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The Picture of Dorian Gray | Gradually Hardening Portuguese A1-B2 Books

The Picture of Dorian Gray | Gradually Hardening Portuguese A1-B2 Books

Experience the benefits of this forward-thinking translation strategy that tailors language learning to your specific needs. You have control over the difficulty, which ensures that the content is neither too easy nor overly challenging. This method enhances your ability to understand new words through context, reducing reliance on direct translations. While the translations are subtly obscured to foster learning, you can still look up unclear terms. This balanced approach makes language acquisition smoother and more enjoyable. Delve into these translated literary works and discover the satisfaction of mastering a language through reading.

THEPREFACE
Theartistis
o
thecreatorofbeautifulthings.
To
revelar
revealartandconcealthe
artista
artistisart’saim.
The
crítico
criticishewhocan
traduzir
translateintoanothermanneror
um
anewmaterialhisimpressionofbeautifulthings.
A
Thehighestasthelowest
forma
formofcriticismisamodeofautobiography.
Aqueles
Thosewhofinduglymeaningsinbeautifulthingsarecorrupt
sem
withoutbeingcharming.
Thisis
uma
afault.
Thosewhofindbeautifulmeaningsinbeautifulthingsare
os
thecultivated.
Forthesethereis
esperança
hope.
Theyaretheelecttowhombeautifulthings
significam
meanonlybeauty.
Thereis
não
nosuchthingasa
moral
moraloranimmoralbook.
Booksare
bem
wellwritten,orbadlywritten.
Que
Thatisall.
Thenineteenth
século
centurydislikeofrealismisthe
raiva
rageofCalibanseeinghis
próprio
ownfaceinaglass.
Thenineteenth
século
centurydislikeofromanticismisthe
raiva
rageofCalibannotseeinghis
próprio
ownfaceinaglass.
A
Themorallifeofmanforms
parte
partofthesubject-matterof
a
theartist,butthemoralityof
arte
artconsistsintheperfect
uso
useofanimperfectmedium.
No
artista
artistdesirestoproveanything.
Até
Eventhingsthataretrue
podem
canbeproved.
Noartist
tem
hasethicalsympathies.
Anethical
simpatia
sympathyinanartistisanunpardonablemannerismof
estilo
style.
Noartistisevermorbid.
O
Theartistcanexpresseverything.
Thought
e
andlanguagearetothe
artista
artistinstrumentsofanart.
Vício
Viceandvirtuearetothe
artista
artistmaterialsforanart.
Fromthe
ponto
pointofviewofform,the
tipo
typeofalltheartsisthe
arte
artofthemusician.
From
o
thepointofviewoffeeling,
o
theactor’scraftisthe
tipo
type.
Allartisatonce
superfície
surfaceandsymbol.
Thosewho
vão
gobeneaththesurfacedosoattheirperil.
Aqueles
Thosewhoreadthesymbol
fazem
dosoattheirperil.
Itisthespectator,
e
andnotlife,thatart
realmente
reallymirrors.
Diversityofopinion
sobre
aboutaworkofart
mostra
showsthattheworkis
nova
new,complex,andvital.
Whencritics
discordam
disagree,theartistisinaccordwithhimself.
We
podemos
canforgiveamanfor
fazer
makingausefulthingaslongashe
fazer
doesnotadmireit.
The
única
onlyexcuseformakinga
inútil
uselessthingisthatone
admira
admiresitintensely.
Allartisquite
inútil
useless.
CHAPTERI.
Thestudiowas
cheio
filledwiththerichodourofroses,
e
andwhenthelightsummer
vento
windstirredamidstthetreesofthe
jardim
garden,therecamethroughtheopen
porta
doortheheavyscentofthelilac,
ou
orthemoredelicateperfumeofthepink-flowering
espinho
thorn.
FromthecornerofthedivanofPersiansaddle-bagson
que
whichhewaslying,smoking,aswashis
costume
custom,innumerablecigarettes,LordHenryWotton
podia
couldjustcatchthegleamofthehoney-sweet
e
andhoney-colouredblossomsofalaburnum,
cujos
whosetremulousbranchesseemedhardlyableto
suportar
beartheburdenofa
beleza
beautysoflamelikeastheirs;
e
andnowandthenthefantasticshadowsofbirdsinflightflittedacrossthelongtussore-silkcurtainsthatwerestretchedin
frente
frontofthehugewindow,
produzindo
producingakindofmomentaryJapanese
efeito
effect,andmakinghimthinkofthosepallid,jade-facedpaintersofTokyowho,throughthe
meio
mediumofanartthatis
necessariamente
necessarilyimmobile,seektoconveythesenseofswiftness
e
andmotion.
Thesullenmurmurofthebeesshoulderingtheir
caminho
waythroughthelongunmown
grama
grass,orcirclingwithmonotonousinsistenceroundthedustygilthornsofthestragglingwoodbine,
parecia
seemedtomakethestillness
mais
moreoppressive.
ThedimroarofLondonwas
como
likethebourdonnoteof
um
adistantorgan.
Inthe
centro
centreoftheroom,clampedtoan
ereto
uprighteasel,stoodthefull-length
retrato
portraitofayoungmanofextraordinary
pessoal
personalbeauty,andinfrontof
ele
it,somelittledistanceaway,was
sentado
sittingtheartisthimself,BasilHallward,
cujo
whosesuddendisappearancesomeyears
há
agocaused,atthetime,
tal
suchpublicexcitementandgaverisetosomanystrangeconjectures.
Asthe
pintor
painterlookedatthegracious
e
andcomelyformhehadsoskilfully
espelhado
mirroredinhisart,a
sorriso
smileofpleasurepassedacrosshis
rosto
face,andseemedabouttolinger
lá
there.
Buthesuddenlystartedup,
e
andclosinghiseyes,placedhisfingersuponthelids,asthoughhe
procurou
soughttoimprisonwithinhis
cérebro
brainsomecuriousdreamfromwhichhe
temia
fearedhemightawake.
“Itisyour
melhor
bestwork,Basil,thebest
coisa
thingyouhaveeverdone,”
disse
saidLordHenrylanguidly.
“You
deve
mustcertainlysenditnext
ano
yeartotheGrosvenor.
The
Academia
Academyistoolargeandtoo
vulgar
vulgar.
WheneverIhavegone
lá
there,therehavebeeneithersomany
pessoas
peoplethatIhavenotbeenableto
ver
seethepictures,whichwas
terrível
dreadful,orsomanypicturesthatIhavenotbeenableto
ver
seethepeople,whichwas
pior
worse.
TheGrosvenorisreally
o
theonlyplace.”
“Idon’tthinkIshallsenditanywhere,”he
respondeu
answered,tossinghisheadbackinthatodd
maneira
waythatusedtomakehisfriends
rirem
laughathimatOxford.
“No,Iwon’tsenditanywhere.”
Lorde
LordHenryelevatedhiseyebrows
e
andlookedathiminamazement
através
throughthethinbluewreathsof
fumaça
smokethatcurledupin
tão
suchfancifulwhorlsfromhis
pesado
heavy,opium-taintedcigarette.
“Notsenditanywhere?
My
caro
dearfellow,why?
Haveyou
alguma
anyreason?
Whatoddchapsyoupainters
são
are!
Youdoanythinginthe
mundo
worldtogainareputation.
Assoonasyou
tem
haveone,youseemto
quer
wanttothrowitaway.
Itissillyofyou,forthereis
só
onlyonethinginthe
mundo
worldworsethanbeingtalkedabout,
e
andthatisnotbeing
falado
talkedabout.
Aportraitlike
este
thiswouldsetyoufarabove
todos
alltheyoungmeninEngland,
e
andmaketheoldmenquite
ciúmes
jealous,ifoldmenareevercapableof
qualquer
anyemotion.”
“Iknowyou
vai
willlaughatme,”he
respondeu
replied,“butIreallycan’texhibitit.
Ihaveputtoo
muito
muchofmyselfintoit.”
Lorde
LordHenrystretchedhimselfoutonthedivan
e
andlaughed.
“Yes,Iknewyou
ias
would;
butitisquitetrue,allthesame.”
“Toomuchofyourselfinit!
Uponmy
palavra
word,Basil,Ididn’tknowyouwereso
vaidoso
vain;
andIreallycan’t
ver
seeanyresemblancebetweenyou,
com
withyourruggedstrongface
e
andyourcoal-blackhair,and
este
thisyoungAdonis,wholooksasifhewas
feito
madeoutofivoryandrose-leaves.
Why,my
querido
dearBasil,heisaNarcissus,
e
andyou—well,ofcourseyou
tem
haveanintellectualexpressionand
tudo
allthat.
Butbeauty,real
beleza
beauty,endswhereanintellectual
expressão
expressionbegins.
Intellectisinitself
um
amodeofexaggeration,and
destrói
destroystheharmonyofany
rosto
face.
Themomentonesitsdownto
pensar
think,onebecomesallnose,
ou
orallforehead,orsomething
horrível
horrid.
Lookatthesuccessfulmenin
qualquer
anyofthelearnedprofessions.
Quão
Howperfectlyhideoustheyare!
Exceto
Except,ofcourse,inthe
Igreja
Church.
Buttheninthe
Igreja
Churchtheydon’tthink.
A
bispo
bishopkeepsonsayingattheageofeightywhathewas
dizer
toldtosaywhenhewas
um
aboyofeighteen,andas
um
anaturalconsequencehealwayslooks
absolutamente
absolutelydelightful.
Yourmysteriousyoung
amigo
friend,whosenameyouhave
nunca
nevertoldme,butwhose
foto
picturereallyfascinatesme,never
pensa
thinks.
Ifeelquitesureofthat.
Heissomebrainless
bonita
beautifulcreaturewhoshouldbe
sempre
alwayshereinwinterwhenwe
temos
havenoflowerstolookat,
e
andalwayshereinsummer
quando
whenwewantsomethingtochillour
inteligência
intelligence.
Don’tflatteryourself,Basil:
youarenotintheleast
como
likehim.”
“Youdon’tunderstand
me
me,Harry,”answeredtheartist.
“OfcourseIamnot
como
likehim.
Iknowthat
perfeitamente
perfectlywell.
Indeed,Ishouldbesorrytolooklike
ele
him.
Youshrugyourshoulders?
Iam
dizer
tellingyouthetruth.
Thereis
uma
afatalityaboutallphysical
e
andintellectualdistinction,thesortoffatality
que
thatseemstodogthrough
história
historythefalteringstepsofkings.
Itis
melhor
betternottobedifferentfromone’sfellows.
Theugly
e
andthestupidhavethe
melhor
bestofitinthis
mundo
world.
Theycansitattheirease
e
andgapeattheplay.
Se
Iftheyknownothingof
vitória
victory,theyareatleastsparedthe
conhecimento
knowledgeofdefeat.
Theyliveaswe
todos
allshouldlive—undisturbed,indifferent,and
sem
withoutdisquiet.
Theyneitherbring
ruína
ruinuponothers,norever
recebem
receiveitfromalienhands.
Yourrank
e
andwealth,Harry;
mybrains,
tal
suchastheyare—myart,
o
whateveritmaybeworth;
DorianGray’s
boa
goodlooks—weshallallsufferforwhatthegodshave
deram
givenus,sufferterribly.”
“DorianGray?
Isthathisname?”
perguntou
askedLordHenry,walkingacross
a
thestudiotowardsBasilHallward.
“Yes,thatishis
nome
name.
Ididn’tintendto
dizer
tellittoyou.”
“Butwhynot?”
“Oh,Ican’t
explicar
explain.
WhenIlikepeople
imensamente
immensely,Inevertelltheirnamestoanyone.
Itis
como
likesurrenderingapartof
deles
them.
Ihavegrownto
amar
lovesecrecy.
Itseemstobetheone
coisa
thingthatcanmakemodern
vida
lifemysteriousormarvellousto
nós
us.
Thecommonestthingisdelightful
se
ifoneonlyhidesit.
Quando
WhenIleavetownnowI
nunca
nevertellmypeoplewhereIam
vou
going.
IfIdid,Iwould
perderia
loseallmypleasure.
Itis
um
asillyhabit,Idare
dizer
say,butsomehowitseemsto
trazer
bringagreatdealof
romance
romanceintoone’slife.
I
suponho
supposeyouthinkmeawfully
tolo
foolishaboutit?”
“Notatall,”
respondeu
answeredLordHenry,“notatall,my
querido
dearBasil.
Youseemto
esquecer
forgetthatIammarried,
e
andtheonecharmof
casamento
marriageisthatitmakesa
vida
lifeofdeceptionabsolutelynecessaryfor
ambas
bothparties.
Ineverknow
onde
wheremywifeis,andmy
mulher
wifeneverknowswhatIam
fazer
doing.
Whenwemeet—wedo
encontramos
meetoccasionally,whenwedineout
juntos
together,orgodowntotheDuke’s—we
contamos
telleachotherthemostabsurdstories
com
withthemostseriousfaces.
My
mulher
wifeisverygoodatit—much
melhor
better,infact,thanIam.
She
nunca
nevergetsconfusedoverherdates,
e
andIalwaysdo.
But
quando
whenshedoesfindmeout,she
faz
makesnorowatall.
I
às vezes
sometimeswishshewould;
butshe
apenas
merelylaughsatme.”
“I
odeio
hatethewayyoutalk
sobre
aboutyourmarriedlife,Harry,”
disse
saidBasilHallward,strollingtowards
a
thedoorthatledinto
a
thegarden.
“Ibelievethatyouare
realmente
reallyaverygoodhusband,
mas
butthatyouarethoroughly
envergonhado
ashamedofyourownvirtues.
Youare
um
anextraordinaryfellow.
Younever
dizes
sayamoralthing,andyou
nunca
neverdoawrongthing.
Yourcynicismissimply
uma
apose.”
“Beingnaturalissimply
uma
apose,andthemostirritatingposeIknow,”cried
Lorde
LordHenry,laughing;
andthe
dois
twoyoungmenwentoutintothe
jardim
gardentogetherandensconcedthemselveson
um
alongbambooseatthat
ficava
stoodintheshadeof
um
atalllaurelbush.
The
sol
sunlightslippedoverthepolishedleaves.
In
as
thegrass,whitedaisiesweretremulous.
After
uma
apause,LordHenrypulledouthis
relógio
watch.
“IamafraidImustbe
ir
going,Basil,”hemurmured,“and
antes
beforeIgo,Iinsistonyour
responda
answeringaquestionIputtoyou
algum
sometimeago.”
“Whatisthat?”
disse
saidthepainter,keepinghiseyesfixedonthe
chão
ground.
“Youknowquitewell.”
“Idonot,Harry.”
“Well,I
vou
willtellyouwhatit
é
is.
Iwantyouto
expliques
explaintomewhyyouwon’t
exibir
exhibitDorianGray’spicture.
I
quero
wanttherealreason.”
“I
disse
toldyoutherealreason.”
“No,you
fizeste
didnot.
Yousaiditwas
porque
becausetherewastoomuchofyourselfin
que
it.
Now,thatischildish.”
“Harry,”
disse
saidBasilHallward,lookinghimstraightin
o
theface,“everyportraitthatis
pintado
paintedwithfeelingisa
retrato
portraitoftheartist,notof
o
thesitter.
Thesitteris
apenas
merelytheaccident,theoccasion.
Itisnothewhois
revelado
revealedbythepainter;
itisrather
o
thepainterwho,onthecoloured
tela
canvas,revealshimself.
ThereasonI
vou
willnotexhibitthispictureisthatIam
medo
afraidthatIhaveshowninitthe
segredo
secretofmyownsoul.”
Lorde
LordHenrylaughed.
“Andwhatisthat?”
he
perguntou
asked.
“Iwilltellyou,”saidHallward;
mas
butanexpressionofperplexity
veio
cameoverhisface.
“Iam
toda
allexpectation,Basil,”continuedhis
companheiro
companion,glancingathim.
“Oh,thereis
realmente
reallyverylittletotell,Harry,”
respondeu
answeredthepainter;
“andIam
receio
afraidyouwillhardlyunderstand
que
it.
Perhapsyouwillhardly
acredites
believeit.”
LordHenrysmiled,
e
andleaningdown,pluckedapink-petalleddaisyfromthe
grama
grassandexaminedit.
“Iamquite
certo
sureIshallunderstandit,”he
respondeu
replied,gazingintentlyatthe
pequeno
littlegolden,white-feathereddisk,“andasfor
acreditar
believingthings,Icanbelieve
qualquer coisa
anything,providedthatitisquiteincredible.”
The
vento
windshooksomeblossomsfromthetrees,
e
andtheheavylilac-blooms,withtheirclusteringstars,
moviam
movedtoandfrointhelanguid
ar
air.
Agrasshopperbegantochirrupbythe
parede
wall,andlikeablue
fio
threadalongthindragon-fly
flutuando
floatedpastonitsbrowngauzewings.
Lorde
LordHenryfeltasifhe
pudesse
couldhearBasilHallward’sheart
bater
beating,andwonderedwhatwas
vindo
coming.
“Thestoryissimplythis,”
disse
saidthepainteraftersome
tempo
time.
“TwomonthsagoIwentto
uma
acrushatLadyBrandon’s.
You
sabes
knowwepoorartistshaveto
mostrar
showourselvesinsocietyfrom
vez
timetotime,justto
lembrar
remindthepublicthatwearenotsavages.
Com
Withaneveningcoatandawhite
gravata
tie,asyoutoldmeonce,anybody,evenastock-broker,
pode
cangainareputationforbeingcivilized.
Bem
Well,afterIhadbeeninthe
sala
roomabouttenminutes,talkingtohugeoverdresseddowagers
e
andtediousacademicians,Isuddenly
fiquei
becameconsciousthatsomeonewas
olhando
lookingatme.
Iturned
a meio caminho
half-wayroundandsawDorianGrayfor
a
thefirsttime.
Whenoureyes
encontraram
met,IfeltthatIwasgrowing
pálido
pale.
Acurioussensationof
terror
terrorcameoverme.
I
sabia
knewthatIhadcomefacetoface
com
withsomeonewhosemere
personalidade
personalitywassofascinatingthat,
se
ifIalloweditto
fizesse
doso,itwouldabsorbmywhole
natureza
nature,mywholesoul,myvery
arte
artitself.
Ididnot
queria
wantanyexternalinfluenceinmy
vida
life.
Youknowyourself,Harry,
quão
howindependentIamby
natureza
nature.
Ihavealwaysbeenmy
próprio
ownmaster;
hadatleast
sempre
alwaysbeenso,tillI
conhecer
metDorianGray.
Then—butIdon’t
sei
knowhowtoexplainittoyou.
Algo
Somethingseemedtotellme
que
thatIwasonthe
beira
vergeofaterriblecrisisinmy
vida
life.
Ihadastrangefeeling
que
thatfatehadinstoreformeexquisitejoys
e
andexquisitesorrows.
Igrewafraid
e
andturnedtoquitthe
sala
room.
Itwasnotconsciencethat
fez
mademedoso:
itwas
uma
asortofcowardice.
Itake
não
nocredittomyselffor
tentado
tryingtoescape.”
“Conscienceand
covardia
cowardicearereallythesamethings,Basil.
Consciência
Conscienceisthetrade-nameof
o
thefirm.
Thatisall.”
“Idon’t
acredito
believethat,Harry,andIdon’t
acredito
believeyoudoeither.
However,whateverwasmymotive—andit
pode
mayhavebeenpride,forIusedtobe
muito
veryproud—Icertainlystruggledtothe
porta
door.
There,ofcourse,I
tropecei
stumbledagainstLadyBrandon.
‘Youarenot
vai
goingtorunawaysosoon,Mr.Hallward?’she
gritou
screamedout.
Youknowhercuriouslyshrillvoice?”
“Yes;
sheis
um
apeacockineverythingbutbeauty,”
disse
saidLordHenry,pullingthedaisytobits
com
withhislongnervousfingers.
“Icouldnot
consegui
getridofher.
Shebroughtmeuptoroyalties,
e
andpeoplewithstarsandgarters,
e
andelderlyladieswithgigantictiaras
e
andparrotnoses.
Shespokeofmeasherdearestfriend.
I
tinha
hadonlymetheroncebefore,
mas
butshetookitintoherheadtolionize
mim
me.
Ibelievesomepictureofminehadmadea
grande
greatsuccessatthetime,at
menos
leasthadbeenchatteredaboutin
o
thepennynewspapers,whichis
o
thenineteenth-centurystandardofimmortality.
SuddenlyI
encontrei
foundmyselffacetoface
com
withtheyoungmanwhose
personalidade
personalityhadsostrangelystirred
me
me.