Dorian Gray Page #3

She was going to have your child.

And you killed her.

Jim! Jim!

Get up!

Are you all right, sir?

Let me...

- help you up.

- Sibyl's dead.

- Now, now.

- Good night, ladies.

Get up. Get up!

We can't have maniacs threatening

decent people in their own homes.

Alan treats a number

of such deranged cases at Broadmoor.

Just until he settles down.

Im confident any inquest

into this unfortunate business

will find no connection

whatsoever with Mr. Gray.

Taking you downtown.

This wasn't your fault, Dorian.

- Kelso said I was death.

- Well, he was wrong.

Salome.

Harry?

You're not making sense.

No! Please!

He's part of me, Harry.

- I turn all love into death.

- Dorian. Dorian!

Into death. Death!

Kelso was a bitter ruin of a man

and he's dead.

What's past is past.

Experience makes us strong, Dorian.

And you need to see this episode

for what it really is.

An extraordinary experience.

- I can't be so heartless.

- It isn't heartless.

Its finding a perspective.

Most lack the strength

to rise above life's suffering.

To rule one's emotions,

to savor them...

.. that takes a man of will.

Alan left this for you.

Drink. Doctor's orders.

I should be going.

Ill call in the morning.

Thank you, Harry.

You are a man of will, Dorian.

I knew it from the first.

Dorian, Dorian...

Im so, so sorry.

Harry... Harry told me about poor Sibyl.

If there's anything I can do...

You're very kind. Im actually

just on my way to see Harry now.

- Are you coming to the Radleys' ball?

- Er...

Where's my picture?

The light was too strong in here.

The light was perfect.

Where have you put it?

Its quite safe.

The truth is,

I don't want it on public show.

Its just too valuable.

I could forgive the vagaries of grief

if you actually seemed to be grieving.

I was...

stricken.

But what's past is past.

Every experience is of value. Drink?

You shouldn't believe

every word Harry says.

He doesn't.

Isnt this all just ghastly?

Radley gloating with pitiful pride

while his love-starved wife

parades her daughter

like a sow truffling for husbands.

Delightful little filly.

And poor Celia.

Trussed up in a doily for some

chinless miscreant to eternally enslave.

I suggest we raise a little hell.

Allow me to introduce myself.

I know who you are, Mr. Gray.

Allow me to offer my congratulations

on your ravishing debut.

Perhaps a small toast.

To what?

Intoxication.

- Here she comes.

- Who?

Celia?

- Celia?

- Problem, Lady Radley?

My daughter, I can't find her.

And nor can I find your Mr. Gray.

Perhaps they're in the garden.

The arrangements are marvelous.

Ah.

Might I hazard

an alternative suggestion?

? Waltz

Celia!

- Is something the matter?

- Celia!

Where is my daughter, you beast?

I was just attending to my costume.

A little of Lord Radley's very fine

Burgundy was spilt on my shirt cuff.

Oh. Oh...

Mr. Gray, I...

- Lord Henry gave me to understand...

- A mistake.

Nobody at all need know.

You're too kind, Mr. Gray.

- Thank you.

- It must be difficult,

a party like this.

Seeing your daughter come of age.

Makes you long for your own youth.

I...

Madam, forgive me but...

.. you are exquisite.

Oh, Mr. Gray.

This is most improper.

Ooh...

Ah!

Oh!

Now, where were we?

What are you grinning about, Gray?

I think Harry's just lost a wager.

Well, come on, out with it.

We're all gambling men here.

Just a little round of double or nothing.

Of course, a good gambler

understands that there are limits.

There are no limits.

Have a wonderful birthday, Dorian!

Dorian.

This crush is your finest yet.

One has to do something

to null the pain of age.

Do tell my husband

not to be so disagreeable.

But I always agree with him.

Congratulations, Basil.

I hear you have a new exhibition.

Yes, yes, in Paris.

Yes, in fact, I wanted

to ask a question of you, Dorian.

Id like to make your portrait

my principal piece.

Oh, yes, that picture.

Absolutely wonderful.

- Whatever became of it?

- I haven't seen it myself in months.

- He's very protective of it, aren't you?

- Indeed I am.

Im very sorry, Basil,

but it's just too precious.

I won't have it out of the house.

I beg your pardon.

Did you want me?

That picture is my finest work

and it'd be greatly appreciated...

The greatest gift that anyone

could ever have given.

In fact...

In fact, I wish that

I could tell you just how great.

But then it isn't so unreasonable

to borrow it back a little while.

Im not sure that Ive ever...

.. fully expressed my gratitude.

I hardly think...

I have the key to your heart.

Don't touch that ever!

Dorian!

He's young.

But he was never cruel

till he met you.

That's mine.

Oh, it's you.

- I thought you'd gone home.

- I just needed a walk.

I was just about to go to bed.

Everyone's left.

Im here to see you, not them.

Really?

Wait, wait.

I don't know where to begin.

How ominous.

- You terrified that poor boy tonight.

- He seemed to recover.

Is that what you tell yourself

about Celia Radley?

Look, Im sorry about her misfortune.

But do you really believe that Im to blame?

When I look at you,

I find it impossible to imagine.

But I know you're treating people poorly.

Even me,

when I ask you the small favor

that you loan me my own picture...

- Is that what this is about?

- No, it's about a good deal more!

Dorian...

What happened

to the Dorian Gray I painted?

You just don't understand.

I will always...

be that Dorian.

Can I trust you, Basil?

Would you like to see

why you can never exhibit that picture?

What's the matter?

Don't you recognize me?

What have you...?

That thing...

It isn't what...

Together, we've created

something beautiful.

Its a miracle.

Look at me.

Look at me.

Because of your painting...

- Its not...

- .. this will never age.

Will never scar.

Can you even imagine

being able to do anything you please...

.. and live out every whim and impulse

while the world just sees you gleam?

This isn't you.

I know this isn't you. We can stop it!

Basil, please, don't.

Don't you see

that this must be destroyed?

Dorian, I want to help you.

We'll find a priest or a spirit-worker.

There's good in your heart. Ive seen it.

You're not this...

this devil!

Im a god.

Basil.

Basil!

Good evening.

Need some help, sir?

How kind.

All right.

Mind how you go, sir.

On you go.

Good day, Lady Victoria.

I was about to take Harry for lunch at Scott's.

Why don't you join us?

Oh, Dorian. You haven't heard.

They've found Basil's body in the river.

Thou art slave to Fate,

Chance, kings and desperate men,

And dost with poyson, warre

and sicknesse dwell,

And poppies or charmes

can make us sleepe as well,

And better than thy stroake.

Why swell'st thou then?

One short sleepe past,

we wake eternally.

And death shall be no more.

Death, thou shalt die.

Farewell, dear Basil.

I spoke to the police again this morning.

And have the buffoons managed

to make a single inch of progress?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes