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'Yes．'
"是的。"
'Then uncover that picture， Basil，and you will see my soul．'
"那么掀开画像，巴兹尔，你会看见我的灵魂。"
A cry of horror came from the artist when he saw the terrible face in the portrait． How could that evil and unlovely face be Dorian Gray's？But yes，it was．He went nearer to the picture．It could not be the portrait that he had painted．But yes， there was his name written in the corner． He turned and looked at Dorian Gray with the eyes of a sick man．
画家看见画像可怕的脸时发出了恐怖的喊叫。那张邪恶可憎的脸怎么可能是多里安·格雷的？可真是的，它是。他又走近画像，这不可能是他画的那幅。然而的确是他画的，画像的一角写有他的名字。他转身用病人似的眼神看着多里安·格雷。
'What does this mean？'he asked at last．
"这是怎么回事？"他最后问。
'When you finished the portrait，'replied Dorian，'I made a wish…'
"你完成画像时，"多里安答道，"我许了一个愿……"
'I remember，yes，'said Basil．'You wished that the picture could become old，and that you could stay young．But this…'He stared again at the picture．'This is impossible．And you told me that you'd destroyed the picture．'
"我记起来了。"巴兹尔说。"你希望画像会变老，你会永远年轻。可是这……"他又盯着画像："这是不可能的，而且你告诉我你已经把画像毁了。"
'I was wrong．It has destroyed me．'
"我错了，是画像毁了我。"
'My God，Dorian！'cried the artist．'If this is true…If this is the face of your soul， then you are more evil than the worst of the stories about you．'He sat down at the table and put his face in his hands．'You must ask God for his help．'
"上帝，多里安！"画家喊着，"如果这是真的……如果这是你灵魂的脸，那么你比关于你的最坏的传说还要邪恶。"他坐在桌旁，手捂住脸。"你必须向上帝乞求帮助。"
'It's too late， Basil．'
"太迟了，巴兹尔。"
'It's never too late， Dorian．Look at that terrible face．Look at it！'
"还不晚，多里安。看那张可怕的脸，看啊！"
Dorian turned and stared at the face in the picture， and suddenly he hated Basil more than he had ever hated anyone in his life．Basil now knew his secret， and had seen the real Dorian Gray．Violent feelings burned inside Dorian．He picked up a knife from the table． Then the hate inside him exploded，and like a wild animal， he ran towards Basil，and dug the knife into the artist's neck，again and again and again．The murdered man's head fell forwards， and the blood ran slowly across the table，and down onto the floor．
多里安转身凝视着画像中的脸，突然他比一生中恨其他的人更恨巴兹尔。巴兹尔现在知道了他的秘密，也看见了真正的多里安·格雷。强烈的情感在多里安心中燃烧，他从桌上拿起了一把刀。心中的仇恨爆发了，他像一只野兽冲向巴兹尔，用刀刺进了画家的脖子，一刀又一刀。被杀人的头朝前耷拉下来，鲜血慢慢流到桌子上，又流到地板上。
Dorian stood and listened． He could hear nothing-only the drip， drip of blood onto the floor． He went to the window and looked down into the street． He felt strangely calm． The friend who had painted his portrait had gone out of his life．That was all．
多里安站着听听动静，他听不见任何声音--只有鲜血流到地板上的嘀嗒声。他走到窗边，向下看着街道。他很平静，这有点奇怪。给他画像的朋友已经从他的生活里消失了，仅此而已。
He locked the door behind him and went quietly downstairs．His servants were all in bed．He sat down and began to think．No one had seen Basil in Dorian's house tonight．Paris．Yes！Basil had gone to Paris， of course， so it would be six months before people asked where he was． Six months！That was more than enough time．
他锁上身后的门，轻轻走下楼。仆人都在睡觉。他坐下开始思考。今晚没人看见巴兹尔在多里安家。巴黎，是的！巴兹尔当然去了巴黎。因此半年后人们才会问起巴兹尔在哪儿。半年！时间足够了。
Dorian walked up and down the room． Then he took out a book from his desk and began to search for a name． Alan Campbell．Yes，that was the name that he wanted．
多里安在屋里踱步。然后他从书桌里取出一本书，开始找一个名字。艾伦·坎贝尔，是的，这就是他想找的名字。
