Lolita

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Humbert:

She was "Lo", plain "Lo" in the morning...

standing four-feet-ten in one sock.

She was "Lola" in slacks, she was "Dolly" at school...

she was "Dolores" on the dotted line.

In my arms she was always...

Lolita.

Light of my life...

fire of my loins.

My sin... my soul.

Lolita...

But there might have been no Lolita at all...

had I not first met Annabel.

We were both fourteen.

Whatever happens to a boy during the summer he's fourteen...

can mark him for life.

That hotel you see, the Merano, that belonged to us.

She wanted to be a nurse.

I wanted to be a spy.

All at once, we were madly, hopelessly in love.

Four months later, she died of typhus.

The shock of her death froze something in me.

The child I loved was gone.

But I kept looking for her.

Long after I'd left my own childhood behind.

The poison was in the wound, you see...

and the wound wouldn't heal.

I probably should have joined the priesthood.

Instead, I accepted a teaching post at Beardsley College in America.

I had a summer free before the fall semester...

so I thought I'd finish the textbook I was working on.

A survey of French literature for American students.

I took my advance and went to live at the house

of some old friends of my late uncle's, the McCoos...

in the New England town of Ramsdale.

But on arriving, I found that it was no longer there.

(spokes chattering)

Humbert:

However, a friend of Mr. McCoo's wife...

a widow, Mrs. Charlotte Haze, agreed to accommodate me.

(barking)

(tires screeching)

Louise:

Goddamn dog!

(barking)

Louise:

One minute, something's burning.

Lord have mercy... Mrs. Haze'll be down in one.

(annoyed muttering)

Charlotte:

Is that Professor Humbert, Louise? Tell him I'll be down in one.

Louise:

She’ll be down in one.

Charlotte:

M’sieur Humbert.

Humbert:

Uh, yes...

Mrs. Haze, is it?

Charlotte:

Charlotte.

I am so pleased to make your acquaintance.

Frank McCoo told me all about your scholarly pursuits.

I myself just cherish the French tongue.

Humbert:

Um... I wonder, could I?

Charlotte:

Come in.

Harold and I, the late Mr. Haze, we simply adored Mexico.

The whole idea of a culture that sophisticated...

and we think of them as primitive.

I mean, look at us.

Humbert:

Indeed, yes.

Charlotte:

Upstairs... I and Lo have our rooms just there...

and this is your room.

Space for a desk, anything you want.

And at 20 dollars a month, you can't beat the price.

And here's the bathroom... bit of a mess.

And this is the kitchen.

Now if you have any special food needs, you just say.

I don't know if Ramsdale can provide foie gras, like you're used to.

Humbert:

What's that?

Charlotte:

A... timetable, for when I... I was hoping I wouldn't have to...

but I think I've got to go all the way back to New York.

Ah, I'm afraid you're not too favourably impressed.

No, it's... there's a Baudelaire conference...

This is not a neat household, I confess...

but I assure you you would be very comfortable here.

Very comfortable indeed.

Now, don't say no...

until you've seen the piazza.

Come.

Well, I call it the piazza.

It's so much work to keep it healthy and green.

A life's work.

That's my Lo.

And these are my :.

I love :
.

Lily's a nice name, don't you think?

Humbert:

Beautiful.

Charlotte:

Beautiful.

Humbert:

How much did you say the room was?

A normal man, given a group photograph of schoolgirls...

and asked to point out the loveliest one...

will not necessarily choose the nymphet among them.

You have to be an artist.

A madman, full of shame and melancholy, and despair...

in order to recognize the little deadly demon among the others.

She stands... unrecognized by them...

unconscious herself of her fantastic power.

Mary Rose:

See you later, alligator.

Dolores:

After awhile, crocodile.

Mary Rose:

Real soon, Daniel Boone.

Dolores:

Get f***ed, Daffy Duck.

(laughter)

(Lena Horne sings "Stormy Weather")

Dolores:

You woke me up.

Humbert:

Sorry.

(radio off)

Humbert:

I'll stop.

Charlotte:

Dolores, have you made your bed?

Dolores:

No, I have not made my bed.

Charlotte:

I asked you to make your bed. Didn't I?

Dolores:

No, you asked me if I'd made my bed.

Charlotte:

Make your bed.

Now! (slams door)

Humbert:

I longed for some terrific disaster.

Earthguake, spectacular explosion.

Charlotte:

Make your bed!

Humbert:

And Mother instantly eliminated.

Along with everybody else for miles around.

Lolita, in my arms.

Dolores:

I'm sleepy today.

Humbert:

Me, too.

Dolores:

You been havin' trouble sleeping?

Humbert:

You can't imagine.

Dolores:

Am I getting a zit?

Humbert:

What?

Dolores:

Do you see a pimple on my chin?

Humbert:

You look absolutely perfect to me.

Charlotte:

Humbert?

Humbert...

is she keeping you up?

Humbert:

I beg your pardon?

No...

no... no, I'm...

No.

Charlotte:

It was probably just a 24-hour bug.

Exactly. He was looking forward to meeting you...

Dolores:

Anybody seen my other sneaker?

(ringing)

Dolores:

Your breakfast, Professor Humbert.

5Don't tell Mother, but I ate all your bacon.

Charlotte:

Dolores, that was Mrs. Farlow.

Dolores:

So?

Charlotte:

So, Roz has a temperature and she can't go to Hourglass Lake.

Dolores:

Oh, yeah?

Charlotte:

Do not use that tone with me.

Are you ready for church?

Dolores:

I'm not going to that disgusting church.

Charlotte:

Young lady... No picnic, no church.

That is fine with me. It is your conscience.

And I want your room spic and span by the time I get home.

Wash your hair, young lady.

Dolores:

I did wash it.

Charlotte:

When?

Dolores

Couple months ago.

(groaning)

(door slams)

Dolores:

I'm sweet on you.

I could be a dancer.

That's a major option.

'Cause I do have a natural grace.

You know, a kind of sad beauty.

Sort of "sad", is right.

Humbert:

I'd like to see you dance sometime.

Charlotte:

Little girls always want to be ballerinas, don't they?

I know I did.

But I was, how shall I put it... a tad too plump?

Is that the right word?

Humbert:

Yes.

Charlotte:

I'll get more wine.

Dolores:

Make her take us to Hourglass Lake tomorrow.

Humbert:

Me?

Dolores:

Mmm-hmm.

She'll do anything you say. She's getting a thing about you.

Charlotte:

Whisper, whisper...

what are you two so cozy about?

Humbert:

Did I ever tell you both that...

I was once a...

That I was once a...

Uh...

that I was once a cook in the North Pole?

Dolores:

A cook?

Humbert:

Well, not actually a cook.

I opened a few cans.

It was a weather expedition.

And I shot a polar bear.

Charlotte:

No!

Humbert:

Well, I didn't hit it, but...

Dolores:

Why did you shoot a polar bear? That's a lousy thing to do.

Humbert:

Because I found it... with its face, listen to this...

in the ice cream mixer.

I couldn't possibly let that pass, because we lived on ice cream.

Charlotte:

You are out of your gourd, Humbie.

Will you stop fidgeting with the doll?

And now we all think that Lo should go to bed.

Lo...

Dolores:

What do you mean "we", paleface?

Humbert:

So, anyway, as I was saying, there I was...

with my white polar bear gun...

to blend in, you know?

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