FOOTNOTES: 

[28] Cfr.  Appendix:  “Criticisms by Robert Ross.”

[29] The incident is worth recording for the honour of human nature.  At the moment of Oscar’s trial Charles Wyndham had let his theatre, the Criterion, to Lewis Waller and H.H.  Morell to produce in it “An Ideal Husband” which had been running for over 100 nights at the Haymarket.  When Alexander took Oscar’s name off the bill, Wyndham wrote to the young Managers, saying that, if under the altered circumstances they wished to cancel their agreement, he would allow them to do so.  But if they “put on” a play of Mr. Wilde’s, the author’s name must be on all the bills and placards as usual.  He could not allow his theatre to be used to insult a man who was on his trial.

[30] Cfr. end of Appendix:—­A Last Word.

[31] Cfr. end of Appendix:—­A Last Word.

[32] This was written years before a Home Secretary, Mr. Reginald MacKenna, tortured women and girls in prison in England by forcible feeding, because they tried to present petitions in favour of Woman’s Suffrage.  He afterwards defended himself in Parliament by declaring that “‘forcible feeding’ was not unpleasant.”  The torturers of the Inquisition also befouled cruelty with hypocritical falsehood:  they would burn their victims; but would not shed blood.

CHAPTER XXV

    “The Gods are just and of our pleasant vices
    Make instruments to plague us.”

It was full summer before I met Oscar again; he had come back to Paris and taken up his old quarters in the mean little hotel in the Rue des Beaux Arts.  He lunched and dined with me as usual.  His talk was as humorous and charming as ever, and he was just as engaging a companion.  For the first time, however, he complained of his health: 

“I ate some mussels and oysters in Italy, and they must have poisoned me; for I have come out in great red blotches all over my arms and chest and back, and I don’t feel well.”

“Have you consulted a doctor?”

“Oh, yes, but doctors are no good:  they all advise you differently; the best of it is they all listen to you with an air of intense interest when you are talking about yourself—­which is an excellent tonic.”

“They sometimes tell one what’s the matter; give a name and significance to the unknown,” I interjected.

“They bore me by forbidding me to smoke and drink.  They are worse than M——­, who grudged me his wine.”

“What do you mean?” I asked in wonder.

“A tragi-comic history, Frank.  You were so right about M——­ and I was mistaken in him.  You know he wanted me to stay with him at Gland in Switzerland, begged me to come, said he would do everything for me.  When the weather got warm at Genoa I went to him.  At first he seemed very glad to see me and made me welcome.  The food was not very good, the drink anything but good,