16 
　  
　　You're going to be good？'said Lord Henry．'Don't tell me that．You're wonderful as you are．Please don't change．'His long， white fingers played with a flower on the table．It was spring in London，and the two friends were having dinner at Lord Henry's house． 
　　Dorian Gray shook his head．'No，Harry， I've done too many terrible things in my life， and I'm going to change． I began my good life yesterday， in the country．' 
　　'My dear boy，'smiled Lord Henry．'Everybody can be good in the country．There's nothing to do in the country， so it's impossible to do anything bad．But tell me， how did you begin your good life？' 
　　'There was a girl in a village． A very beautiful girl， an honest，country girl．She loved me， and was ready to come away with me yesterday， but I said no． I refused to destroy her young life，and I've left her as honest as I found her．' 
　　Lord Henry laughed．'You've left here with a broken heart， you mean．How can she be happy now with a country boy，after she has known you？' 
　　'Don't，Harry！'cried Dorian．'Can you never be serious？I'm sorry that I told you now．Let's talk about other things．What's been happening in London？' 
　　'Oh，people are still discussing poor Basil and how he disappeared．I don't know why， because there are plenty of other things that they can talk about—my wife has run away with another man， Alan Campbell has killed himself…' 
　　'What do you think has happened to Basil？'asked Dorian slowly． 
　　'I've no idea，'answered Lord Henry．'The English police report that Basil went to Paris on the midnight train on the ninth of November， but the French police say that he never arrived in Paris at all．If Basil wants to hide himself， I really don't care．And if he's dead，I don't want to think about him．Death is the only thing that really frightens me—I hate it．' 
　　'Harry，don't people say that… that Basil was murdered？'said Dorian． 
　　'Some of the newspapers say so，'replied Lord Henry，'but who would want to murder poor Basil？He wasn't clever enough to have enemies．' 
　　'What will you say， Harry， if I tell you that I murdered Basil？'asked Dorian．He watched his friend carefully． 
　　Lord Henry smiled．'No，my dear Dorian， murder wouldn't please you．You like a different kind of pleasure．And you should never do anything that you cannot talk about after dinner．'He lifted his coffee cup．'What happened to the fine portrait that Basil painted of you？I haven't seen it for years． Didn't you tell me that it was stolen？What a pity！' 
　　'Oh，I never really liked it，'said Dorian．'I prefer not to think about it．' 
　　For a while the two men were silent．Then the older man lay back in his chair and looked at Dorian with half-closed eyes．'Tell me how you have kept your youth and your wonderful beauty，Dorian．You must have some secret．I'm only ten years older than you，and I look like an old man．But you haven't changed since the day when I first met you．What a wonderful life you've had！' 
　　'Yes，'said Dorian slowly，'it's been wonderful，Harry，but I'm going to change it now． You don't know everything about me．' 
　　His friend smiled．'You cannot change to me， Dorian．You and I will always be friends．' 
　　Dorian stood up．'I'm tired tonight， Harry． I must go home．I'll see you at lunch tomorrow．Goodnight．' 
　　At the door he stopped for a moment and looked back， but then he turned and went out without another word．  
　  
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　　“一张没有心的脸。”  
16  
　　“你要做好人？”亨利勋爵说。“别跟我说那话，你一直很好，请别改变。”他又长又白的手指玩弄着桌上的一朵花。时值伦敦的春季，这两个好友正在亨利勋爵家吃晚饭。 
　　多里安·格雷摇摇头。“不，哈里，我一生中做了太多可怕的事情，我要改变。我昨天开始当好人了，在乡下。” 
　　“亲爱的孩子，”亨利勋爵微笑着，“每个人在乡下都会很好。在乡下没任何事情做，所以不可能做任何坏事。可是告诉我，你怎么开始当好人的？” 
　　“村里有个姑娘，一个非常漂亮、纯真的乡下姑娘。她爱我，昨天愿意和我走，但是我拒绝了。我不愿意毁了她年轻的生活，于是我离开了她，她还像我刚发现时一样地纯真。” 
　　亨利勋爵笑着。“你离开她，她心已经碎了。她认识你后，现在又怎么能高高兴兴地和乡下男孩在一起呢？” 
　　“别说了，哈里！”多里安喊道。“你从不会认真点吗？我后悔告诉了你。咱们谈些别的事，伦敦近来发生了什么事？” 
　　“哦，人们仍在谈论可怜的巴兹尔是怎么失踪的。我不知道为什么还在谈论，因为还有许多其它事可以供他们议论——比如我妻子和另外一个男人私奔了，艾伦·坎贝尔自杀了……” 
　　“你认为巴兹尔发生了什么事？”多里安慢慢地问。 
　　“我不知道。”亨利勋爵回答。“英国警方说巴兹尔于11月9日乘午夜的火车去了巴黎，可是法国警方说他根本就没抵达巴黎。如果巴兹尔想隐藏起来，我真的不在乎。如果他死了，我不想再想他。死是唯一让我害怕的事情——我恨死亡。” 
　　“哈里，人们没说……巴兹尔是被谋杀的吗？”多里安说。 
　　“有些报纸这么说。”亨利勋爵回答。“可是谁想杀害可怜的巴兹尔？他没聪明到能给自己树敌。” 
　　“你会说什么，哈里，如果我告诉你是我杀了巴兹尔？”多里安问，他仔细地观察他的朋友。 
　　亨利勋爵一笑。“不，亲爱的多里安，杀人不会让你高兴，你喜欢与这不同的快乐，而且你决不会做晚饭后你不能谈论的事情。”他端起咖啡：“巴兹尔给你画的那幅精美画像怎么样了？我好多年没看见它了。你是不是告诉过我画像被偷了？多可惜啊！” 
　　“哦，我从没真正喜欢过它。”多里安说，“我宁愿不想起它。” 
　　有一会儿两个人都没说话。过后年长些的那位靠在椅背上，用半睁的眼睛看着多里安。“告诉我你是怎么保持青春和美貌的，多里安。你一定有个秘密。我只比你大10岁，却看起来像个老人。可从我看见你的第一天起，你一点也没变，你的生活太妙了！” 
　　“是的，”多里安缓慢地说，“是太妙了，哈里。可我要改变这种生活。并不是我的每件事情你都知道。” 
　　他的朋友笑了，“对我来说，你变不了，多里安。你和我将永远是朋友。” 
　　多里安站起身，“今晚我累了，哈里，我得回家了。明天午饭时见，晚安。” 
　　在门边他停了片刻，回头看了看，就转身出去了，一句话没说。 
　　　    


 