The Picture of Dorian Gray

Lord Henry Wotton had set himself early in life to the serious study...

of the great aristocratic art of doing absolutely nothing.

He lived only for pleasure...

but his greatest pleasure was to observe the emotions of his friends...

while experiencing none of his own.

He diverted himself by exercising a subtle influence on the lives of others.

Eighteen, I think you said, sir.

- Shall I wait, sir? - Yes.

Among Lord Henry's friends was the painter Basil Hallward.

He had been strangely secretive about his latest painting...

and Lord Henry, sensing a mystery...

determined to discover what it was that his friend wished to conceal.

I'm sorry, my lord, Mr. Hallward is not at home.

Mr. Hallward doesn't wish to be disturbed.

It's your best work, Basil. The best thing you've ever done.

Of course, I can't believe that anyone is really as handsome as that portrait.

Who is he? What's his name? Why are you being so secretive about it?

It's a great painting.

You ought to send it to the Grosvenor and let everyone admire it.

- I shall not send it anywhere. - But why?

I've put too much of myself into it.

I knew you'd laugh, but it's true all the same.

Well, there certainly isn't any resemblance between you and this young Adonis.

You have an intellectual expression, and intellect destroys the beauty of any face.

Don't flatter yourself, Basil. You're not in the least like him.

Of course I'm not like him. And I'm glad of it.

"The Wisdom of Buddha."

You always did have a passion for virtue, Basil.

Why are you glad you're not like him?

We suffer for what the gods give us...

and I'm afraid Dorian Gray will pay for his good looks.

Dorian Gray. Is that his name?

Yes. I didn't intend to tell it to you.

If I'm going to keep visiting you, I'll have to send some good sherry.

- Why didn't you intend to tell me his name? - I can't explain.

As I've grown older, I've come to love secrecy.

I suppose that sounds foolish to you.

Come into the garden. It doesn't sound foolish to me at all.

You forget that I am married and that the one charm of marriage...

is that it makes a life of deception absolutely necessary to both parties.

I believe you are really a very good husband, Harry...

but that you are thoroughly ashamed of your own virtues.

- Your cynicism is simply a pose. - Being natural is simply a pose...

and the most irritating pose I know. But you haven't answered my question.

I want to know the real reason why you won't exhibit Dorian Gray's picture.

There is really very little to tell, Harry. Besides, I'm afraid you will hardly believe it.

I can believe anything provided that it is quite incredible.

I'm afraid this will seem so.

There is something I can't quite understand.

- Something mystic about it. - Mystic?

I don't know how to explain it, but whenever Dorian poses for me...

it seems as if a power outside myself were guiding my hand.

It's as if the painting had a life of its own, independent of me.

That's why I'm not going to exhibit it.

It belongs rightfully to Dorian, and I shall give it to him.

I want to meet this extraordinary young man. I think we shall be friends.

I choose my friends for their good looks and my enemies for their good intellects.

A man cannot be too careful in his choice of enemies.

Harry, I despise your principles, but I do enjoy the way you express them.

I like persons better than principles...

and persons with no principles better than anything else.

- Now I remember. - Remember what, Harry?

- Where I heard the name of Dorian Gray. - Where was it?

Well, don't look so startled. It was at my Aunt Agatha's.

My aunt told me that she had discovered a wonderful young man...

who was going to help with her charities and that his name was Dorian Gray.

I pictured somebody with spectacles and lank hair...

tramping about on huge feet, and so I avoided meeting him.

That's a very common type of butterfly.

Limenitis sibylla. It hardly belongs in a gentleman's garden.

- I'm glad you didn't meet Dorian Gray. - Why?

I don't want you to meet him.

Who's that at your piano, Basil?

- You've come early today, Dorian. - Have I?

You must lend me these pieces, Basil. I want to learn them.

Depends on how you sit this afternoon.

I thought the picture was going to be done today.

It will be.

Please go on, Mr. Gray. You play brilliantly.

This is Lord Henry Wotton, Dorian. An old Oxford friend of mine.

My aunt has spoken to me about you.

You are one of her favorites and one of her victims too.

- You shouldn't go in for philanthropy. - Harry, I want to finish this picture.

Would you think it rude if I asked you to go away?

Am I to go, Mr. Gray?

- Stay and tell me why not philanthropy. - You don't really mind, do you, Basil?

You've told me that you liked your sitters to have someone to chat to.

Sit down then, Harry.

Now, Dorian, get up on the platform...

and don't pay any attention to what Lord Henry says.

He has a bad influence over his friends, with the single exception of myself.

Have you really a bad influence, Lord Henry?

There's no such thing as a good influence, Mr. Gray.

- All influence is immoral. - Why?

Because the aim of life is self-development.

To realize one's nature perfectly.

That's what we're here for.

A man should live out his life fully and completely...

give form to every feeling, expression to every thought...

reality to every dream.

Every impulse that we suppress broods in the mind and poisons us.

There's only one way to get rid of a temptation and that's to yield to it.

Resist it and the soul grows sick...

with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself.

There is nothing that can cure the soul but the senses.

Just as there is nothing that can cure the senses but the soul.

Turn your head a little more to the left, Dorian.

The gods have been good to you, Mr. Gray.

Why do you say that?

You have the most marvelous youth...

- and youth is the one thing worth having. - I don't feel that, Lord Henry.

You don't feel it now, but some day you'll feel it terribly.

What the gods give, they quickly take away.

Time is jealous of you, Mr. Gray.

Don't squander the gold of your days. Live. Let nothing be lost upon you.

Be afraid of nothing.

There is such a little time that your youth will last...

and you can never get it back.

As we grow older, our memories are haunted...

by the exquisite temptations we hadn't the courage to yield to.

The world is yours for a season.

It would be tragic if you realized too late...

as so many others do...

that there is only one thing in the world worth having, and that is youth.

Dorian Gray had never heard the praise of folly so eloquently expressed.

The creed of pleasure soared into a philosophy of life...

while Dorian stood as if he were under a spell.

He felt afraid of Lord Henry's ideas and ashamed of himself for being afraid.

It was as if he were learning to know himself for the first time...

as if a stranger had revealed his own most secret thoughts to him.

For the first time he became conscious of his youth...

and conscious of the fact that one day he would lose it.

My visit hasn't been wasted.

I've found a rare and beautiful butterfly, Euvanesse antiope.

It's very unusual in England. Don't you think it's beautiful, Mr. Gray?

- Yes, Lord Henry, very beautiful. - You may sit down now, Dorian.

I'm glad you met Lord Henry.

- Are you glad, Mr. Gray? - I'm glad now.

- I wonder if I shall always be glad. - "Always"?

That's a dreadful word. It makes me shudder to hear it.

Women are so fond of using it.

They spoil every romance by trying to make it last forever.

The only difference between a caprice and a life-long passion is...

the caprice lasts a little longer.

But I believe our hostess has appeared.

You're just in time, darling...

to witness my signature to Dorian's painting.

Could I sign it too?

Well, I think you're entitled to. Since you haven't missed a sitting.

Here.

G for Gladys.

Which do you prefer, Gladys, Dorian Gray or his picture?

I like Dorian best.

Heh. You prefer him today, but when you are a young lady...

and are turning all the heads in London, you may prefer the portrait.

For it will look just as it does today, but we shall all be changed.

And not for the better. Your uncle and I and even Dorian.

Dorian won't change.

Dorian will stay just as he is until I'm grown.

Won't you, Dorian?

Of course I shall, darling.

You may say goodbye now, precious. Nanny's waiting. Come along. Hurry.

- On your way. - What about me, young lady?

Has Dorian Gray stolen you from me completely?

- Goodbye, Lord Henry. - Heh.

When this is known, I shall be torn to shreds in every drawing room in London.

Don't you think a gentleman should remove his hat...

in the presence of a lady, Parker?

I never take off my hat except when I'm out of doors.

She'll be as lovely as your sister was, Basil.

Yes.

But I'm afraid Dorian has stolen her heart from me too.

I must congratulate you, Basil. Look at yourself, Mr. Gray.

As I grow old, this picture will remain always young.

If it were only the other way.

If it were I who was always to be young and the picture that was to grow old.

You would hardly care for such an arrangement, Basil.

- It would be hard lines on your work. - I should object strongly.

You oughtn't to express such a wish in the presence of that cat, Dorian.

It's one of the 73 great gods of Egypt and is quite capable of granting your wish.

Lord Henry is right.

I know now that when one loses one's youth, one loses everything.

Perhaps a cup of tea will bring you around. You'll have some, too, won't you, Harry?

Or do you object to such simple pleasures?

I adore simple pleasures. They're the last refuge of the complex.

It's more than a painting. It's part of myself.

As soon as you're varnished and framed, Dorian, you will be sent home.

You can do whatever you like with yourself.

Better send along the Egyptian cat. The god and the picture shouldn't be separated.

I will, if Dorian wants it.

If only the picture could change, and I could be always what I am now.

For that I would give everything.

Yes, there's nothing in the whole world I would not give.

I would give my soul for that.

Dorian began to venture alone on warm summer evenings...

into surroundings which were strange to him.

Filled with curiosity about places and people remote from his own experience...

he wandered to the half-world of London...

the words of Lord Henry vibrating in his mind.

"Live. Let nothing be lost upon you. Be afraid of nothing."