Dorian mode

“ His life is dreadful. But you, Dorian, with your pure, bright, innocent face, and your marvellous untroubled youth – I can't believe anything against you. And yet I see you very seldom, and you never come down to the studio now, and when I am away from you, and I hear all these hideous things that people are whispering about you, I don't know what to say. Why is it, Dorian, that a man like the Duke of Berwick leaves the room of a club when you enter it? Why is it that so many gentlemen in London will neither go to your house or invite you to theirs? ”

“ I turned half-way round and saw Dorian Gray for the first time. When our eyes met, I felt that I was growing pale. A curious sensation of terror came over me. I knew that I had come face to face with some one whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself. I did not want any external influence in my life. ”

“ Over his bed hung an artist's conception of "Lorna Doone," a beautiful face, framed in a mass of auburn hair, with smiling lips, and a dreamy look in her eyes.
"That's my girl," Dorian sometimes said, pointing to this picture. "No one can take her from me; we never quarrel; and she never scolds or frowns." ”

“ The colours faded wearily out of things.
After some time Dorian Gray looked up. "You have explained me to myself, Harry," he murmured with something of a sigh of relief. "I felt all that you have said, but somehow I was afraid of it, and I could not express it to myself. How well you know me! But we will not talk again of what has happened. It has been a marvellous experience. That is all. I wonder if life has still in store for me anything as marvellous."
"Life has everything in store for you, Dorian. There is nothing that you, with your extraordinary good looks, will not be able to do." ”

“ What would be the music of the spheres to one bereft of hearing? What gain would come to a man with a heart of stone to be in an environment of perfect and eternal love!"
Dorian finished the reading and laid the paper on the desk. For some time he sat very still, thinking of these beautiful words from his dear friend to him. Surely, Uncle Zed was very much alive in any environment which his beautiful life had placed him. Would that he, Dorian, could live so that he might always be alive to the good and be dead to sin. ”

“ Callous, concentrated on evil, with stained mind, and soul hungry for rebellion, Dorian Gray hastened on, quickening his step as he went, but as he darted aside into a dim archway, that had served him often as a short cut to the ill-famed place where he was going, he felt himself suddenly seized from behind, and before be had time to defend himself, he was thrust back against the wall, with a brutal hand round his throat. ”

“ That evening, at eight-thirty, exquisitely dressed and wearing a large button-hole of Parma violets, Dorian Gray was ushered into Lady Narborough's drawing-room by bowing servants. His forehead was throbbing with maddened nerves, and he felt wildly excited, but his manner as he bent over his hostess's hand was as easy and graceful as ever. Perhaps one never seems so much at one's ease as when one has to play a part. Certainly no one looking at Dorian Gray that night could have believed that he had passed through a tragedy as horrible as any tragedy of our age. ”

“ The weak had reached out to the strong, and the stronger one had failed. If 'remorse of conscience' is hell, Dorian tasted of its bitter depths, for it came to him now that perhaps because of his neglect, Carlia had been led to her fall. ”

“ Dorian looked critically back and forth. "The sky is redder," be decided.
"And yet if I make my picture as red as the sky naturally is, many people would say that it is too red to be true. I'll risk it anyway." Then she carefully laid on a little more color.
"Nature itself, our teacher told us, is always more intense than any representation of nature."
She worked on in silence for a few moments, then without looking from her canvas, she asked: "Do you like being a farmer?"
"Oh, I guess so," he replied somewhat indefinitely. "I've lived on a farm all my life, and I don't know anything else. ”

“ But let Dorian, who is matchless in the vigour and resources of his beauty, rise above the base shrinking from life that calls itself goodness. Let him accept and welcome every natural impulse of his nature. ”

“ Dorian looked at him and smiled. "What a way for a fashionable painter to travel! A Gladstone bag and an ulster! Come in, or the fog will get into the house. And mind you don't talk about anything serious. Nothing is serious nowadays. At least nothing should be."
Hallward shook his head, as he entered, and followed Dorian into the library. ”

“ Introduced as an innocent, rather effeminate youth of extraordinary and fascinating beauty, Dorian Gray has his eyes opened to the fact that he possesses beauty, and his slumbering vanity and egotism, awakened by the insidious flatteries of a hardened cynic, spring at once into activity, and from that moment begins the downward course. ”

“ In one corner, with his head buried in his arms, a sailor sprawled over a table, and by the tawdrily painted bar that ran across one complete side stood two haggard women, mocking an old man who was brushing the sleeves of his coat with an expression of disgust. "He thinks he's got red ants on him," laughed one of them, as Dorian passed by. The man looked at her in terror and began to whimper.
At the end of the room there was a little staircase, leading to a darkened chamber. As Dorian hurried up its three rickety steps, the heavy odour of opium met him. ”

“ "Something of a load to carry, sir," gasped the little man when they reached the top landing. And he wiped his shiny forehead.
"I am afraid it is rather heavy," murmured Dorian as he unlocked the door that opened into the room that was to keep for him the curious secret of his life and hide his soul from the eyes of men. ”

“ Dorian took a book from the shelf as if to read; but visions intruded of some beautiful volumes, now somewhere down the canal, a mass of water-soaked paper. He could not read. He finished his last chocolate, said his prayers, and went to bed.
Saturday was always a busy day with Dorian and his mother; but that morning Mrs. Trent was up earlier than usual. The white muslin curtains were already in the wash when Dorian looked at his mother in the summer kitchen.
"What, washing today!" he asked in surprise. Monday was washday.
"The curtains were black; they must be clean for tomorrow." ”

“ She sat rigidly looking at the glow in the grate. He kept on talking cheerfully, optimistically, as if he wished to prevent the gloom of night to overwhelm them. Then, presently, the girl seemed to shake herself free from some benumbing influence, as she turned to him and said:
"Dorian, why, really why have you gone to all this trouble to find me?"
"Why, we all wanted to know what had become of you. Your father is a changed man because of your disappearance, and your mother is nearly broken hearted." ”

“ The task Dorian had set before him was a big one, but it was a very important one, and no one seemed to be doing it as yet. He might fail in accomplishing what he and Uncle Zed and perhaps the Lord had in mind regarding him, but he would do his very best, anyway.
"You'll not fail," the girl at his side assured him.
"I hope not. But I know some men who have gone in for all the learning they could obtain, and in the process of getting the learning, they have lost their faith. With me, the very object of getting knowledge is to strengthen my faith. ”

“ They can sit at their ease and gape at the play. If they know nothing of victory; they are at least spared the knowledge of defeat. They live as we all should live, undisturbed, indifferent, and without disquiet. They neither bring ruin upon others, nor ever receive it from alien hands. Your rank and wealth, Harry; my brains, such as they are—my art, whatever it may be worth; Dorian Gray's good looks—we shall all suffer for what the gods have given us, suffer terribly."
"Dorian Gray? Is that his name?" asked Lord Henry, walking across the studio towards Basil Hallward. ”

“ Facts fled before her like frightened forest things. Her white feet trod the huge press at which wise Omar sits, till the seething grape-juice rose round her bare limbs in waves of purple bubbles, or crawled in red foam over the vat's black, dripping, sloping sides. It was an extraordinary improvisation. He felt that the eyes of Dorian Gray were fixed on him, and the consciousness that amongst his audience there was one whose temperament he wished to fascinate seemed to give his wit keenness and to lend colour to his imagination. ”

“ He turned and looked at Dorian Gray with the eyes of a sick man. His mouth twitched, and his parched tongue seemed unable to articulate. He passed his hand across his forehead. It was dank with clammy sweat.
The young man was leaning against the mantelshelf, watching him with that strange expression that one sees on the faces of those who are absorbed in a play when some great artist is acting. ”

“ Once Dorian had been called a "Clod hopper." As he read the following, he wondered whether or not Uncle Zed had not also been so designated, and had written this in reply:
"Mother Earth, why should not I love you? Why should not I get close to you? Why should I plan to live always in the clouds above you, gazing at other far-distant worlds, and neglecting you? ”

“ Certainly with hideous iteration the bitten lips of Dorian Gray shaped and reshaped those subtle words that dealt with soul and sense, till he had found in them the full expression, as it were, of his mood, and justified, by intellectual approval, passions that without such justification would still have dominated his temper. ”

“ It was not till 1890 that he published his first and only novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, with its strangeness of colour and its passionate suggestion flickering like lightning through the gloom of the subject. The Puritans and the Philistines, who scented veiled improprieties in its paradoxes, were shocked; but it delighted the connoisseur and the artist, wearied as they were with the hum-drum accounts of afternoon tea parties and the love affairs of the curate. ”

“ Suddenly his eye fell on the screen that he had placed in front of the portrait, and he started.
"Too cold for Monsieur?" asked his valet, putting an omelette on the table. "I shut the window?"
Dorian shook his head. "I am not cold," he murmured.
Was it all true? Had the portrait really changed? Or had it been simply his own imagination that had made him see a look of evil where there had been a look of joy? Surely a painted canvas could not alter? The thing was absurd. It would serve as a tale to tell Basil some day. It would make him smile. ”

“ He turned, hair brush in hand, and saw Dorian. "Hello, Dorian," he greeted, "you're quite a stranger. You'll come along to meetin' with Carlia, I suppose. We will be late if we don't hurry."
"Father, I told you I'm not going. I—" she hesitated as if not quite certain of her words—"I had to chase all over the hills for the cows, and I'm not through milking yet. Then there are the pigs and the calves and the horses to feed. But I'll not keep Dorian. You had better go with father"—this to the young man who still stood by the kitchen door. ”

“ I know, now, that when one loses one's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything. Your picture has taught me that. Lord Henry is perfectly right. Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I will kill myself."
Hallward turned pale, and caught his hand. "Dorian! Dorian!" he cried, "don't talk like that. I have never had such a friend as you, and I shall never have such another. You are not jealous of material things, are you?"
"I am jealous of everything whose beauty does not die. I am jealous of the portrait you have painted of me. ”

“ I think that would be a rather nice excuse: it would have all the surprise of candour."
"It is such a bore putting on one's dress-clothes," muttered Hallward. "And, when one has them on, they are so horrid."
"Yes," answered Lord Henry dreamily, "the costume of the nineteenth century is detestable. It is so sombre, so depressing. Sin is the only real colour-element left in modern life."
"You really must not say things like that before Dorian, Harry."
"Before which Dorian? The one who is pouring out tea for us, or the one in the picture?" ”

“ That is the only way through which it can come. And herein, to my humble way of thinking is the great error into which the modern evolutionist has fallen. He reasons that higher forms evolve from the initial and unaided movements of the lower. That is as impossible as that a man can lift himself to the skies by his boot-straps."
Dorian smiled at the illustration.
"Now, my boy, I want to make an application of these divine truths to us here and now. I'm not going to live here much longer."
"Uncle Zed!" ”