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Автор Оскар Уайльд
Оскар Уайльд / Oscar Wilde
Портрет Дориана Грея / The Picture of Dorian Gray
© Матвеев С. А. , адаптация текста, комментарий
© ООО «Издательство АСТ»
Chapter 1
As the painter looked at the gracious and comely form he had so skilfully mirrored in his art, a smile of pleasure passed across his face. He suddenly started up, and closing his eyes, placed his fingers upon the lids.
The Grosvenor is really the only place to exhibit a painting like that. ”
“I don’t think I shall send it anywhere,” the painter answered, moving his head in that odd way that used to make his friends laugh at him at Oxford. “No, I won’t send it anywhere. ”
“Dorian Gray? Is that his name?” asked Lord Henry walking across the room 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 any one. When I leave town now I never tell my people where I am going.
If I did, I would lose all my pleasure. It is a silly habit, I dare say. I suppose you think that’s very foolish?”“Not at all,” answered Lord Henry, “not at all, my dear Basil. You seem to forget that I am married, so my life is full of secrets, I never know where my wife is, and my wife never knows what I am doing. When we meet we tell each other the most absurd stories with the most serious faces. ”
“I hate the way you talk about your married life, Harry,” said Basil Hallward, walking towards the door that led into the garden. “I believe you are really a very good husband, but that you are ashamed of it. You are an extraordinary fellow. You never say a good thing, and you never do a wrong thing. Your cynicism is simply a pose. ”
