All language subtitles for Danza.Macabra.Castle.of.Blood.1964.2160p.UHD.BDREMUX.HDR.HEVC-Нечипорук_track9_eng

I heard a light knock at the
door of the library.

And, pale,

like a visitor from a tomb,

a servant entered, walking on tiptoe.

He had a look filled with terror.

And he spoke to me in a trembling voice...

Muffled, barely above a whisper.

What was he saying?

I only picked up fragments of
what he was saying.

He spoke of an ungodly scream that
lacerated the silence of the night;

of a gathering of all the family members;

of a search in the direction of the sound.

Then...

The sound of his voice

became frighteningly clear,

as he whispered

of a violated grave,

of a body wrapped in a shroud,
disfigured but

nevertheless breathing,

nevertheless quivering,
nevertheless alive!

He pointed to my clothes.

They were

mud-caked and bloodstained!

I didn't speak.

And he took,

gently, one of my hands,

which bore wounds inflicted
by human nails.

He directed his gaze to an
object hanging on the wall.

I gazed at it briefly.
It was a spade.

With a scream, I rushed to the table!

I grabbed the box that was on it...

But I couldn't open it.

Because of my trembling,

it slipped out of my hands
and fell heavily, shattering.

And out came tumbling,

very noisily,

some dental instruments

mixed with 32 minuscule
white objects

seemingly made of ivory!

And they scattered here and there

on the floor.

They were the 32 magnificent teeth
belonging to my cousin, Berenice,

that I had obsessed about
during her illness,

and which, six months
after her death,

I had found again,

on that terrible night,

in which I didn't remember
what I had done,

what had happened...

I have read this story of yours already.

But narrated by you,
I'd say it seems almost...

True!

Who are you?

Alan Foster.

Journalist.

For The Times.

The journalist who bombarded me
with letters for 5 days.

You never agreed to meet me. It was
the only way to try to get this interview.

It's not an everyday occurrence that
Edgar Allan Poe comes to London.

This, in fact, is the first time
I have visited England.

And it will certainly be the last.

Has London so greatly disappointed you?

Life itself has disappointed me.

Sit down, please.

I'll tell you right away that
I'm not a novelist,

but a colleague of yours:
a reporter.

Everything I've written so far,

really happened.

Only in the imagination of a
brilliant but imaginative writer.

No.

It's pure and simple chronicle,
my young friend.

You treat me like a boy,

but you are only
seven years older than me.

Seven?

No, all the millennia already lived,

interspersed with a word
that does not exist:

Death.

You are extraordinary!

If death really is the
only sure thing, then...

You confuse the grave with death,

my young friend.

A marble slab that seals a sepulcher

can give us the certainty of the tomb,

not of the afterlife,

which is populated by
an incalculable number

of unofficial living beings.

Please, don't mock me.

It's impossible that a
man of your intelligence

may believe in a life beyond death,

except for poetic purposes.

I am grateful to you for
managing to call me an idiot

with such exquisite elegance.

Truly, it was not what I intended,
believe me.

I respect and admire you too much
to allow myself such impertinence.

But I am absolutely convinced
that the life cycle

ends with death,
which leads to the grave.

Beyond that,

an empty void.

Nothingness.

Therefore,

nothing material and earthly.

The spirit is impalpable without the body,

which is

the essence of those who are alive.

The dead cannot return to
walk the earth, as they do

in your novels.

Nor can they scare us.

I have

an excruciating fear, yes,

but only of the living,

who cease to do harm
only after they die.

Pardon me, sir.

I am Lord Thomas Blackwood,

and I'm willing to bet
100 pounds you won't be able

to spend the night in
my castle in Providence.

Why? Do you think I would flee,
shaking with fear, perhaps?

No...

You won't run away.

Of all those who have accepted my wager,

no one has made it out
of my castle alive.

I'm sorry,

but I can't accept your bet.

Wise choice, my young friend.

I have heard of Lord Thomas' castle,

erected on the hill of Providence,
upon my arrival in London.

Exactly one year ago, the last people
to go in were two young newlyweds

on their honeymoon.

Yes, he was one of my wife's cousins.

As far as I have been told,

and only Lord Thomas can dispute it,

they never came out again.

Of course, they must have found it
to their liking and stayed.

You don't want me to believe
they vanished into thin air?

One way or another, dead or alive,

they will have left the castle.

Sorry to contradict you,

but Mr. Poe is right.

They never came out.

They rest, in fact, in the
family cemetery nearby.

I seek, every year,

someone brave enough to
accept my challenge,

in the hope of debunking
this terrible legend.

But you are a nice young man,

and I'm glad you didn't want
to accept my bet.

It's not that I don't want to, my lord.

I can't.

100 pounds is a sum of money

that is never to be found in the
pockets of an honest journalist.

But 10 pounds? Yes.

Would you accept for 10 pounds?

Whenever you want.

It must be tonight.

The Night of the Dead!

Only between midnight today,
November 1st,

and tomorrow's sunrise,

the dead return to my castle to relive

the tragic story that
snatched them from life.

Very well! Then tonight I will take
this opportunity to consolidate my theory

and write a sensational article...

About the castles of terror.

Consider this carefully, though,
my young friend.

I've already considered it.

Allow me to finish this interview
and then we'll be on our way.

No!

We have to go right away.

The castle is far away

and with my carriage it'll take
no less than two hours.

Yes, but I also have to write my article.

If that's the real reason,

we could converse while we're traveling.

Because, if you don't mind,
I'll accompany you.

We will be honored, Mr. Poe.

In that case...

Let's go.

I only ask to quickly drop by
the offices of the newspaper.

Agreed.

Thank you, gentlemen. Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Have you ever tried to write stories

inspired by reality?

Reality...

Always lies beyond,

on the outside,

or below,

all the stabilized forms,

be they of society

as well as of the spirit.

In the abysses,

at the bottom of the sea,

at the South Pole.

Of all the subjects more or
less melancholic,

which one,

if we follow humanity's universal
understanding of it,

is the most melancholic?

Death

is the obvious answer.

And when is this most
melancholic of subjects

at its most poetic?

When it allies itself to beauty.

Therefore,

the death of a beautiful
woman is, undoubtedly,

the most poetic subject in the world.

We have arrived.

You're still in time to return with us.

I am too tempted by your 10 pounds.

Think carefully about it.

Thank you for the interview,

and I hope Lord Thomas' ghosts
do not prevent me from publishing it.

We will return tomorrow
morning at dawn. Good luck.

Good luck, my young friend.

I forgot, you will find the torches
in the alcove under the staircase.

Thank you.

You must not allow your
surroundings to unsettle you, Alan.

The spiderwebs, the other nonsense,

these suspicious noises,

these illusory apparitions,

must be examined immediately.

Because hesitating even for a second
would be tantamount to being afraid.

An optical effect.

Very simple.

It's an optical effect.
Just that.

Did my brother send you?

If your brother is
Lord Thomas Blackwood, then yes.

My name is Alan Foster.

My name is Elisabeth.

Your brother told me
the castle was uninhabited.

Yes...

I know he says that,

because for him, I am dead.

Dead?

Yes.

He hasn't wanted to see me
ever since I left his world

to seek here the happiness
I could never find.

And you have not been able

to convince him to
reconcile with you?

No, I have been left alone.

Then...

Maybe I'd better leave.

Are you afraid of me?

No.

But if I'd known, I would not
have accepted this bet.

Yes, of course.

The famous bet my brother
places every year,

so that I may have company for one night.

And to give credence to the legends
and fantastical stories

that are told about this castle.

Are the stories true?

All fantasies.

Coincidences. Fatality.

But... don't you want to win the bet?

And

has anyone

before me ever won?

The past does not matter.

Now there's you and there's me
and a hundred pounds.

Truthfully, I only bet 10.

I'm not as rich as you think.

You will not get rich,

but at least you can help me to
play a trick on my lord.

Come with me.

I have your room ready upstairs.

Did you know about my arrival?

Naturally.

You or someone else.

Every year, someone arrives on this night.

This night...

The Night of the Dead.

What are you afraid of?

Who turned them off?

Nobody!

Everything turns itself off and
on again sometimes, you should know.

You are shaking.

It's cold in here.

Let's go.

Is it at all possible that it should be me,

a woman, to give you courage?

I had more confidence in you.

Look!

What?

The painting.

Once again,

the light of the candles played

a dirty trick on me.

A dirty trick?

A trivial optical illusion,
without a doubt.

The portrait of your ancestor

seemed...

Seemed alive to me.

But Julia doesn't belong to
the Blackwood family.

And what's more,
she's the same age as me.

I apologize.

I'm doing

a lot of foolish things.

I implore you to offer many apologies
to Lady Julia on my behalf,

even if I do not have the
pleasure of knowing her.

I think you will get to know her very soon.

I found it on the ground,
in the stables.

I brought it up, thinking that maybe...

Thank you!

I've been looking for it for a long time.

I had lost it.

How strange! I was ready to spend
a frightening night with diabolical ghosts,

and instead I find myself in
such delightful company.

If you want to allude to my company,
you won't be disappointed, Alan.

I do not disappoint those I like...

And I like you.

But Julia is very unfriendly,
especially towards men.

Here we are. You will find this
floor somewhat tidier.

You must excuse me,
but I have no servants left,

so I had to abandon the ground floor.

But these rooms are still
sufficiently hospitable.

Come here, Alan, next to me.

Tell me what's going on outside of here,
in the world, and tell me about you.

In London, nothing new.

The usual fog, the usual
boredom, the eternal traditions.

London is as you left it.

You haven't missed anything by
being ensconced in this castle.

Those who have lost out are the Londoners,

who have been deprived of the
pleasure of admiring your charm

and your beauty.

You are kind and you know perfectly

the art of making yourself
appealing to a woman.

I only say what I think.

And the truth is not a compliment.

Thank you.

For years, I have not felt so much
like a woman as I do with you.

If I'm not mistaken, you asked me
to tell you about myself.

It won't take long.

Poor.

Unmarried, and without relatives.

I'm 30 years old. I'm a journalist.

And I feel...

Tremendously alone.

I'm desperately alone, too.

May I keep you company?

I am happy to meet you in person,

Miss Julia.

Did Elisabeth tell you about me?

She merely satisfied my curiosity,

which was piqued

by the painting, in which your
beauty is only hinted at.

You flatter me.

And what did she tell you about me?

Your name! Just your name!

And you think I should thank you,
be grateful for your discretion?

No.

I think it would have been better
for you not to come.

Why? Let's hear.
Am I disturbing you, perhaps?

Not at all.

We were talking about London and
a little bit about me, before going to bed.

Certainly together.

What are you saying, Julia!

Sorry, I didn't mean to allude
to what Elisabeth imagined.

I just wanted to say
"at the same time,"

not in the same bed.

Enough!

Goodnight, Foster.

Goodnight.

Nothing left for me to do but
to wish you good night, too...

Even if for you it will no longer be so.

Frankly, I don't understand you.

Don't lie, Alan.
You're not good at telling lies.

Who told you my name?

Nobody.

I caught it on Elisabeth's sweet lips
as soon as I walked in.

Goodnight.

I'll repeat it for the last time, Julia:

You must stop offending me,
humiliating me, persecuting me.

You don't know what I'm capable of.

I know, I know.

But what can you do to me?

Kill me, perhaps?

You can't, my dear.

What then?

Shut up!

Are you not satisfied with
being my life's ruination?

Why do you still insist on
persecuting me like this?

You like Alan, don't you?

Come on, admit it.

Admit you like him!

Yes!

I like him!

I like him and I want him!

And don't you love him?

Yes, I love him!

You poor thing.

Had I not come in,
you'd now be happy in his arms.

Happy...

Yes,

maybe I'd have been
happy with him.

No.

It's not true.
You've never been happy.

But maybe this time
I had a premonition.

Please, Julia, I beg you.

Be good, give me one
more chance, just one more.

No.

Only next to me will you be happy.

Go away!

I am a woman,
don't you understand?

A real woman! There is
no place for you in my life!

What life, Elisabeth?

Do you understand what you're saying?

I despise you, Julia!

I hate you!

I hate you!

"I'll wait for you at midnight in the
park under the big oak. Hector."

CARMUS - INTRODUCTION TO
METAPHYSICAL MEDICINE

I apologize, I just came to see
if you were asleep.

I would have gone back to
my room without waking you.

I wanted to read a very interesting book.

I spend every night at the newspaper,

and I can't fall asleep before dawn.

Do you mind if I stay a while?

Not at all.

I think only an imbecile or
a madman could refuse

the company of a beautiful woman like you.

Carmus.

Reading this will not facilitate
falling asleep. I will choose one for you.

No. I implore you, stay here.

How could I read a book when there
are so many things to read in your eyes.

What's written in my eyes, Alan?

Kiss me.

Hold me close.

I am yours.

Take me...

It's written...

Yes, take me!

Let your warmth take me away
from my hopeless cold.

Yes, hopeless.

Yes, take me. Kiss me, my love.

Oh, Alan, I am alive only when I love.

Yes...

Ah, yes...

Yes...

Alan...

My love...

Yes...

Yes...

Harlot.

I knew it!

I knew it would end like this.

Where are you going?

Leave me be!

You have nothing to do
with this matter.

Despite everything, I still love her.

Don't do it!

And why shouldn't 1?

To always allow myself
to be treated like this?

Herbert must know.

Immediately!

We met too late.

My love, what matters is
having found you.

And now,

we will stay united forever.

Forever divided...

Me in my world and you...

In yours, out of here.

But my world will be yours, Elisabeth.

No, I can't go back.
It no longer belongs to me.

Elisabeth!

What is it, Alan?

What a fright!

I had the impression

that your heart was not beating.

My heart does not beat, in fact.

It hasn't beaten for 10 years.

I am dead.

Dead.

Elisabeth!

No!

Not him!

Elisabeth?

Elisabeth!

Elisabeth!

Elisabeth!

Elisabeth!

Elisabeth?!

Elisabeth?!

It's not possible...

It's not possible!

Here everything is possible tonight.

But don't worry about Elisabeth.

But Elisabeth has disappeared!

She'll reappear.

We must find her!

She's wounded,
we must take care of her!

It's useless.

What do you mean, useless?

Are you all crazy here?
Don't you understand that--

There's already someone
who looks after her.

Trust me.

Who are you?

I am Doctor Carmus.

Carmus?

The famous luminary of medicine?

Yes.

There had been no news
of you in a long time.

It was presumed you were...
- Dead?

It would be more accurate to say
that I stopped living unnecessarily

in a world that didn't give me
the possibility to complete my studies.

But I see you are shocked.

You need a strong drink.

Come with me.

I have a supply of excellent
whiskey in my studio.

Take a seat.

Calm your nerves, Foster.

Your name is Foster, isn't it?

How do you know?

I heard you talking to Elisabeth.

Then you...

Yes.

I saw everything.

I heard everything.

But I could not intervene for any reason.

In time, you will understand why.

Sit down.

Drink your whiskey calmly.

I don't understand.

I have the impression to be
stuck in a living nightmare.

Yet I am convinced, I am certain,

that Elisabeth is alive!

I felt her body vibrate!

I felt her warmth!

Because she, at that moment,
was alive with the power of the senses,

which cannot die.

What do you mean?

In every human being,

there exist three forms of life.

That of the body, which is the weakest.

That of the spirit,
which is indestructible.

And that of the senses,

which, although not eternal,

can survive for a long time after death.

Especially when a human being
is torn from life

by a violent act,

in a particular moment

in which the senses are
experiencing an intense emotion.

In short,

one does not die completely

when one's not prepared to die.

It's a completely absurd theory.

But I can demonstrate it.

Be careful!

This reptile is very venomous.

Right now, its senses are all engaged

in a violent emotion of defense.

Theoretically,

the reptile should have died at
the very moment I struck the blow.

Instead, it carries on living.

I already conducted this
experiment as a boy.

Yes, with lizards.

It's true that the body struggles
for a few more seconds, but then...

There.

Now it has completely ceased to live.

Try to get your hand closer.

Careful.

Its glands still secrete venom.

The reptile is dead,

but its defensive sense lives on.

But not for long.

Of course, once blood circulation,
the life-source of the tissues,

stops, the process of
decomposition commences

and the sensory motor dies, as well.

I don't think this theory of yours
can also be applied to human beings.

You must believe it,

because you have had proof of it.

You have seen Elisabeth.

You spoke with her.

You felt her body quiver in your arms.

And yet...

Elisabeth

is buried down there,

in the cemetery at the
edge of the park.

What about the others?

They're down there, too,

victims of the same destiny.

Which destiny?

Come with me

and you'll know.

Soon, the dead

will return to relive the last episode

of their earthly existence.

Only the diseased mind of Lord Thomas

could have sent you here on the
night of November the second.

Sadistic and ruthless like his
great-grandfather,

the first Count of Blackblood.
- Blackwood.

He managed to change
the family name to Blackwood:

"black wood" instead of "black blood,"
as it originally was.

He was appointed Lord for
having secretly hanged

the many enemies of the crown
from the trees in the park.

He was the executioner of London!

Don't be surprised, Foster.

Too many things you have yet to see.

Professor...

I beg of you...

Tell me about Elisabeth.

It's time.

Words are useless now.

Look.

Would you like to drink something?

Yes. Yes, thank you.

What do you want?

Come outside.

I can't stand to see you
in here with him!

Wait for me at the stables.

Begone!

Elisabeth?

I couldn't see you anymore.

I am here to guard her.

Thank you, Julia.

You've already done so for the
four months that I've been away,

and now, it's my turn.

A magnificent family tableau.

Are you leaving?

Yes, William, I'm going back
to London tonight.

I have commitments in the morning
and you know I hate rising early.

You're no longer the hunter
who got up at dawn.

The city ruined you.

I'll leave the honor of the
great hunts to you.

Thank you for the wonderful evening,

and it's a pleasure to see you
two together again.

And you, William, try not to
leave her alone anymore.

I sold all the possessions
I had in America.

I have no more reason to travel
other than for pleasure.

What would you say about
a nice cruise in Europe,

all together, in spring?
France, Italy...

It's not a bad idea.

We'll visit you in London soon
and we'll talk about it.

Yes!

Leave it.

No, no. I can very well go myself.

You stay here with the guests.

Goodnight.

See you soon, Thomas.

Goodbye, William.

So long, dear.

Goodbye.

Goodbye, Elisabeth,

and have fun hunting.
- Goodbye, Thomas.

Thank you.

I don't want you to
go back to that man!

Don't talk nonsense,
he's my husband.

George, the carriage!

Come with me.

Quick!

I don't want you to!

You can't go back with him!

You're mine!

In these months, you have
experienced true love.

Everything reminds you
of unforgettable hours.

He will leave again.
I assure you, Herbert.

But now let me go!

No!

You would go to him, I know.

I'll kill you if you go back with William!

No! Let me go!

No!

No!

I don't want to!

I don't want to...

No...

What you saw

belongs to the Blackwoods' past.

But it's just a little backstory.

The real tragedy begins now.

Come with me.

Yes.

Yes...

Ah, yes, yes.

Yes.

Yes...

Yes...

I live only when I love.

Come on, don't cry, Elisabeth.
Please don't cry.

I beg you, don't cry.

It's all over now.

I'm here with you.

Don't cry, Elisabeth.

I beg you, Elisabeth.

Go away! Begone!
- No... I beg you...

Go away!

Don't reject me.

I hate you, I despise you!

I love men.

Men! Do you understand?!

No, that's not true.

Yes, it is! I hate you.
You're a murderer! Leave me!

I can't live only with you anymore.

I will never leave you ever again.

We will always be together!

I'd rather die

than do this.

No, don't say that.

You can't...

Because ...

... Elisabeth...

I love you!

Stop!

Carmus, let go of me.

Let me go!

Nobody's holding you back.

You are stuck in the present, Foster.

And you cannot cross the
threshold of the past.

That's not true.

This is all a mystification.

The dead live in another space.

In a different dimension.

Convince yourself.

Let me go,

and I'll convince you of
the contrary, Carmus!

You're wrong again, Foster.

Look!

There is nothingness behind you.

Let me go!

No!

It is useless for you to hide!

Carmus!

Carmus?!

Elisabeth?

Carmus?

Carmus?

Carmus, where are you?

Show yourself! I beg you!

Tell Lord Thomas that he
has won the bet!

Carmus!

I want to get out of here!

I can't take it anymore!

Carmus! Carmus!

Open up, Carmus!

I know you've locked yourself in there!

Open up!

Open up!

Carmus!

I have already told you
that I lost the bet.

I give up!

Carmus!

I'm going insane...

I am going insane!

Carmus!

Carmus!

Be careful, Carmus!

Be careful!

Did you see how and why I died?

"Blood is the source of life.

Only blood makes the dead
come back to life!

And we will drink from your spring!"

It's marvelous. Here we'll spend
an unforgettable first night.

First night of love and terror, if what
Lord Blackwood says is true.

Don't leave me, even for an instant.

What is it?
Are you afraid, Mrs. Perkins?

Yes, afraid of cheating
on you with a ghost.

Don't come in.

Don't come in!

Stop!

I'll take care of it.

Don't go upstairs,
they want to kill you!

You don't want me to go out.

Very well, then!

I'm not afraid of you!

You are dead!

I am alivel

Can you hear me? Alive!

What was that?

A ghost that spies on us
through the keyhole.

Don't be a fool, go and check it out.

Very well.

But I'll be right back.

Elsie!

Elsie!

Elsie!

Now it's your turn, Foster.

Your time has come, Alan.

Run away, Alan.
They want your blood!

Run away, Alan!

I beg you, run away!
Run away! Run!

Elisabeth?

Follow me, Alan.
Follow me, quick!

Elisabeth?

Elisabeth?!

In an hour, it will be dawn.

You're in our hands now.

You won't be able to escape us.

Your fate is sealed.

We don't want to give up on life.

Your blood will be our life.

Where were you, Elisabeth?

Maybe I can save you,
come with me!

Why aren't you with the others?

Because I love you!

It's incredible. I've never loved
anyone in my life as I love you!

But you are alive!

No...

I wish I were, Alan.

But I beg you, run away.

Quick, before it's too late.

Here they come!

Go out into the park!

Once you cross the gate,
you will be safe.

Dawn is near. Go, quick!

Yes, but you come away with me!

No.

No!

No, Alan, let go of me.

You can't bring me back to
a world that is no longer mine!

Let go of me!

I am dead!

Don't you get it? I'm dead!

No, Elisabeth, because you're alive!

Convince yourself! You're alive!

Come with me!

No, Alan!

Let go of me! Leave me!

I beg you! I can't follow you!

Let go of me!

Alan...

I can't follow you anymore!

Come with me!

Alan, let me go!

Come with me!

Let go of me, I implore you!

Elisabeth!

My love...

You can't escape us.

Your fate is sealed.

We will catch you!

We don't want to renounce life.

Your blood is ours now!

Your blood will be our life.

We'll catch you!

We will catch you!

We will catch you!

We will catch you!

We will catch you!

No!

We will catch you!

We will catch you!

We will catch you!

You can't escape us, Alan!

He did it!

He's there, in front of the gate,
waiting for us!

Stop, Lastér!

Foster?

Nobody ever survived
the Night of the Dead.

Unfortunately, you lost the bet...

Boy.

Let's go.

I'll have him buried in the park.

When I write this story,

no one will believe it.

As always.

Did you stay behind for me, Alan?

Yes, Elisabeth!