of you!”
“I am not laughing, Dorian. Go on with your story.[36]”
“The play was Romeo and Juliet[37]. Romeo was a fat, ugly old actor. But Juliet was a beautiful young actress. She was about seventeen years old. Her hair was dark brown. Her face was small and pale – like a little flower. Her eyes were large and dark blue. I fell in love with her immediately, Harry; she was the loveliest thing I had ever seen in my life. Why didn’t you tell me about actresses?”
“Because everybody falls in love with actresses, Dorian,” said Lord Henry. “When did you meet her?”
“I went back the next night and the night after that. On the third evening I waited for her outside the theatre.”
“What was she like?”
“Sibyl? Oh, she was shy and gentle. There is something of a child about her. She said quite simply to me, ‘You look more like a prince. I must call you Prince Charming[38].’”
“Miss Sibyl knows how to flatter you.”
“You don’t understand her, Harry. She regarded me merely as a person in a play[39]. She knows nothing of life. She lives with her mother. Sibyl is the only thing I care about.”
“That is the reason, I suppose, that you never have dinner with me now. I thought it might be something romantic.”
“My dear Harry, we eat together every day,” said Dorian.
“You always come very late.”
“Well, I have to see Sibyl play,” he cried.
“Can you have dinner with me tonight, Dorian?”
He shook his head. “Tonight she is Imogen[40],” he answered, and tomorrow night she will be Juliet.”
“When is she Sibyl Vane?”
“Never.”
“I congratulate you.”
“How horrible you are! She is all the great heroines of the world in one[41]. I love her, and I must make her love me. You, who know all the secrets of life, tell me how to charm Sibyl Vane to love me! I want to make Romeo jealous. I want you and Basil to come and watch her tomorrow night. You are certain to recognize that she is wonderful[42].”
“All right. Tomorrow evening. Will you see Basil before then? Or shall I write to him?”
“Dear Basil! I haven’t seen him for a week. It is rather horrible of me as he sent me my portrait a few days ago. I love looking at it. Perhaps you should write to him. I don’t want to see him alone. He says things that annoy me. He gives me good advice.”
Lord Henry smiled. “People are very fond of giving away advice they need themselves.”
“Oh, Basil is a good man, but I don’t think he really understands about art and beauty. Since I have known you, Harry, I have discovered that.”
“Basil, my dear boy, puts everything that is charming in him into his work.”
“I must go now, Harry. My Juliet is waiting for me. Don’t forget about tomorrow. Goodbye.”
As Dorian left the room, Lord Henry began to think about what he had just learned. Certainly few people had ever interested him so much as Dorian Gray. Yet the mad worship of this actress did not make him annoyed or jealous. He was pleased by it. It made the boy more interesting to study. Soul and body, body and soul – how mysterious they were! There was animalism in the soul, and the body had its moments of spirituality.
When he arrived home, about half past twelve o’clock, he saw a telegram lying on the hall table. He opened it and found it was from Dorian Gray. Dorian Gray was going to marry Sibyl Vane.
Chapter 5
“Mother, Mother, I am so happy,” whispered Sibyl Vane. “I am so happy, and you must be happy, too!”
Mrs. Vane did not look very happy. She was a small, thin woman who always looked tired. There was a lot of make up on her face and on her dry, thin mouth.
“I am only happy, Sibyl, when I see you act. You must not think of anything but your acting. Mr. Isaacs has been very good to us, and we owe him money.”
“Money, Mother?” she cried, “what does money matter? Love is more than money.”
“Oh, Sibyl,” said Mrs. Vane, “you mustn’t think about the young man who comes to the theatre. You must think about your acting. Mr. Isaacs will be angry if you don’t act well. He has given us a lot of money and you mustn’t make a theatre manager angry. You must not forget that, Sibyl. Fifty pounds is a very large sum. Mr. Isaacs has been most considerate.”
“I don’t like Mr. Isaacs, Mother, and I don’t care about money,” replied Sibyl, “I’m in love with Prince Charming.”
“Sibyl, Mr. Isaacs gave us fifty pounds to pay our bills and buy clothes for James. You love James – you love your brother – don’t you?” said Mrs. Vane.
“Yes, of course I do,” replied Sibyl. “But we have Prince Charming now. He will help us. We don’t need Mr. Isaacs.”
Sibyl Vane lived with her mother, and brother, James. They lived in London. But they lived in a small house in the north of London, a long way from Lord Henry’s large, expensive house.
It was the day after Sibyl had become engaged to Dorian. Sibyl and her mother were talking in their small living room.
“My child,” said her mother, “you are too young to think of falling in love. Besides, what do you know of this young man? You don’t even know his name. I’m very worried about you. And you know James is going away tomorrow. I’m worried about James too, James is going away to Australia and you have fallen in love. But if he is rich…”
“Ah! Mother, Mother, let me be happy!”
At that moment the door opened and James Vane came into the room. He was sixteen years old and he did not look like his sister. Sibyl was small and beautiful, with shining brown hair. James was large, with big hands and feet. His hair was dull and dark and not well combed, and there was something rough and angry in his expression.
James Vane looked into his sister’s face with tenderness. “I want you to come out with me for a walk, Sibyl. I don’t suppose I shall ever see this horrid London again. I am sure I don’t want to.”
“My son, don’t say such dreadful things,” murmured Mrs. Vane.
Sibyl went to get her coat and James spoke to his mother. “I’m worried about Sibyl,” he said. “I hear a gentleman comes every night to the theatre and goes behind to talk to her. Is that right? What about that?”
“Don’t worry, James,” Mrs. Vane replied. “Young men often fall in love with actresses.”
“But you don’t know his name,” said James, angrily, “Mother, you must take care of Sibyl.”
Sibyl and James went for a walk in Hyde Park. The park was busy. There were lots of people. There were people walking and people sitting in carriages pulled by horses.
Sibyl was happy. “I think you will have a wonderful life in Australia, James. I think you will become rich…”
She stopped speaking because James was not listening to her.
“You are not listening to a word I am saying, Jim,” cried Sibyl, “and I am making the most delightful plans for your future. Do say something. What’s bothering you?”
“I heard that there is a man who comes to see you every night at the theatre. Why haven’t you told me about him? He can’t be any good for you