{"id":10679,"date":"2017-09-04T21:19:32","date_gmt":"2017-09-04T21:19:32","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.myedme.com\/login\/?p=10679"},"modified":"2017-09-04T21:19:32","modified_gmt":"2017-09-04T21:19:32","slug":"DorianGrayEtext6","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/myedme.com\/login\/DorianGrayEtext6\/","title":{"rendered":"Chapter 5, page 7"},"content":{"rendered":"

Table of Contents<\/a><\/p>\n

She seemed not to listen to him. She was transfigured with joy. An ecstasy of happiness dominated her.<\/p>\n

"Dorian, Dorian," she cried, "before I knew you, acting was the one reality of my life. It was only in the theatre that I lived. I thought that it was all true. I was Rosalind one night, and Portia the other. The joy of Beatrice was my joy, and the sorrows of Cordelia were mine also. I believed in everything. The common people who acted with me seemed to me to be godlike. The painted scenes were my world. I knew nothing but shadows, and I thought them real. You came,––oh, my beautiful love!––and you freed my soul from prison. You taught me what reality really is. To–night, for the first time in my life, I saw through the hollowness, the sham, the silliness, of the empty pageant in which I had always played. To–night, for the first time, I became conscious that the Romeo was hideous, and old, and painted, that the moonlight in the orchard was false, that the scenery was vulgar, and that the words I had to speak were unreal, were not my words, not what I wanted to say. You had brought me something higher, something of which all art is but a reflection. You have made me understand what love really is. My love! my love! I am sick of shadows. You are more to me than all art can ever be. What have I to do with the puppets of a play? When I came on to–night, I could not understand how it was that everything had gone from me. Suddenly it dawned on my soul what it all meant. The knowledge was exquisite to me. I heard them hissing, and I smiled. What should they know of love? Take me away, Dorian––take me away with you, where we can be quite alone. I hate the stage. I might mimic a passion that I do not feel, but I cannot mimic one that burns me like fire. Oh, Dorian, Dorian, you understand now what it all means? Even if I could do it, it would be profanation for me to play at being in love. You have made me see that."<\/p>\n

He flung himself down on the sofa, and turned away his face. "You have killed my love," he muttered.<\/p>\n

<\/h3>\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Chapter 5, page 6<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"opened","ping_status":"opened","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[78,71],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10679","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-edMe-Free","category-Hatchet"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/myedme.com\/login\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10679","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/myedme.com\/login\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/myedme.com\/login\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myedme.com\/login\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myedme.com\/login\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10679"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/myedme.com\/login\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10679\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/myedme.com\/login\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10679"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myedme.com\/login\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10679"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myedme.com\/login\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10679"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}