Sibyl Vane

“ In the garden-scene it had all the tremulous ecstasy that one hears just before dawn when nightingales are singing. There were moments, later on, when it had the wild passion of violins. You know how a voice can stir one. Your voice and the voice of Sibyl Vane are two things that I shall never forget. When I close my eyes, I hear them, and each of them says something different. I don't know which to follow. Why should I not love her? Harry, I do love her. She is everything to me in life. Night after night I go to see her play. ”

“ 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 the dead lovers of the world to hear our laughter, and grow sad. I want a breath of our passion to stir their dust into consciousness, to wake their ashes into pain. ”

“ "Well, I can't help going to see Sibyl play, even if it is only for an act. I get hungry for her presence; and when I think of the wonderful soul that is hidden away in that little ivory body, I am filled with awe."
"You can dine with me to-night, Dorian, can't you?"
He shook his head. "To-night she is Imogen," he answered, "and tomorrow night she will be Juliet."
"When is she Sibyl Vane?"
"Never."
"I congratulate you." ”

“ His sudden mad love for Sibyl Vane was a psychological phenomenon of no small interest. There was no doubt that curiosity had much to do with it, curiosity and the desire for new experiences, yet it was not a simple, but rather a very complex passion. ”

“ Vane winced, and put her thin bismuth-whitened hands on her daughter's head. "Happy!" she echoed, "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." ”

“ She left them waving farewells.
"Oh," she thought, "the world is all alike. Mad or sane, office-boy or Saint Syrol's prophet, or Englishwoman at large in America—we are all looking for dreams to come true, and longing to run away to find them. Perhaps that is why they don't come to us."
The shadows were lengthening and growing indistinct, and the sun hung low and red above the poplars at the edge of the far field. For the first time, as she looked, Lady Sibyl felt alarm, for the lowering sun takes confidence with him, a hostage. Then the spirit of the day danced back to her face. ”

“ I think him a right down good fellow.”
“The best in all the world?” queried Sibyl.
“I am sure at least of one thing, that no little girl ever had a fonder father.”
“And you own up you told a lie? You do own up that father’s quite perfect?”
“Men like myself don’t care to own themselves in the wrong,” said Lord Grayleigh, “and the fact is—listen, you queer little mortal—I don’t like perfect people. It is true that I have never met any.”
“You have met my father and my mother.”
“Come, Sibyl, shall we make a compromise? I like you, I want you to like me. ”

“ It was a very great honor to have been born their little girl. Every morning when Sibyl knelt to pray, and every evening when she offered up her nightly petitions, she thanked God most earnestly for having given her as parents those two perfect people known to the world as Philip Ogilvie and his wife.
“It was so awfully kind of you, Jesus,” Sibyl would say, “and I must try to grow up as nearly good as I can, because of You and father and mother. I must try not to be cross, and I must try not to be vain, and I must try to love my lessons. I don’t think I am really vain, Jesus. ”

“ She was like one of the lesser angels when she asked for advice.
"I don't know," he confessed ruefully, "but if I were a woman, I'd find a way."
"You disappoint me," pouted Lady Sibyl; "women are always being decorated with generalizations instead of fed with suggestions. Why don't you tell me to go and put bubbles in my hair and dance in the south wood all night? You aren't practical."
Queenborough rose. "Pamela," he said, with mock severity, "who is this Lady Sibyl whom you are passing as your sister?—for anyone less like the accepted British maid I have never seen." ”

“ Sibyl, dearest, are you ill—fainting!"
Pale, trembling, and excited, the once fearless Sibyl Campbell clung to his arm, white with vague, sickening horror. Superstitious to an unusual degree, an awful presentiment had clutched her heart; and, for a moment she seemed dying in his arms.
"Sibyl! Sibyl! my dearest love!" he said, in alarm, "what is it?"
"Nothing—nothing," she answered, in a tremulous voice; "but, oh, Willard! do you believe the prediction?"
"Strange, wild girl that you are! has this idle talk frightened you so?" he said, smiling at her wild, dilated eyes. ”

“ I only say I think there may be men here; if there are, your noise will only reveal where we are; if there are not, there is no occasion for your terror. Come, follow me; we must search the house."
"Oh, Miss Sibyl, I's afeard! 'Deed, de Lord knows I's afeard!" said poor Lem, in shivering tones.
"Pshaw! Do you think you will be any safer here? Come, give over your fears, and follow me," said Sibyl, as she turned toward the hall once more.
"Oh, Miss Sibyl, don't wenture! We'll be all 'sassinated if you do." ”

“ Carnaby had seemed ever so little to agree with her.
For all that, they were not quite so well attuned to each other as when the young married woman, indifferent seemingly to social distinction, patronised the ambitious girl, and, by the mere bestowal of confidence, subtly flattered her. In those days Alma did not feel it as patronage, for Sibyl's social position was perhaps superior to her own, and in things of the intellect (apart from artistic endowment) she sincerely looked up to her friend. Together they trod ground above the heads of ordinary women in their world. ”

“ To her delight his face was one substantial wreath of smiles, not derisive nor abashed, as a boy's smiles are wont to be, but plainly sympathetic. As for the little old lady, she nodded as simply as if Lady Sibyl had announced herself to be upon an expedition to purchase late pippins.
"Aye," she said comprehendingly, "but they're hard to find—the dreams we used to have." ”

“ Oh, Sibyl, in a moment of thoughtless passion he married me; but all the time he loved you best. I can see it all now. He loved you then—he loves you now, better than all the world."
"And you can forgive him for the irreparable wrong he has done you—a deserted home, a blighted life, and an early death? Christie, you are an angel!"
"No, no; only a frail sinner, with so much to be forgiven herself, that she can easily, joyfully forgive that. Sibyl, my hours are numbered. ”

“ Maverick smiled appreciatively. "Today is the good old man's birthday," said he, "and it is called Saint Syrol's day, though few celebrate it. But it falls out that on this day the hearts of all true believers, whether they know about the saint or not, are wonderfully stirred. And they are seized with a desire to go out and find magic."
Lady Sibyl looked away in the dim silver of the woods at her right, and though she would have spoken she fell silent, with the wonder of it all. ”

“ Sibyl's character--mind and heart and body and soul--had been formed by the strength and purity of her mountain environment; by her association with her parents, with Myra Willard, and with her parents' life-long friends; and by her mental comradeship with the greatest spirits that music and literature have given to the world. As her physical strength and beauty was the gift of her free mountain life, the beauty and strength of her pure spirit was the gift of those kindred spirits that are as mountains in the mental and spiritual life of the race. ”

“ Into the golden wilderness of the Park they plunged presently, and then Lady Sibyl drew breath. She was now fairly embarked upon her enterprise, and the long day stretched invitingly before her. It was not yet noon, this whole alien world of which she had suddenly become a part was smiling and singing about her, the hoarse call of every passing motor was like a greeting and a challenge, and here was she, Sibyl Chevelton, roving at large in America, accompanied only by a smiling boy bribed to doubtful acquiescence by chestnuts and apples. ”

“ What, in her frenzy, may she not dare to do; for, verily, she comes of a daring race. Oh, Christie! Christie! what a storm of passion have I not raised for your sake!"
"So I can make you start and shrink already!" exclaimed Sibyl, with fierce exultation. "Oh, you will find what it is to drive Sibyl Campbell to desperation. So you thought you could make me your plaything for an hour, and then throw me aside for the first new face you encountered. Oh, potent, wise and far-seeing Willard Drummond, what a judge of character thou art!" ”

“ Oh! I wronged him by ever doubting his truth. I could stake my hopes of heaven on his fidelity now," exclaimed Sibyl, with some of her old fierce impetuosity.
"Thank Heaven for that!" said Mrs. Brantwell, with a sigh of relief. "Oh! Sibyl, dearest, eradicate forever from your heart this fatal dream of jealousy; to doubt one we love is deepest misery."
"Oh! I know it; I know it," said Sibyl, with a shudder, as she recalled the stormy past.
And just then the tripping of light feet approaching the door was heard.
"It is the girls coming back to take you down stairs," said Mrs. Brantwell. ”

“ I've been up in the woods of your Westchester County, and I've found out what England and most of America do not know—that the twentieth-century woods have all the dead centuries in them, waiting to be re-lived."
Mr. Madder shrugged his shoulders. "Women of imagination—" he began to repeat.
"What an interestin' fancy, Lady Sibyl!" said the Marquis of Winnesdale.
When the last guest arrived, Lady Sibyl was looking over some music. Mrs. Queenborough, presenting him to her with a grave, modulated word or two to the effect that he was to take her sister down, went off on the arm of the marquis. ”

“ They soon arrived at Richmond, and got into the carriage which was waiting for them, and drove to Silverbel. They had lunch at the inn as arranged, and then they wandered about the grounds, and presently Sibyl had her wish, for Rochester and Lady Helen strolled away from her mother and herself, and walked down a shady path to the right of the house.
“There they go!” cried the child.
“There who go, Sibyl?” asked Mrs. Ogilvie.
“The one who wants to marry the other,” replied Sibyl. “Hush, mother, we are not to know, we are to be quite blind. Aren’t you awfully incited?” ”

“ And I remembered every day the way the woods smelled, and when it came bonfire time I wonder I didn't go crazy. And at last, this morning, when I found the mallowberries ripe, I took some cakes and went through the orchard. I want to be lost. It is never a real holiday until you're lost. Do you travel far?"
"We don't know," answered Lady Sibyl truthfully. "Some distance, probably. The truth is," she added mischievously, "we're looking for a dream—the sort of dream we used to have."
Lady Sibyl glanced merrily at Tibby. ”

“ Pray God forgive Sibyl, and try to make her better.
“Now, father, you’re pleased,” continued the little girl. “It was very hard to say that, because really, truly, I don’t want to be better, but I’ll try hard if it pleases you.”
“Yes, Sibyl, try hard,” said her father, “try very hard to be good. Don’t let goodness go. Grasp it tight with both hands and never let it go. So may God indeed help you.” Ogilvie said these words in a strained voice. ”

“ Ogilvie. “Ah! there is my train; kiss me, darling.”
She flung her arms tightly round his neck.
“Sibyl, just promise before I leave you that you will be a good girl, that you will make goodness the first thing in life. If, for instance, we were never to meet again—of course we shall, thousands of times, but just suppose, for the sake of saying it, that we did not, I should like to know that my little girl put goodness first. There is nothing else worth the while in life. Cling on to it, Sibyl, cling tight hold to it. ”

“ The full tide of the joy of things, that inner joy that comes not in the doing, or the having, or even the knowing of anything in the world, but rather in the being of something akin to all gracious aspects, the full entering into and abiding among the homeliest beauty of outdoor living, suddenly possessed and mastered Lady Sibyl, and she burst into a glad little snatch of song for the pure bliss of the moment, for the pure gratitude of being one of those to whom the Hidden Magic has been revealed. ”

“ How well he succeeded, we all know; and Sibyl would have died an ignominious death for his crime, had not a retributive Providence sent Christie here at the eleventh hour to save her, and bring his crime to light; but too late to save her from the shame and humiliation of what has passed. May the foul fiend catch his soul for it!"
"Oh, brother! hush!" said Sibyl, laying her hand on his arm. "Remember you speak of the dead!"
"This is monstrous," said Mr. Brantwell, in a tone of horror. "I never dreamt that any man in his senses could have committed such a crime." ”

“ Sibyl’s love for Martha was innocent, pure, and good. Her admiration for Betty was the generous and romantic affection which a little schoolgirl gives to another girl older than herself who is both brilliant and captivating. But, after all, Betty had lost her sceptre and laid down her crown. Betty, for some extraordinary reason, was in disgrace, and Fanny was in the zenith of her power. It would be magnificent to be a Speciality! How those girls who thought little or nothing of Sibyl now would admire her when she passed into that glorious state! ”