All language subtitles for My Cousin Rachel.Eng.1952.DVDRip.Xvid-CT

In the old days when I was a child,

They used to hang our murderers
at the four-turnings crossroads.

This is what one moment of
passion can bring on a man, Philip.

As long as I can remember old tom was
never anything but dull and honest.

But whatever the cause,

One day there came a moment
of uncontrollable anger.

And when it was over,

This is what he had earned for himself.

For this is the price for murder.

That was 15 years ago.

But I should have remembered his words.

Death...

Is the price for murder.

My entire life has been spent
on the Cornish coast of England.

There, for more than a hundred years

There stood the solid, comfortable home

In which I grew up from infancy

In the care of my cousin Ambrose

What is it?

Open it.

Happy birthday, dear boy.

My parents died when I
was but a few months old.

From then on
- as long as he lived...

Ambrose was not only
my kinsman and guardian

But father, brother, friend,
everything in the world to me.

And just two years ago,

On the stormiest night
that I can remember

Distant bells began to toll for him.

And now they tell me if I spend
another winter in this blasted rain

I'll end up a cripple in a bath chair.

So I must go in search
of the sun, I suppose.

Where will you go?

Italy, perhaps.

Somewhere around the Mediterranean.

Well uh, you'll want me
to go with you, won't you?

I'd want you, of course,

But I don't think...

Think both of us should be
away from here at the same time.

You don't think you'll need someone to

Help you in and out of carriages
and all that sort of thing?

Good heavens no. I'm not
exactly an invalid yet.

The real trouble is...

I'm too much of a fool
about my home. I...

I hate to leave it even for a week.

Well, this must be for months.

And so today the
four-turnings crossroads

Is an even uglier place to me.

But it was there that
I bade him farewell

For the last time.

This is far enough.

You don't want to be late getting back.

Goodbye, dear boy.

Goodbye Ambrose.

Goodbye, Louise.

Goodbye.

Better keep an eye on
this one, don't you think?

She's coming along pretty fast now.

Never mind about me.

What we want to know is

Who's going to keep an eye on you?

What did I tell you?

Drive on.

Goodbye children. I'll
see you in the spring.

Goodbye, Ambrose.

Goodbye, Ambrose. God bless you.

But when winter had passed

And we were well into spring again

And still there was no
sign of his returning

I came to be troubled by
strange and formless fears

Wholly without reason,
but persistent and nagging.

And in some ways... Numinous.

Good morning.

Nick!

What news from our tourist now?

Still in Florence.

Can't seem to tear himself away
from some people he's met there.

Oh, who are they?

Have you ever heard of a family
from these parts named Corren?

One of them once married
to a member of our family?

Oh yes, I remember the Correns. Why?

He writes that he's met
one of them in Florence.

A countess, Tangeletti, half
english, half italian, a widow.

How old is she?

He doesn't say but,
middle aged I suppose

Married and widowed and so on.

She's been showing them
the gardens in Florence.

When's he coming home?

Didn't even mention it, this time.

Is it really true, sir?

It is.

What is it, dear?

Where's your father?

Here I am. What's the trouble?

Another letter.

I want you to hear it yourself.

My dearest boy, all is not well with me.

- keeps silent, though she
watches me all the time.

I have written to you several times.

There is no one here I can trust.

Unless I can get out
myself to post the letters

They may not reach you.

Since my illness, this has
been more difficult than ever.

As for the doctors

I have no belief in any of them.

They are all liars.

And the new one recommended
by our friend Rainaldi

I'm sure is a complete cutthroat.

But then he would
becoming from that quarter.

However, they've taken on a
dangerous proposition in me

And I will beat them yet. Ambrose

Look at the writing.

I can't believe it.

Not believe what?

It's not the letter of a
man in his right senses.

That's not it.

There've been hints before
in exactly the same tone.

There is nothing the
matter with Ambrose�s mind.

You may not know this,

But Ambrose�s father died
of a tumor on the brain.

It was never a matter much
discussed in the family,

And I�ve no idea whether these
things are hereditary or not

Nor do the doctors seem to know.

The only other
possibility I can think of

And one I would infinitely prefer

Is that Ambrose was drunk
when he wrote this letter.

I've never seen Ambrose
drunk in my life.

Nor I.

I was merely trying to choose
the better of two evils.

Well, whatever the
truth, we'll know it soon.

I'm leaving for Florence
first thing tomorrow morning.

Pull up a minute, please.

Isn't that the post bag?

Yes sir?

Let me see the letters, please.

Yes, sir.

-Thank you.
-Thank you, sir.

Drive on.

Villa, Sengeletti?

Si.

Signor Ashley. Is here?

No, no, signor...

Then signora Ashley?

Excuse me.

Do you understand english?

Yes, signor.

Would you be good enough to
announce me to Mr. Ambrose Ashley.

Excuse me signore, but you
are Mr. Ashley's son?

No, his cousin.

Is he here or not?

I'm very sorry, signore, but he's not.

He's dead.

Since three weeks now.

Would you care for a
glass of wine, signore?

No. Thank you.

How did he die?

From the fever, signore.

I mean was it quick... Or... Nor slow.

The illness was long and slow.

But the end was quick.

He fell asleep, truly.

You saw it?

Yes, signore.

It was very early in the morning

And Sr. Rainaldi send me for the doctor.

But it was too late.

I, myself, helped the
contessa to light the candles.

And when the nuns are gone, I
went back to look at him again.

The violence had all gone, now

And on his face, it was a look of peace.

What do you mean by violence?

During the fever, signore,

There were many times I
had to hold him down in bed

When the attacks come on.

And when the pain went

He would be dazed, and
heavy, his mind wondering

That was the way it was.

The whole winter. A strong man.
As helpless at last... As a child.

And, uh, Mrs. Ashley, is she still here?

No signore. She moved out
the day after the funeral.

Sr. Rainaldi thought it best.

Mr. Ashley's things?

She packed them all up and...

What about this?

She must have overlooked it, signore.

I see.

And if there's no objection,
I'll take it along for myself.

Of course.

And this... Signore Rainaldi.

You say he was of great help and
comfort to Mrs. Ashley during her...

Ordeal.

He never left the villa
during that entire week.

He was their true
friend, as well as lawyer.

Where can I find him now?

In the Via Derona, signore. Is the first
house on the left, after the fountain.

Thank you.

Is this Signor Rainaldi� s...

No thank you.

Avanti!

Mr. Ashley?

Yes.

Philip Ashley, a kinsman of Ambrose.

I can see the resemblance.

Will you have a chair, sir?

I've just come from the Villa
Sangaletti, Mr. Rainaldi.

I know. You have Ambrose�s stick.

You have no objection, I trust?

How could I?

It would have been sent to you, anyway.

It was in that empty house, Mr.
Rainaldi, and from the lips of a servant

That I first learned of
the death of my cousin.

I regret the
circumstances, I assure you.

Why was I not informed
at least of his illness?

Your cousin's death was
quite sudden, Mr. Ashley.

Not so sudden apparently that he
hadn't time to write me these letters.

Yes, she was afraid that he might
have written something like this.

The doctors warned her he might.

Why did they warn her?

Because of his behavior.

Which became quite strange and
secretive during those last few weeks.

Not without reason, of course.

On the contrary

With a very good reason.

The tumor, they said, was
beginning to press on his brain.

They said he had a tumor?

That was the cause of his death.

May I ask what proof there is of that?

Certainly.

This is a copy of the certificate
of death, signed by both doctors.

A second copy was
posted to you at the time

And a third to the trustee of your cousin's
will Mr. Nicholas Kendall of Cornwall.

How did you know Mr. Kendall
was the trustee of the his will?

I read it in the will.

You read my cousin's will?

Certainly, he showed it to me.

May I ask how he dispose of the estate?

In effect, to you.

All of it?

In trust, I believe,
until your 25th birthday.

What about her?

There was no mention of Mrs. Ashley
in the will filed for probate.

She'll take action,
of course, to break it.

On the contrary,

I have already written Mr. Kendall
our entire approval of its terms.

I wish I could say that your

Explanation of his illness satisfied me

But it doesn't.

Regardless of those doctors

Regardless of that paper

Those are not the letters
of a man simply sick

They are the letters of a man in danger

Surrounded by enemies.

Sick not only in body,
but in mind, too, remember.

He was failing fast.

What of this?

"she has done for me at
last. Rachel, my torment. "

What explanation do you have for that?

Are you any sort of student
of medical history, Mr. Ashley?

Of course not.

There is a particular affliction
of the brain, in the case of a tumor

Or similar growth, which results in the
sufferers becoming troubled with delusions

He fancies, for instance,
that he's being watched

That the person nearest
to him, such as his wife

Is either turned against him, or is
unfaithful or seeks to take his money

No amount of love or persuasion
can relieve him of this suspicion

Once it takes hold.

If you don't believe me or this
book, which you may take with you,

Ask an english doctor,
your own, perhaps.

Then why didn't she send for me?

If Ambrose had lost faith in her,

Why not send for the one
closest of all to him.

You're very young
aren't you, Mr. Ashley...

My age is not the question here!

Why was I not sent for at once?

I wished only to make the point

That I am older than you

And have probably had
more experience with women.

The contessa is a woman
of very strong feelings.

And such women do not
acknowledge defeat easily.

They cling to the things they want.

They never surrender, actually.

Where is she now?

I have no idea.

She left Florence yesterday, without
telling me where she was bound.

When she wishes me to know where
she is, she will write to me.

Is there anything more I may
do for you, while you're here?

No, thank you.

If you wish to see the
grave before you leave

It's in the protestant cemetery.

The stone ordered by Mrs. Ashley
is already in place, I believe.

When she returns

Tell her I was here

Tell her for me I went to the
villa and heard how Ambrose died,

And tell her also about
the letters he wrote to me.

I will. If she returns.

But Mrs. Ashley is also one of impulse

And there is no assurance that she
will ever come back to Florence again.

Good day, sir.

There beside his grave, I made a vow.

I swore that whatever it had
cost Ambrose in pain and suffering

I would return it in full measure.

Because I did not
believe Rainaldi's story.

I believed in the truth of the two
letters that I held in my right hand.

Someday, somehow, I would
repay my cousin Rachel.

I must say, you're a great deal prompter
than I�ve been accustomed to with you.

We raced.

It's the only way to
get him anywhere on time.

Will you be long?

I don't think so.

Then if you'll excuse me, I�ll
change and we'll have some tea.

Such mystery

Don't look at me, I
don't know what it is.

Well.

Philip.

I've odd news for you.

Yes?

Mrs. Ashley is here.

In this house?

In Plymouth.

She arrived by ship two days ago.

She writes to tell
me of Ambrose�s death.

Apparently she knows nothing
of your visit to Florence.

I think you should read it.

I think it would impress you.

What's she after? A settlement?

No.

She only wants to return the
remainder of Ambrose�s possessions.

His books, his papers. Old clothes.

She wants to bring them
here herself, I suppose.

To judge from this letter, the
one from Rainaldi last week,

She wants nothing more
of us, not one shilling.

Although I believe, that as the widow, she might
properly make some kind of claim on the estate.

Claim? After driving him to his death?

That's a very foolish
thing to say, Philip.

And I wouldn't repeat it, if I were you.

If ever she heard such a charge

She would be well within her rights to
bring a case against you for slander.

Well within her rights.

If Ambrose had thought she deserved it.

He would have left his wife something,

The whole estate, in
fact, and you know it.

Unless he was too ill to
recognize his obligations.

But surely you don't believe
that story of the tumor.

I do now, yes.

Here is her record, here is Rainaldi�s,
and here is the death certificate.

In addition to which, I remember
Ambrose�s father's death.

The symptoms were quite similar.

Well, you may, but I
don't, not for a minute.

You mean you won't.

She doesn't even ask to see the house.

The house that would have been
her home, had Ambrose lived.

Instead of which, a lonely
hostelry in Plymouth.

You touch me, Nick.

I'm sorry, Philip.

As Ambrose�s friend

I can't sit here and do nothing

When his widow arrives alone
and friendless in this country.

I shall invite her to
come here and stay with us.

Until her plans are formed.

I know you won't want to see her

So if she accepts my invitation

I won't ask you over while she's here.

On the contrary. I'd
like very much to see her.

Perhaps you'll write that to her.

Tell her that Philip
Ashley is rather a plain man

Living in rather a plain fashion
with no fine manners whatsoever.

But if she wishes to see him,
and her late husband�s home,

The house will be completely at her
disposal whenever she cares to visit.

You think for one moment she'd
accept an invitation like that?

Send it along, and we'll
see whether she will or not.

Welcome, Mrs. Ashley.

Thank you, Seecombe

She has come, sir.

She was due here at five. It's now
nearly seven. I should hope she has.

Did you explain I was too
busy to be here to meet her?

She said she understood, sir.

Where is she now?

In her room, sir.

Am I to understand that she's
already dined without waiting for me?

Oh, no sir. She had a tray in her room.

She was very tired after the journey, and
asked that you excuse her this evening.

She told me to tell you, sir,

That if you wish to see her after
dinner she'd be pleased receive you.

In her room?

Yes sir.

Thank you.

Come in

Good evening.

Why!

How are you, Philip?

I.. Uh.. Hope you feel better now.

Very much, thank you. Will you
sit with me for a few minutes?

I owe you an apology for
not coming down to dinner

After you had gone to so much trouble to make
the house bright and beautiful for me, but

I was very tired and dull.

It's quite all right, I understand.

I do hope you didn't hurry
home before you should of.

No the.. Uh.. Work was all quite done.

You mustn�t, believe me, make any kind
of alteration in your days because of me.

I just wanted to say
one thing... Which is...

Thank you, Philip, for letting me come.

It can't have been easy for you.

You are quite welcome, I�m sure.

You've no idea what a
strange feeling it was

Driving through the
park and up to the house

With Seecombe standing
by the door to greet me.

Everything was just
as I had mentioned it:

The hall, the pictures, even the clock
striking four as I came in the door.

Was don really fourteen
on his last birthday?

Yes.

His birthday if a few
weeks before my own.

I know. You found him in
a pie for your breakfast.

Ambrose watched you open it from
behind a screen in the dining room.

He said he'd never forget the
look of amazement on your face

When you lifted the crust
and a puppy struggled out.

What an amazing thing for you to know.

Why I probably know a good many more
things about you than you'd ever imagine.

Yes.

Thank you, Seecombe.

Shall I take the dog out now ma'am.

I suppose so.

Come on, Don.

What about breakfast, ma'am? Mr. Philip
has his in the dining room at 8 o'clock.

Would it be too much trouble
for me to have mine in my room?

Not at all, ma'am.

I'll ring when I�m awake.

Very good, ma'am. Will
there be anything else?

No, thank you. Goodnight.

Goodnight. Goodnight, sir.

Ambrose used to say no woman
was fit to look at before eleven.

Would you like a cup?

I can hardly believe it!

Believe what?

My eyes. I've never seen Sercombe
serve tea before in my life.

He did it very well don't you think?

I'll show you something else.

I've never seen this tray before,

Nor the teapot, nor the kettle.

I didn't think you had.

I saw that look on your
face when he entered.

And I�ll tell you something else, too.

What

I don't think he'd ever
seen them before, either.

That butter's melting. You'd
better lick your fingers.

Would you like to smoke now?

In here?

If you'd like to.

I would indeed. When Mrs. Pascoe comes
we don't even smoke in the drawing room.

This is not a drawing room.

It's a boudoir.

And I�m not Mrs. Pascoe.

I thought women minded
about such things.

What they do when there's
nothing better to worry about.

This was aunt Phoebe's room wasn't it?

Was it?

Before you were born.

It may have been.

All I remember of aunt
phoebe is simply a name.

Ambrose never told you
of her great romance?

Why no.

Aunt phoebe got lovesick of the curate

And went away to Tunbridge
to mend her broken heart

But the heart proved stubborn

And aunt phoebe took a
chill that lasted 20 years.

Are you sure you haven't heard of this?

Never.

What happened then?

The chill left her after 20 years

At the sight of another curate

But by then she was five and forty

And her heart was not so brittle

So she married the second curate.

And.. Uh.. Was the marriage a success?

No. As a matter of fact. She
died on her wedding night.

But I think I better not
tell you the circumstances

Until we've known each
other a little longer.

Singing rock of ages

Well?

I can't tell. She's got a veil on.

I'm afraid the service won�t
go on until you lift your veil.

Oh, I�m sorry.

By George, that's a good-looking woman.

Quite young, too.

I remember, too, another
custom he was fond of.

Sunday lunch with the
Kendalls and the Pascoes.

And I wonder, with Philips permission,

If we might enjoy it together today.

Will you join us?

Then Louise, if would be
willing to drive back with Philip

Perhaps Ambrose�s oldest friend

Would invite me to ride
with him in his carriage.

Nothing would give me greater
happiness, Mrs. Ashley.

Thank you, Mr. Kendall.

We'll see you soon, then.

Will you?

Oh, dear me, indeed!

Well, what did she say?

About what?

Didn't you charge her?

Not yet.

Haven't you said anything at
all to her about the way he died?

No.. Uh.. I haven't had
the right opportunity.

But... I thought that�s
why you invited her here.

It is, and I intend
to at the right moment.

I must say, she's not all the
sort of person I thought she'd be.

You've seen that for yourself.

She's very beautiful.

You really think so?

But.. Middle aged, of course.

Quite 35 I should say.

Wouldn't you?

I have no idea. I care less.

She could be 99 for all I know.

At 99 women don't have eyes like that,

Or that complexion,

Nor do they dress like that.

Or look so well...

I love the stillness of a
room after a party, don't you?

You weren't bored?

They couldn't have been pleasanter.

And your Louise is charming.

She'll make you an excellent wife.

Louise is dear, but she's not mine.

She's still only a child now.

At your age, I�d suppose you think that.

You teasing me?

Not in any way.

It's just that I�m very happy.

It's been a wonderful visit for me.

It's not over, is it?

But of course. I came
only for the weekend.

You forget, I�ve a new
life to make for myself.

Why did he never make another will?

Do you know?

Does that matter now?

The fact remains, that I
can't afford to be idle.

I must look for work of some kind.

In London I suppose.

But you'll invite me
down again won't you?

I don't know.

You don't know?

I mean I... Don't know whether
you want to come again or not.

I'm afraid I haven't been
altogether honest with you.

How do you mean?

I should have told you, I suppose,

Ambrose wrote to me during his illness.

Did you know that?

No.

He wanted me

He begged me

To come to Florence

To help him.

But I arrived there too late.

Have you been to Florence?

Yes.

When?

How long ago?

I spent one night there.

The night of august 15th.

Right after I left.

So... Rainaldi told me.

Why didn't you tell me?

Why have you let me
stay here two whole days

Without mentioning such a thing?

I thought at first you knew.

What did he tell you?

I think you should read them yourself.

The long one came first,

Then the short one.

Only these two?

That's all.

How you must have hated me!

Yes.

Why did you ask me here?

To accuse you.

Of what?

I'm not sure.

Perhaps of breaking his heart.

Which would be murder, wouldn't it?

And then?

I hadn't planned beyond that.

I knew only that I
wanted to make you suffer,

And to watch you while you suffered.

And then I suppose to...

To let you go.

Then it was merciful of you.

More merciful than I should deserve.

If that was what you wanted!

Watch me...

Watch me now...

Watch me as much as you wish!

Rachel.

Please!

That�s no use either

When we both remember what he wrote.

I can forget

If you will

But why should you?

How do you know different?

Because you are not that women.

You're not the woman I hated.

That was someone who
existed only in his...

Poor, sick mind.

That's very generous of you, Philip

I was a fool.

No. Not at all.

Someday, when I�m not so tired,
I�d like to tell you about it.

About Ambrose and myself,

And our marriage.

As much of it as I understand anyway.

I'd never even met a man like this,

Strong, tender, without
conceit of any kind.

I think for the first time in
my life I knew what peace was.

Most, for him.

He was like someone sleeping

Who'd wakened suddenly

And found the world with all its beauty

And sadness, too.

Guido Rainaldi,

Whom he detested as
much as you probably do,

Guido told me once, that
Ambrose wakened to me

As some men waken to religion.

But a woman-unhappily-
is not religion

She's a human being with human thoughts.

And she shouldn't be
judged by the same rules.

He expected too much of you?

Her halo can be a lovely thing,

But she much be able to
take it off now and again,

And be human occasionally.

In any case-finally-religion
doesn't always improve a person.

And waking to the world
didn't help Ambrose.

He changed.

His nature changed.

How?

That's a question I wish,
from the bottom of my heart,

I could answer.

The doctors said it was his illness.

That out of pain and fear,
these deep hidden thoughts

And suspicions came at
long last to the surface.

But how can I be sure?

That it wasn't something
in me that brought them out.

Will you get a candle
and light me upstairs?

Of course.

Thank you.

You're quite sure you don't hate me now?

Why should I?

I'm very glad for it. Goodnight.

He's penniless, I�m sure.

That italian friend of hers
was a little vague about it,

But Ambrose wrote, if you remember,

That everything she
possessed, including the villa,

Would have to be sold to
pay off Sangaletti's debts.

She's certainly entitled to something.

How much would you suggest?

Five thousand pounds a year.

Five thousand?

To be paid to her quarterly
from the day of Ambrose�s death.

You don't think that's
a trifle overgenerous?

How can one be
overgenerous with property

That might have been due her anyway?

Very well.

If you insist, I�ll direct
the bank to make the payments.

A sum like that...

It's almost better than
being mentioned in the will.

To my distant, but very dear, cousin.

To mine, with a heart
full of love and gratitude.

And now...

Before the others arrive.

Merry Christmas, dear Rachel.

Now?

If you will.

Philip, darling.

Put it on.

The most beautiful thing
I�ve ever seen in my life.

Thank you, darling.

Forgive me Mrs. Ashley, but
I really must comment on it.

That's the most beautiful
pearl necklace I�ve ever seen.

Thank you. It's a very proud possession.

Philip, I�ve had a
communication from the bank

Which I find decidedly disturbing.

Yes.

It seems that in less than three months

Your cousin Rachel has overdrawn
her account more than double.

Well?

You don't regard that as
an extraordinary situation?

Why should I?

What she does with her
money is no affair of ours.

Well, I do.

And the only explanation I can find is That
she's sending the money out of the country.

Whatever she does with it

The only important point is that obviously
whatever we gave her was not enough.

That's ridiculous.

We know she had debts. We
know she's a generous woman.

I want you to increase
her allowance at once,

And, in addition, to issue a
check to cover that overdraft.

Philip, you're being very wayward.

I've been constantly worried,
in fact, by the direction

In which your emotions have
been carrying you recently.

The county, for one thing,
has not failed to note

The length of your
cousin's stay in this house.

I'm not interested in the
gossip of old women, thank you.

For another, you had no right to take
that necklace from the family collection

It was not yours, and won't be
for another three months yet.

What of it? It'll be mine then won't it?

The entire estate will be yours then.

But until then, not one item of it.

Very well then, I�ve loaned
to her for three months.

Is there any harm in that?

I don't know.

I'm not sure.

What are you suggesting, that
she might take it and sell it?

Quite by chance recently

I've come to learn a little
more about your cousin Rachel.

Such as what?

It happened, I came across
some old friends who've been

Who've been wintering in France
and Italy over a period of years.

It seems they met your cousin
when she was married to Sangaletti.

And?

Both were notorious for
unbridled extravagance,

And their own tell points, loose living.

The duel in which Sangaletti died
was fought because of another man.

These people said...

Don't you ever talk
to anyone but gossips?

These people said, that when
they heard of Ambrose�s marriage

To the countess Sangaletti,
they were horrified.

They predicted she would run through
his fortune in a matter of months.

I'm sorry to have to
tell you all this, Philip.

But my friends are responsible people
they're not given to idle gossip.

I've never heard anything so despicable!

Who are these people, anyway?

All that's important for
the moment, is that necklace.

You know it's tradition, very well.

You must explain this to her, and ask
her to return it to the collection.

Not in a thousand years.

Then I must do it for you.

I forbid you, sir.

You will not utter one word
to Mrs. Ashley on the subject.

The necklace is now hers.

Philip, you are very
young, very impressionable.

And I quite understand your wanting to
give your cousin some token of esteem,

But family jewels are
rather more than that,

Particularly that necklace.

So as your guardian and
executor of the estate

I must be firm about it.

If you won't ask Mrs.
Ashley to return it, I shall.

I'm sorry, but I
couldn't help overhearing.

But I assure there's no need for
either of you to be embarrassed.

It was dear of Philip to let
me wear this for the evening.

But quite right of you, Mr. Kendall,
to insist on its return. Here.

I shan't forget this, Nick.

Philip, please.

You mustn't mind, really.

I was proud to have worn
it for even that once.

I wanted you to wear it for always.

I know. I understand

But that stupid, unspeakable old...

You're acting like a child. It doesn't
matter, I assure you. Not in the least.

I'm not a child. I must ask
you to please remember that.

But I do, I do, darling.

I'm five and twenty all
but three blasted months.

I object to any further
patronage from anybody.

My mother wore those
pearls on her wedding day.

Before that, my aunt.

Before that, my grandmother.

Don't you realize why I
wanted you to wear them, too?

Bless you.

At last!

Good evening, sir.

We've been waiting for you.
You remember Guido, of course.

I must apologize for coming
without an invitation.

But then, neither did I expect
you, when you called on me.

You're welcome here, sir.

He should be scolded, though.

Imagine his being in England
a week without letting me know.

I couldn't be more
surprised when he walked in.

Will you have glass, Philip?

Thank you, no, I...

I think I should bathe and
change, first, if you'll excuse me.

Hurry, and we'll see you at dinner.

I'm not certain, uh...

Now, Philip?

It's a pleasure to see you here, sir.

It's very good of you to say so.

He reminds me of only of one person.

May I ask what that is?

Tisane. Guido's favorite tisane.

Which he says nobody can
make as well as myself.

No one can make any tisane
so well as your cousin.

I'm sure she knows more about herbs
than any other person in the world.

Yes, but what is it, a tisane?

I'm sorry, I should have introduced
you to it long before now.

It's a tea made from
herbs, a mixture of herbs.

In Italy, it's a very ancient art

With endless variations in flavor
and strength and purposes, etc.

Some of it for pleasure,
some for the health.

Ambrose loved it, and if you
like it, we'll have it again.

For this young man it must
always be for pleasure.

For I can imagine no one standing
less in need of more health.

Have you ever had an
illness in your life.

Not that I can remember.

Doesn't it worry you?

Why should it?

Because such people are so often the
first to go when finally they are stricken.

Haven't you heard that?

I'm unalarmed by the situation.

It is probably all this violent
riding and walking and swimming

That young Englishmen do. It develops
the wrong portion of the body.

Now. In Italy...

Would you figure this Philip?

Guido and I have a good deal of
rather dull business to discuss.

And I believe it can be done
more conveniently upstairs.

Certainly.

Will you join us later?

I'm afraid not, thank you.
I'm rather tired, really.

If you change your mind,
come in at any time.

It is very kind of you to have
me as a guest in your home.

I trust that... You'll be comfortable.

And I must thank you, too for
all you have done for your cousin.

She wrote to me about the allowance.

You might be pleased to know
that that was precisely what

She had planned for you, if
the other will had been signed.

What other will?

She didn't tell you?

No one's told me of any other will.

Then perhaps I shouldn't
have mentioned it.

Nevertheless there was one,
with a more normal arrangement.

He left all this, the
entire estate, to his widow.

But unfortunately by the
time it was drawn and copied

Orlando's collapse was complete
and it was never signed.

You still have a copy though, of course.

No. We destroyed it.

You'll pardon me. May I ask you
what sense you use the word "we?"

Is it royal or domestic?

Neither, sir, it's legalistic.
For lawyer and client.

Though I confess, I expect some day to be
able to use it in a sense more intimate.

When that day comes I shall, of
course, be happy to congratulate you.

Thank you, sir. Your graciousness
helps me to understand

We both regret your
cousin will leave here.

If and when she does?

I understand.

Goodnight, sir.

Goodnight.

You'll have to go further
than this to skip me.

How did you know I was here?

You're always here when
you're angry with me.

We'll have to go back. It's
far too cold for you here.

Not if we sit close, and
you put your arms around me.

You didn't come to say goodnight.

You didn't really expect me to.

I waited up for you till after eleven.

With your friend?

A good hour after I�d
sent him up to bed.

Is that true?

But of course. Why do you ask that?

Where is he now?

On his way back to London.

I'm terribly sorry.

You're a goose.

You really do think
me a fool, don't you?

I told you not to say that. It's absurd.

I become fonder and fonder of
you, in fact, each day that passes.

And each day that passes, I�m more and more
determined that I shall never let you leave here.

Date it today, if that's necessary, but make
it effective tomorrow, which is my birthday.

Very well,

At midnight tonight, the
property becomes mine absolutely,

And there can be no objections whatever
from anyone as to what I do with it.

I've never heard of such
anything before in my life.

Never!

You mean you've never before
heard of a wrong being righted.

You're quite determined on this?

Quite.

Does she know about it?

Nothing whatever. The idea
is mine and mine alone.

But isn't it possible you could satisfy your
love or your conscience or whatever it 'tis

With something less
than the entire estate?

But suppose this was what
Ambrose himself intended.

Until he became too ill to arrange it.

We don't know that. Not for a fact.

No, but I knew Ambrose, and so did you.

Would he have done anything
less for the woman he loved?

No. Not if he still loved her.

If you let me sign?

I'm sorry Philip,

But I can't help regarding
this as the completest folly.

I wish now she'd never come to England.

Ah, but if there's nothing
I can say to dissuade you

Sign here and I�ll witness it.

There are some women,
good women very possibly.

Who, through no fault of
their own, impel disaster.

Whatever they touch,
somehow turns to tragedy.

Rachel.

Wake up, Rachel

This is not the time for sleeping, girl.

Wake up and come to the window.

Or do you want me to
come in and wake you up?

Dear, Philip.

Yes, Rachel.

What are you doing at this hour?

I wanted you to look at the moon, and
smell the fragrance of spring in the air.

But you've been drinking.

Only at the springs of love.

Here, catch this.

I'll do no such thing!

Catch it, I tell you.

I do believe you must be really mad.

Now pull it.

It's heavy.

Pull hard.

What is it?

I'll show you.

You idiot! You'll
fall and hurt yourself.

Only a clod would walk
up stairs on such a night.

A man in love would scale the wall.

Oh, do be careful, please!

Have you taken leave of your senses?

Perhaps. And never happier.

Please, Philip. You can't do this.

You must leave at once.

Don't you know what the day is?

It's not day to begin with.

And if it's your birthday you
mean, that's not till tomorrow.

And when, pray, do you
think tomorrow begins.

Now, Philip, you can't mean...

Listen!

So now it's all yours?

No.

Yours.

I'm cold.

Stand by the fire.

You remember what your
mother used to tell you?

What must happen on a birthday.

Your hair is wet.

I've been swimming in the sea.

Philip, how could you in this weather?

Do you remember?

No, but it was something
foolish, I�m sure.

Well, on a man's birthday,
his every wish must be granted.

No, no, that's not it at all.

That's exactly what you
told me not two weeks ago.

Only up to the age of ten.

There was no such restriction as that.

Then there is now. Up to the
age of ten and not one day older.

Very well, then, suppose
this time we reverse it.

The celebrator will try
to grant you every wish.

Whatever you want.

Home.

Money.

Perhaps these to help
you, while you decide.

Are you out of your mind, Philip?

No, and far from it.

It's only that it's my 25th birthday,
and everything I have is yours.

Let me have your hand.

And this.

This.

And this.

And

This.

This is impossible, darling.

No. This is right.

They belong on you.

And as to this.

You can read it later.

What is it?

Take it.

No, Philip.

This home. This land. Everything.

Which had always been yours, anyway.

Philip, darling.

If I owned the world,
it would be yours, too.

And all I have for you

Is a little pin for your cripethet.

Blessed creature.

Remember once I told you

There was nothing else
I needed in the world but

The warmth and comfort
of these four walls.

I remember.

I was wrong.

I know now that it is something else.

Are you very sure of that?

More sure than of anything else on earth

Of all his willfulness,

Of all that he provokes
and bewilders me at times

My regard for you, Philip,
only increases with the years.

Your errors have never
been mean nor selfish,

My guardianship is ended
today but I rejoice to think,

You will never cease to be my godson.

To your five and twenty years, dear boy.

Long life and happiness.

To you, Philip, Philip.

Thank you, ladies.

My dear Louise. My dearest Rachel.

Now I, too, have a toast that
I wish you to drink tonight.

Since this morning I�ve
been the happiest of men.

I want you, godfather and you Louise,

To drink to Rachel,
who is to be my wife.

Have you lost your senses, Philip?

Uh..

I'm sorry if it was premature
to break the news, but

It's my birthday, and
these are my oldest friends.

I hope you can forgive this
piece of schoolboy folly

And forget it if you can.

The day and the wine seem to
have gone to Philip�s head.

He'll apologize for his insuffigate.

Shall we go to the drawing room

I thought you�d one to bed.

Not before I had
begged your forgiveness.

Then you may go now,

Before you think up some
other mischief to do.

I won't betray us, believe me.

Betray us. What an
shameful thing to say.

You make me feel like a backstairs servant
creeping up to some attic with a groom.

Will you let me pass, please.

You know better than that, I�m sure.

I said, will you let me pass?

Nobody said you were ashamed or angry
last night when you gave me your promise.

What promise?

To marry me, of course.

I promised to marry you last night?

But you couldn't possibly
have misunderstood.

What else could I�ve been asking that
meant everything in the world to me.

Whatever you may have thought.
I gave you no such promise,

Nor anything like it.

Then, then, let me ask you now
in the plainest of language.

Will you marry me?

No, Philip, and you may take
that as final and forever.

Now, will you let me pass?

But you loved me. I know you did.
It couldn't have been pretense.

That was last night, Philip,
and you had given me the jewels.

I was trying to be what else handicaff

You have my heart, my mind, the
property, the money, the jewels

My name you already had.

Now leave me. You understand?

What are you going to do, lecture me?

No. I just thought you
might want to talk about it.

It was my fault, last night.

I don't believe that.

What you said was the truth.
Otherwise you wouldn't have said it.

I know that.

I misunderstood her.

You may have,

But not I. Ever.

How do you mean that?

Why do you think she came here,

All that long distance from Florence?

I should think all that was obvious.

It was a pilgrimage to Ambrose�s home.

No, no, Philip. It wasn't sentiment

And it wasn't idle curiosity.

She'd quite another purpose in
mind and now it's accomplished.

I don't know what you're talking about.

If you had been older or stronger,
she'd have never stayed here.

She'd have called in my father,
settled for a sum, and gone on her way.

Can't you see that yet?

If that's what you asked me here to tell me,
there's not need to continue this discussion.

You've never liked her
from the day she arrived.

Then why has she been
sending her allowance

Out of the country month
after month this whole winter?

How can you say a thing like that? When
you couldn't possibly know it for a fact.

But I do say it, and it is a fact.

Do you suppose my father and the bank

Don't know what she's
been doing with her money?

But what if she did?

She had debts in Florence.
I've known that all along.

But now don't you see, she no longer
any need to bleed you bit by bit.

Because suddenly you've given her
exactly what she set out to get.

Everything.

May I see you to your carriage?

Do you really love her, then, that much?

I've already asked
her to marry me twice.

And when the time is right,
I intend to ask her again.

I simply cannot believe...

She'll never marry you, Philip.

Perhaps not.

Do you know why she brought
that document to my father?

Yes. Some of it wasn't
altogether clear to her.

One point in particular.

Which was that?

The conditions of remarriage.

There can't have been any
misunderstanding about that.

It states simply that if she

Remarries while I�m alive, the
estate simply reverts to me.

If she married me, the condition
would have no meaning actually.

Why wouldn't it?

Because she'd still share in
it? It would be ours together.

You're certainly can't be suggesting
that she'd refuse to marry me

Because she'd no longer
own the whole property.

No, but remember this

A wife may cannot take her husband's
money into another country, such as Italy.

Nor can she, herself, wander away
whenever the impulse seizes her.

Beyond that, I suggest nothing.

Good day.

Oh, Philip, how can you be so blind?

How can you let yourself be
torn and shamed and humiliated?

How can I tell you?
Don't you understand?

Because I love her and nothing else!

It isn't a little
loving. It isn't a fancy.

It isn't something
you'd turn on and off.

It's everything I think
and feel and want and know.

And there's no room
in me for anything else

And never will be again.

Now, is it clear to you!

Why three?

The mistress said there'd
be a third for dinner, sir.

Come in.

Come in.

Oh, look Philip.

Mrs. Ashley has found the most
exquisite design for the sunken garden.

It's italian, of course, but

This should be, could very well be the
one below this house. Don't you think?

Won't you look at it?

She's so clever, really, to have
found an arrangement so suitable.

Quite nice and charming.

You'll be pleased to hear that Mary�s
going to be with us for a while now.

Oh, and such a surprise, Philip.

When she came to fetch me, the
others were quite green with envy.

Do you play cribbage?

I'm afraid not.

Well, then I�ll teach you.

I'll teach you both.
You'll be wild for it.

Tonight after dinner, if you wish.

May I speak to you alone?

I don't see the need.

You're quite free to say anything
you wish in front of Mary.

Oh, oh, I�m sorry. I
must go to my room anyway.

You needn't really.

Oh, but I must, to get ready for dinner.

Will you leave the doors open
please, so you can hear if I call?

Why, yes, indeed I will.

Why have you done this?

You know perfectly well, why.

You know, quite as well, it
was not in the least necessary.

One such display of violence
is enough, thank you.

I don't think I care to
be alone with you again.

There are matters here
that can't be settled

In a moments conversation
like this with the doors open.

Can't I come back here,

Later in the evening
after she's gone to bed?

No.

How long is she to stay?

As long as I choose.

I won't deny to order her out myself?

I can't really imagine
you're being so impertinent

As to order a guest of
mine out of my house.

Are you ill, sir?

I have a headache.

The ladies are in the drawing room.
Will you be coming down for dinner?

No. No. I'll see you in the morning.

You shouldn't have ridden
out in weather like today.

I knew you'd be sorry for it.

Go away and leave me along.

I'll tell the mistress
that you're not well.

Rachel

Rachel

Mr. Philip.

Mr. Philip.

My headaches.

Has gone promiscuous.

What is it dear?

Rachel

What is it dear?

Send her away, will you?

Isn't the doctor here yet?

I won't harm you, I promise you I won't

Running at midnight, eh?

And in this weather.

He shouldn't have ridden
out yesterday, either.

It's my head!

I've seen this fever before.

I've seen children die of it.

You must do something quickly, doctor.

Is that how I died?

Ambrose!

My dear, Philip.

My headaches.

Ambrose.

I know, dear. I know, dear. But if
you take this, it'll be better soon.

Drink it all.

Don't ever leave me, please.

I won't.

Will you promise?

I promise.

But you promised me,
you'd come back to me.

No, nobody's going.

I won't, darling, ever.

But you said you'd marry me.

No, Guido, I can't.

Not while Philip lives.

My blessed Rachel. I do love you so.

Not more than I love you, dear darling.

Will you marry me, now?

I will.

With the happiest of hearts.

Well. At long last. How do you feel?

Strange.

Very strange.

I shouldn't wonder. You've
been very ill for a long time.

So welcome home again.

How long?

More than three weeks.

It's not possible.

This is a few day's growth.

Good heavens.

Would you like a mirror?

Huh, huh, no thank you.

I feel like rip van winkle.

You'll be all right again, soon.

What was the matter with me?

On the continent, we
called it meningitis

But none of the doctors here,
seemed ever to have heard of it.

And how did they treat it?

We worked it out together.

I told them what I had
seen done, and they did it.

Such as puncturing the
spine, to take out the fluid,

And letting into your blood
a serum I made of herbs.

You don't remember that?

No.

You're an amazing woman.

In what respect, now?

Are you an apothecary, too?

No.

Would you like anything to eat?

No.

But I am thirsty.

Good. ni have a cold drink here.

Made from limes sent down from London.

I feel very sorry for you.

Why for me?

For having such a poor, weak
stick of a husband on your hands.

Are you sure you don't
want me to go with you, sir?

No. It's only to the sunken garden.

I want to surprise Mrs. Ashley.

She said I wouldn't be able to
walk alone for another week yet.

But she's not there, sir. She
drove into Plymouth this morning.

You don't know what
you're talking about.

I heard her make the appointment
with the man in charge.

Come on, don.

How are you, Tamblyn?

Well, sir, thankee.

And glad I am to see you out again.
Looking so wonderful strong, too.

I'm feeling better.

Trevor.

Mr. Philip

What's the matter with the tree? Dead?

No, sir, we're moving
it to the old orchard.

It's getting so big, it's dropping its
seed over the fence into the meadow.

I don't want the cattle
to get hold of any.

The laburnum seed's poison, you know.

Did you know they grow in Italy, too?

Really, sir?

Yes, I remember now. I saw several
in Mrs. Ashley's grounds in Florence.

Must be wonderful climate. I can understand
the mistress wishing to return there.

But she doesn't anymore.

No, sir? I'm glad to hear that.

We hear different.

That she was just waiting to see
you get well again before she went.

No, this is to be her home from now on.

Have you seen her this morning?

Not this morning, sir.

Good morning, Collin.

Oh, Mr. Ashley, sir. I must say it's
good to see you out and around again.

Very much, indeed.

How's it coming along?

Oh, well enough I suppose, sir.

But it's going to be more of
an undertaking than we thought.

And how's that?

The underpinnings are rotten, sir.

They'll have to be replaced.

Can you brace it for the time being?

Well, we can on Monday, sir. When
we get some more timber up here.

But meanwhile, I think you should warn
everyone in the house not to use it.

That's a long drop down
there to those rocks.

I will, though nobody
ever uses it anyway.

Did you tell Mrs. Ashley?

Why, I haven't seen her, sir.

I expected her, but she hasn�t
been around here this morning.

Uh.. All right, I�ll tell her.

Thank you.

Good evening, Seecombe.

Good evening, ma'am.

Philip, dear, I�m so
pleased to see you down here.

Not only down here, but
about on the grounds, too.

Alone?

Yes. I looked for you.

I'm terribly sorry.

I went into bodmin to do some shopping.

I should have told you.

Bodmin?

Yes, I needed some lace.

But, I thought you said Plymouth?

I'm sorry sir, I had it from wellington who
thought that it was to be Plymouth again.

I tried to last week, but I
couldn't find what I wanted.

What about the headache?

No, none today. Not
the least sign of one.

Oh, I�m so glad.

First day this week without one.

Perhaps they're all done, at last.

I hope so.

I heard some gossip today,
that I don't quite like.

What are they saying now?

That you're going back to Florence.

Of course. But not till you're well.

You mean you going
back to sell the villa.

On no, there's not need to do that now.

I can afford to keep it now.

Then why would you be going?

Can't we wait until you're
better, to discuss that?

You mean you'd want to
spend the winter there?

Possibly, or the late summer.

There's a good deal of work
piled up here since I�ve been ill.

I don't know that I should
leave here as soon as that.

I don't know that you should, either.

But you might like to come
down in the spring for a visit.

I must still be
somewhat slow-witted, but

Is that how you expect us to live,
with long separations and visits.

Please, Philip, I�ve asked you
not to talk about the future, yet.

We still have all the
time in the world for that.

But I promise you, I�ll not leave
here until you're entirely well.

Why should you leave here at
all? This is your home now?

But so is Florence.

That's where most of my friends are.

My villa and a certain life that I�m more
accustomed to actually than the life here.

I'm sure you must understand
that I can't help but miss it.

I suppose so.

I just hadn't thought of it like that.

I find I am a little tired after all.

You poor dear. Of course you are.

Come on. We'll go up together.

This is our home, really.

Our true home.

Don't you feel that?

It's a warm and comfortable room.

Someday we'll going to set a
metal plate on the wall here.

Here Philip Ashley first set
eyes on his cousin Rachel.

I think you should go now.

Come here.

Why must I? Never.

Please, Philip.

My room is all the lonelier
to be sung the area of the ear.

I wish that we could tell them now.

Tell them what?

That we're married now.

But we're not, Philip.

But, of course we're married.

On my birthday.

You can't have forgotten!

It 'tis true.

Isn't it?

It would have been better
if you'd let me die.

If you say things like
that, they destroy me, too.

Why didn't you tell me?

I couldn't. Not while
you were so ill and weak.

You'll understand, I�m
sure, when you're well.

And it all seemed so important then.

Soon you'll recover soon, and
you'll swim and sail in the bay

And you'll be back
about your work again.

And in a little while, everything will
seem to you just like it was before I came.

You really believe that?

If I didn't, I don't think I should
ever have another moment's peace of mind.

Is it Rainaldi?

No, Philip.

I know it is. It's always been Rainaldi.

Let's not go through all that again.

Ambrose knew it, too.

You've no right to
pry into such matters,

But I�ll answer you nevertheless, just
as I answered Ambrose, who hated him, too.

Guido's a friend to see me
through every trial and trouble.

You must never misjudge me, or try
to see me as other than as I am.

He knows all my faults and weaknesses,
but has never condemned me for them.

And without his help, I should
have been lost time and again.

He's my only true friend.

But friend only.

I'd better leave now, don't you think

After this, could there be anything
but unhappiness for both of us?

Where is he now?

Guido?

In Florence, I imagine.

When have ever you told me anything...

Any single word since
you came into this house,

But lies?

Who's that?

Thank you, Seecomb.

One of the many advantages of
being in the service, Seecombe is,

That you not called upon to listen to a
scolding from the pulpit every Sunday morning.

How do you feel, this morning?

Better, thank you.

Good to see you on your feet, Philip.

There's whisky in the library, nick.

Thank you, my dear.

I'm leaving this evening, Philip.

There's a vessel sailing in the
morning and I booked passage on it.

Don't you think we might be
friends for the last few hours?

Of course, we must be.

There's an italian
saying that Ambrose loved:

Remember only the happy hours.

That, I think, is the
way it should be with us.

It's a beautiful thought.

And in spite of everything, we've
had many together, haven't we?

Very happiest.

Let me kiss you.

There are still moments when I could swear
that Ambrose lives all over again in you.

Philip! How much better you do look.

Thank you.

Gracious, he does, by George.

The last time I saw him,
he looked quite green.

Tell me, how do you feel?

Ever so much better, thank you.

Ah, that's splendid, splendid.

Now, my dear, come, come.

My dear, Louise.

Are you sure you're
quite up to all this?

It's precisely what I need,
all my old friends again.

Good.

Louise.

Are you staying to dinner?

The vicar's got a service, and
father's going down to the farm.

Then you must make some
excuse to stay here.

I want to see you alone.
It's very important.

I'll arrange it.

Time enough for that when I�m gone.

This is my last Sunday here, and I
want it to be as happy as my first,

With only Philip�s and Ambrose�s
dearest friends around me.

Are they gone?

All but miss Louise.

Worthington can drive
me home later, can't he?

Of course.

You read italian, don't you?

Yes, but not very well, I�m afraid.

There's a letter her somewhere in italian
I want you to read for me if I can find it.

They're very dear people,
particularly Leptkin.

And I�m going to miss
her more than I can say.

This is for you, Louise.

What is it?

It's my special tisane for Phillip.

I want you to watch how I make.

The english way, if there should be an english
way, which I rather doubt, is to use pure barley.

I brought my own dried
herbs from Florence.

If you like the taste, I�ll leave
some of them here for you, too.

In Florence I used to brew my tisane
in my room and let it stand for a while.

Then Ambrose and I would go
out into the courtyard and sit

And talk and play. It was
very pleasant and peaceful

Sipping it slowly, while the
water dripped into the pool

Often until after midnight.

I wonder, Philip, if we couldn't make just
such a pleasant place in the sunken garden?

Where we might sit in the afternoons.

If I could find another little
statue, like the one in the cor...

No. Thank you.

Now Philip, really. You can't
refuse this last cup with me.

It's your own brew.

You drink it for me.

No. It's a pity to waste it.

But mine's already poured
with the sense of my taste.

Yes, Seecombe?

The man from the bank is here, ma'am.

Oh, yes. Show him into the office.

Yes.

Will you excuse me for a moment?

I have this one last paper to sign.

It's a letter from Rainaldi.

I'm certain it's in her room somewhere.

I have no idea how it can be managed,

But I should like desperately to
get hold of that letter and read it.

Why, what's happened?

I haven't the time to explain.

But I�m convinced now
that Ambrose was right.

She not only murdered him, but
she's done her best to kill me, too.

Philip, you can't be serious.

Every word you uttered in the
church that afternoon was the truth.

And with that letter I�m
positive I can prove it.

But not murder, surely.

How else could she marry her lover and
still keep possession of the estate?

Wasn't that the particular point
you were going to be sure of?

You're in a very bad humor today.

And I�d like to think
it's because I�m leaving.

In any case I can't go away

Without trying to do
something for your sufferings.

What is it?

A mixture for your tisane.

And I want your promise that you'll
take it tonight before going to bed.

Will you?

If you insist.

I do.

It's helped you before.
And it'll help you again.

Now. Who'll walk with
me to the sunken garden?

I've just thought of a little
statue I can get in Florence.

And I want to make sure in my mind
how it'd look from the other side.

If you don't mind. Louise
must leave in a few minutes.

I promised to show her
an old map of the estate

That some brought to Seecombe yesterday.

Of course. You should.

Come on.

Stand by the window and watch.

I'm going to find that
letter if I have to...

I'm frightened, Philip.

Unless, of course,
unless she's destroyed it.

Rainaldi� s been here
all the time, you know.

In Plymouth.

She's been seeing him for weeks.

She lied about that business,
and she's lying about...

Here's an odd one.

It's a receipt from the bank.

She sent them back
the jewelry collection.

Then she's not taking it with her.

Very clever of her.

Did you look all through the desk?

Of course.

Have you looked in the blotter?

Here.

What does it say?

Rachel, love, my ship
sails Saturday midnight.

If I don't see you again before then I�ll
leave defeated but with no reproaches.

I shall continue to serve you with love
and friendship as long as I shall live.

As for that boy, if he's so much in your
heart that you cannot bear to leave him,

By all means bring him
back to Florence with you.

We'll nurse him back to health.

Guido.

Oh, my god!

What is it, Philip? What have you done?

Go to the bell rope at the foot
of the stairs to call the men in.

Yes.

Go and pull it.

Ring it hard! If something�s
happened I may need help!

I'm coming, darling. I'm coming.

Rachel, darling. Please. Please!

Rachel.

Rachel!

Why did you do it?

Blessed Rachel.

Only you can know now

This burden that I must
carry to the end of my days.

This question that I must
ask myself, again and again

Every day of my life.

Never to be answered, now

Until we meet at last in purgatory.

Were you innocent or were you guilty?

Rachel, my torment.

My blessed, blessed torment.