Портрет Доріана Грея

           Well,oneeveningaboutseveno’clock,Ideterminedtogooutinsearchofsomeadventure. Ifeltthatthisgrey,monstrousLondonofours,withitsmyriadsofpeople,itssordidsinners,anditssplendidsins,asyouoncephrasedit,musthavesomethinginstoreforme. Ifanciedathousandthings.Themeredangergavemeasenseofdelight. Irememberedwhatyouhadsaidtomeonthatwonderfuleveningwhenwefirstdinedtogether,aboutthesearchforbeautybeingtherealsecretoflife. Idon’tknowwhatIexpected,butIwentoutandwanderedeastward,soonlosingmywayinalabyrinthofgrimystreetsandblack,grasslesssquares. Abouthalf-pasteightIpassedbyanabsurdlittletheatre,withgreatflaringgas-jetsandgaudyplay-bills. AhideousJew,inthemostamazingwaistcoatIeverbeheldinmylife,wasstandingattheentrance,smokingavilecigar. Hehadgreasyringlets,andanenormousdiamondblazedinthecentreofasoiledshirt. ‘Haveabox,myLord?’hesaid,whenhesawme,andhetookoffhishatwithanairofgorgeousservility. Therewassomethingabouthim,Harry,thatamusedme.Hewassuchamonster. Youwilllaughatme,Iknow,butIreallywentinandpaidawholeguineaforthestage-box.TothepresentdayIcan’tmakeoutwhyIdidso; andyetifIhadn’t—mydearHarry,ifIhadn’t,Ishouldhavemissedthegreatestromanceofmylife. Iseeyouarelaughing.Itishorridofyou!" 

           "Iamnotlaughing,Dorian;atleastIamnotlaughingatyou. Butyoushouldnotsaythegreatestromanceofyourlife.Youshouldsaythefirstromanceofyourlife. Youwillalwaysbeloved,andyouwillalwaysbeinlovewithlove.Agrandepassionistheprivilegeofpeoplewhohavenothingtodo. Thatistheoneuseoftheidleclassesofacountry.Don’tbeafraid. Thereareexquisitethingsinstoreforyou.Thisismerelythebeginning." 

           "Doyouthinkmynaturesoshallow?"criedDorianGray,angrily.