Original subtitles

Enter if you must.

Just cease that damnable tapping.

You knock like a woodpecker,

and it just hammers right through my brain.

You knock like a man with a big boom-boom-boom

and I'm fine,

but this little birdy tippy-tappy, tippy-tappy

is like to make my eyes pop out of my head.

Come on in and sit by the fire

where I can see you.

My eyes are not so sharp anymore.

Mrs. Carnation?

Depends on who asks.

My name is Edward Ralston.

Handsome man.

You are Mrs. Carnation...

the necromancer?

Been many a long year

since anybody called me that.

But you are she.

Let's... say I once was she.

Madam, I am in desperate need of your help.

I cannot help the likes

of a prosperous young gentleman like you.

But I was told you could raise the dead.

Well, you was told wrongly.

You cannot raise the dead?

I will not raise the dead.

Not even for so comely a gentleman

as yourself.

Madam, I have just come from the funeral

of my beloved wife Samantha.

A lovelier or more vibrant woman

you could never hope to meet.

I'm sure your wife is all you say she was.

Let her go with God and lie in peace.

I cannot help you.

But you hold the power to bring her back to me,

and yet you refuse.

It's for your own good,

and for my own.

I'm all used up.

Then why not?

Why will you not help assuage my grief?

Why will you not bring back the woman I love to me?

Have you heard the story of Ernst Haeckel?

What has he to do with this?

Oh, young sir,

he has everything to do with this.

If I tell you my story and you still wish

your beloved Samantha

brought back from the dead,

then I will gladly grant you your wish.

Do you mean that?

If your love is so great,

then yes...

I will bring your wife back to you.

No love is greater, I swear to you.

We shall see.

We shall see.

Now...

sit with your back to the fire,

and I shall tell you my tale.

It hurts my neck to look up at you.

Rum?

Ernst Haeckel...

was a medical student

in Massachusetts.

A cocky young man.

Thought he knew it all.

Do go on.

This was some time ago.

50 years or more.

A more naive age.

Not so filled with... answers...

as today.

Here he is:

Man, laid out in his final inglorious chapter.

Devoid of a soul,

all that is left is flesh.

A machine without power,

a mere husk, an empty vessel.

Only God, in his wisdom,

may grant life and take it away.

So you, my young charges,

are the instruments of God's will,

and it is up to you to serve him well.

What has God to do with man?

Ah, our young heathen.

Well, why don't you tell me and the class all about it, Mr. Haeckel.

Man and woman fornicate

to create life.

Accidents, disease,

or old age take it away.

Your God has nothing to do with it.

He is our God, Mr. Haeckel, not my own,

and he has everything to do with it.

There is no man without God.

I am a man without God, Dr. Hauser.

You may think so, sir, but you are wrong.

There is no life without God.

I take it you're unfamiliar

with the recent experiments in Germany,

which have proven otherwise.

I am well aware of the tales

of Victor Frankenstein, Mr. Haeckel,

and they are fairy tales, wishful thinking.

Scripture tells us that the Lord giveth

and the Lord taketh away.

God gives us life,

and once he takes it away, it is gone for good.

And you believe that there is no life

after death?

Oh, I believe in an afterlife, sir,

but not in the reanimation of a human corpse.

Then what on earth do you celebrate

every Easter Sunday?

That is an entirely different matter,

young man.

God may resurrect. Man may not.

And I believe that you are wrong, sir.

What you believe is entirely

of no consequence to me, my young freethinker.

Why don't you tell it to our poor Mr. Willaby here?

I can prove it, Professor.

I'm sure that you can inseminate, Mr. Haeckel,

much as that might distress me,

but it is God, and God alone,

who grants us the spark of life.

No, Professor.

I mean that I can give life to the dead.

Well, I should very much like to see that.

I imagine that you should.

This unfortunate young woman

died of consumption

just over a week ago.

How did you acquire her body?

Does it really matter?

It matters a great deal, young man.

And how does the university acquire its cadavers?

From accredited legal sources.

Your father is a pious and wise man, Mr. Haeckel.

Surely he does not approve of this blasphemy.

You know nothing of my father!

My father approves of the truth.

I have been following the notes of the German scientist

quite specifically,

and I have been able to harness

the electrical power of the lightning.

My challenge has been

to channel that power

through these copper ropes

and into the body,

and thereby ignite the spark of life.

Ha!

This girl shall live again.

Now...

watch... this!

Ohh!

Look!

Well, it appears divinity's still

a long ways off for you,

is it not, Mr. Haeckel?

Quiet!

May God forgive you, sir.

I am so sorry.

Oh. Hello, Chester.

Good evening, sir.

How fares your father, the older Dr. Haeckel?

I'm hoping his condition is better.

He's not well, Chester.

Not well at all.

Well, please give him my best wishes

and salutations for me, will you, sir?

Oh, my.

Is that...?

Still dead, eh, Mr. Ernst?

You're lucky I'm here.

Got some good beef with me tonight.

Pneumonia. Just last night.

And a real bargain at $10.

Not tonight, Chester.

Money's tight, is it, Mr. Ernst?

Always. 1,000, 100,

even $10.

I've failed.

The key to life after death

is still beyond my reach.

Well, chin up, sir. You're a young man.

You'll surely figure out

the mysteries of life and death

before you shuffle off this mortal coil. Right?

I'm in no mood for sarcasm, Chester.

Sarcastic? Me?

Yes, Chester, you.

Well, if it's life after death you seek,

should you not speak with the necromancer?

I place no faith in magic and the supernatural.

I believe in science, not fairy stories.

Well, Mr. Haeckel,

I am a simple, uneducated man.

Science and magic seem one of a kind to me.

I saw Montesquino the necromancer

down to the park of a weekend,

and his magic seemed pretty scientifical

to me, young sir.

He made the dead rise.

But as I said,

I'm not so sophisticated as you.

But I think that we should be careful

when we talk about necromancers.

Why should we be careful

talking about a little English prick

who preys upon our women?

Good Lord, he practically steals from their purses.

Claiming he can raise the dead.

And how do you know he cannot?

Why you, not he?

Science, Chester,

not balderdash.

I believe the evidence of my eyes, young master,

and I saw what I take to be proof

that such crafts

as this Montesquino professes are real.

I should not dismiss it out of hand.

Mayhaps you should see for yourself.

What is the line between life and death,

between darkness and light,

between existence and infinity?

I am here to tell you

that the dead can live again!

I possess that mystical secret

held until now

only by the sacred shaman of Zanzibar.

It came to me at great cost.

And it is a power that I do not use lightly.

With power comes responsibility.

For each life I grant

takes a year off my own.

But because of the sacred trust I hold,

it is well worth it.

I sense disbelief among you.

Young man.

I gather an educated man such as yourself

would require proof of such a proclamation.

I would indeed, sir.

And what would convince you of my powers?

Not this sideshow,

Professor Montesquino.

I ask you again, sir.

What proof would you require

that I tell the truth?

Nothing less than to see

the dead revived before my own eyes.

Then you shall have it, young man.

Behold!

Death!

Oh, my goodness.

This miserable cur is dead, is he not?

Quite dead, sir.

Behold.

Life after death.

You do believe your own eyes,

don't you, young man?

To resurrect a simple beast

is not nearly so taxing as bringing back

a human being, a man with a soul.

Compared to that,

this is merely a parlor trick.

Man is far more complex.

Are you saying a dog doesn't have a soul?

I am, young sir.

Professor Montesquino.

Yes, my good man.

My wife and I,

we lost our little girl

to diphtheria in the summer.

She was but three years old.

We wondered if you could--

Do you have $100?

Oh, no, sir. Nowhere near.

Well, how much do you think

a year of my life is worth?

I wouldn't know, sir.

I should say it's worth more than $100.

Could you get $100?

We were hoping that as a good Christian,

you might find it in the goodness--

I'm sorry.

Find $100,

and I'll bring your little girl back to you.

I regret I'm not a charity.

And now, who would like to have

their late bereaved loved ones

back in their arms again?

Huh?

What about you, young man?

Montesquino.

Ah. The young doubting Thomas.

A good evening to you, sir.

And to you.

As delighted as I am to see you,

I'm having my supper.

Perhaps you could return in the morning.

My name is Ernst Haeckel.

I'm a medical student at the university,

and I wish to inquire of your ways.

Ah... a man of science.

Well, perhaps a boy of science.

I'm absolutely thrilled

to meet you, Mr. Haeckel,

but I'm not here to instruct you.

My knowledge came

after many years of intense instruction,

with great risk to my life and limb.

I'm willing to take risks.

Are you, indeed?

The costs are greater

than a bottle of whiskey.

I know you do not believe in my ways,

that you think that necromancy is twaddle.

A sideshow for the gullible, huh?

Is it not?

The dog, an excellent trick.

You threw your voice, did you not?

And the movement of the dead dog,

some sort of puppetry, I'd wager.

You would, would you?

Well, surely necromancy cannot be real.

Well, if you say it cannot,

then it cannot.

Who am I to question

the likes of such a-- a brilliant,

educated young man like yourself?

So you do not even argue with me?

No, sir, I do not.

I'm tired. I need sleep.

Sweet dreams, young man.

And thanks for the bottle.

Mr. Haeckel?

What is it?

I am told it concerns your father.

Thank you.

"My dearest Master Haeckel,

"your father's illness has taken a turn for the worse.

"His malaise has turned much more serious,

"and the prognosis is not optimistic.

"He may only have a matter of days remaining.

"He wishes to see you before he passes.

Sincerely, Dr. Alfred Hartwell."

Life.

And death.

And one day...

I shall make you live again.

Jesus!

My deepest apologies, young sir.

I did not mean to cause you fright.

You startled me.

It would not be good for you

to sleep here tonight.

This is an open road.

I have every right to stay here if I wish to.

Of course you do.

I did not say the right was not yours.

I simply said it would not be wise.

My apologies.

I'm cold and tired and hungry and...

I meant no insult.

None taken.

I am Walter Wolfram.

A pleasure to make your acquaintance.

My name is Ernst Haeckel.

I'm traveling to Windsor.

My father, it seems...

is very ill.

I live nearby.

I can offer you a warm, dry bed,

a proper fire,

some hot potato soup.

An offer I shall not decline.

Many thanks to you, sir.

Why do you think it... unwise

for me to stay in this place?

You are a young man,

and no doubt you do not fear the workings of this world.

But believe me when I tell you

there are nights when it is good

not to sleep next to a place

where the dead are laid.

The dead? Aye.

Their home...

the necropolis.

I'm a medical student.

I do not fear the dead.

Then I suppose you are a lucky man.

Come.

It is not much, but it is warm and dry.

Elise?

Elise, this is Ernst Haeckel.

He will be staying with us tonight.

Mr. Haeckel, this is my wife Elise.

It is a great pleasure to meet you.

Elise, get Mr. Haeckel some wine.

He has been out in the cruelty of the elements

for several days.

Mr. Haeckel is on his way to Windsor.

His father is ill, maybe dying.

I'm sorry.

I hope not dying.

I apologize.

Of course, I misunderstood.

The young man is a student at the university.

What do you study?

Medicine.

I'm studying to be a physician.

To save your father's life?

Yes. Yes, I hope so, among others.

Mr. Haeckel needs more wine, Elise.

Of course.

She's lovely, isn't she?

She is a very charming woman.

Oh, she's much more than that, Mr. Haeckel.

And it would not inflame me for you to say so.

I know what you are thinking.

How can I, an old man with a small farm,

deserve this lovely young lady as a wife?

I thought nothing of the sort.

Liar.

Sir, I beg--

I do not take offense.

Let me just say this.

The ways of love are mysterious.

Are you a married man, Mr. Haeckel?

No, sir. I am quite unattached.

Are you in love?

Not at present, no.

Have you ever been in love?

I have not had the pleasure

or the time.

Elise, the young man has no time for love.

Yes.

Bring us more wine.

And join us.

I believe I've had enough wine.

Nonsense.

It is no substitute for love,

but it will warm you on a cold, wet night.

Right, Elise?

You have never known love?

Only fleetingly, I'm afraid.

Better fleetingly than not at all.

Eh?

Mr. Haeckel is a fine-looking young man.

Is he not, Elise?

Yes.

A very handsome man.

The most eligible of bachelors.

A shame.

Surely you have experienced...

physical love.

Have you not, Mr. Haeckel?

I'm sorry, sir,

but your question breaches propriety.

Let us just blame it on the wine, shall we?

I'm feeling very tired, sir.

I should like to go to bed, if you don't mind.

Of course not.

Elise, make up the bed for Mr. Haeckel.

Good night, sir.

I-- I hope you'll be comfortable here.

I'm sure I will be. Thank you.

Certainly better than under an old oak tree

in the rain.

What are you looking for?

You are such a lovely woman, Elise.

I...

I must go now.

Thank you for coming.

It's all there.

Right.

Is she ready?

Yes.

Make sure he has had enough before you put him down.

I don't want him waking and crying for you

after you are gone.

Can't you stay?

It's been a full year,

and I cannot take it any longer.

Mr. Wolfram.

What is it that troubles you?

Oh, my friend,

I cannot begin to tell you.

Would you prefer

that I leave you alone to your tears?

No.

I do not want you to go out after her...

now.

The man...

who came to the door.

Who is he?

His name is Montesquino.

Dr. Montesquino.

He is... an acquaintance.

And a friend

to your wife?

No. It is not what you surmise.

Elise has no interest in the company

of Dr. Montesquino, believe me.

Nor in any visitor in this house.

Sir, if you mean--

Do not concern yourself.

I took no offense

at the looks you gave my wife.

How could you not?

She is a beautiful woman.

But let me tell you, my friend...

you could never...

satisfy her.

Neither, of course, could I.

When I married her, I was already too old

to be a husband to her in the... truest sense.

But you have a child.

The boy...

is not mine.

And where is the father?

I'm afraid... he's dead.

Then you are a very noble man.

I am guilty of many things,

but I have never been accused of nobility.

She so loved her husband.

Still does to this day.

No other man could ever fulfill her.

I have met...

this Dr. Montesquino.

He claims to be a necromancer.

The man is a charlatan.

The esteemed Dr. Montesquino

deals in a science

which I do not profess to understand...

but the man is not a charlatan.

Have you paid this necromancer

so that Elise could talk to the dead man

who fathered her child?

And now Montesquino is going to play

some miserable trick on the poor Elise,

to make her believe

that she is talking to a dead spirit?

It is no trick. Would that it were.

What the man does is real,

I'm afraid to say.

Which is why you should stay here

until it's over and done with.

It is nothing you should ever--

Listen to her.

Better not.

But she is in pain.

I'm going after her.

She still loves him.

Haeckel!

Listen to me, Haeckel!

Elise, she has a sickness.

She had it when I first met her.

What did I know? I loved her.

I sold everything I had to try to grant her this.

I-- I want to make her happy.

Well, she doesn't sound very happy now.

No, it's not what you think!

And what do I think, old man?

Well, it is, and it isn't.

Oh, God. Please, come back to the house.

I said no!

I'll not have her molested by that man.

You don't understand.

Nor do I want to.

We couldn't begin to satisfy her--

neither of us!

So you hire Montesquino to service her?

Jesus, man! Oh! Unh!

Stop! I'm begging you!

Stay away from the necropolis.

Bastard!

What kind of a husband are you to her?

I beg you cease, Mr. Haeckel.

You are stepping into another world

you should never enter!

Aah.

Good Lord.

I recognize this pitiful cur.

Poor beast.

Uhh!

Put the poor beast out of its misery.

Die, damn you.

It is already dead, Haeckel.

You cannot kill it again.

That's impossible.

No. The filthy beast is dead.

So do you see now?

You have no idea

the horrors that await you here.

All the more reason to go to your wife.

All the more reason to stay away.

What kind of a man are you?

You actually paid this Montesquino

to bring back your wife's first husband

from the dead.

You poor fool.

Give me the musket.

Are you not coming?

I dare not

enter the place

where Montesquino performs his dark magic.

So be it.

Uhh! Ohh!

Aah! Uhh! Uhh!

Elise!

Bastard!

Ah, the young doubting Thomas,

come to save the maiden fair, no doubt.

What have you done to her, damn you?

Not to her, young man, for her.

Go, see for yourself.

[both moaning passionately

I warned you.

You knew this was happening.

Of course I knew.

I fear it is the only way she is satisfied.

What is she?

A woman.

A woman in love with a dead man.

Aaaah!

No natural woman could endure that!

Jesus.

Stop!

Do not hurt her.

She is not to blame.

Montesquino.

I am not to blame, either, sir.

I merely did as I was paid to do.

Whatever you did to start this,

undo it!

I cannot, sir.

Make it stop.

I command you!

Or I'll shoot you dead.

I cannot!

Do it.

Elise!

Please, Elise.

You should come home now.

Elise.

Please come home with me.

Elise.

Uhh! Unh!

Please.

Elise!

No! Aah!

Aaaah!

Aaaaaah!

Montesquino!

What does it take to make this stop?

What are the words?

No words.

How do we make it stop?

When...

the sun...

comes up.

Is there no other way?

No.

No other way.

Tell me, you bastard!

Aaaah!

Unh!

Uhh...

♪ Hush, little baby

♪ Don't say a word

♪ Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird ♪

♪ If that mockingbird don't sing ♪

♪ Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring ♪

♪ And if that diamond ring gets broke ♪

♪ Papa's gonna buy you a billy goat ♪

♪ And if that billy goat don't pull ♪

Good morning.

The storm has passed, hasn't it?

It has.

Elise.

Yes?

Last night...

Mmm, last night.

At the necropolis...

Yes. Out in the necropolis.

Walter-- I know.

He's dead.

He was old.

But he was always...

kind to me.

Old men are the best husbands.

As long as you don't want children.

Oh...

this isn't Walter's boy.

He doesn't look anything like Walter.

But he looks just like his beautiful daddy.

See?

Aah!

Would you like to hold him?

Please?

Hold him.

Please.

Aaaah!

Uhh!

Ohh!

And that, my handsome friend,

is how young Ernst Haeckel

finally found the love he sought.

That is the most horrible tale ever told.

Is it?

That the woman would have carnal knowledge with the dead?

Your story is impossible.

It is an affront to God.

So say you,

Mr. Ralston.

May I assume that you could not be happy

to have your wife

return under such circumstances,

that you do not love your wife

that much?

My wife is the spirit,

not the body that holds it.

Just so, kind sir. Just so.

I can return the body,

but I hold no guarantee

for the spirit.

Good God, woman!

There is no God in this simple home, sir.

No God at all.

What is that sound?

What is that horrible sound?

I hear no horrible sound.

How did you come to know this terrible tale?

Sweetheart,

we were just talking about you.

Ohh!

Montesquino taught me so much.

I shall always be deep in his debt.

Aah!

Oh, give me the little darling.

Come to Mommy, sweetness.

Time for supper.

Aah!

Oh, darling.

Gentlemen,

we have a very handsome guest

who claims to love his wife

as much as we love one another.

Mr. Ralston.

You boys can just wait...

until the baby's fed.

Then we can all...

play...

together.