Strona 471 z 490

"Don't, Harry. The soul is a terrible reality. It can be bought,

and sold, and bartered away. It can be poisoned, or made perfect.

There is a soul in each one of us. I know it."

"Do you feel quite sure of that, Dorian?"

"Quite sure."

"Ah! then it must be an illusion. The things one feels absolutely

certain about are never true. That is the fatality of faith, and

the lesson of romance. How grave you are! Don't be so serious.

What have you or I to do with the superstitions of our age? No:

we have given up our belief in the soul. Play me something. Play

me a nocturne, Dorian, and, as you play, tell me, in a low voice,

how you have kept your youth. You must have some secret. I am

only ten years older than you are, and I am wrinkled, and worn,

and yellow. You are really wonderful, Dorian. You have never

looked more charming than you do to-night. You remind me of the

day I saw you first. You were rather cheeky, very shy, and

absolutely extraordinary. You have changed, of course, but not in

appearance. I wish you would tell me your secret. To get back my

youth I would do anything in the world, except take exercise, get

up early, or be respectable. Youth! There is nothing like it.