The Brooklyn Citizen - Wednesday, April 3, 1895
This report was originally published in English. Machine translations may be available in other languages.
WILDE’S LIBEL SUIT.
He and the Marquis Were
On the Stand To-Day.
A SCENE AT OLD BAILEY
Queensberry Attempted to Assault the
Aesthetic Complainant.
THAT LETTER READ IN COURT.
Oscar Told How He Came to Write It
To
Lord Douglass––He Denied Queens-
Berry’s Charges, and Described a
Scene Between Himself and the
Marquis––Some Admissions on Cross-
Examination.
LONDON, April 3.– The Central Criminal Court, Old Bailey, was densely packed with people long before the hour of opening -- 10:30 a.m. -- to–day, the attraction being the trial of the action of Oscar Wilde against the Marquis of Queensberry for libel. Justice Collins took his seat on the bench promptly at 10:30 o’clock, and the case was called. The prosecution was conducted by Sir Edward Clarke, Q.C.M.P. and the Marquis of Queensberry was defended by Mr. Edward H. Carson, Q.C.M.P. Lawyer Besley watched the proceedings on behalf of Lord Douglas, of Hawick.
LONDON April 3. - The Central Criminal Court, Old Bailey, was densely packed with people long before the hour of opening - 10:30 A.M. today, the attraction being the trial of the action of Oscar Wilde against the marquis of Queensberry for libel. Justice Collins took his seat on the bench promptly at 10:30, and the case was called. The prosecution was conducted by Sir Edward Clarke, Q.C., M.P., and the Marquis of Queensberry was defended by Edward H. Carson, Q.C., M.P. Lawyer Besley watched the proceedings on behalf of Lord Douglas of Hawick.
London, April 3.—The central criminal court, Old Bailey, was densely packed with people long before the hour of opening at 10:30 a. M. to-day, the attraction being the trial of the action of Oscar Wilde against the Marquis of Queensberry for libel. Justice Collins took his seat on the bench promptly at 10:30, and the case was called. The prosecution was conducted by Sir Edward Clarke, Q. C., M. P., and the Marquis of Queensberry was defended by Mr. Edward H. Carson, Q. C., M. P. Lawyer Besley watched the proceedings on behalf of Lord Douglas, of Harwick.
London, April 3.- The Central Criminal Court, Old Bailey, was densely packed with people long before the hour of opening, 10:30 a.m., to-day, the attraction being the trial of the action of Oscar Wilde against the Marquis of Queensberry for libel. Justice Collins took his seat on the bench at 10:30. The prosecution was conducted by Sir Edward Clarke, Q-C., M-P., and the Marquis of Queensberry was defended by Edward H. Carson, Q.C., M.P. Lawyer Besley watched the proceedings on behalf of Lord Douglas of Hawick.
London. Apr. 3. -- The central criminal court, Old Bailey, was densely packed with people long before the hoiur of opening-10:30 A.M.-today, the attraction being the trial of the action of Oscar Wilde against the Marquis of Queensberry for libel. The prosecution was conducted by Sir Edward Clarke, and the Marquis of Queensberry was defended by Mr. Edward H. Carson. Lawyer Besley watched the proceedings on behalf of Lord Douglas of Hawick.
London, April 3.j - The Central Criminal Court, Old Bailey, was densely packed with people long before the hour of opening - 10:30 A.M. - today, the attraction being the trial of the action of Oscar Wilde against the Marquis of Queensberry for libel. Justice Collins took his seat on the bench promptly at 10:30, and the case was called.
The Marquis of Queensberry pleaded not guilty, adding that the so-called libel was true and made known is the interest of public morality.
The Marquis of Queensberry pleaded not guilty, adding that the so-called libel was true and had been made known in the interest of public morality.
The Marquis of Queensberry entered the dock, and pleaded not guilty, adding that the so-called libel was true, and had been made known in the interest of public morality.
The Marquis of Queensberry, in answer to the usual questions, pleaded not guilty, adding that the so-called libel was true, and had been made known in the interest of public morality.
The marquis of Queensberry, in answer to the usual questions, pleaded not guilty, adding that the so-called libel was true and had been made known in the interest of public morality.
The marquis of Queensberry, in answer to the usual questions, pleaded not guilty, adding that the so-called libel was true and had been made known in the interest of public morality.
The marquis of Queensberry entered the dock and, in answer to the usual questions, pleaded not guilty, adding that the so-called libel was true and had been made known in the interest of public morality.
The Marquis of Queensberry entered the dock and in answer to the usual questions pleaded "not guilty," adding that the so-called libel was true and had been made known in the interest of public morality.
The Marquis of Queensberry entered the dock, and, in answer to the usual questions, pleaded not guilty, adding that the so-called libel was true and had been made known in the interest of public morality.
The Marquis of Queensberry entered the dock and, in answer to the usual questions, pleaded not guilty, adding that the so-called libel was true, and had been made known in the interest of public morality.
Sir Edward Clarke, in opening the case, reviewed the evidence taken in the public court, dwelling upon the writing of the card which constituted the libel complained of. This writing alleged that Mr. Wilde had been posing immorally. The Marquis, Sir Edward said, had also accused Mr. Wilde of having solicited a number of gentlemen to engage with him in a series of grave offenses. Several of these gentlemen would be called to deny whatever the Marquis might say on cross-examination.
Sir Edward Clarke, in opening the case, reviewed the evidence taken in the police court, dwelling upon the writing of the card which constituted the libel complained of. It would be noticed, he said, that it was not charged that there was any actual offence, but the gravity of the case consisted in the fact that the libels complained of had extended over a long period of time. The Marquis of Queensberry, Sir Edward said, had also accused Mr. Wilde of having solicited a number of gentlemen to engage with him in a series of grave offences. Several of these gentlemen would be called to deny whatever the Marquis might say on cross-examination.
Sir Edward Clarke, in opening the case, reviewed the evidence taken in the Police court, dwelling upon the writing on the card which constituted the libel complained of. This writing alleged that Mr. Wilde had been posing immorally. It would be noticed, he said, that it was not charged that there was any actual offence, but the gravity of the case consisted in the fact that the libels complained of had extended over a long period of time. The Marquis, Sir Edward said, had also accused Mr. Wilde of having solicited a number of gentlemen to engage with him in a series of grave offences. Several of these gentlemen would be called to deny whatever the Marquis might say on cross-examination.
Sid Edward Clarke, in opening the case, reviewed the evidence taken in the Police Court, dwelling upon the writing on the card on which constituted the libel complained of. This writing alleged that Mr. Wilde had been posing morally. It would be noticed, he said, that it was not charged that there was any actual difference, but the gravity of the case consisted in the fact that the libels complained of had extended over a long period of time. The Marquis of Queensberry, Sid Edward said, has also accused Mr. Wilde of having solicited a number of gentlemen to engage with him in a series of grave offenses. Several of these gentlemen would be called to deny whatever the Marquis might say on cross-examination.
Sir Edward Clarke, in opening the case, reviewed the evidence taken in the Police Court dwelling upon the writing on the card which constituted the libel complained of. This writing alleged that Mr. Wilde had been posing immorally. It would be noticed, he said, that it was not charged that there was any actual ofence[sic] but, the gravity of the case consisted in the fact that the libels complained of had extended over a long period of time. The Marquis of Queensberry, Sir Edward said, had also accused Mr. Wilde of having solicited a number of gentlemen to engage in a series of grave offences. Several of these gentlemen would be called to deny whatever the Marquis might say on cross-examination.
It had been noticed, he said, that it was not charged that there was any actual offense, but the gravity of the case consisted in the fact that the libels complained of had extended over a long period of time. The Marquis of Queensberry, Sir Edward said, had also accused Mr. Wilde of having solicited a number of gentlemen to engage with him in a series of grave offenses. Several of these gentlemen would be called to deny whatever the Marquis might say on cross-examination.
Sir Edward Clarke, in opening the case, reviewed the evidence taken in the police court, dwelling upon the writing on the card which constituted the libel complained of. This writing alleged that Mr. Wilde had been posing immorally. It would be noticed, he said, that it was not charged that there was any actual offense but, the gravity of the case consisted in the fact that the libels complained of had extended over a long period of time. The marquis of Queensberry, Sir Edward said, had also accused Mr. Wilde of grave offenses. Several of the gentlemen implicated would be called to deny whatever the marquis might say on cross-examination.
Sir Edward Clarke, in opening the case, reviewed the evidence taken in the police court, dwelling on the writing on the card which constituted the libel complained of. The gravity of the case, he said, consisted in the fact that the libels had extended over a long period of time. Several persons implicated in the charges made would be called to deny whatever the Marquis might say on cross-examination.
Sir Edward Clarke, in opening the case, reviewed the evidence taken in the Police Court, dwelling upon the writing on the card which constituted the libel complained of. This writing alleged that Mr Wilde had been posing immorally. It would be noticed, he said, that it was not charged that there was any actual offence, but the gravity of the case consisted in the fact that the libels complained of had extended over a long period of time.
At this point the Marquis, who, with clenched fists, sat glaring at Mr. Wilde, made a movement as though he intended to attack him, and he undoubtedly would have done so had it not been for the persons between them.
At this point the marquis, who, with clenched fists, sat glaring at Mr. Wilde, made a movement as though he intended to attack him, and he undoubtedly would have done so had it not been for the persons between them.
At this point the marquis, who, with clenched fists, sat glaring at Mr Wilde, made a movement as though he intended to attack him, and he undoubtedly would have done so had it not been for the persons between them.
At this point the marquis, who, with clenched fists, sat glaring at Mr Wilde, made a movement as though he intended to attack him, and he undoubtedly would have done so had it not been for the persons between them.
At this point the Marquis, who, with clenched fists, sat glaring at Mr. Wilde, made a movement as though he intended to attack him, and he undoubtedly would have done so had it not been for the persons between them.
At this point the Marquis, who with clenched fists sat glaring at Mr. Wilde, made a movement as though he intended to attack him, and he undoubtedly would have done so had it not been for the persons between them.
At this point the Marquis, who, with clinched fists, sat glaring at Mr. Wilde, made a movement as though he intended to attack him, and he undoubtedly would have done so had it not been for the persons between them.
At this point the marquis, who, with clinched fists, sat glaring at Mr. Wilde, made a movement as though he intended to attack him, and he undoubtedly would have done so had it not been for the persons between them.
At this point the Marquis, who, with clenched fists, sat glaring at Mr. Wilds, made a movement as though he intended to attack him, and he undoubtedly would have done so had it not been for the persons between them.
At this point the marquis, who, with clenched fists, sat, glaring at Wilde, made a movement as thought he intended to attack him and he undoubtedly would have done so had it not been for the persons between them.
At this point the Marquis, who with clenched fists sat glaring at Mr. Wilde, made a movement as though he intended to attack him, and he would undoubtedly have done so had it not been for the persons between them.
During Sir Edward's speech the Marquis, who, with clenched fists, sat glaring at Mr. Wilde, made a movement as though he intended to attack him, and he undoubtedly would have done so had it not been for the persons between them.
Sir Edward said that Mr. Wilde had been a close friend of the Queensberry family until 1890, when he learned that offensive statements were being made against him by a man named Wood, who had either stolen or found some letters written by Mr. Wilde to Lord Alfred Douglas. Wood offered to return these letters for money, and afterward, at Wood’s entreaty, Mr. Wilde paid his fare to America.
Sir Edward, continuing, said that Mr. Wilde had been a close friend of the Queensberry family, until 1890, when he learned that offensive statements were being made against him by a man named Wood, who had either stolen or found some letters written by Mr. Wilde to Lord Alfred Douglas. Wood offered to return these letters for money, and afterward, at Wood’s earnest entreaty, Mr. Wilde paid his fare to America.
Sir Edward, continuing, said that Mr. Wilde had been a close friend of the Queensberry family until 1890, when he learned that offensive statements were being made against him by a man named Wood, who had either stolen or found some letters written by Mr. Wilde to Lord Alfred Douglas. Wood offered to return these letters for money, and afterward, at Wood's earnest entreaty, Mr. Wilde paid his fare to America. Later Mr. Wilde learned that two men named Knebly and Allen pretended to have in their possession compromising letters, but Mr. Wilde refused to purchase them.
Sir Edward, continuing, said that Mr. Wilde had been a close friend of the Queensberry family until 189O, when he learned that offensive statements were being made against him by a man named Wood, who had either stolen or found some letters written by Mr. Wilde to Lord Alfred Douglas. Wood offered to return these letters for money, and afterward, at Wood's earnest entreaty, Mr. Wilde paid his fare to America. Later Mr. Wilde learned that two men named Knebly and Allen pretended to have in their possession compromising letters, but Mr. Wilde refused to purchase them.
Sir Edward, continuing, said that Mr Wilde had been a close friend of the Queensberry family until 1890, when he learned that offensive statements were being made against him by a man named Wood, who had either stolen or found some letters written by Mr Wilde to Lord Alfred Douglas.
Sir Edward, continuing, said that Mr. Wilde had been a close friend of the Queensberry family until 1890, when he learned that offensive statements were being made against him by a man named Wood, who had either stolen or found some letters written by M.r. Wilde to Lord Albert Douglas.
Sir Edward, continuing, said that Mr. Wilde had been a friend of the Queensberry family until 1890, when he learned that offensive statements were being made against him by a man named Wood, who had either stolen or found some letters written by Mr Wilde to Lord Alfred Douglas.
Mr. Wilde, he said, admitted having written in 1895 a most extravagant letter to Lord Alfred Douglas, in answer to a poem the latter had written. Despite the sentiments expressed in this letter, the jury must take into consideration the artistic circle in which Mr. Wilde moved. Mr. Wilde himself described this letter as a "prose sunset."
Mr. Wilde, he said, admitted having written in 1893 a most extravagant letter to Lord Douglas, in answer to a poem the latter had written. Despite the sentiments expressed in this letter the jury must take into consideration the artistic circle in which Mr. Wilde moved. Mr. Wilde himself described this letter as a "prose sonnet."
Mr. Wilde, Sir Edward said, admitted having written in 1893 a most extravagant letter to Lord Alfred Douglas, in answer to a poem the latter had written. Despite the sentiments expressed In this letter, the jury must take Into consideration the artistic circle in which Mr. Wilde moved. Mr. Wilde himself described this letter as a "prose sonnet."
Later, Mr. Wilde learns that two men named Knebly and Allen pretended to have in their possession compromising letters, but Mr. Wilde refused to purchase them. Mr. Wilde, he said, admitted having written in 1893 in most extravagant letter to Lord Alfred Douglas in answer to a poem the latter had written. Despite the sentiments expressed in this letter, the jury must take into consideration the artistic circle in which Mr. Wilde moved. The latter himself described this letter as a "prose sonnet."
The letter which Mr. Wilde had written to Lord Alfred Douglas was read as follows:
The letter which Mr. Wilde had written to Lord Alfred Douglas was read, as follows:
The letter which Mr. Wilde had written to Lord Alfred Douglas was read as follows:
The letter which Mr. Wilde had written to Lord Alfred Douglas was read, as follows:
The letter which Mr Wilde had written to Lord Alfred Douglas was read, as follows:
The letter which Mr Wilde had written to Lord Alfred Douglas was read, as follows:
The letter which Mr. Wilde had written to Lord Alfred Douglas was read, as follows:
The letter which Mr. Wilde had written to Lord Alfred Douglas was read, as follows:
The letter which Mr. Wilde had written to Lord Albert Douglas was read as follows:
The letter which Mr. Wilde had written to Lord Albert Douglas was read, as follows:
The letter which Mr. Wilde had written to Lord Alfred Douglass was read and is as follows:--
The letter which Mr. Wild had written to Lord Alfred Douglas was read, and is as follows:
"My dear boy: Your sonnet is quite lovely. Your rose-leaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim, gilt soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first."
"MY DEAR BOY: Your sonnet is quite lovely. Your rose-leaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim, gilt soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come here whenever you like but go to Salisbury first."
My Dear Boy - Your sonnet is quite lovely. Your roseleaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim, gilt soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first.
"My Dear Boy,- Your sonnet is quite lovely. Your rose-leaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim, gilt soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first."
My Dear Boy, - Your sonnet is quite lovely. Your roseleaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim, gilt soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first.
My Dear Boy: Your sonnet is quite lovely. Your rose-leaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim, gilt soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first.
"MY DEAR BOY Your sonnet is quite lovely. your roseleaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim. gilt soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come where whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first."
"My dear boy - Your sonnet is quite lively. Your roseleaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim, gilt soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first."
"My dear boy - Your sonnet is quite lively. Your roseleaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim, gilt soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first."
"My Dear Boy: Your sonnet is quite lovely. Your roseleaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim-gill soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthu, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first."
"MY OWN BOY: Your sonnet is quite lovely. Your rose-leaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim, gilt soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first."
Mr Dear Boy: Your sonnet is quite lovely. Your roseleaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim, gilt soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was like you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first.
"My dear boy: Your sonnet is quite lovely. Your roseleaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim, gilt soul walks betweens poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London and when do you go to. Salisbury? Do you sleep fih the gray twilight of the Gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first."
"MY DEAR BOY: Your sonnet is quite lovely. Your rose-leaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim, gilt soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who loved Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first."
"My Dear Boy--Your sonnet is quite lovely. Your roseleaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim, gilt soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London and when you do you go to Swisburne? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first."
My Dear Boy: Your sonnet is quite lovely. Your rose-leaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim, gilt soul walks betweens poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London and when do you go to. Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of the Gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first. With undying love,
OSCAR.
The letter which Mr. Wilde has written Lord Albert Douglas was read and is as follows: — " My dear boy, your sonnet is quite lovely. Your rose leaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim gilt soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first. "
My own dear boy-
Your sonnet is quite lovely and it is a marvel that those red roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know that Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things and come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place; it only lacks you, but to Salisbury first. Always with undying love, yours
Oscar.
My Own Boy, - Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus who Apollo loved so madly was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the gray twilight of Gothic things. Come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place, and only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love. - Yours,
OSCAR.
My Own Boy,—Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red-roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim-gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus loved by Apollo was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things. Come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place and only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love.—Yours, Oscar.
My Own Boy,— Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red-roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus whom Apollo loved so madly was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you go there and cool your hands in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place, and only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love.—Yours, OSCAR.
My own boy,—Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red roseleaf lips of yours should have been made no less for music of song than for madness of kisses. Your slim gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there to cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things, and come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place—it only lacks you; but go to Salisbury first.—Always with undying love, yours, Oscar."
My Own Boy,—Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red rose-leaf lips of yours should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim-built soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things. Come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place, and only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love.—Yours, Oscar.
My own boy, — Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red roseleaf lips of yours should have been made no less for music of song than for madness of kisses. Your slim gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there to cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things, and come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place — it only lacks you; but go to Salisbury first. — Always with undying love, yours, OSCAR."
My own dear boy — Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for music of song than for madness of kissing. Your slim-gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things, and come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place. It only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love, yours, OSCAR.
My own dear boy — Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for music of song than for madness of kissing. Your slim-gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things, and come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place. It only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love, yours, OSCAR.
MY OWN BOY—Your sonnet is quite lovely and it is a marvel that those red roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim-built soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things. Come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place, and only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love.—Yours, OSCAR.
"My own dear Boy,— Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red-rose lips of yours should be made no less for music of song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim-gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London? When do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things and come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place. It only lacks you; but go to Salisbury first—Always, with undying love, yours, OSCAR."
My Own Boy—Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red roseleaf lips of yourself should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim-built soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things. Come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place, and only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love.—Yours, Oscar.
"My own Boy--Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red-roseleaf lips should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim-built soul walks between passion and poetry. No Hyacinthus followed Love so madly as you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the gray twilight of Gothic-things. Come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place and only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love, Yours, OSCAR."
"My own Boy, - Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red-rose leaf lips of yours should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim-built soul walks between passion and poetry. No Hyacinthus followed Love so madly as you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the gray twilight of Gothic things. Come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place and only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love, Yours, Oscar."
My own boy,—Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim-built soul walks between passion and poetry. No Hyacinthus followed love so madly as you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things. Come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place, and only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love yours, Oscar.
"My Own boy,-Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red-roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim-built soul walks between passion and poetry. No Hyacinthus followed Love and so madly as you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things. Come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place and only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love. -Yours, OSCAR."
Mr. Wilde testified that when the Marquis of Queensberry called at his house, in 1892, Mr. Wilde asked him whether he had come to apologise, but Queensberry, instead of apologising, declared that he (Wilde) had taken furnished rooms for Lord Alfred Douglas. Wilde asked the Marquis if he really accused him of the crime implied, whereupon the Marquis replied:
When the Marquis of Queensberry called at his house in 1893, Mr. Wilde asked him whether he had come to apologize, but Queensberry, instead of apologizing, declared that he (Wilde) had taken furnished rooms for Lord Alfred Douglas. Wilde asked the marquis if he really accused him of the crime implied, whereupon the marquis replied:
When the marquis of Queensberry called at his house, in 1893, Mr Wilde asked him whether he had come to apologize, but Queensberry, instead of apologizing, declared that he (Wilde) had taken furnished rooms for Lord Alfred Douglas.
When the marquis of Queensberry called at his house, in 1893, Mr Wilde asked him whether he had come to apologize, but Queensberry, instead of apologizing, declared that he (Wilde) had taken furnished rooms for Lord Alfred Douglas.
"You look it, and if I ever catch you with my son again I will thrash you."
"You look it, and if I ever catch you with my son again, I will thrash you."
"You look it, and if ever I catch you with my son again I will thrash you."
Mr. Wilde said he replied to the Marquis: "I don’t know the Queensberry rules, but the Oscar Wilde rules are short and at sight. The letters you have written about me are infamous. You are trying to ruin your son through me. Then when we were in the fall I said to a servant: "This is the Marquis of Queensberry, the most infamous brute in London. Do not let him enter the house again.'"
Mr. Wilde, continuing, said he replied to the Marquis: "I don't know the Queensberry rules, but the Oscar Wilde rules are short and at sight. The letters you have written about me are infamous. You are trying to ruin your son through me." Then, when we were in the hall, I said to a servant: "This is the Marquis of Queensberry, the most infamous brute in London. Do not let him enter the house again."
Mr. Wilde continuing, said he replied to the marquis: "I don’t know the Queensberry rules, but the Oscar Wilde rules are short and at sight. The letters you have written about me are infamous. You are trying to ruin your son through me. Then when we were in the hall I said to a servant: This is the Marquis of Queensberry, the most infamous brute in London. Do not let him enter the house again."
Mr. Wilde, continuing, said he replied to the Marquis: "'I don't know the Queensberry rules, but the Oscar Wilde rules are short and at sight. The letters you have written about me are infamous. You are trying to ruin your son through me.' Then, when we were in the hall, I said to the servant: 'This is the Marquis of Queensberry, the most infamous brute in London. Do not let him enter the house again.'"
Mr. Wilde, continuing, said he replied to the Marquis: "I don't know Queensberry rules, but the Oscar Wilde rules are short and at sight. The letters you have written about me are infamous. You are trying to ruin your son through me." Then when they were in the hall he said to his servant: "This is the Marquis of Queensberry, the most infamous brute in London. Do not let him enter the house again."
Mr. Wilde, continuing, said he replied, "I don’t know the Queensberry rules, but the Oscar Wilde rules are short and at sight. The letters you have written about me are infamous. You are trying to ruin your son through me." Then when they were in the hall he said to a servant: "This is the Marquis of Queensbury, the most infamous brute in London. Do not let him enter the house again."
Mr Wilde, continuing, said he replied to the marquis: "I don't know the Queensberry rules, but the Oscar Wilde rules are short and at sight. The letters you have written about me are infamous. Then when we were in the hall I said to a servant: ‘This is the marquis of Queensberry, the most infamous brute in London. Do not let him enter the house again.'"
Mr Wilde, continuing, said he replied to the marquis: "I don't know the Queensberry rules, but the Oscar Wilde rules are short and at sight. The letters you have written about me are infamous. Then when we were in the hall I said to a servant: 'This is the marquis of Queensberry, the most infamous brute in London. Do not let him enter the house again.'"
Mr. Wilde, continuing, said he replied to the Marquis: "I don't know the Queensberry rules, but the Oscar Wilde rules are short and at sight. The letters you have written about me are infamous. You are trying to ruin your son through me. Then when we were in the hall I said to a servant: 'This is the Marquis of Queensberry, the most
Mr. Wilde said it was absolutely untrue that he had taken rooms for Lord Alfred Douglas, or that he had stopped with him at the Savoy Hotel. Cross-examined by Mr. Carson, Mr. Wilde admitted that he had stayed with Lord Alref Douglas, Mr. Crener and Mr. Worthing at various hotels in London.
Referring to his publications, "Philosophy for the Young," Mr. Carson asked Mr. Wilde if he believed what he had written. Mr. Wilde answered: "I rarely write what I believe is true." Continuing, Mr. Wilde said he believed that the realization of self is the prima end of life.
Referring to his publication "Philosophy for the Young," Mr. Carson asked Mr. Wilde if he believed what he had written. Mr. Wilde answered: "I rarely write what I believe is true." Continuing, Mr. Wilde said he believed that the realization of self was the primal end of life.
Referring to his publication, "Philosophy for the Young," Mr. Carson asked Mr. Wilde if he believed what he had written. Mr. Wilde answered: "I rarely write what I believe is true." Continuing, Mr. Wilde said he believed that "the realization of self was the primal end of life."
Referring to his publication, "Philosophy for the Young," Mr. Carson asked Mr. Wilde if he believed what he had written. Mr. Wilde answered: "I rarely write what I believe is true." Continuing, Mr. Wilde said that he believed that the realization of self was the primal end of life.
Referring to his publication, "Philosophy for the Young," Mr. Carson asked Mr. Wilde if he believed what he had written. Mr. Wilde answered: "I rarely write what I believe is true."
Referring to his publication, "Philosophy for the Young," Mr. Carson asked Mr. Wilde if he believed what he had written. Mr. Wilde answered, " I rarely write what I believe is true."
The court adjourned.
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