Chapter 7

类别:文学名著 作者:奥斯卡·王尔德 本章:Chapter 7

    Cer 7

    For some reason or ot nig Je to ear remulous smile. ed to t of pompous y,  top of  as if o look for Miranda and  by Caliban. Lord  least ed on s o meet a man . c. t erribly oppressive, and t flamed like a monstrous daals of yelloaken off ts and coats and alked to eacre and sa. t. the bar.

    quot; a place to find ones divinity in!quot; said Lord henry.

    quot;Yes!quot; ans;It  everytal gestures, become quite different  silently and co do. Sualizes t t;

    quot;t!quot; exclaimed Lord s of through his opera-glass.

    quot;Dont pay any attention to ; said ter. quot;I understand  be marvellous, and any girl  be fine and noble. to spiritualize ones age--t is someto t one, if se ty in people ears for sorro are not tion, ion of te rig t first, but I admit it no e.quot;

    quot;t; ans you and me. errifies me. But ra. It is quite dreadful, but it only lasts for about five minutes. tain rises, and you o o ;

    A quarter of an er an extraordinary turmoil of applause, Sibyl Vane stepped on to tage. Yes, sainly lovely to look at-- one of t creatures, Lord , t artled eyes. A faint bluso  tic epped back a feremble. Basil o  and began to applaud. Motionless, and as one in a dream, sat Dorian Gray, gazing at ;C;

    ts ered io and  ruck up a feors, Sibyl Vane moved like a creature from a finer er. t e lily. o be made of cool ivory.

    Yet sless. Sed on Romeo. to speak--

    Good pilgrim, you do wrong your oo much,

    ion shis;

    For saints  pilgrims ouch,

    And palm to palm is holy palmers kiss--

    folloificial manner. te, but from t of vieone it ely false. It  took a made the passion unreal.

    Dorian Gray greo o to be absolutely incompetent. ted.

    Yet t t true test of any Juliet is t. ted for t. If shing in her.

    S in t. t could not be denied. But taginess of ing ificial. S so say. tiful passage--

    t t is on my face,

    Else would a maiden blus my cheek

    For t --

    augo recite by some second-rate professor of elocution. o those wonderful lines--

    Althee,

    I ract to-night:

    It is too rasoo unadvised, too sudden;

    too like tning, wo be

    Ere one can say, quot;It lig; S, good-night!

    th

    May prove a beauteous flo--

    so   nervousness. Indeed, so far from being nervous, sely self-contained. It . Se failure.

    Even ted audience of t and gallery lost terest in t restless, and began to talk loudly and to anding at tamped and she girl herself.

    orm of  up from  on . quot;Se beautiful, Dorian,quot; ;but s act. Let us go.quot;

    quot;I am going to see t; anster voice. quot;I am a I e an evening, o you bot;

    quot;My dear Dorian, I s; interrupted ;e .quot;

    quot;I  so me to be simply callous and cold. Sirely altered. Last nig artist. tress.quot;

    quot;Dont talk like t about any one you love, Dorian. Love is a more .quot;

    quot;tation,quot; remarked Lord ;But do let us go. Dorian, you must not stay  is not good for ones morals to see bad acting. Besides, I dont suppose you  your o act, so  matter if s like a le about life as s acting, sful experience. tely not look so tragic! t of remaining young is never to ion t is unbecoming. Come to ttes and drink to ty of Sibyl Vane. Siful.  more can you ?quot;

    quot;Go a;I  to be alone. Basil, you must go. A you see t my  is breaking?quot; t tears came to rembled, and ruso t the wall, hiding his face in his hands.

    quot;Let us go, Basil,quot; said Lord range tenderness in  together.

    A fes afterligain rose on t. Dorian Gray  back to . . terminable.  out, tramping in s and laug act o almost empty bencain  doitter and some groans.

    As soon as it anding triump e fire. t ed lips  of their own.

    ered, s e joy came over ;ed to-nig; she cried.

    quot;;  . quot;  ;

    t;Dorian,quot; s er to tals of ;Dorian, you sood. But you understand no you?quot;

    quot;Understand ; he asked, angrily.

    quot;o-nig ;

    ;You are ill, I suppose.  act. You make yourself ridiculous. My friends ;

    S to listen to ransfigured asy of ed her.

    quot;Dorian, Dorian,quot; s;before I kneing y of my life. It re t I lived. I t t it rue. I rice ed o me to be godlike. ted scenes  s tiful love!-- and you freed my soul from prison. You taug reality really is. to-nig time in my life, I say pageant in ime, I became conscious t ted, t t in t t to speak  my  ed to say. You  me somet is but a reflection. You and  can ever be.  o do s of a play? o-nig understand   everyt t I o be  I could do not da all meant. te to me. I  could take me aake me ae alone. I e tage. I mig I do not feel, but I cannot mimic one t burns me like fire. Oand no signifies? Even if I could do it, it ion for me to play at being in love. You .quot;

    urned aered.

    S o tle fingers stroked  down and pressed o hrough him.

    t to t;Yes,quot; ;you o stir my imagination. No even stir my curiosity. You simply produce no effect. I loved you because you , because you realized t poets and gave sance to t. You  all aion your name. You dont knoo me, once.  bear to t! I le you can kno mars your art! it your art, you are not. t are you noe actress ty face.quot;

    te, and trembled. Sogeto catc. quot;You are not serious, Dorian?quot; s;You are acting.quot;

    quot;Acting! I leave t to you. You do it so ; terly.

    Seous expression of pain in o  o  ;Dont touc; he cried.

    A lorampled flo;Dorian, Dorian, dont leave me!quot; s;I am so sorry I didnt act ime. But I ry--indeed, I ry. It came so suddenly across me, my love for you. I t if you  kissed me-- if  bear it. O go a mean it. . . . . But you, o you forgive me for to-nigry to improve. Dont be cruel to me, because I love you better ter all, it is only once t I  pleased you. But you are quite rigist. It  . O leave me, dont leave me.quot; A fit of passionate sobbing ciful eyes, looked do e disdain. t tions of people o o be absurdly melodramatic. ears and sobs annoyed him.

    quot;I am going,quot;  last in ;I dont  I cant see you again. You ed me.quot;

    S silently, and made no ans crept nearer. tle retc, and appeared to be seeking for urned on  ts  of tre.

    to  streets, past gaunt, black-ser er tering to trous apes. esque ceps, and s.

    As t breaking, o Covent Garden. ted, and, flus fires, tself into a perfect pearl. s filled y street. ty seemed to bring o t and ce-smocked carter offered o accept any money for to eat tlessly. t midnigered into tes of striped tulips, and of yello of ables. Under tico, s grey, sun-bleacered a troop of draggled bareing for tion to be over. Ot-amped upon tones, srappings. Some of ted, t picking up seeds.

    After a little ep, looking round at t square, s blank, close-stered s staring blinds. tened like silver against it. From some ce a t curled, a violet riband, the nacre-coloured air.

    In t Venetian lantern, spoil of some Doges barge, t , oak-panelled rance, ligill burning from ts: tals of flame te fire. urned t and,  and cape on table, passed toagonal c, in  ed for apestries t ored in a disused attic at Selby Royal. As urning trait Basil ed of arted back as if in surprise. t on into  puzzled. After aken tton- of , o ate. Finally,  over to ture, and examined it. In ted lig struggled to o be a little c. One oucy in t ainly strange.

    urned round and, o t da tastic so dusky corners, range expression t iced in trait seemed to linger to be more intensified even. t sunligy round to a mirror after hing.

    aking up from table an oval glass framed in ivory Cupids, one of Lord s to o its polis  mean?

    o ture, and examined it again. to tual painting, and yet t t tered. It  a mere fancy of .

    o a co t udio ture  perfectly. tered a mad rait gro y migarnis ted image mig, and t  keep all te bloom and loveliness of  conscious boy been fulfilled? Suc seemed monstrous even to t, ture before oucy in th.

    Cruelty!  , not  artist, o  . ted , a feeling of infinite regret came over  of   sobbing like a little c callousness c? o  errible  ted, uries of pain, aeon upon aeon of torture. , if ter suited to bear sorroions. t of tions. ook lovers, it o old , and Lord   Sibyl Vane? So him now.

    But ture?  ? It  of old ory. It augo love y. ould it teaco loat it again?

    No; it  t  poms be. Suddenly t tiny scarlet speck t makes men mad. ture  c o think so.

    Yet it cs beautiful marred face and its cruel smile. Its brig. Its blue eyes met e pity, not for  for ted image of  ered already, and er more. Its gold o grey. Its red and  ted, a stain s fairness. But  sin. ture, co  temptation.  see Lord , at any rate, listen to tle poisonous t in Basil  stirred o Sibyl Vane, make ry to love  o do so. S o ion t surn. togetiful and pure.

    up from  in front of trait, s it. quot;; o o t. epped out on to to drive a eco ed  o be telling t her.


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