Alasdair Middletons libretto til operaen The Picture of Dorian Gray

Transcription

1 Alasdair Middletons libretto til operaen The Picture of Dorian Gray Opera med musik af Thomas Agerfeldt Olesen. Opføres som opera august 2013 på Den Jyske Opera Copyright Den Jyske Opera

2 1 THE PICTURE OF GRAY CAST LORD HENRY WOTTON HALLWARD GRAY A BUTLER MRS VANE VANE VANE AN OLD WOMAN WHO SELLS OPIUM A PROSTITUTE THE DUCHESS OF MONMOUTH TWO SERVANTS

3 2 ACT ONE SCENE ONE; IN HALLWARD S STUDIO. LORD HENRY WOTTON AND HALLWARD STANDING IN FRONT OF AN UNFINISHED PORTRAIT. What s his name? Dorian Gray, His name is Dorian Gray. Dorian Gray. I had told myself I would keep his name a secret. A secret, why? I have grown to love secrecy. I want him wholly to belong to me. I say his name and give away a part Of him which I would lock inside my heart. To say his name is to let something I love die. You must think I have gone mad. No, not at all. I am a married man. Secrecy is the foundation stone of a happy marriage. But I can see the effect he has had upon your work and you. This is your masterpiece. When will you exhibit it? I will never exhibit it. There is too much of myself in it. Too much of yourself? This beautiful young man? I had not thought you so vain.

4 3 I am not being vain but I say again; I will never exhibit it.. There is too much of myself in this picture. In every portrait, It is the artist not the sitter that is painted, And in this picture I ve revealed my soul. I would not have it tainted, Have my soul displayed Before the public. I suppose I m too afraid Of all the things that they might think or say. I don t want to give my soul away. This picture is my soul! And they must never know it. It is my soul. So - I must never show it. Those who look beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without charm. Where did you meet this charming, beautiful thing? At Lady Brandon s. Our eyes met - And it was as though I already I knew All the exquisite sorrow or exquisite joy I would find in the face of that beautiful boy. I turned to go But his eyes held my heart, My soul, my Art, And there was nothing I could do. I was afraid, I tried to leave, I looked at him again And stayed. It is quite a romance. A romance of Art, one might say. And Dorian Gray? Does he care for you too?

5 4 I dare say he likes me. But now and again He seems to delight in giving me pain. Then I feel I have given my soul away, Like a flower he will wear in his coat, as an ornament for a Summer s day. Summer days are apt to linger. And you will tire of him long before he tires of you. It is true. Art lasts longer than Beauty And has, by far, the harder heart. One day, His colouring will seem wrong; His eyes a touch too small; His nose a shade too long; One day you ll look into his face And see the merely commonplace. He ll be no longer your ideal - He will be the merely real. You will wonder what it was you saw; Then more and more You ll find him not a Beauty but a Bore. Harry! As long as I live the personality Of Dorian Gray will dominate me. You cannot feel what I feel. You change too often. SIR HARRY My dear Basil - that is exactly why I can feel it. Those who are faithful know only love s triviality: It is the faithless who know love s tragedy. That s as maybe, But I must get on with my work. I must finish the painting.

6 5 SIR HARRY Yes, you must finish your painting. You must finish your picture of Dorian Gray. When, by the way, shall I meet him? Never. SIR HARRY Never? I have grown to love secrecy And you are a bad influence. SIR HARRY A bad influence? Me? (ENTER A BUTLER) BUTLER Mr Dorian Gray is here, sir. SIR HARRY Now I must meet him. It can t be helped. It can t be helped. (ENTER GRAY) This is Dorian Gray. Dorian Gray Lord Henry Wotton. Lord Henry. Call me Harry, Mr Gray. Basil does. Call me Dorian, Harry. Basil does.

7 6 Dorian Harry. Now we are all good friends But Harry, I want to finish this picture today Would you think it awfully rude if I asked you to leave. Must I go, Dorian? No. Please stay. You don t really mind, Basil, do you? You like your sitters to have someone to chat to. If Dorian wishes it, it must be so. Dorian s whims are laws, you know. So that s settled. Harry stays But pay no attention to a word he says. He s a bad influence. A terrible influence. A terrible influence is that true? There is no such thing as a good influence. All influence is immoral from a scientific point of view. How so?

8 7 If we yield to a bad influence, If we follow good advice, Then we glow with another man s virtue, We burn with a borrowed vice. But if one realised one s nature perfectly And became one s self alone- Then our virtues would become us And our vices would be, at least, our own. Lift your head a little higher, Dorian. To live life fully and completely, To give form to what we feel, To act upon each slight desire, To make each day dream real, Is what we were put on Earth for - But man smothers his own flame, And shudders at his own desire And shrinks in guilt and shame. Don t bite your lip, Dorian. Each impulse we strive to strangle Rots and poisons the mind. But action is purification- Having sinned, we can leave sin behind. Then nothing is left but remembrance Or the luxury of regret The only way out of temptation Is to yield to it. Words. Mere words. Don t frown, Dorian. No, Dorian, don t frown. It quite spoils your beauty.

9 8 What can that possibly matter? Beauty is a sort of Genius. Indeed, the highest sort. For Beauty requires no explanation. Beauty requires no thought. Beauty cannot be questioned. Who would question the moon on the sea? Beauty confers on those that possess it The divine right of sovereignty. I cannot tell whether you are serious or not. Should I take your words to heart? Or should I merely smile? Smile, smile While you may. Too soon you will wither, Your beauty decay, Will you smile then? When the flower s freshness withers - Next Spring it returns But Youth returns never Human Beauty lost is Beauty lost forever. The sullen sun of Time Scorches and burns Your looks away. Scarred by Time s hate You will realise, too late, That you forgot to live, You did not pluck the fruit that Life could give. We forget - but Time does not Our limbs fail, our senses rot Mocked by the power we had but were afraid to wield. Tormented by temptations to which we would not yield, We stumble nothing worth saving, nothing left to save- To a bleak and ugly grave. Time does not forgive. So live! What will you snatch from Time? What Joy, what Rapture, what Sin, what Crime? Snatch something from Time, somehow

10 9 (cont) Live! Live Now! A country of wonders lies before you, Your Beauty makes you King! Youth and Beauty! They are everything! To snatch something from Time somehow. It s like I haven t lived till now. There! It is quite finished. Basil, it is your masterpiece. Dorian, come and look at yourself. Is it really finished? Quite finished.. One afternoon in June You looked like this. The sunlight fell on the carpet so. The flower trembled at the bee s kiss. In years to come, when we are bone And time has forgotten your name They will know This same afternoon in June, When the sunlight fell on the carpet. The flower trembled at the bee s kiss And you looked like this. Oh Basil, what have you done? Don t you like it? How can he not like it?

11 10 Like it? Do I really look like this? I wish.. No, I pray That I could remain forever As that painting looks to day; That age would wither it, not me; That it would feel Time s blight But I would stay forever so beautiful and bright. The seconds slide to minutes and soon the hour will chime, And the beauty you call potent is the abject slave of Time. If Time would only let me Keep such perfect beauty whole; If Time would just forget me- I would give my very soul. When the Gods wish to punish us, Dorian, they answer our prayers. SIR HARRY There is no such thing as an answered prayer. And were the wish to come true, It would be rather hard lines on your work and you. I should object very strongly. I believe you would. You care less for your friends than you do for Art I know I mean no more to you Than your marble faun or your miniatures do. How long will I keep my place in your heart? Till my first wrinkle? Will you be so ardent then? When I grow older You ll grow indifferent - you know you will, But you will love this picture still. Lord Harry spoke the truth; Nothing is worth more than Youth. When I lose that then let me die. Dorian, you surely can not be jealous of material things.

12 11 I am jealous of everything Time does not touch! The minutes fly by And already I am older than the figure in this painting is. Much consolation will it ever bring me! I can t see its beauty just its mockery I will never age it jeers- so why must I? Why can t it wither, wrinkle and die Instead of me? This is your doing, Harry. No- This is the real Dorian Gray. (lifting a palette knife) I won t let a thing of mere canvas and colour Break my best friend s heart. You are dearer to me than this painting is. Together, let s rip it apart. Basil! No! No, Basil! It would be murder! I am glad you appreciate my work at last. Appreciate it? I am in love with it. It is my Self. I am in love with it too. I will give anything you like for it. I must have it. It is not mine. It belongs to Dorian. It is himself. Dorian is fortunate.

13 12 (to ) As soon as you are dry, you shall be varnished and sent home. Then you can do what you like with yourself. What an interesting afternoon! My hansom is outside. Shall we take a turn in the park? I should like that. Basil? I shall stay here with real Dorian. Is it the real Dorian? Am I really like that? Yes, you are just like that. Come along, Dorian. Goodbye, Basil, I will see you soon. What an interesting afternoon! (EXIT and ) One afternoon in June, You looked like this. In years to come and we are bone, They will see and say This is what it was that Summer s day. This is who he was- Dorian Gray.

14 13 SCENE 2. S DRESSING ROOM. and. MRS VANE What s his name? I don t know. Romeo. MRS VANE You don t know his name? That s alarming! Prince Charming. I call him Prince Charming. MRS VANE Prince? Is he rich? So he buys you some flowers. If he is rich, don t sell yourself cheap. Flowers live a few hours. Flowers rot. Money does not. Flowers! I ve had plenty of flowers and they don t mean a thing! Jewels! Let him buy you a necklace, a bracelet hold out for a ring! Flowers and Promises, Love and Fine words in a moment are gone. Money lives on! When all of his Flowers and Promises, Love and Fine words are a thing of the past Jewels last. I don t want jewels or flowers. I don t want what money can buy. Rich? Why I think myself rich with all he has given me. MRS VANE Why? What has he given you. Happiness, mother, and love. MRS VANE Love! Now Mr Isaacs all that Mr Isaacs has given us..

15 14 Mr Isaac s is hateful. MRS VANE Hateful? Isn t he paying for your brother James to go to Australia and start a new life? Mr Isaacs want James out of the way. MRS VANE At least Mr Isaacs is willing to pay. But if, as you say, your Prince Charming is rich.. Prince charming loves me. I am content. MRS VANE Love, Sybil, won t pay the rent. (ENTER ) MRS VANE. Here is James. James talk some sense into your sister. She fancies herself in love. In love? In love. MRS VANE With a gentleman. (EXIT MRS VANE) A gentleman? What s his name? I don t know. Romeo.

16 15 You don t know? I call him Prince Charming. There is no harm in that. Let s not talk of him, Jim, We ll only argue And I don t want to argue with you, Least of all today, When you re going away. I know what gentlemen are like, Sybil, You don t. You think he ll treat you like a princess, Sybil, Well, Sybil, he won t. Anyone would think you were my mother, not my little brother Jim. You wouldn t say these things about him if you knew him. If you could see the way he is; So beautiful, so kind; If you could hear the things he says You d soon change your mind. If he ever hurts a hair on your head He ll answer to me. He d never hurt me You don t know that Well Let s agree To disagree. I ve packed your trunk. How small it seems To hold so many hopes and dreams.

17 16 It doesn t hold hope Just my clothes and stuff And it s more than big enough To hold my dreams. You are going to Australia. A Land where dreams come true. Gold and riches, Fame and Fortune Waiting there for you. I am going to Australia. A land where life is rough. Bleak and broken, cursed and cursing, Mean and cruel and tough. James. No, Sybil, you are right. I am going to Australia. A land where dreams come true. I am going to Australia. Why don t you come too? Come with you? Why not? Now. Today. I want to get you away From the stage, This life, That man, The lot. James, I can t come with you. You are going on a voyage, I am too. Soon you will sail to Australia. Soon we will say goodbye.

18 17 (cont) You re off to Adventure. Well, James, so am I. The winds of Change are blowing. Our guides are the stars above. You are sailing to the Realms of Gold. I sail to the Isle of Love. Your ship is called Opportunity. Mine is called Heart of Fire. You are sailing to a World of Wealth. I sail to the Land of Desire. He has driven you mad. Who wants to be sane? He has enslaved you. I kiss my chain. Break it off. Don t see him again. For your own good. If you understood..if you only knew. I understand. Do you? You think gentlemen are charming. You think love is good. You think there s no harm in giving your heart away But it s time you understood Gentlemen charming? That s not true. Love is good? Not always so. I m not charming. I m not good. That s how I know.

19 18 (cont) You think people always mean well. You think hearts are true. You think that everyone is wonderful like you. But it s time you knew People mean well? That s not so. Hearts are true. That s a lie. Hearts are false And people are bastards I know So am I. If he thinks that he can hurt you, Treat you like some toy, Thinks of having some fun then skipping away Then it s time you understood, my boy- Hurt my sister? I ll kick your head in. Leave her crying? I ll hunt you down. Break her heart and you re a dead man. I will kill you. I will And I can. James, I know you wouldn t hurt anything that I loved. Isn t that so? Isn t that so. Yes. So you wouldn t hurt him. Would you? I suppose not. No. Not if you loved him.

20 19 And I will always love him. Poor James. You think life treats people harshly You think life is bad. I don t blame you for thinking that, When I think about the life you ve had. One day you will love somebody And then you will have understood, Love and life are not the things you call them. Love makes people good. It is time I was going. Kiss me, James. Give your Prince Charming a message from me. Yes, James. Tell him.. Yes, James? Tell him, If he ever hurts a hair on your head I will hunt him down like a dog And shoot him dead. (ENTER MRS VANE) MRS VANE James, cab is here. Goodbye, Sybil. Remember what I said.

21 20 SCENE 3;... What s her name? Sybil Vane. She is an actress. An actress? A genius. I love her. I have seen her stand on a balcony and whisper her love to the moon. I have watched her give herbs to a guilty king whilst singing an antique tune. I have witnessed her in a Courtroom in Venice saving her love from the knife. I have seen her white throat in the Moor s dark hands, heard her sigh away her life. Desdemona! Ophelia! Juliet! Portia! She is all of these. And when is she Sybil Vane? Never. You are a fortunate man. But an actress is a rather commonplace debut. You will not say so when you see her. It is the greatest romance of my life. It is the first romance of your life. Where did you find her?

22 21 There are nights when I love to linger in the labyrinth of lanes That flow like veins from this city s dark heart. I follow my feet till I come to a part Where I may walk where Crime has walked and can stare at her scarlet stains. There was one night as I wandered that I found myself at the doors Of a gaudy Theatre, glittering like Sin, And some strange perverse instinct made me go in And take a seat there, where sailors curses clashed with the shrieks of whores. She stepped on the stage like a pure white swan upon on a noisome lake. She seemed to be living not acting her part And her Beauty touched even that mob s foul heart, And her voice was the music that the swan with its dying breath might make. (off) Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight. Dost thou love me? I love to think that dead lovers can feel our love and grow sad; Love that age won t wither nor custom rust; That they feel our Passion, and it stirs their dust, Wakes their ashes into pain, makes them ache to feel again the love that they once had. And may we meet this miracle? Come to the theatre tonight. Tonight she is Juliet. Tonight then. Tonight.

23 22 SCENE 4; S DRESSING ROOM. LORD HENRY... (offstage to a chorus of boo s and catcalls) Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight. She is quite beautiful but she can t act at all. Let us go. I am sure she must be ill. I wish she were ill. Last night she was a great artist. Tonight she is commonplace and mediocre. Don t talk like that about someone you love. Love is more wonderful than Art. They are both simply forms of imitation. We must not stay here any longer. It is not good for one s morals to see bad acting. Go away, Harry, can t you see my heart is breaking? Don t look so tragic- the secret of remaining young is never to have an emotion that is unbecoming. She is beautiful. What more can you want? Come away, Harry. If she knows as little about life as she does about acting, she will be a delightful experience. There are only two sorts of people that are really fascinating those who know everything and those who know nothing. (EXIT AND )

24 23 Has she been commonplace and stupid all along? How could I ever have loved her? How could I have been so wrong? (ENTER ) (joyfully) How badly I acted tonight. Horribly. You have no idea what I suffered. You should have understood. But you understand now, don t you? Understand what? Why I was so bad tonight. Why I shall always be bad. Why I shall never act well again. You made yourself ridiculous. This painted world was once the only world I knew- And I thought it true- I lived among shadows and thought those shadows real Until you. You taught me how to feel. You opened this painted prison of my soul And made me whole. Now I see The Blasphemy of apeing Love upon a stage. Now I feel, Now Love is real, the lines I spoke were dead things on a page. My life till you- has been a silly play. You are more to me Than all Art can ever be. Take me away. Love. Love? You have killed that.

25 24 Love? Once I loved you. Once I thought you fair. Once you led me to a magic world And showed me all the treasures there. Now I look into your face And see the merely commonplace; A painted puppet; a silly doll; That is all. Once you leant me wings, Once you helped me soar To skies of Art above. Not anymore You have murdered Love. Romeo! Love! How can you be so cruel? If I am cruel You are to blame. I will forget your face. I will forget your name. Romeo, please. Stop it. There is always something ridiculous about the emotions of those one has ceased to love. (EXIT ) Romeo! Wilt thou be gone?...don t go! Kiss me again My brother..no, he didn t mean it Come back. I will be better. Romeo! I.. My grave is like to be my marriage bed. Since all else fail, myself have power to die.

26 25 SCENE 5; looking at the picture. That look in the eyes was it always there? Weren t they once more innocent and clear? What can it be? Cruelty? And that sneer? Is that me? Sybil! Cruelty. ( looks in a mirror) And yet no trace upon my face. Can it be? Those sins that scar the picture won t mark me? END OF ACT ONE

27 26 ACT TWO SCENE ONE. AND Dead? Dead. Sybil Vane is dead. Suicide? There can be no doubt? No doubt. The papers are full of it. Sybil Vane killed herself. But don t worry, my dear boy, you are not implicated. Sybil Vane killed herself. Sybil Vane is dead. And the roses are as lovely as they ever were. A breeze blows through the birches and their small leaves stir. And Sybil Vane is dead. The birds are singing and the sun shines still. And the seconds slide to minutes as they always will. And Sybil Vane is dead. How I envy you. Envy me? For what? My cruelty? I murdered Sybil Vane. I took her life As surely as if I had cut her little throat with a knife.

28 27 I envy you. Many women have adored me, Loved me till their passion bored me. Not one of them would ever do What Sybil Vane has done for you. Poor Sybil with her broken heart Changed something sordid to a work of Art She learned her part and played it well. She loved. She died. The curtain fell. That is why I envy you This strange affair that you ve been through. She burned in the flame that she adored. So do not mourn. Admire! Applaud! I did not guess that life could be So like a perfect tragedy. Mourn, if mourn you must, for Juliet in her tomb Not for a dead actress in a tawdry dressing-room. You have explained myself to me. She was not real she was a figure in a tragedy; That is why I do not feel her death as I thought to. You do not think me heartless, Harry, do you? Not heartless, no. Life has everything in store for you. There is nothing that you, with your extraordinary good looks Will not be able to do. But suppose I become wrinkled and haggard and old? What then? Then you must learn to fight. But you must not lose your looks. We cannot spare you. Come along, I will drive you to the Opera. I will meet you there. And thank God, Dorian, that you live in a Century where such wonders happen.

29 28 Such wonders? True love. Passion. Romance. That sort of thing. Death? You are alive, Dorian. Live! (EXIT ) I am alive. And she is dead. I am alive. And still no trace upon my face. Can it be Those sins that scar the picture won t mark me? Has Time forgot me? Let others bleat and mourn then, Not me. I am alive. So live! What shall I snatch from Time What Joy, what Rapture, what Sin, what Crime? A country of wonders lies before me! My Beauty makes me King. Youth and Beauty! They are everything.

30 29 SCENE TWO; S CREDO (while danced orgies happen around him) I believe in Beauty I believe in Youth I believe in the Holy Truth Of Pure Sensation I believe in yielding to temptation I believe that Vice is just a word I believe that Virtue is absurd I believe in Beauty I believe in Youth I believe that Pleasure is the only Truth. Let Time and Conscience, Regret, Remorse ignore me And let me drain the cup Life s prepared for me.

31 30 SCENE THREE. IN BROTHELS AND BALLROOMS. BACCHANAL. There is pleasure in cold diamonds There is pleasure in warm pearls There is pleasure in old women There is pleasure in young girls There is pleasure in an emerald There is pleasure in meat There is pleasure which half-tasted savours twice as sweet. There is pleasure in duchesses There is pleasure in a whore There is pleasure when you open the secret seventh door There is pleasure in the panting flesh by candlelight revealed There is pleasure in the panting flesh being forced to yield There is pleasure in the common There is pleasure in the rare There is pleasure in the drawing room There is pleasure on the stair There is pleasure in the winning There is pleasure when you lose There is pleasure in a kiss There is pleasure in a bruise (ALAN COMES TO THE FOREGROUND WITH A GIRL) There is pleasure in watching Warm blood flow There is pleasure in admiring it Like rubies in the snow There is pleasure in piss There is pleasure in shit There is pleasure lying moaning where you least expected it There is pleasure in violence There is pleasure in death There is pleasure in catching a final dying breath There is pleasure in revulsion And then doing it again There is pleasure Forever And ever Amen. (ALAN UNDER S DIRECTION HAS RAPED AND MURDERED THE GIRL)

32 31 SCENE FOUR; S APARTMENT. AND. My dear fellow, I want to speak to you seriously. I hope it is not about myself. I am tired of myself tonight I should like to be someone else. It is about yourself And I must say it. It will only take me half an hour. Half an hour. Time is so precious. I think it right that you should know the most dreadful things are being said about you. I don t wish to know anything about them. I love scandals about other people but scandals about myself bore me. They have not got the charm of novelty. That s Harry talking. Every man must be interested in his good name. You don t want people to talk of you as a thing of shame. I don t believe these rumours are true. I can t believe them when I look at you Still so youthful still so full of grace. Sin is a thing which writes itself across a face, Men talk of secret vices. Vice cannot hide. The face always betrays the soul inside. Are you so sure?

33 32 Dorian, I believe you pure. But People talk That wretched boy in the guards who committed suicide; Adrian Singleton and his wretched end; Henry Ashton, exiled with a tarnished name; Lord Kent s only son his father grey with shame; All friends of yours- All sense of decency, honour, goodness gone. It is said.. You made them mad for pleasure They went down to the depths of vice And you led them there, Smiling, Smiling as you smile at me now. Basil do not lecture me Did I teach them vices, their debauchery? Then there are other stories.. Stories that see you creeping at dawn out of dreadful houses, Slinking in disguise into the foulest dens in London. Corrupting and corrupt. Are they true? I once knew you. Are they true? Do I know you? I wonder - To answer that I should have to see your soul. To see my soul? Yes, to see your soul. But only God can do that.

34 33 Then tonight you shall be God. I will show you my soul. Why not? It is your own handiwork. You wish me to answer your charges? Come upstairs. I keep a diary of my life from day to day And you shall see it. (THEY APPROACH THE PICTURE) You think that it is only God who sees the soul. Draw that curtain and you shall see mine. (THE PICTURE IS REVEALED) Good God! What does this mean? Years ago, when I was boy You met me, flattered me and taught me to be vain of my good looks. A friend of yours revealed to me the wonder of Youth. Your Picture revealed the wonder of Beauty. In a mad moment, that even now, I don t know if I regret I made a wish, perhaps you would call it a prayer. I remember it, how well I remember it. But the thing is impossible. This room is damp, the canvas has rotted. It is impossible. What does impossible mean? I don t believe it is my picture. Don t you recognise your ideal? Christ! What a thing I have worshipped. If this is true and this is what you have done with your life Then you are even worse than they imagined. Pray, Dorian, pray!

35 34 Lead us not into temptation. Forgive us our sins. Let us say that together. The prayer of your Pride has been answered, The prayer of your repentance will be answered too. I worshipped you and I am punished You worshipped yourself we both are punished. Pray. It is too late. It is never too late. Though you sins be as scarlet, yet I will make then white as snow Pray. It is too late. Too late for me. Too late for you. ( KILLS ) SCENE 5 AN OPIUM DEN.. AN OLD WOMAN OPIUM DEALER. A WHORE. Sybil dead. And I am alive. And he is alive. OLD WOMAN (to James) Another pipe, dearie? Nothing like a little smoke to help you forget. WHORE (to the Old Woman) God, it s dead in here tonight.

36 35 I buried my hopes in a dead country, And so sailed back to this dead dark city Over a dark dead sea, To find my sister murdered, By her dead dark love. The single dark prayer I utter To the dead dark God above, The single thought that flickers In my dark dead head, Is to find the man that killed her- Find him and leave him dead. OLD WOMAN Another pipe, dearie? WHORE Fancy some loving, darling? Loving? She thought love delightful. She thought hearts were true. She never guessed that love was just a filthy whore like you. When she died she knew. WHORE Who are you calling a filthy whore? OLD WOMAN We won t have any trouble here. This is a respectable establishment. I count gentleman among my clients. Gentlemen? She thought gentlemen were charming. She thought love was good. She thought there s no harm in giving her heart away. When she lay dying then she understood; Gentlemen charming? That s not true. Love is good? Not always so. She s dead -now she knows.

37 36 (ENTER ) WHORE Here he comes, the Devil s Bargain. Don t call me that. WHORE What would you prefer? Prince Charming? What? WHORE Here, mother, get a pipe for Romeo. OLD WOMAN (giving a pipe) Best opium this side of Peking. (to the WHORE) What did you call him? WHORE That s Prince Charming. Romeo. The Devil s Bargain. (grabbing hold of Dorian) Murderer! What do you want, you madman? OLD WOMAN We won t have not trouble here. This is a respectable establishment. Sybil Vane was my sister. She killed herself. Her death is at your door. I swore to kill you. I had no clue, no trace except the pet names she called you. Get down on your knees and make you peace with God I am going to kill you. Sybil Vane? I have never heard of her. You are mad.

38 37 Get down on your knees and pray to God for you are going to die. Wait! Wait for God s sake. How long ago is it since your sister died? How long? Eighteen years. What do years matter? What does time matter? Eighteen years! Eighteen years? Set me under the lamp and look at my face. ( does so) My God, you are a boy.no older now than she was then.. and I would have killed you. God forgive me. Forgive me. ( releases ) Let this be a warning to you, not to take vengeance into your own hands. (EXIT ) WHORE Why didn t you kill him? You should have killed him. He has lots of money and he s as bad as bad. He s not the man I am looking for. I want no man s money. I want a man s life. The man I am looking for must be nearly forty by now. This one is little more than a boy. Thank God I do not have his blood upon my hands. WHORE Little more than a boy? - Why, man, it s nearly eighteen years since Prince Charming made me what I am. Liar! WHORE By God, it s the truth. They say he sold himself to the devil for a pretty face. It must be eighteen years since I met him he hasn t changed a bit. I have though. His name? What s his name?

39 38 WHORE His name is Dorian Gray. SCENE 6a. BEFORE THE BALL. IN EVENING DRESS. ALONE. The woods decay, the woods decay and fall, Loves spring and wither; pleasures glow then fade, Flowers are dust and after many a summer dies the swan, Me only Time forgets. Sybil. Love. Regrets. It must be nearly time. No. My Midnight Hour will never chime. SCENE 6b THE BALL. MASKED DANCERS... DUCHESS OF MONMOUTH., LURKING. DUCHESS to Art? A disease. Keep dancing. We unmask at midnight. DUCHESS Love? An illusion. Keep dancing We unmask at midnight DUCHESS Religion? The substitute for belief.

40 39 Keep dancing We unmask at midnight DUCHESS Women? Sphinxes without secrets. Keep dancing We unmask at midnight. unmasking and pointing a pistol at ) Dorian Gray- I accuse you I accuse you of Murder. I accuse you of the death of Sybil Vane. She loved you. I accuse you of stamping on her heart I accuse you of crushing her youth. She was an angel of love. I am an angel of death. She was my sister. I promised her that I would hunt you down. She was my sister She said love made people good. I promised her. I promised her I would not hurt something she loved. She loved you. She was an angel of love. I could not hurt something she loved. She was my sister. I am an angel of death. ( shoots himself. faints) DUCHESS My God. A madman. I didn t think people did things like that anymore.

41 40 SCENE 7. and I am going to change. You are still in shock. Don t ever change - you are quite perfect as you are. I am going to be good. Then you must move to the country. There are no temptations there. That is why country people are so uncivilised in the country there is neither culture not corruption. Culture and Corruption I have known something of both. It seems terrible to me that they should ever be found together. I am going to change I feel I have changed for the good of my soul. There is no such thing as Soul. Art has a Soul but Man has not. Don t Harry, the soul is a reality. It can be bought and sold, it can be poisoned or made perfect. There is a soul in each one of us. Are you quite sure of that? Quite sure. Then it must be an illusion the things one feels absolutely certain of are never true. Don t be so serious. What have you or I to do with the superstitions of our age? No we have given up our belief in the soul. Play me something play me a nocturne, Dorian ( starts to play)

42 41 And as you play, tell me how you have kept your youth your secret - whisper it to me- You have never looked more wonderful than you do tonight. You remind me of the day I first saw you- still as beautiful- still as bright. I am faded old and wrinkled and yellow and worn I can almost hear the grave yawn. Youth! I would do anything to get back my youth, anything in the world Except exercise or get up early. Youth. The tragedy of old age is not that one is old but that one is young. He said I murdered her. Who? Oh, that extraordinary madman melodrama, my dear boy, learned no doubt at one of the shocking theatres these people frequent. They say Basil was murdered. Who would murder Basil? He wasn t clever enough to have made any enemies. What would you say, Harry, if I told you I had murdered Basil? I would say you were posing for a picture that didn t suit you. All crime is vulgar just as all vulgarity is crime. It is not in you to commit a murder I am sorry if I hurt your vanity. Crime belongs exclusively to the lower orders. Crime is to them what Art is to us simply a method of procuring extraordinary sensations. Simply a method of procuring extraordinary sensations. By the way, what has become of that wonderful portrait he did of you. I don t think I have ever seen it since he finished it?

43 42 Why do you mention it? It used to remind me of those lines in some tragedy Like the painting of a sorrow, A face without a heart. A face without a heart. How perfect you were how perfect you are. What an exquisite life you have led. You have drunk deeply of everything. Nothing has been hidden from you. And it has all been to you no more than the sound of music. It has not marred you. You are still the same. I am not the same. Yes, you are what will your future be? Don t spoil it by renunciations don t make your self incomplete. I wish I could change places with you. The world has cried out against us both but it has always worshipped you. It will always worship you. You are its ideal Your life has been your Art You have set yourself to music. Your days are sonnets. I have drunk deeply of everything? Everything I have drunk was bitter poisoned poisoned by you. Nothing has been hidden from me and I have only seen horrors horrors of your making. Music howling Sonnets lamentation. Your worship is corruption. Your praise is poison. If I had never met you what might I not have been? Something pure? Something of Truth. Go, Harry You foolish old man. (EXIT )

44 43 (in front of the portrait) Is that a smile that wasn t there before? A smile? A sneer? Is virtue vanity? Curiosity? Hypocrisy? Nothing more in renunciation than that? What? Confess? Who would believe me? They would think me mad. Still sneering. I will kill you. I killed the painter. I will kill his work. I will kill youth and beauty. I will kill conscience. I will kill the past. Time return. Midnight strike. ( STABS THE PICTURE. A HIDEOUS SCREAM.) (THE REAL LIES ON THE FLOOR, DEAD.) (ENTER TWO SERVANTS) FIRST SERVANT Who is that? SECOND SERVANT Dorian Gray. END OF ACT TWO.