All language subtitles for Alfred Hitchcock s07e13 The Silk Petticoat

Good evening.

I'm serving a sentence for slander.

Something I said about our sponsor, I
believe.

The warden thinks I'm making a tale for
my kite.

He's not terribly bright.

And now, while I make my escape, you
less fortunate must stay and face the

music.

Some of the names on tombstones are
really funny. Look at that.

Jeremiah Martin.

He's as dead as Martin, too.

If you weren't looking so grim, I think
I'd laugh outright.

Look at that one.

I didn't bring you here to see that.

I know you didn't. You're being very
mysterious.

Why did you bring me here?

I wanted you to see something else.

Flora.

Wife of...

Humphrey J.

Orford.

Died November 1793.

Age 19.

Your wife.

Humphrey, you never told me you'd been
married before.

She died 20 years ago.

But we're going to have our wedding in
this church. So close to her grave, it

seems. I'm sorry if it upsets you. But
the inscription.

She was your wife.

Why? didn't you have some kind
remembrance of her carved on the stone?

She was vicious. She was unfaithful. She
was a liar.

To let her be buried here at all was a
gesture of kindness on my part.

Humphrey, must we be married in this
church?

Darling, we've already sent out the
invitations. We're being married on

Wednesday. We can't change the church
now.

So? Close to her grave.

I feel she could almost reach up and
touch me.

Ah, good evening, Mrs. Boyd.

Mr. Orford at home?

No, Dr. Linden, he isn't. Is my daughter
here? No, they've gone to the church to

see about the music for their wedding.
But they'll be back soon. Are your

lodgings comfortable?

Yes, thank you. Quite comfortable.

Much too comfortable, in fact. You know,
a country doctor cannot afford to live

so luxuriously.

Mr. Orford chose them himself.

They're only a few minutes away.

Oh, my daughter's enchanted to be in
London.

She'll find the house strange at first,
but in time she'll get used to it.

I hope we haven't kept you waiting.

No, no, no. I've only just arrived.

Humphrey, the house looks exactly as I
remembered it. Yes, I never redecorated

it. Why should I, living here alone?

But we're going to change all that,
aren't we?

You can start any time you like.

There's a lot to do. I've never seen the
rooms upstairs.

You never asked, my dear.

You can see the bedrooms now if you
like.

It's your study that interests me most.
The place where you write.

Oh.

Only study is littered with papers and
books.

I feel quite ashamed to let anyone see
it now.

Let's wait till Mrs. Boyd can make it
look presentable.

A glass of sherry, Doctor?

Thank you.

A study should be littered with books
and papers.

I want to see it exactly as it is when
you're working in it. Do you mind,

Humphrey?

Not at all.

Come with me, please. I hope you won't
find it too shocking.

When Mrs. Boyd tardies my study, I
usually find my most important papers in

waste paper basket.

So I keep the place locked.

I warned you the place was something of
a mess.

Over here are the books I have collected
in connection with my work on the early

Christian martyrs.

These, I suppose, are my choicest
treasures.

This is the life of St. Sebastian,
according to St. Ambrose.

And this is the actus sanctorum of St.

Sebastian, attributed quite wrongly to
St. Ambrose, too.

Sebastian's missionary zeal upset the
Emperor Diocletian, who had him tied to

stake and shot at by the royal archers.

Sebastian's agony was exquisite.

In that condition, the victim's pain
becomes pleasure, so that those who

it can hardly be called torturers or
even sinners.

What is this doing here?

What is it, my dear?

It's a silk petticoat.

There's a needle and thread in it.
Somebody's been mending it.

Well, it probably belongs to Mrs. Boyd.
She must have been in here cleaning.

But it's a party petticoat. It couldn't
belong to Mrs. Boyd.

Why didn't you ask her, my dear?

Perhaps she was mending it for someone
else.

As I was saying, in that condition, pain
becomes pleasure.

Those who inflict it might be called
cathartic agents, since their

of so -called torture are really
instruments of purification.

Whatever is it, Lisa?

Could I go home, Father?

Don't you feel well, my dear?

I feel faint.

You come downstairs. I'll get you
something to drink.

I'd rather not.

I'd rather go back to our lodgings.
They're just across the square.

The fresh air might... You must have
something.

I'll get you some brandy.

Felisa, my dear, what is it? What is it?

Look, Papa.

Why would anyone want to live with such
a horrifying painting?

Well, I suppose it must signify
something to him.

Papa, I don't know what is happening to
me.

Suddenly I'm terrified of that man.

Of Humphrey?

Don't be absurd, my dear.

The room... The room is so strange.

When he talked about St.

Sebastian... When he spoke about
torture...

He seemed to revel in it.

Did you see his face? He was a different
man.

There's something evil here.

Some evil presence.

You're thinking ridiculous things.
Humphrey's a fine man.

Man should be proud of.

Instruments of torture.

That are really instruments of...

Pleasure and purification.

I'm frightened, Papa.

I tell you, I'm frightened.

Are you feeling better?

Yes, thank you.

Well, Humphrey, I think we'd better be
going. Lisa should be lying down.

May I see you in the morning at the
solicitor's? I'll call for you at nine o

'clock. Everything's ready.

All it requires is our signatures and
then back for the ceremony.

Isn't there?

I know this is a gloomy old place to
live in, but if you like, we'll leave

Italy immediately after the wedding.
Would you like that?

You're very kind to me, Humphrey. Thank
you. I do appreciate it.

If you'll excuse me a moment, I'll see
you at the door.

Did you know that he'd been married
before?

Of course, my dear.

Did you know his first wife?

I heard about her, that's all.

Elisa.

Something I have not told you.

I'm in Humphrey's debt.

Very deeply, too.

And if I marry him? He'll settle my
debt.

And there's another thing we have to
remember.

It hasn't been anyone straining for your
hand. You've forgotten Philip.

Why do you bring up Philip all the time?

You haven't heard from him for months.

I understand.

I'll marry Humphrey.

You'll never regret it, my dear.

Oh, Miss Miss.

Mr.

Orford is out.

I know, it doesn't matter.

It was you I came to see.

Oh.

Mr. Orford has told me that I may
redecorate the house exactly as I

I thought I'd go over the rooms one by
one.

I'd like to start with his study.

But ma 'am, Mr. Orford always keeps the
study door locked.

But you have a key.

No, ma 'am.

I do not have a key.

But you must know where it is kept.

No, ma 'am, I do not.

Mrs. Boyd, we're going to be spending a
great deal of time in each other's

company, aren't we?

Yes, ma 'am, I hope so.

Well, then we mustn't have any secrets
from each other, must we?

No, ma 'am, we mustn't.

The truth of the matter is that Mr.
Orford doesn't even let me clean the

Not even to clean it? No, ma 'am.

Well, then let's start with the other
rooms upstairs, shall we?

I would like your advice.

You know the house so much better than I
do. Well, as Mr. Orford is not here,

you know ever since the first Mrs.
Orford died, this house has become

and gloomier. It's a pleasure to think
that someone is coming to brighten it

I wish we could have just a little peek
at the study. I have so many ideas about

it.

I've never been in that room.

What?

Not since Mrs. Orford died.

But Mr. Orford said... Why haven't you
been in it? More than once, I've had the

key in the lock, but somehow I couldn't
bring myself to turn it.

Well, let's do it together now.

Shall we?

Oh, ma 'am.

Please, Mrs. Boyd, if I do let you in,
you won't tell him, will you?

No, of course not.

He doesn't even know I know where the
key is hidden.

Well, now, promise me that you'll never
tell him.

I promise.

Mrs. Boyd, you said you hadn't been in
here for years, didn't you?

Well, no one ever comes in here.

Then how did your petticoat get in here?

My petticoat?

When we were here before, I noticed the
silk petticoat on that chair.

Mr. Orford said it was yours.

Mine, ma 'am.

But I told you I've never been in here
since his first wife died.

No one has.

Mr. Orford wouldn't allow it.

Mrs. Boyd, I need your help. Will you
help me, please?

Tell me about the first Mrs. Orford. Who
was she?

There's no mystery about her.

She was the daughter of Mr.

Orford's gamekeeper.

Wasn't a lady of quality at all.

But oh, so pretty.

Were they very much in love?

Well, a month after they were married,
he found her with a lover.

At least that's what I've heard.

Did she die in this house?

Yes, ma 'am.

Of what?

Of terror.

Or hatred.

And the man, the lover, what happened to
him?

There he is.

Elisa?

You may go, Mrs. Boyd.

If there's anything you want to find
out, why don't you ask me? I know so

more than the servants.

Now tell me.

What would you like to know about the
man in that painting?

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here.

No, no. Your curiosity is quite natural.

Humphrey, please.

I found them together in this house,
though I had him arrested for

housebreaking.

And as I happened to be justice of the
peace, the jury found the wretch guilty

and he was hanged.

Until he was quite, quite dead.

I've got the seated chest all ready with
the cancer to lay your dress away. I

don't want to see.

Oh, ma 'am, you mustn't be unhappy.

Mr. Orford has his peculiarities, but
then what man is perfect?

I'm afraid of him.

She's made him what he is.

You must make him something better,
something different.

Come in.

A gentleman to see you, ma 'am. Who is
it?

Lieutenant Philip Haven. He says he's
your cousin, home from India.

Philip.

I only arrived in London this morning
and heard the news about your marriage.

I'm so glad to see you, Philip.

This is my cousin, Philip Haven. He has
just returned from three years in India.

I've introduced myself.

Of course.

I've never seen you in regimentals
before. You look so handsome.

Never take them off, young man.

If you do, you might look just like any
other young man.

How long will you be staying here,
Philip?

Two months, that's all.

Well, we are going to Italy tomorrow,
but when we return, I hope... Elisa.

Don't you think you should be changing?

Oh, let's have a glass of wine at least
with Philip first.

I must prepare for our journey tomorrow
if you'll excuse me.

It's nice to have met a cousin of my
wife's.

Your husband seems to think I've called
at the wrong moment.

Of course not.

Now we must have a glass of champagne.
You must drink to my happiness.

No, please don't.

I'd better go.

I can wish you happiness without a glass
of champagne.

But you've only just arrived.

You must tell me all about India and
about your life in the army.

You hardly wrote to me at all.

I was ill with malaria in March.

It was two months before I got better.

That's why they let me come home. I
wasn't due until September.

And you love the army, don't you?

Yes, and I love India.

So a lot of the country.

It'll be good to go back.

Well, goodbye, Elisa.

But we will see you when we return,
won't we?

Perhaps.

Philip, promise me you will come and see
us.

I'll try.

Let's drink a toast to our marriage.

Your cousin's visit this afternoon was
rather unexpected, wasn't it?

Completely.

He heard about our marriage and he
wanted to wish us both happiness.

I was very thoughtful of him.

When you get to know him better, I'm
sure you will like him. I think that's

extremely unlikely.

But you, you like him, you're fond of
him, shall we say?

He's my cousin after all.

And is he fond of you?

He used to be.

Was he in love with you?

We were so young.

And were you in love with him?

I suppose I was.

But that's all past now.

He was whispering to you in the hall.

As he was going, when you kissed him, he
was whispering to you.

Why would he whisper?

You were arranging to meet you when we
get back to Italy. Humphrey, please.

Why are you lying to me? I'm not lying
to you. I asked him to visit us when we

return from Italy.

Do you think I want to start another
marriage with lies?

If anyone is lying, it is you.

Two hours ago, you swore a solemn oath.

I've had some experience of a wife who
betrayed that oath.

I shouldn't want it to happen again.

Papa, would you come upstairs, please?

Why, what's the matter, my dear?

He were to have left half an hour ago,
but Humphrey's locked in his study and

won't answer.

Well, get the key, my dear. There's only
one key and it's gone.

Humphrey!

Humphrey! Papa, there's something
dreadfully wrong.

I'm sure of it, I can't... Humphrey!

Humphrey!

He's been stabbed.

Who could have done it with the door
locked?

Yes, but the door was locked from the
inside.

She must have stabbed him with a paper
knife.

Oh, you poor, poor thing.

All these years, he's kept her locked up
here.

Why doesn't she say something?

A woman's lost her reason.

Then it was her pedigree.

Yes.

Why didn't she call for help? All these
years, why didn't she cry out?

You thought of that.

You cut out her tongue.

This seems to be the end of my attempted
escape.

As for our story, however, there is a
bit more.

Shortly after the scene you have just
witnessed, the police entered the

but because of the circumstances,
justice was tempered with mercy.

If tonight's story seemed a bit strong
for you, perhaps you would like to

into the delightful make -believe of one
of our commercials, after which I...

representing grim reality, shall return.

I don't understand.

There must be something in the
atmosphere that makes otherwise strong

ladders shatter under my weight.

Next week, if I escape in time, we shall
have another story. Until then, good

night.