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.

lf I'm going to keep on visiting you,

I'll have to send you 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 Gray,

and I shall give it to him.

I want to meet

this extraordinary young man.

I think we shall be friends.

I always 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 in the world.

-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 her

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, Basil.

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.

That depends on

how you sit this afternoon.

But I thought the picture

was going to be finished 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, Mr. Gray.

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 today.

Would you think it rude of me

if I asked you to go away?

Am I to go, Mr. Gray?

Stay and tell me why

I should not go in for philanthropy.

You don't really mind,

do you, Basil?

You've often 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?

Because you have

the most marvelous youth,

and youth is the one thing

worth having.

I don't feel that,

Lord Henry.

No, 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.

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