It was the ninth of November, the evening before his thirty-eighth birthday. Dorian Gary was walking home from Henry Lord's house when he saw Basil Hallward. He felt strangely afraid and tried to pretend that he had not seen him, but Basil hurried after him.
11月9日晚，也就是多里安38岁生日的前一天晚上。多里安从亨利家出来在回家的路上，他看到了巴兹尔·霍尔沃德。他不敢见他就假装没看到他走了，可巴兹尔看到了多里安在追他。
'Dorian,' he called. 'What extraordinary luck! i'm catching the midnight train to paris and i wanted to see you before i left. I'll be away from England for six months.' He put his hand on Dorian's arm. 'Look, we're near your house. May i come in for a moment? I have something to say to you.'
“多里安，”巴兹尔叫。“真幸运，在这儿见到你！我要坐12点的火车去巴黎，但我想在临走前，见你一面。我接下来6个月都不在英国！”他伸手握住多里安的胳膊。“我们离你家也不远，我能进去坐会吗？我有事要和你说。”
'Of course. But won't you miss your train?' asked Dorian lazily, as he walked up the steps to his door.
“当然可以，但你不是要去赶火车吗？”多里安一边上门前的台阶一边问。
'I have plenty of time. It's only eleven o'clock.'
“时间还早，现在才11点钟。”
They went in and sat down by the fire.
进屋后，他们坐到炉火旁。
'Now, my dear Dorian, I want to speak to you seriously,' Basil again. 'I must tell you that people in London are saying the most terrible things about you.'
“听着，多里安，我接下来要说的事很严肃。”巴兹尔又说了一遍。“我要和你说的是伦敦到处都在传你做了可怕的事情。”
Dorian lit a cigarette and looked bored. 'I don't want to know anything about it. It doesn't interest me.'
多里安不耐烦地点了一根烟。“我一点都不想听，也没兴趣知道。”
'But i must interest you, Dorian,' said Basil. 'Every gentleman is interested in his good name. Of course, when i look at you, i know that these stories can't be true. A man's face shows if his life is good or bad. But why does Lord Berwick leave the room when you enter it? Why does Lord Staveley say that on honest woman is safe with you? That yound soldier, who was your friend - why did he kill himself? There was Sir Henry Ashton, who had to leave England with a bad name. And what about Lord Kent's son? What kind of does he have now?
“但多里安，你一定要听，”巴兹尔说，“每个人都希望自己有个好名声。当然，当我见到你时，就知道那些事情都纯属捏造。一个人生活的好坏都会写在他的脸上。但为什么你进房间时，贝里克勋爵就会走？为什么史坦夫利勋爵会说没一个实诚的女人跟你相处是安全的？那个年轻的士兵，也就是你那朋友，他为什么会自杀？为什么亨利·艾希顿爵士会背着一个坏名声离开英国？还有肯特勋爵的儿子，他又是怎么回事？”
'Stop, Basil. You don't know what you're talking about,' said Dorian coldly. 'Did i teach these people how to live their lives? And the people who tell these stories - are their lives any better than mine?'
“别说了，巴兹尔。你都不知道你在说些什么”多里安冷冷地说。“难道是我教了这些人怎样生活吗？还有那些和你说这些事的人，他们生活得就比我高贵吗？”
'And there are other stories too,' continued Basil. 'Are they true? Can you life really be so bad, so evil? You were a fine young man once, but now, when i hear these stories, i wonder... Do i know you at all? What has happened to the real Dorian Gary? I think i would have to see your soul before i could answer those questions.'
“这也还有一些别的事，”巴兹尔喋喋不休地说。“这都是真的吗？你真的有说的那么坏、那么恐怖吗？你以前是个很好的年轻人，但现在当我听到这些事时，我想…我真的了解你吗？那个真正的多里安是经历了什么？真想在回答这些问题前，先看看你灵魂是什么样的。”
'The real Dorian Gary?' asked Dorian quietly, his face white with fear.
“真的多里安？”多里安一脸惨白地问，
'Yes,' said the artist sadly. 'But only God can see your soul.'
“是的，”画家颓废地说，“但只有上帝能看到你的灵魂。”
A terrible laugh came from the younger man. 'Come, Basil,' he cried. 'Come with me! I will show you what only God can see me. Why not? It's your own work. You've talked enough about evil. Now you must look at it.'
多里安的发出一阵可怕笑声。“来，巴兹尔”他叫道，“跟我来，我给你看只有上帝能看到的东西。为什么不给你看呢？反正是你画的，你今天说了那么多罪孽的东西，现在你得亲眼看看了。”
He took Basil upstairs to the locked room. Inside, he turned to the artist, with smiling lips and cold, hard eyes. 'You're the one man in the world who should know my secret. Are you sure that your want to?'
他把巴兹尔带到顶楼那间锁着的房间。屋内，多里安面带笑意、但眼神冰凉地看向巴兹尔。“你是世界上那个可以知道我秘密的人，但你确定你想知道吗？”
'Yes,'
“我想知道。”
'Then uncover that picture, Basil, and you will see my soul.'
“那掀开画像上的布，巴兹尔，那就是我灵魂的样子。”
A cry of horror came from the artist when he saw the terrible face in the portrait. How could that evil and unlovely face be Dorian Gary's? But yes, it was. He went nearer to the picture. It could not be the portrait that he had painted. But yes, there was his name written in the corner. He turned and looked at Dorian Gary with the eyes of a sick man.
当画家看到画像上的可怕的脸时，吓得大叫。那张可怕的脸怎么可能会是多里安·格雷的那么？可那确实是。他走近画像，这一定不是他以前画的那画像，但就是那幅画，画像右下角还有他的签名。他转过身神情呆滞地看着多里安·格雷。
'What does this mean?' he asked at last.
“这是什么意思？”他最后问。
'When you finished the portrait,' replied Dorian. 'i made a wish...'
“当你画好画像时，”多里安说，“我许了愿……”
'I remember, yes,' said Basil. 'You wished that the picture could become old, and that you could stay young. But this ...'He stared again at the picture. 'This is impossible. And you told me that you'd destroyed the picture.'
“是的，我记得，”巴兹尔说，“你希望画像会变老，你能一直年轻。但这…”他又盯着画像看，“这不可能啊。你不是说你把画像毁了啊！”
'I was wrong. It has destroyed me.'
“我错了，是画像已经把我毁了。”
'My God, Dorian!' cried the artist. 'If this is true...If this is the face of your soul, then you are more evil than the worst of the stories about you.' He sat down at the table and put his face in his hands. 'You must ask God for his help.'
“天啊，多里安，”画家说，“如果这是真的…这张脸就是你灵魂，那你比人们说的你最坏的样子还要坏。”他坐在桌旁，用双手捂住脸。“你得祈祷上帝会帮你了。”
更多译文：
Ps:本书为牛津系列简易读物，作者是英国作家奥斯卡·王尔德。英文为书虫系列原文，译文是笔者翻译。
本文仅是个人兴趣而译，故本文谢绝转载和各种商业用途，再者承诺出现任何责任由本作者承担，必要时简书可删除文章。
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