Портрет Дориана Грея

           "Theymustinterestyou,Dorian. Everygentlemanisinterestedinhisgoodname. Youdon’twantpeopletotalkofyouassomethingvileanddegraded. Ofcourseyouhaveyourposition,andyourwealth,andallthatkindofthing. Butpositionandwealtharenoteverything. Mindyou,Idon’tbelievetheserumoursatall. Atleast,Ican’tbelievethemwhenIseeyou. Sinisathingthatwritesitselfacrossaman’sface. Itcannotbeconcealed. Peopletalksometimesofsecretvices. Therearenosuchthings. Ifawretchedmanhasavice,itshowsitselfinthelinesofhismouth,thedroopofhiseyelids,themouldingofhishandseven. Somebody—Iwon’tmentionhisname,butyouknowhim—cametomelastyeartohavehisportraitdone. Ihadneverseenhimbefore,andhadneverheardanythingabouthimatthetime,thoughIhaveheardagooddealsince. Heofferedanextravagantprice. Irefusedhim. TherewassomethingintheshapeofhisfingersthatIhated. IknownowthatIwasquiterightinwhatIfanciedabouthim. Hislifeisdreadful. Butyou,Dorian,withyourpure,bright,innocentface,andyourmarvellousuntroubledyouth—Ican’tbelieveanythingagainstyou. AndyetIseeyouveryseldom,andyounevercomedowntothestudionow,andwhenIamawayfromyou,andIhearallthesehideousthingsthatpeoplearewhisperingaboutyou,Idon’tknowwhattosay. Whyisit,Dorian,thatamanliketheDukeofBerwickleavestheroomofaclubwhenyouenterit? WhyisitthatsomanygentlemeninLondonwillneithergotoyourhousenorinviteyoutotheirs? YouusedtobeafriendofLordStaveley. Imethimatdinnerlastweek. Yournamehappenedtocomeupinconversation,inconnectionwiththeminiaturesyouhavelenttotheexhibitionattheDudley.