Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers

Help / FAQ



<- Previous | Table of Contents | Next ->
PinkMonkey.com Digital Library-The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde


71

She had marred him for a moment, if he had wounded her for an
age. Besides, women were better suited to bear sorrow than men.
They lived on their emotions.

They only thought of their emotions. When they took lovers, it was
merely to have some one with whom they could have scenes. Lord
Henry had told him that, and Lord Henry knew what women
were. Why should he trouble about Sibyl Vane? She was nothing to
him now.

But the picture? What was he to say of that? It held the secret of his
life, and told his story. It had taught him to love his own beauty.
Would it teach him to loathe his own soul? Would he ever look at it
again? No; it was merely an illusion wrought on the troubled
senses. The horrible night that he had passed had left phantoms
behind it. Suddenly there had fallen upon his brain that tiny scarlet
speck that makes men mad. The picture had not changed. It was
folly to think so.

Yet it was watching him, with its beautiful marred face and its
cruel smile. Its bright hair gleamed in the early sunlight. Its blue
eyes met his own. A sense of infinite pity, not for himself, but for
the painted image of himself, came over him. It had altered
already, and would alter more. Its gold would wither into grey. Its
red and white roses would die. For every sin that he committed, a
stain would fleck and wreck its fairness. But he would not sin. The
picture, changed or unchanged, would be to him the visible
emblem of conscience. He would resist temptation.

He would not see Lord Henry any more-would not, at any rate,
listen to those subtle poisonous theories that in Basil Hallward’s
garden had first stirred within him the passion for impossible
things. He would go back to Sibyl Vane, make her amends, marry
her, try to love her again. Yes, it was his duty to do so. She must
have suffered more than he had. Poor child! He had been selfish
and cruel to her.

The fascination that she had exercised over him would return.
They would be happy together. His life with her would be
beautiful and pure.

He got up from his chair, and drew a large screen right in front of
the portrait, shuddering as he glanced at it. “How horrible!” he
murmured to himself, and he walked across to the window and
opened it. When he stepped out on to the grass, he drew a deep
breath. The fresh morning air seemed to drive away all his sombre
passions. He thought only of Sibyl. A faint echo of his love came
back to him. He repeated her name over and over again. The birds
that were singing in the dewdrenched garden seemed to be telling
the flowers about her.
<- Previous | Table of Contents | Next ->
PinkMonkey.com Digital Library-The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde



All Contents Copyright © All rights reserved.
Further Distribution Is Strictly Prohibited.

About Us | Advertising | Contact Us | Privacy Policy | Home Page


Search:
Keywords:
In Association with Amazon.com