Читать книгу Dorian Gray - John Garavaglia - Страница 8

Lord Wotton was very surprised by Basil’s gloomy prediction. He was eager to learn more about this mysterious model.

After a pause, Lord Wotton said, “You haven’t answered my question, Basil.”

“What is that?” Said the painter, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground.

“You know quite well.”

“I do not, Harry.”

“Well, I will tell you what it is. I want you to explain to me why you won’t exhibit Dorian Gray’s picture. I want the real reason.”

“I told you the real reason.”

“No, you did not. You said it was because there was too much of yourself in it. Now, that is childish.”

“Harry,” said Basil, looking him straight in the face, “every portrait that has ever been painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. The sitter is merely the accident, the occasion. It is not he who is revealed by the painter, it is rather the painter who, on the colored canvas, reveals himself. The reason I will not exhibit this picture is that I am afraid I have shown in it the secret of my own soul.”

Lord Wotton laughed. “And what is that?” He asked.

“I will tell you,” said Basil; but an expression of perplexity came over his face.

“I am all expectation, Basil,” continued his companion, glancing at him.

DORIAN GRAY

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