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1"Of course he likes it," said Lord Henry. "Who wouldn't like it? It is one of the greatest things in modern art. I will
2give you anything you like to ask for it. I must have it." "It is not my property, Harry." "Whose property is it?"
3"Dorian's, of course," answered the painter. "He is a very lucky fellow." "How sad it is!" murmured Dorian Gray with his
4eyes still fixed upon his own portrait. "How sad it is! I shall grow old, and horrible, and dreadful. But this picture
5will remain always young. It will never be older than this particular day of June.... If it were only the other way! If
6it were I who was to be always young, and the picture that was to grow old! For that--for that--I would give everything!
7Yes, there is nothing in the whole world I would not give! I would give my soul for that!" "You would hardly care for
8such an arrangement, Basil," cried Lord Henry, laughing. "It would be rather hard lines on your work." "I should object
9very strongly, Harry," said Hallward. Dorian Gray turned and looked at him. "I believe you would, Basil. You like your
10art better than your friends. I am no more to you than a green bronze figure. Hardly as much, I dare say." The painter
11stared in amazement. It was so unlike Dorian to speak like that. What had happened? He seemed quite angry. His face was
12flushed and his cheeks burning. "Yes," he continued, "I am less to you than your ivory Hermes or your silver Faun. You
13will like them always. How long will you like me? Till I have my first wrinkle, I suppose. I know, now, that when one
14loses one's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything. Your picture has taught me that. Lord Henry Wotton
15is perfectly right. Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I shall kill myself."
16Hallward turned pale and caught his hand. "Dorian! Dorian!" he cried, "don't talk like that. I have never had such a
17friend as you, and I shall never have such another. You are not jealous of material things, are you?--you who are finer
18than any of them!" "I am jealous of everything whose beauty does not die. I am jealous of the portrait you have painted
19of me. Why should it keep what I must lose? Every moment that passes takes something from me and gives something to it.
20Oh, if it were only the other way! If the picture could change, and I could be always what I am now! Why did you paint
21it? It will mock me some day--mock me horribly!" The hot tears welled into his eyes; he tore his hand away and, flinging
22himself on the divan, he buried his face in the cushions, as though he was praying. "This is your doing, Harry," said
23the painter bitterly. Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. "It is the real Dorian Gray--that is all." "It is not." "If it
24is not, what have I to do with it?" "You should have gone away when I asked you," he muttered. "I stayed when you asked
25me," was Lord Henry's answer. "Harry, I can't quarrel with my two best friends at once, but between you both you have
26made me hate the finest piece of work I have ever done, and I will destroy it. What is it but canvas and colour? I will
27not let it come across our three lives and mar them." Dorian Gray lifted his golden head from the pillow, and with
28pallid face and tear-stained eyes, looked at him as he walked over to the deal painting-table that was set beneath the
29high curtained window. What was he doing there? His fingers were straying about among the litter of tin tubes and dry
30brushes, seeking for something. Yes, it was for the long palette-knife, with its thin blade of lithe steel. He had found
31it at last. He was going to rip up the canvas. With a stifled sob the lad leaped from the couch, and, rushing over to
32Hallward, tore the knife out of his hand, and flung it to the end of the studio. "Don't, Basil, don't!" he cried. "It
33would be murder!" "I am glad you appreciate my work at last, Dorian," said the painter coldly when he had recovered from
34his surprise. "I never thought you would." "Appreciate it? I am in love with it, Basil. It is part of myself. I feel
35that." "Well, as soon as you are dry, you shall be varnished, and framed, and sent home. Then you can do what you like
36with yourself." And he walked across the room and rang the bell for tea. "You will have tea, of course, Dorian? And so
37will you, Harry? Or do you object to such simple pleasures?" "I adore simple pleasures," said Lord Henry. "They are the
38last refuge of the complex. But I don't like scenes, except on the stage. What absurd fellows you are, both of you! I
39wonder who it was defined man as a rational animal. It was the most premature definition ever given. Man is many things,
40but he is not rational. I am glad he is not, after all--though I wish you chaps would not squabble over the picture. You
41had much better let me have it, Basil. This silly boy doesn't really want it, and I really do." "If you let any one have
42it but me, Basil, I shall never forgive you!" cried Dorian Gray; "and I don't allow people to call me a silly boy." "You
43know the picture is yours, Dorian. I gave it to you before it existed." "And you know you have been a little silly, Mr.
44Gray, and that you don't really object to being reminded that you are extremely young." "I should have objected very
45strongly this morning, Lord Henry." "Ah! this morning! You have lived since then." There came a knock at the door, and
46the butler entered with a laden tea-tray and set it down upon a small Japanese table. There was a rattle of cups and
47saucers and the hissing of a fluted Georgian urn. Two globe-shaped china dishes were brought in by a page. Dorian Gray
48went over and poured out the tea. The two men sauntered languidly to the table and examined what was under the covers.
49"Let us go to the theatre to-night," said Lord Henry. "There is sure to be something on, somewhere. I have promised to
50dine at White's, but it is only with an old friend, so I can send him a wire to say that I am ill, or that I am
51prevented from coming in consequence of a subsequent engagement. I think that would be a rather nice excuse: it would
52have all the surprise of candour." "It is such a bore putting on one's dress-clothes," muttered Hallward. "And, when one
53has them on, they are so horrid." "Yes," answered Lord Henry dreamily, "the costume of the nineteenth century is
54detestable. It is so sombre, so depressing. Sin is the only real colour-element left in modern life." "You really must
55not say things like that before Dorian, Harry." "Before which Dorian? The one who is pouring out tea for us, or the one
56in the picture?" "Before either." "I should like to come to the theatre with you, Lord Henry," said the lad. "Then you
57shall come; and you will come, too, Basil, won't you?" "I can't, really. I would sooner not. I have a lot of work to
58do." "Well, then, you and I will go alone, Mr. Gray." "I should like that awfully." The painter bit his lip and walked
59over, cup in hand, to the picture. "I shall stay with the real Dorian," he said, sadly. "Is it the real Dorian?" cried
60the original of the portrait, strolling across to him. "Am I really like that?" "Yes; you are just like that." "How
61wonderful, Basil!" "At least you are like it in appearance. But it will never alter," sighed Hallward. "That is
62something." "What a fuss people make about fidelity!" exclaimed Lord Henry. "Why, even in love it is purely a question
63for physiology. It has nothing to do with our own will. Young men want to be faithful, and are not; old men want to be
64faithless, and cannot: that is all one can say." "Don't go to the theatre to-night, Dorian," said Hallward. "Stop and
65dine with me." "I can't, Basil." "Why?" "Because I have promised Lord Henry Wotton to go with him." "He won't like you
66the better for keeping your promises. He always breaks his own. I beg you not to go." Dorian Gray laughed and shook his
67head. "I entreat you." The lad hesitated, and looked over at Lord Henry, who was watching them from the tea-table with
68an amused smile. "I must go, Basil," he answered. "Very well," said Hallward, and he went over and laid down his cup on
69the tray. "It is rather late, and, as you have to dress, you had better lose no time. Good-bye, Harry. Good-bye, Dorian.
70Come and see me soon. Come to-morrow." "Certainly." "You won't forget?" "No, of course not," cried Dorian. "And ...
71Harry!" "Yes, Basil?" "Remember what I asked you, when we were in the garden this morning." "I have forgotten it." "I
72trust you." "I wish I could trust myself," said Lord Henry, laughing. "Come, Mr. Gray, my hansom is outside, and I can
73drop you at your own place. Good-bye, Basil. It has been a most interesting afternoon." As the door closed behind them,
74the painter flung himself down on a sofa, and a look of pain came into his face.
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