The picture of Dorian Gray

As soon as it was over, Dorian Gray rushed behind the scenes into the greenroom. When he entered the room, Sibyl Vane looked at him, and an expression of infinite joy came over her. "How badly I acted tonight, Dorian!" she cried. "Horribly!" he answered, gazing at her in amazement. "Horribly! It was dreadful. Are you ill? You have no idea what I suffered."

"Dorian," she answered, "you should have understood. But you understand now, don't you?" "Understand what?" he asked, angrily. "Why I was so bad tonight. Why I shall always be bad. Why I shall never act well again."

"Dorian," she cried, "before I knew you, acting was the one reality of my life. It was only in the theatre that I lived. You taught me what reality really is. Tonight, for the first time in my life, I saw through the silliness of the empty theatre in which I had always played. You had made me understand what love really is. Even if I could do it, it would be an offence for me to play at being in love. You have made me see that."

He threw himself down on the sofa and turned away his face. "You have killed my love," he muttered. "You used to stir my imagination. Now you don't even stir my curiosity. I loved you because you were marvellous, because you had genius and intellect. You are nothing to me now. I will never see you again. Without your art you are nothing."

The girl grew white and trembled. "You are not serious, Dorian?" she murmured. "You are acting." "Acting! I leave that to you. You do it so well," he answered bitterly. [...] "I am going," he said at last in his calm clear voice. "I don't wish to be unkind, but I can't see you again." He turned and left the room. In a few moments he was out of the theatre.

By Oscar Wilde

Билет №19

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