pardon basil but I didn't know you had anyone with you this is Lord Henry Wotton Dorian an old boxford friend of mine I've just been telling him what a capital city you were now you've spoiled everything you have not spoiled my pleasure in meeting you mr.
gray said Lord Henry stepping forward and extending his hand my aunt has often spoken to me about you you are one of her favorites and I'm afraid one of her victims also I'm in lady Agatha's black books at present I'm said Dorian with a funny look of penitence I promise to go to a club in Whitechapel with her last Tuesday and I really forgot all about it we were to have played a duet together three duets I believe I don't know what she'll say to me I'm far too frightened to call oh I will make your peace with my aunt she's quite diverting to you and I don't think it really matters about your not being there the audience probably thought it was a duet when aunt Agatha sits down to the counter she makes quite enough noise for two people it's very horrid to her and not very nice to me answered Dorian laughing Lord Henry looked at him yes he was certainly wonderfully handsome with his finely curved scarlet lips his frank blue eyes his crisp gold hair there was something at his face that made one trust him at once all the candor of youth was there as well as all youths passionate purity one felt that he'd kept himself unspotted from the world no wonder basil Hallward worshiped him you are too charming to go in for philanthropy mr. grey far too charming and Lord Henry flung himself down on the divan and opened his cigarette-case the painter had been busy mixing his colours and getting his brushes ready he was looking worried and when he heard Lord Henry's last remark he danced at him hesitated for a moment and then said Harry I want to finish this picture today what do you think it awfully rude of me if I asked you to go away Lord Henry smiled and looked at Dorian Gray am I to go mr. gray he asked oh please don't Lord Henry I see the basil is in one of his sulky moods and I can't bear him and he sulks besides I want you to tell me why I should not go in for philanthropy no I don't know that I should tell you that mr.
gray it is so tedious a subject that one would have to talk seriously about it but I certainly shall not run away now that you have asked me to stop you don't really mind there's all do you you've often told me that you liked your sitters to have someone to chat to Howard bit his lip if Dorian wishes it of course you must stay Dorian's whims are laws to everybody except himself Lord Henry took up his hat and gloves you are very pressing basil and I'm afraid I must go goodbye mr. gray come and see me some afternoon in Curzon Street basil cried Dorian Gray if Lord Henry Wotton goes I shall go too you never open your lips while you're painting and it's horribly dull standing on a platform and trying to look Pleasant ask him to stay I insist upon it stay hairy ProGlide Dorian and to oblige me said Hallward gazing intently at his picture it is quite true I never talk when I'm working and never listen either and it must be dreadfully tedious for my unfortunate sitters sit down again Harry and now Dorian get up on the platform and don't move about too much or pay any attention to what Lord Henry says he has a very bad influence over all his friends with the single exception of myself Dorian Gray stepped up on the dais with the air of a young Greek martyr and made a little move of discontent to Lord Henry to whom he had rather taken a fancy he was so unlike basil they made a delightful contrast and he had such a beautiful voice after a few moments he said to him have you really a very bad influence lord henry as bad as basil says there is no such thing as a good influence mr. grey all influence is immoral immoral from the scientific point of view why because to influence a person is to give him one's own soul he does not think his natural thoughts or barron with his natural passions his virtues are not renal to him his sins if there are such things as sins are borrowed he becomes an echo of someone else's music an actor of a path that has not been written for him the aim of life is self-development to realize one's nature perfectly that is what each of us is here for people are afraid of themselves nowadays they have forgotten the highest of all duties the duty that one to oneself of course their charitable they feed the hungry and clothe the beggar but their own souls starve and our naked courage has gone out of our race perhaps we never really had it the terror of society which is the basis of morals the terror of God which is the secret of religion these are the two things that govern us and yet just turn your head a little more to the right durian like a good boy said the painter deepen his work and conscious only but a look had come into the lads face that he had never seen there before and yet continued lone Henry in his low musical voice and with that graceful wave of the hand that was always so characteristic of him and that he had even in his Eton days I believe that if one man were to live out his life fully and completely were to give form to every feeling expression to every thought reality to every dream I believe that the world would gain such a fresh impulse of joy that we would forget all the maladies of medievalism and return to the Hellenic ideal to something finer richer than the Hellenic ideal it may be but the bravest man among us is afraid of himself the mutilation of the Savage has its tragic survival in the self-denial that Mars our lives we are punished for our refusal every impulse that we strive to strangle broods in the mind and poisons us the body sins once and has done with its sin for action is a mode of purification nothing remains then but the recollection of a pleasure or the luxury of a regret the only way to get rid of a temptation is to evil to it resist it and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it is forbidden to itself with desire for what it's monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful it has been said that the great events of the world take place in the brain it is in the brain and the brain only that the great sins of the world take place also you mr.
gray you yourself for the old Rose rail youth in your rose white boy hood you have had passions that have made you afraid thoughts that have filled you with terror dreams and sleeping dreams whose mere memory might stain your cheek with shame stop faltered Dorian grave stop you bewilder me I don't know what to say there is some answer to you but I cannot find it don't be let me think or rather let me try not to think for nearly 10 minutes he stood there motionless with parted lips and eyes strangely bright he was dimly conscious that entirely fresh influences would work within him yet they seemed to him to have come really from himself the few words that Basil's friend had said to him words spoken by chance no doubt and with wilful paradox in them had touched some secret chord that had never been touched before but that he felt was now vibrating and throbbing to curious pulses words mere words how terrible they were how clear and vivid and cruel was there anything so real as words yes there had been things in his boyhood that he had not understood he understood them now life suddenly became fiery colored to him it seemed to him that he had been walking in fire why had he not known it with his subtle smile Lord Henry watched him he knew the precise psychological moment when to say nothing he felt intensely interested he was amazed at the sudden impression that his words had produced he had merely shot an arrow into the air had it hit the mark how fascinating the lad was how would painted away with that marvelous bold touch of his that had the true refinement and perfect delicacy that in art at any rate comes only from strength he was unconscious of the silence basil I'm tired of standing cried Dorian Gray suddenly I must go out and sit in the garden the air is stifling here My dear fellow I'm so sorry when I'm painting I can't think of anything else but you never said better you were perfectly still and I have caught the effect I wanted the half parted lips and the bright look in the eyes I don't know what Harry has been saying to you but he has certainly made you have the most wonderful expression I suppose he's been paying new compliments you mustn't believe a word that he says he has certainly not been paying me compliments perhaps that is the reason that I don't believe anything he's told me you know you believe it all said Lord Henry looking at him with his dreamy languorous eyes I will go out to the garden with you it is horribly hot in the studio basil let us have something iced to drink something with strawberries in it certainly Harry just touch the bell and when Parker comes I will tell him what you want I got to work up this background so I will join you later on don't keep Dorian too long I've never been in better form for painting than I am today this is going to be my masterpiece it is my masterpiece as it stands Lord Henry went out to the garden and found Dorian Gray burying his face in the great cool lilac blossoms feverishly drinking in their perfume as if it had been wine he came close to him and put his hand upon his shoulder you are quite right to do that he murmured nothing can cure the soul but the senses just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul the lad started and drew back he was bare headed and the leaves had tossed his rebellious curls and tangled all their gilded threads there was a look of fear in his eyes such as people have when they are suddenly awakened his finely chiseled nostrils quivered and some hidden nerve shook the Scarlet of his lips and left them trembling yes continued Lord Henry that is one of the great secrets of life to cure the soul by means of the senses and the senses by means of the soul you are a wonderful creation you know more than you think you know just as you know less than you want to know Dorian Gray frowned and turned his head away he could not help liking the tall graceful young man who was standing by him his romantic olive colored face and worn expression interested him there was something in his low languid voice that was absolutely fascinating his cool white flower like hands even had a curious charm they moved as he spoke like music and seemed to have a language of their own but he felt afraid of him and ashamed of being afraid why had it been left for a stranger to reveal him to himself he had known basil Hallward for months but the friendship between them had never altered him suddenly there'd come someone across his life who seemed to have disclosed to him life's mystery and yet what was there to be afraid of he was not a school boy or a girl it was absurd to be frightened let us go and sit in the shade said Lord Henry Parker has brought out the drinks and if you stay any longer in this glare he will be quite spoiled and basil will never paint you again you really must not allow yourself become sunburnt it would be unbecoming what can it matter cried Dorian Gray laughing as he sat down on the seat at the end of the garden it should matter everything to you mr. gray why because you have the most marvellous youth and youth is the one thing worth having I don't feel that Lord Henry no you don't feel it now someday when you are old and wrinkled and uglier when thought has seared your forehead with its lines and passion branded your lips with it's hideous fires you will feel it you will feel it terribly now wherever you go you charm the world will it always be so you have a wonderfully beautiful face mr. gray don't frown you have and beauty is a form of genius is higher indeed than genius as it needs no explanation it is one of the great facts of the world like sunlight or springtime or the reflection in dark waters of that silver shell we call the moon it cannot be questioned it has its Divine Right of sovereignty it makes princes of those who have it you smile when you have lost it you won't smile people say sometimes the beauty is only superficial that may be so but at least it is not so superficial as thought is to me beauty is the wonder of wonders it is only shallow people who do not judge by appearances the true mystery of the world is the visible not the invisible yes mr.
gray the gods have been good to you but what the gods give they quickly take away you have only a few years in which to live really perfectly and fully when your youth goes your beauty will go with it and then you will suddenly discover that there are no triumphs left for you or have to content yourself with those mean triumphs that the memory of your past will make more bitter than defeats every month as it wanes brings you nearer to something dreadful time is jealous of you and walls against your lilies and your roses it will become sallow and hollow-cheeked and dau eyed you will suffer horribly realize your youth while you have it don't squander the gold of your days listening to the tedious trying to improve the hopeless failure or giving away your life to the ignorant the common and the vulgar these are the sickly aims the false ideals of our age live live the wonderful life that is in you let nothing be lost upon you be always searching for new sensations be afraid of nothing a new hidden ism that is what our century wants you might be its visible symbol with your personality there is nothing you could not do the world belongs to you for a season the moment I met you I saw that you were quite unconscious of what you really are of what you rarely might be there was so much in your the charmed me that I felt I must tell you something about yourself I thought how tragic you would be if you were wasted for there is such a little time that your youth will last such a little time the common hill flowers wither but they blossom again the laburnum will be as yellow next June as it is now in a month there will be purple stars on the clematis and year after year the green night of its leaves will hold its purple stars but we never get back our youth the pulse of joy that beats innocent twenty becomes sluggish our limbs fail our senses rot we degenerate into hideous puppets haunted by the memory of the passions of which we were too much afraid and the exquisite temptations that we had not the courage to yield to youth new youth there is absolutely nothing in the world but youth Dorian Gray listened open eyed and wondering the spray of lilac fell from his hand upon the gravel a furry bee came and buzzed rounded for a moment then it began to scramble all over the oval stellated globe of the tiny blossoms he watched it with that strange interest in trivial things that we try to develop when things of high import make us afraid or when we are stirred by some new emotion for which we cannot find expression or when some thought that terrifies us lays sudden siege to the brain and calls on us to yield after a time the bee flew away the flower seemed to quiver and then swayed gently to and fro suddenly the painter appeared at the door of the studio and made staccato signs for them to come in they turned to each other and smiled I'm waiting he cried do come in the light is quite perfect and you can bring your drinks they rose up and sauntered down the walk together you are glad to have met me mr.
