Good God, Dorian, what a lesson! What an awful lesson!… Pray, Dorian, pray… The prayer of your pride has been answered. The prayer of your repentance will be answered also. I worshipped you too much. I am punished for it. You worshipped yourself too much. We are both punished.
Basil finally sees what the portrait shows and turns to prayer. The doubled “lesson” carries shock and moral weight. He contrasts two prayers—pride’s and repentance’s—to open a door back to goodness. Confession softens his voice; he blames his own worship, not only Dorian’s vanity. The parallel sentences (“I… You… We…”) build a rhythm of shared guilt. This is the novel’s most open-hearted attempt at rescue. It hurts because it comes so late.