Портрет Доріана Грея

           IwasRosalindonenight,andPortiatheother. ThejoyofBeatricewasmyjoy,andthesorrowsofCordeliawereminealso. Ibelievedineverything.Thecommonpeoplewhoactedwithmeseemedtometobegodlike. Thepaintedscenesweremyworld.Iknewnothingbutshadows,andIthoughtthemreal.Youcame—oh,mybeautifullove! —andyoufreedmysoulfromprison.Youtaughtmewhatrealityreallyis. To-night,forthefirsttimeinmylife,Isawthroughthehollowness,thesham,thesillinessoftheemptypageantinwhichIhadalwaysplayed. To-night,forthefirsttime,IbecameconsciousthattheRomeowashideous,andold,andpainted,thatthemoonlightintheorchardwasfalse, thatthescenerywasvulgar,andthatthewordsIhadtospeakwereunreal,werenotmywords,werenotwhatIwantedtosay. Youhadbroughtmesomethinghigher,somethingofwhichallartisbutareflection. Youhadmademeunderstandwhatlovereallyis. Mylove!mylove!PrinceCharming!Princeoflife!Ihavegrownsickofshadows. Youaremoretomethanallartcaneverbe.WhathaveItodowiththepuppetsofaplay? WhenIcameonto-night,Icouldnotunderstandhowitwasthateverythinghadgonefromme. IthoughtthatIwasgoingtobewonderful.IfoundthatIcoulddonothing. Suddenlyitdawnedonmysoulwhatitallmeant.Theknowledgewasexquisitetome. Iheardthemhissing,andIsmiled.Whatcouldtheyknowoflovesuchasours? Takemeaway,Dorian—takemeawaywithyou,wherewecanbequitealone.Ihatethestage. ImightmimicapassionthatIdonotfeel,butIcannotmimiconethatburnsmelikefire. Oh,Dorian,Dorian,youunderstandnowwhatitsignifies? EvenifIcoulddoit,itwouldbeprofanationformetoplayatbeinginlove.Youhavemademeseethat."