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Night
after
night
I
go
to
see
her
play
.
One
evening
she
is
Rosalind
,
and
the
next
evening
she
is
Imogen
.
I
have
seen
her
die
in
the
gloom
of
an
Italian
tomb
,
sucking
the
poison
from
her
lover
's
lips
.
I
have
watched
her
wandering
through
the
forest
of
Arden
,
disguised
as
a
pretty
boy
in
hose
and
doublet
and
dainty
cap
.
She
has
been
mad
,
and
has
come
into
the
presence
of
a
guilty
king
,
and
given
him
rue
to
wear
,
and
bitter
herbs
to
taste
of
.
She
has
been
innocent
,
and
the
black
hands
of
jealousy
have
crushed
her
reed-like
throat
.
I
have
seen
her
in
every
age
and
in
every
costume
.
Ordinary
women
never
appeal
to
one
's
imagination
.
They
are
limited
to
their
century
.
No
glamour
ever
transfigures
them
.
One
knows
their
minds
as
easily
as
one
knows
their
bonnets
.
One
can
always
find
them
.
There
is
no
mystery
in
any
of
them
.
They
ride
in
the
Park
in
the
morning
,
and
chatter
at
tea-parties
in
the
afternoon
.
They
have
their
stereotyped
smile
,
and
their
fashionable
manner
.
They
are
quite
obvious
.
But
an
actress
!
How
different
an
actress
is
!
Harry
!
why
did
n't
you
tell
me
that
the
only
thing
worth
loving
is
an
actress
?
"
"
Because
I
have
loved
so
many
of
them
,
Dorian
.
"
"
Oh
,
yes
,
horrid
people
with
dyed
hair
and
painted
faces
.
"
"
Do
n't
run
down
dyed
hair
and
painted
faces
.
There
is
an
extraordinary
charm
in
them
,
sometimes
,
"
said
Lord
Henry
.
"
I
wish
now
I
had
not
told
you
about
Sibyl
Vane
.
"
"
You
could
not
have
helped
telling
me
,
Dorian
.
All
through
your
life
you
will
tell
me
everything
you
do
.
"
"
Yes
,
Harry
,
I
believe
that
is
true
.
I
can
not
help
telling
you
things
.
You
have
a
curious
influence
over
me
.
If
I
ever
did
a
crime
,
I
would
come
and
confess
it
to
you
.
You
would
understand
me
.
"
"
People
like
you
--
the
wilful
sunbeams
of
life
--
do
n't
commit
crimes
,
Dorian
.
But
I
am
much
obliged
for
the
compliment
,
all
the
same
.
And
now
tell
me
--
reach
me
the
matches
,
like
a
good
boy
:
thanks
:
--
what
are
your
actual
relations
with
Sibyl
Vane
?
"
Dorian
Gray
leaped
to
his
feet
,
with
flushed
cheeks
and
burning
eyes
.
"
Harry
!
Sibyl
Vane
is
sacred
!
"
"
It
is
only
the
sacred
things
that
are
worth
touching
,
Dorian
,
"
said
Lord
Henry
,
with
a
strange
touch
of
pathos
in
his
voice
.
"
But
why
should
you
be
annoyed
?
I
suppose
she
will
belong
to
you
some
day
.
When
one
is
in
love
,
one
always
begins
by
deceiving
one
's
self
,
and
one
always
ends
by
deceiving
others
.
That
is
what
the
world
calls
a
romance
.
You
know
her
,
at
any
rate
,
I
suppose
?
"
