01x08 - Evidence of a Crime

[bunniefuu]

What's happened?

The horses bolted.
The carriage ran away.

Yes, I remember.
My stepmother... Mme. Danglars.

Both ladies are unhurt.
A little shaken perhaps, nothing worse.

Thank heaven.

You were the only one to suffer injury.
You hurt your head when it happened.

- Who are you?
- Maximilian Morrel.

I am Valentine de Villefort.

Thank you, monsieur,
for your kind attention.

I am quite recovered now.

You must rest a while longer,
mademoiselle.

Are you a doctor?

That's true, I'm not a physician

but my profession does demand
a certain knowledge of medicine.

I still do not know where I am.

The house
of the Count of Monte Cristo.

The accident happened
at his very door.

How strange.

Now you must not excite
yourself, mademoiselle.

Shut your eyes
and try to sleep.

Mlle. Valentine.

More champagne, madame?

Delicious.
I feel quite revived.

It was as if the man
had been posted there

- for the sole purpose of saving us.
- It was providential.

Tell me who's
that enormous black fellow?

Ari, madame.
The count's Nubian mute.

But I don't understand why
was he in that precise spot

at that precise moment
armed with a lasso.

Ari was a great hunter
in his own land.

He could k*ll buffalo
and lion with a lasso.

Now he's afraid
of losing his skill.

When he's not about his duties
the master allows him to practice.

In the avenue outside
he's got all the space he needs.

Happily he was there
when your carriage came by.

Happily indeed. It almost
makes me believe in miracles.

What heavens, Bertuccio?
What on earth is the matter with you?

- That woman!
- What woman, Bertuccio?

- The dark one in the green gown!
- Mme. Danglars?

Yes! It's she, Excellency!
I've recognized her instantly!

It's marvelous how little
she's changed.

You are trying to tell me,
Bertuccio, that Mme. Danglars

is this mysterious lady you saw
in the garden at Auteuil?

- I swear it, Excellency!
- But I know it, Bertuccio!

Mme. Danglars is the mother
of your Benedetto.

But did you know
that de Villefort was the father?

Ladies, have you recovered
from your ordeal?

As if we'd woken from
some dreadful dream.

But how is Valentine,
poor child? Is it serious?

She is suffering from
a mild concussion.

There are no complications,
and she is being very well cared for.

You make light of my fears?

I can assure you, madame,
that she has no intention of dying.

And my wicked,
treacherous horses?

Ari has examined them, and they are
none the worse for their experience.

I was so proud of them.

Now my husband will never
permit me to use them again.

I think he will.

I have taken the liberty of giving
your coachman a prescription.

A simple drug much used by
the Tartars for taming wild stallions.

Two or three drops daily

and your dappled grays
will become quite tractable

without losing their natural
spirits and vivacity.

My dear Count,
you'll never cease to surprise us.

I think you must be a magician.

Only in some respects, madame.

When it comes to entering
the society of your capital

I shall need every guidance.

It has been suggested that you might
be the very person to assist me.

However, even if you were
prepared to be so generous

I certainly could not solicit your advice
without first meeting your husband.

That is easily arranged.

I shall send Mr. de Villefort
to fetch my stepdaughter

when she sufficiently recovered.

Mr. de Villefort, Excellency.

Monsieur, the signal service
which you this morning

rendered my wife and daughter.

Allow me, therefore,
to express my gratitude.

If the Procureur du Roi thinks that
the simple expression of his thanks

for having saved his daughter's life
confer upon me some sort of honor,

I will not dispute it.

I would merely remark
that this honour, however estimable,

is unequal to the keen satisfaction
that this moment gives me.

Sir, you seem
geographically engaged.

It is a rich study for you,
who, as I hear,

have visited most
parts of the globe.

Yes, sir. I have sought to make
on the human race, taken in the mass,

what you practice every day
upon the individual,

a psychological study.

I have believed it is much easier
to descend from the whole to a part

than to ascend
from a part to the whole.

Sit down, sir, I beg of you.

You philosophize.

Well, sir, if I, like you,
had nothing else to do,

I would seek a more
amusing occupation.

Why, sir, in truth,
man is but an ugly caterpillar

for him who was studying
him under a solar microscope.

But you said, I think,
that I have nothing else to do.

Now, really, sir,
let me ask you, have you?

And do you believe
that you'd do anything?

Or to put it in plain terms,
do you really think

that what you have to do
deserves to be called anything?

Sir, you are a stranger
to this country, and I believe

a portion of your life has been
spent in the Orient.

Perhaps you are not aware
how human justice,

so expedient
in barbarous countries,

with us takes a prudent
and well-studied course.

Yes I am, sir.

Yes I am.
I know all that.

For it is with the justice of all countries
especially that I have occupied myself,

and I must say that it is with
the justice of primitive nations,

that is the law of retaliation,
that I have most frequently found

to be in accordance
with the law of God.

If this law were adopted it would
greatly simplify our legal code.

And as you say we magistrates would
find ourselves with not much to do.

It may come to that in time.

In the meantime
our laws are in full force.

The moment you become
an inhabitant of France

you become subjected
to the laws of France.

I know it sir.

And when I visit a country,

I make it my business to make
a study by all possible means

of the men from whom I have
anything to hope or to fear,

so that in the end I know them as well,
if not better, than they know themselves.

So then it comes to the point
that the Procureur du Roi

of whichever country I may visit,
whoever he may be,

would most assuredly
be more imbalanced than I.

You mean, that human nature being weak,
every man has his faults.

- Faults or crimes?
- And you alone are perfect.

Not perfect.

Impenetrable.

There is no greater mystery
in the world than the mind of a man.

Now you, as Procureur du Roi,
may prove a m*rder*r's guilt.

In the process you will reveal
the motive of his crime.

His head will be cut off
and justice will have been done.

That is what my function demands
of me, that justice be done.

Yes, no more than that.

- And what more prey do you ask?
- Nothing of the Procureur du Roi.

Now let us suppose
that your m*rder is penniless

and k*lled for money
because he was hungry.

Well there are plenty of penniless
hungry people in the world

but they don't all become murderers.

We can be thankful for
small mercies. At least I can.

But I am not clear of the precise
nature of the point you wish to make.

I am asking myself

what makes this man
different from his fellows?

What fault in the mechanism
of his brain prompts him to a deed

from which his fellows
would shrink?

The answer is surely simple,
moral turpitude.

The fellow is a natural born rogue.

No, monsieur,
that answer is far too facile.

Who amongst us has not been guilty
at some time in his life of some

secret act of which
he remains forever ashamed?

Truly, the mind of man
is a mysterious and dark continent.

And you would seek
to lay this mystery there.

You are in danger
of falling into grave error.

You confuse man's mind
with his soul.

I do not believe
that they are separable.

Upon my word,
you sacrifice greatly to pride.

When a man would play god,
the devil stands at his elbow.

You're detecting in me
the sin of pride?

If I am mistaken,
I demand your apology.

But yes, there was, in the manner
of your pronouncement,

or so it seemed to my ears,
a note of pride.

Did I make any pronouncement?

I thought that I'd merely
made an expression.

Then I judged you, too quickly.

In you, Mr. le Comte,
I perceive a superior being,

endowed with curious perception,
and remarkable powers of intelligence.

These are qualities of greatness.
I salute them gladly.

I would only add this.

You may be above others,
but above you there is God.

Above us all, monsieur,
there is God.

I have my pride for men,
that's true.

But I lay aside my pride before God,
who has taken me from nothing,

to make me what I am.

Upon my word I've been
so elevated by our conversation

I have not noticed the time.

Conduct Mr. de Villefort
to his daughter.

At once, Excellency.

Monsieur, I look forward to meeting
and talking with you again.

Thank you, Mr. de Villefort.

I look forward
to our next meeting.

My dear Maximilian,
I must confess,

I'd feel somewhat weak
in the knees myself

if I had to ask old Villefort
for his daughter's hand.

And you have everything.
Title, riches, distinguished parents.

- And an intended bride.
- Mlle. Danglars.

You have yet to meet Eugénie.

Why do you speak thus?
You must love her.

Do I?

No, I guess love doesn't come
into our relationship.

You cannot possibly marry her.

My dear Maximilien,
how refreshing you are.

I didn't know such innocence
still existed in Paris.

The plain truth of the matter

is my father and Baron
Danglarsr are old friends.

They want this bond
between our two families.

Albert, I have heard
that Mme. Eugénie

is both handsome and talented!

She sings like a bird,
moves like a goddess,

and scares me to death.

My poor friend...

Well, if this is so, then you cannot
possibly persevere in your suit.

I'm inclined to agree.

But these arrangements,
made between two men

like my father and Baron Danglars,
are not easily overturned.

Though I must confess,
I'm much torn in my mind.

And you must reach a decision.

With help, so I shall.

I intend to take
the best advice in Paris.

So? And where
are you going to find that?

There is only one man to ask.

Monte Cristo!
And you know what?

That is precisely
what you should do also.

- I?
- That's it.

He shall have both of us.

Goodbye, Mr Thomson,
and thank you.

No one, to my knowledge,

has ever challenged
the solvency of Baron Danglars.

It is a fact, however, that as a result
of the political situation,

his investments have
suffered some damaging blows.

Not unnaturally he's been at pains
to disguise their true nature,

but they must have been
very considerable.

No doubt the setback
is only temporary

but since you have a letter
of unlimited credit with him

I felt it my bounden
duty to warn you.

Should he invite you to speculate
in some plausible enterprise,

the chairing of doing so,
as things stand at the present time,

I don't believe he could
meet another major setback.

Should that occur,
I think we should see the empire

of Baron Danglars
crumble into ruin.

Thank you. Mr. Thomson.

They're here.

- Who are here, Bertuccio?
- Benedetto and Cavalcanti.

Capital! I scarcely
expected them so soon!

I did.

I'll be shutting them into
the servants' quarters!

But, my dear Bertuccio,

Cavalcanti is one of the most
ancient names in Italy,

and Benedetto's veins are bursting
with noble French blood.

I invite them to my house
and you send them to the kitchen?

Cavalcanti is a penniless
old rogue.

Benedetto, a foundling who robbed
his foster parents of their life savings.

As a father-and-son partnership,

they've committed enough crimes
to go to the gallows for years.

You make them sound a very
promising pair. Send them in.

Good evening, gentlemen.

It was very courteous of you

to make the journey from Rome
with such expedition.

Mr. le Comte de Monte Cristo,

since both money
and the means of convenience

were lavishly provided,
there was nothing to hinder us.

Still, you could have spent
the money and left my relays to rot.

Your letters, monsieur,

hinted at even greater benefits
awaiting us in Paris.

So there shall be, provided you perform
to the letter what I require of you.

That, monsieur, must depend
upon the nature of your requirements.

Quite not. You will accept
my proposals unconditionally

or you will both go to prison
for a good many years.

I told you it was a trap.

But my dear sirs,
you are most welcome.

It is le Marquis Cavalcanti?

Le Marquis Cavalcanti...
Yes, I really am he.

Ex-major in the Austrian army.

- Was I a major?
- Yes, you were a major.

But you have an income
of half a million a year.

- Half a million, is it?
- Yes.

I'll be at half a million then.
I had no idea it was so much.

And I have the honor
of addressing

Mr. le Vicomte Andrea Cavalcanti,
your adored son.

Yes.

Please sit down, gentlemen.

What on earth am I thinking
of keeping you standing?

Please don't mention it.

The service you will perform for me
is not arduous nor even dangerous,

provided you obey
absolutely what I tell you.

You will live within the limits
of almost unlimited wealth.

I cannot imagine
that the experience

will be in the slightest
degree disagreeable.

If what you say is true,
Mr. le Comte,

you have only to command us.

Yes, I am aware of that.

Gentlemen, from this moment,
you are Major Cavalcanti,

Italian aristocrat and millionaire,

and you, Benedetto, are his son,
le Vicomte Andrea Cavalcanti.

Your place of residence will be
my country house at Auteuil.

Tomorrow morning,
Major Cavalcanti,

together with a letter of reference
which I shall give you,

you will open an account at
the banking house of Baron Danglars.

From this account you will draw
what money you need for yourself,

and you will also make an allowance
for your dear son.

The amount of the allowance
will be , livres per year.

Per year?

You will live in a style
becoming your rank and station,

and since you are rich, you will dress
simply and without pretension.

Gentlemen,
do you understand me?

This cannot be
all you require of us.

If it were, I would scarcely have gone
to the trouble and expense.

You will enjoy the life
that I have described,

which you will at all times
be entirely at my disposal.

And you will be ready
day and night

to obey any instruction
which I may give you.

Good night, gentlemen.

Did you find it amusing,
Mr. le Baron?

Delightful, quite delightful.

And you, madame?

My dear Count,
I've never seen its equal.

It was quite disturbing.

I thought she was
exquisitely beautiful.

What was your impression,
mademoiselle?

I agree with Mme. de Villefort.
The girl was beautiful.

Her dance was not.

- You didn't like it?
- I detested it.

Why?

Because, Vicomte, for me
it symbolized the degradation of my sex.

I don't understand.

I'm not criticizing
her skill and artistry.

But the spirit
which informed her dance!

Come, Eugénie,
whatever you say!

No, this is most interesting.
Pray continue, mademoiselle!

Every movement of her body
acknowledged the existence

of a world in which
man is the master!

That is the Oriental attitude,
is it not, Mr. le Comte?

- Most certainly!
- It is not one to which I subscribe.

Because this is France.

And in France, mademoiselle, man
is the adoring sl*ve of lovely women!

Listen to him!
What romantic nonsense, Vicomte.

You humiliate us at every turn

and then try to hide the fact
by employing ridiculous phrases like that.

I've never humiliated a woman in my life.
I'd rather cut off my right hand first.

Another empty phrase.

You know perfectly well
you would do nothing so foolish.

We are shackled by conventions
imposed by men for their convenience.

Is a woman permitted
to marry the man she loves?

Or must she marry
the man her father chooses?

For shame, Eugénie.
Remember where you are.

Come, Mr. le Baron,
you must not be so severe.

I was most impressed
by what your daughter had to say.

Impressed?

Good heavens, Count. If all her sex
began thinking as she does...

I congratulate you,
Mlle. Eugénie.

You cannot mean
that you agree with me.

But why not?

You have just expressed
a most profound truth.

The problem is,
what are you going to do about it?

Nothing.

I scandalize my friends
by saying what I think,

but I'm too much of a coward
to act on my beliefs.

You have had the courage
to express them.

This is already
a very great deal.

How long do you propose
remaining in Paris, monsieur?

Perhaps six months.

If the life suits my son,
he may stay longer.

You should find him
a French wife, monsieur.

Nothing would
please me more, madame.

I have the greatest admiration
for French women.

I'm beginning to suspect
that Andrea shares my views.

Have you found yourself
a place of residence yet?

My son and I are most fortunate.
Mr. le Comte de Monte Cristo

has very graciously put his country
residence at Auteuil at our disposal.

Auteuil?

I didn't know you had a house
in Auteuil, monsieur.

I have only recently
acquired it, madame.

But whereabouts, Mr. le Comte?

- , Rue de La Fontaine.
- Extraordinary.

What is extraordinary,
Monsieur de Villefort?

That house belonged
to my father-in-law,

the Marquis de Saint-Méran.

That indeed
is a very great coincidence.

Naturally, my steward conducted
the transaction for the lease,

but I'm almost
sure that he told me

that the house had been empty
for many years.

Yes. The Marquis
lived and d*ed in Marseille.

He seldom
made the journey to Paris.

I doubt if the house
has been occupied for the last years.

The house has a sudden
curiosity for me.

A crime was committed there.

- A crime?
- Beware, monsieur.

You are in the presence
of the Procurer du Roi.

Then actually this is
the very moment to declare it.

What sort of crime?

My gardeners were digging
over the soil to lay a new lawn

and they came across the skeleton
of a newly born child.

A newly born child?
Infanticide is a serious matter.

How can you know
it was infanticide?

It is surely m*rder
to bury a child alive, monsieur.

You cannot possibly say
that it was buried alive.

Then why bury it in a garden
if it were dead?

No, the cemetery is the proper place.

The count is right,
it was certainly m*rder.

Stop!
I can't bear it.

What is done to infanticides
in this country?

Their heads are cut off.

Is that not right,
Mr. de Villefort?

Yes, you are right.

You are right.