The Picture of Dorian Gray: chapter quizzes with answers

C. Form is matched with the musician. The actor's craft comes in the next sentence, as the type from the point of view of feeling.

“From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art of the musician.”

“From the point of view of feeling, the actor’s craft is the type.”

B. Basil says Dorian treats his soul like a flower for his coat, then rephrases it twice: a bit of decoration, an ornament for a summer's day.

“Then I feel, Harry, that I have given away my whole soul to some one who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat, a bit of decoration to charm his vanity, an ornament for a summer’s day.”

D. Right after the remark about names, Basil says he never tells his people where he is going when he leaves town, or he would lose all his pleasure. Both habits hide ordinary things to make them romantic.

“When I leave town now I never tell my people where I am going. If I did, I would lose all my pleasure.”

A. He says he has promised to meet a man at the Orleans, and Basil laughs that there will be no difficulty about that. White's comes later, as the club where Harry was to dine that evening.

“I have promised to meet a man at the Orleans.”

B. He had promised to go with her to a club in Whitechapel the Tuesday before and play duets, and forgot. Lord Henry jokes that the audience probably thought it was a duet anyway.

“I promised to go to a club in Whitechapel with her last Tuesday, and I really forgot all about it.”

D. The narrator says we turn to trivial things when matters of high import frighten us or a new emotion has no words yet. Lord Henry's speech on youth has just shaken Dorian, so the bee is a way of not facing it.

“He watched it with that strange interest in trivial things that we try to develop when things of high import make us afraid,”

A. Fermor calls Kelso a mean dog and gives the proof: the Queen asked him about the noble who argued with cabmen about their fares, and Fermor did not dare show his face at Court for a month.

“The Queen used to ask me about the English noble who was always quarrelling with the cabmen about their fares.”

C. His excuse is that the one advantage of owning coal is being able to afford the decency of a wood fire on his own hearth. The narrator presents it as the logic of a man devoted to doing nothing.

“excusing himself for this taint of industry on the ground that the one advantage of having coal was that it enabled a gentleman to afford the decency of burning wood on his own hearth.”

D. The thing was hushed up officially, but the story got about that Kelso had paid a Belgian to provoke the duel. Eating alone at his club is how London punished him; Fermor tells it as part of the ugly story, not as grief.

“They said Kelso got some rascally adventurer, some Belgian brute, to insult his son-in-law in public—paid him, sir, to do it, paid him—and that the fellow spitted his man as if he had been a pigeon.”

“The thing was hushed up, but, egad, Kelso ate his chop alone at the club for some time afterwards.”

A. She likes Wagner because it is loud enough to cover conversation, which she calls a great advantage. Dorian disagrees: he never talks during good music.

“It is so loud that one can talk the whole time without other people hearing what one says.”

C. Dorian reports that the manager blamed his five bankruptcies on “The Bard” and thought it a distinction. Lord Henry agrees that being ruined by poetry is an honor.

“He told me once, with an air of pride, that his five bankruptcies were entirely due to ‘The Bard,’ as he insisted on calling him.”

B. He was furious at the offer and answered as if the girl were Juliet herself, so meeting her was out of the question. He only went behind the scenes on the third night.

“offered to take me behind the scenes and introduce me to her.”

“I was furious with him, and told him that Juliet had been dead for hundreds of years and that her body was lying in a marble tomb in Verona.”

A. They hail an omnibus at the Marble Arch, which leaves them near their home in the Euston Road. The Achilles Statue is where Sibyl turned round to scold Jim a little earlier.

“At the Marble Arch they hailed an omnibus, which left them close to their shabby home in the Euston Road.”

C. In her daydream he leaves the vessel at Melbourne, says goodbye to the captain and goes straight to the gold-fields, before she changes her mind and makes him a sheep-farmer.

“He was to leave the vessel at Melbourne, bid a polite good-bye to the captain, and go off at once to the gold-fields.”

B. Mrs. Vane judges the scene as an actress would: it was not led up to, it was crude, like a bad rehearsal. Her sigh is one of relief, and she is almost disappointed.

“She heaved a deep sigh. It was a sigh of relief.”

“The situation had not been gradually led up to. It was crude. It reminded her of a bad rehearsal.”

D. Dorian says he dined at the little Italian restaurant in Rupert Street that Lord Henry had shown him, then went down to the theater at eight.

“After I left you yesterday evening, Harry, I dressed, had some dinner at that little Italian restaurant in Rupert Street you introduced me to, and went down at eight o’clock to the theatre.”

C. The waiter has set a fire-breathing silver dragon on the table, and Dorian lights up from it while telling Harry he talks nonsense.

““What nonsense you talk, Harry!” cried the lad, taking a light from a fire-breathing silver dragon that the waiter had placed on the table.”

A. Lord Henry calls women wonderfully practical: men forget to mention marriage and women always remind them. Her “not worthy to be your wife” is, in his reading, the first mention of the word.

““Women are wonderfully practical,” murmured Lord Henry, “much more practical than we are. In situations of that kind we often forget to say anything about marriage, and they always remind us.””

D. The two friends wait for the balcony scene of the second act, the true test of a Juliet. When the act ends in hisses, Lord Henry puts on his coat, and he and Basil leave Dorian to watch the rest alone.

“When the second act was over, there came a storm of hisses, and Lord Henry got up from his chair and put on his coat.”

A. The carter offers him cherries and refuses payment. The narrator says they were picked at midnight and the coldness of the moon had entered into them.

“A white-smocked carter offered him some cherries.”

“He thanked him, wondered why he refused to accept any money for them, and began to eat them listlessly.”

B. He tells himself the night left phantoms behind and that the tiny scarlet speck that makes men mad had fallen on his brain. The next sentences undo the excuse: the picture is still watching him.

“Suddenly there had fallen upon his brain that tiny scarlet speck that makes men mad. The picture had not changed. It was folly to think so.”

D. The bill is for a silver Louis-Quinze toilet-set. His guardians are old-fashioned people who do not see that unnecessary things are now our only necessities.

“There was a rather heavy bill for a chased silver Louis-Quinze toilet-set that he had not yet had the courage to send on to his guardians,”

A. He wore nothing but violets for a season. The romance died in the end, killed, he thinks, by the lady's offer to sacrifice the whole world for him.

“I once wore nothing but violets all through one season, as a form of artistic mourning for a romance that would not die.”

C. Poppies give opium and sleep, so they stand for oblivion. Lord Henry answers that there is no need, since life has always poppies in her hands: we forget anyway.

““I must sow poppies in my garden,” sighed Dorian.”

““There is no necessity,” rejoined his companion. “Life has always poppies in her hands.”

D. Dorian places the story “when we were down at Marlow together.” He says he is not like that young man, though he loves beautiful things one can touch.

“Well, I am not like that young man you told me of when we were down at Marlow together, the young man who used to say that yellow satin could console one for all the miseries of life.”

A. Dorian says the servant only arranges his flowers and that he moved the screen himself because the light was too strong. Basil answers that it is an admirable place for the picture.

“No; I did it myself. The light was too strong on the portrait.”

C. The philanthropist was crushed with disappointment once his grievance was gone. Dorian compares him to Basil, who came to console and is furious to find nothing to console.

“You come down here to console me. That is charming of you. You find me consoled, and you are furious. How like a sympathetic person!”

“Finally he succeeded, and nothing could exceed his disappointment.”

B. The narrator calls Lady Radley a pretty professional invalid who had spent the preceding winter in Cairo. The table is of dark perfumed wood crusted with nacre.

“a present from Lady Radley, his guardian’s wife, a pretty professional invalid, who had spent the preceding winter in Cairo,”

C. The St. James's Gazette reports an inquest at the Bell Tavern, Hoxton Road, before the district coroner. The Royal Theatre, Holborn, is only where Sibyl had been engaged.

“An inquest was held this morning at the Bell Tavern, Hoxton Road, by Mr. Danby, the District Coroner, on the body of Sibyl Vane, a young actress recently engaged at the Royal Theatre, Holborn.”

A. Nobody set the screen back, so a blank space is visible on the wall where the picture hung. Dorian only wonders whether Victor met the men in the hall.

“The screen had not been set back, and a blank space was visible on the wall.”

B. The hero lost his beauty early and came to dread mirrors, polished metal and still water. Dorian never had cause to, and reads that part of the book with an almost cruel joy.

“He never knew—never, indeed, had any cause to know—that somewhat grotesque dread of mirrors, and polished metal surfaces, and still water which came upon the young Parisian so early in his life,”

D. In the list, frankincense makes one mystical, ambergris stirs the passions, musk troubles the brain, and violets wake the memory of dead romances.

“wondering what there was in frankincense that made one mystical, and in ambergris that stirred one’s passions, and in violets that woke the memory of dead romances, and in musk that troubled the brain,”

C. He hated being separated from the picture and feared that someone would get into the room while he was away, bars or no bars. The same fear sends him rushing back to town from his house in Nottinghamshire.

“He hated to be separated from the picture that was such a part of his life, and was also afraid that during his absence some one might gain access to the room, in spite of the elaborate bars that he had caused to be placed upon the door.”

C. Dorian believes the Frenchman married Lady Radley's maid and established her in Paris as an English dressmaker. He adds that he never liked the man but had nothing to complain of.

“I believe he married Lady Radley’s maid, and has established her in Paris as an English dressmaker.”

B. The miniatures Dorian lent to the Dudley started the conversation. Staveley then said Dorian might have artistic tastes but was a man no pure-minded girl should know.

“Your name happened to come up in conversation, in connection with the miniatures you have lent to the exhibition at the Dudley.”

A. The servant let Basil out and went to bed, so as far as the household knows Basil left for his train. That is what Francis repeats in Chapter 13.

“Finally I took pity on your tired servant and told him to go to bed, as he let me out.”

C. Basil says the room is damp, mildew has got into the canvas, and his paints had some mineral poison in them. He insists the thing is impossible, though he recognizes his own brushwork and frame.

“The room is damp. Mildew has got into the canvas. The paints I used had some wretched mineral poison in them.”

B. He had brought it up some days earlier to cut a piece of cord and forgotten to take it away, so nothing was planned before he saw it glimmer.

“It was a knife that he had brought up, some days before, to cut a piece of cord, and had forgotten to take away with him.”

A. He hears the slow tread of the policeman and sees the flash of his bull's-eye lantern in the window, so he holds his breath until it passes before drawing back the latch.

“There he paused, hearing the slow heavy tread of the policeman on the pavement outside and seeing the flash of the bull’s-eye reflected in the window. He waited and held his breath.”

D. Dorian broods over the verses on the statue Gautier compares to a contralto voice, the “monstre charmant” of the Louvre, before the book falls from his hand.

“he began to brood over those verses which, drawing music from kiss-stained marble, tell of that curious statue that Gautier compares to a contralto voice,”

B. Music brought them together: they met at Lady Berkshire's on the night Rubinstein played and were then always seen together at the opera, for eighteen months.

“They had met at Lady Berkshire’s the night that Rubinstein played there,”

A. Campbell arrived calling him “Gray” and saying he had meant never to enter the house again. His use of the first name, in anger, shows the old intimacy is not quite dead, and Dorian seizes on it.

““I had intended never to enter your house again, Gray.”

““Ah! I was waiting for you to call me Dorian.””

D. She visits them every summer after she comes from Homburg, and complains that there has not been a scandal in their neighborhood since the time of Queen Elizabeth.

“Of course I go and stay with them every summer after I come from Homburg,”

B. Adolphe is the one who “invented the menu specially” for Dorian, so he must be her cook. Her husband was Narborough, the butler is unnamed, and her son-in-law is Mr. Chapman.

“Lady Narborough kept scolding him for what she called “an insult to poor Adolphe, who invented the menu specially for you,””

D. The narrator says she buried her husband properly in a marble mausoleum of her own design, married off her daughters to rich elderly men, and then gave herself to French fiction, French cookery and French esprit.

“having buried her husband properly in a marble mausoleum, which she had herself designed,”

D. One of the women laughs that he thinks he has red ants on him, and the old man whimpers in terror. It is one of the details that make the den real and squalid.

““He thinks he’s got red ants on him,” laughed one of them, as Dorian passed by.”

C. Adrian says Darlington will not act because his brother paid the bill at last, and that none of the chaps will speak to him now. Basil had raised Adrian's case in Chapter 12.

“Darlington is not going to do anything. My brother paid the bill at last.”

B. Adrian has just warned him that “that mad-cat” is sure to be at the place on the wharf, since this den will not have her now. Dorian's line answers that warning; he wants to go there anyway, and adds that the stuff is better.

““That mad-cat is sure to be there. They won’t have her in this place now.””

“Dorian shrugged his shoulders. “I am sick of women who love one. Women who hate one are much more interesting. Besides, the stuff is better.””

A. The duke is describing the newest Brazilian beetle in his collection. It fits the duchess's joke that Monmouth married her as the best specimen he could find of a modern butterfly.

“On a peach-coloured divan sat Lady Narborough, pretending to listen to the duke’s description of the last Brazilian beetle that he had added to his collection.”

C. The maid makes her hats, including the one she wore at Lady Hilstone's garden-party, out of nothing. Lord Henry adds that good reputations are made the same way.

““I daren’t, Mr. Gray. Why, she invents hats for me.”

B. “You use them for everything, except flight.” The wings she boasts of are the means of escape she will not use: she is flirting with Dorian, not getting away from him.

““I am not even singed. My wings are untouched.””

““You use them for everything, except flight.””

A. He lies on a heap of sacking in a coarse shirt and blue trousers, with a spotted handkerchief over his face and a candle in a bottle beside him.

“On a heap of sacking in the far corner was lying the dead body of a man dressed in a coarse shirt and a pair of blue trousers.”

B. Dorian greets her as “looking like Artemis in a tailor-made gown,” the huntress goddess, fitting for a shooting day.

“Ah! here is the duchess, looking like Artemis in a tailor-made gown.”

D. Strawberry leaves decorate a duke's coronet. Lord Henry says disillusion “came to you crowned,” and she will not part with “a petal”: she means her title and the marriage that brought it.

““It came to you crowned.””

““I am tired of strawberry leaves.””

A. Young Lord Poole, Bournemouth's eldest son, has already copied Dorian's neckties and begged to be introduced. When Harry adds that the boy reminds him of Dorian, Dorian says he hopes not.

“There is some one at White’s who wants immensely to know you—young Lord Poole, Bournemouth’s eldest son. He has already copied your neckties,”

C. It is a large, grey-plumaged Java parrot with a pink crest and tail, balancing on a bamboo perch, which sways when he touches it.

“Lord Henry strolled across the room and began to stroke the head of a curious Java parrot, a large, grey-plumaged bird with pink crest and tail, that was balancing itself upon a bamboo perch.”

D. He casts himself as Marsyas, the satyr who challenged Apollo at music and lost, and he goes on at once to speak of sorrows of his own and the tragedy of old age.

“It seems to me that you are the young Apollo and that I am Marsyas listening to you.”

D. He thinks of her in her cotton dresses and her large hats, and of her laugh like a thrush singing.

“And how pretty she had been in her cotton dresses and her large hats!”

C. The letter's last words are “The curves of your lips rewrite history.” Dorian repeats them to himself, then loathes his beauty and grinds the mirror under his heel.

““The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history.””

B. The narrator names one of them as Sir Henry Ashton's uncle. In Chapter 12, Basil had named Ashton as a friend of Dorian's who had to leave England with a tarnished name.

“One of them was Sir Henry Ashton’s uncle.”