Портрет Дориана Грея

           Thereissomethingofthemartyrabouther. Herdeathhasallthepatheticuselessnessofmartyrdom,allitswastedbeauty. But,asIwassaying,youmustnotthinkIhavenotsuffered. Ifyouhadcomeinyesterdayataparticularmoment —abouthalf-pastfive,perhaps,oraquartertosix—youwouldhavefoundmeintears. EvenHarry,whowashere,whobroughtmethenews,infact,hadnoideawhatIwasgoingthrough. Isufferedimmensely. Thenitpassedaway. Icannotrepeatanemotion. Noonecan,exceptsentimentalists. Andyouareawfullyunjust,Basil. Youcomedownheretoconsoleme. Thatischarmingofyou. Youfindmeconsoled,andyouarefurious. Howlikeasympatheticperson! YouremindmeofastoryHarrytoldmeaboutacertainphilanthropist whospenttwentyyearsofhislifeintryingtogetsomegrievanceredressed,orsomeunjustlawaltered—Iforgetexactlywhatitwas. Finallyhesucceeded,andnothingcouldexceedhisdisappointment. Hehadabsolutelynothingtodo,almostdiedofennui,andbecameaconfirmedmisanthrope. Andbesides,mydearoldBasil, ifyoureallywanttoconsoleme,teachmerathertoforgetwhathashappened,ortoseeitfromtheproperartisticpointofview. WasitnotGautierwhousedtowriteaboutlaconsolationdesarts? Irememberpickingupalittlevellum-coveredbookinyourstudioonedayandchancingonthatdelightfulphrase. Well,IamnotlikethatyoungmanyoutoldmeofwhenweweredownatMarlowtogether, theyoungmanwhousedtosaythatyellowsatincouldconsoleoneforallthemiseriesoflife. Ilovebeautifulthingsthatonecantouchandhandle. Oldbrocades,greenbronzes,lacquer-work,carvedivories,exquisitesurroundings,luxury,pomp,thereismuchtobegotfromallthese. Buttheartistictemperamentthattheycreate,oratanyratereveal,isstillmoretome. Tobecomethespectatorofone’sownlife,asHarrysays,istoescapethesufferingoflife.