Портрет Доріана Грея

           Ah!inwhatamonstrousmomentofprideandpassionhehadprayedthattheportraitshouldbeartheburdenofhisdays,andhekeeptheunsulliedsplendourofeternalyouth! Allhisfailurehadbeenduetothat. Betterforhimthateachsinofhislifehadbroughtitssure,swiftpenaltyalongwithit. Therewaspurificationinpunishment. Not"Forgiveusoursins,"but"Smiteusforouriniquities"shouldbetheprayerofamantoamostjustGod. 

           ThecuriouslycarvedmirrorthatLordHenryhadgiventohim,somanyyearsagonow,wasstandingonthetable,andthewhite-limbedCupidslaughedrounditasofold. Hetookitup,ashehaddoneonthatnightofhorror,whenhehadfirstnotedthechangeinthefatalpicture,andwithwild,tear-dimmedeyeslookedintoitspolishedshield. Once,someonewhohadterriblylovedhimhadwrittentohimamadletter,endingwiththeseidolatrouswords:"Theworldischangedbecauseyouaremadeofivoryandgold. Thecurvesofyourlipsrewritehistory. "Thephrasescamebacktohismemory,andherepeatedthemoverandovertohimself. Thenheloathedhisownbeauty,and,flingingthemirroronthefloor,crusheditintosilversplintersbeneathhisheel. Itwashisbeautythathadruinedhim,hisbeautyandtheyouththathehadprayedfor. Butforthosetwothings,hislifemighthavebeenfreefromstain. Hisbeautyhadbeentohimbutamask,hisyouthbutamockery. Whatwasyouthatbest? Agreen,anunripetime,atimeofshallowmoodsandsicklythoughts. Whyhadhewornitslivery? Youthhadspoiledhim. 

           Itwasbetternottothinkofthepast. Nothingcouldalterthat. Itwasofhimself,andofhisownfuture,thathehadtothink. JamesVanewashiddeninanamelessgraveinSelbychurchyard.