At home he thought about his conversation with Lord Henry. Could he really change, he wondered? He had lived an evil life, and had destroyed other people's lives as well. Was there any hope for him?
回到家，多里安想了一遍和亨利勋爵的谈话，他真的能变好吗？他一直都在当恶人，甚至还毁了其他人的生活。他真的还有希望吗？
Why had he ever made that wish about picture? He had kept his youth and beautiful, but he had paid a terrible price for it. His beauty had destroyed his soul. He picked up a mirror and stared at his face. What was he now? A face without a heart. Suddenly he hated his own beauty, and dropped the mirror on the floor where it broke into many small pieces.
为什么他要向画像许那样的愿？他是保持了年轻美貌但也付出了巨大代价。美貌已经把他的灵魂全毁了。他拿起一面镜子，端详起自己的脸。他现在是什么样子呢？是一张没有心的脸。倏然，他恨极了这张脸，猛地把镜子摔到地上，砸个粉碎。
James Vane, Basil Hallward, Sybil Vane - these deaths were not important to him now. It was better not to think of the past. Nothing could change that. He must think of himself. "Perhaps" he thought, "if i live a better life, the picture will become less ugly." He remembered the pretty village girl - he had not destroyed her young life. He had done one good thing. perhaps the picture had already begun to look better.
詹姆斯·文恩，巴兹尔·霍尔沃德，西比尔·文恩……这些死者都已不重要了。最好也不去想过去，毕竟事已成定居，但他必须替自己着想。他想：“或许…我要是当好人的话，画像应该就不会那么丑了。”他想起那个漂亮的乡下女孩――他没毁了她年轻的生命。他做了件好事，或许画像已经好多了。
He went quietly upstairs to the blocked room. Yes, he would live a good life, and he need not be afraid any more of the evil face of his soul. But when he uncovered the picture, he gave a cry of pain. There was no change. The face in this picture was still terrible - more hateful, if possible, than before - and the red on the hand seemed brighter, like new blood.
他悄悄上楼，到那间锁了的房间里。是的，他想要过一种好的生活，便不再惧怕那张暴露他灵魂的丑恶嘴脸，但当他掀开画像时，还是发出一阵痛苦的尖叫，画像一点都没变。画像上的脸还是那么瘆人――应该是更瘆人了，相比之前――指尖多了一抹鲜红，似乎是新的血液。
He stared at the picture with hate and fear in his eyes. Years ago he had loved to watch it changing and growing old. now he could not sleep because of it. It had stolen every chance of peace and happiness from him. He must destroy it.
他盯着画像，满眼恐惧和害怕。多年前，他很享受它的改变与变老，现在却因它寝食难安。它偷走他的每一份安宁和幸福。他要毁了它。
He looked round and saw the knife that had killed Basil Hallward. "Now it will kill the artist's work." he said to himself. "It will kill the past, and when that is death, I will be free." He picked up the knife and dug it into the picture.
他环顾四周，看到一把刀，杀死巴兹尔·霍尔沃德的那把刀。“现在也要用它毁了画家的作品”他喃喃自语。“那会毁了他的过去，画不存在了，他也就自由了。”他拿起刀，刺向画像。
There was a terrible cry, and a loud crash. The servants woke, and two gentlemen, who were passing in the road below, stopped and looked up the house. A policeman came by, and they asked him:
传出一阵可怕的惨叫声，紧接着是倒地声。惊醒了屋里的下人，也惊动了从屋外路过两个年轻人，他们停下脚步，看着房子。走过来一个警察，便开问：
"Whose house is that?"
“那是谁的家？”
"Mr Dorian Gray's, sir." was the answer.
“是多里安·格雷先生的家，先生”警察回。
The two gentlemen looked at each other, then turned away from the house and walked on.
两人对视一眼，转身从屋子旁走开了。
Inside the house the servants talked in low, frightened voices. After some minutes they went up to the room. They knocked, but there was no reply. They called out. Nothing. They could not open the door, so they climbed down from the roof and got in through the window.
屋内，下人们正低声、巍巍颤颤地谈论着。几分钟后，他们上楼到房门外，用力敲门，无人应答；竭力叫喊，无人回应。他们打不开门，便从屋顶往下爬，从窗户钻进房间里。
多里安生时，美艳不可方物；死时，形容枯槁，面目可憎，脸色蜡黄。其实哪有什么永葆青春的法子，只不过是一场以灵魂为代价的交易。
Against the wall they saw a fine portrait of the young Dorian Gray, in all his wonderful youth and beauty. Lying on the flood was a dead man, with a knife in his heart. His face was old and ugly and yellow with disease.
墙面上挂着一幅多里安年轻时样貌清丽的画像。地板上躺着个死人，心上插了把刀子，他形容枯槁、面目可憎、面色蜡黄。
Only the rings on his fingers told them who he was.
只有他手上带着的戒指向他们透露着死者是谁。
更多译文：
Ps:本书为牛津系列简易读物，作者是英国作家奥斯卡·王尔德。英文为书虫系列原文，译文是笔者翻译。
本文仅是个人兴趣而译，故本文谢绝转载和各种商业用途，再者承诺出现任何责任由本作者承担，必要时简书可删除文章。
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