Портрет Доріана Грея

Chapter 8

           "Well,Iampunishedforthat,Dorianorshallbesomeday." 

           "Idon’tknowwhatyoumean,Basil,"heexclaimed,turninground. "Idon’tknowwhatyouwant. Whatdoyouwant?" 

           "IwanttheDorianGrayIusedtopaint,"saidtheartist,sadly. 

           "Basil,"saidthelad,goingovertohim,andputtinghishandonhisshoulder,"youhavecometoolate. YesterdaywhenIheardthatSibylVanehadkilledherself" 

           "Killedherself! Goodheavens! istherenodoubtaboutthat? "criedHallward,lookingupathimwithanexpressionofhorror. 

           "MydearBasil! Surelyyoudon’tthinkitwasavulgaraccident? Ofcourseshekilledherself." 

           Theeldermanburiedhisfaceinhishands. "Howfearful,"hemuttered,andashudderranthroughhim. 

           "No,"saidDorianGray,"thereisnothingfearfulaboutit. Itisoneofthegreatromantictragediesoftheage. Asarule,peoplewhoactleadthemostcommonplacelives. Theyaregoodhusbands,orfaithfulwives,orsomethingtedious. YouknowwhatImeanmiddle-classvirtue,andallthatkindofthing. HowdifferentSibylwas! Shelivedherfinesttragedy. Shewasalwaysaheroine. Thelastnightsheplayedthenightyousawhersheactedbadlybecauseshehadknowntherealityoflove. Whensheknewitsunreality,shedied,asJulietmighthavedied. Shepassedagainintothesphereofart. 

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