Original subtitles

Do you know what it is to dig a man out of a grave?

It's Lucie...

your daughter.

I don't care about your secrets.

I don't care who you were.

We should rest.

- Why are we stopping? - There's something I have to do.

We barely escaped the city,

and then you're leaving us.

If I have to do this alone, so be it.

My father back.

That's all I ever wanted.

- Juliette!

You have a visitor.

I told him you weren't receiving any callers...

I've ambushed you.

Again.

Your father...

is he safe?

Inside,

sleeping.

Ha...

I'm glad to hear that.

And to see you.

Is that it?

You've come all this way just to ask after my father

and hold my hand?

A chance.

That's all I'm asking.

To show you who I really am.

These are just words.

Easy words.

You ran.

You put my father in danger. Do you expect me to forget that?

- No. I... um... er... - You betrayed my trust.

After everything I told you,

- everything that we... - You're right. You're right.

I'm sorry.

More than I can say.

I'm going to stay.

Here, in London.

No more running.

Why make yourself a promise you cannot keep?

Mr. Darnay.

I've had a long journey.

Well, have a drink with me, then.

If it's not too early for you.

- Tomorrow? - No.

See my friend.

He'll pay.

How much do you owe?

Not enough to get barred. At least not today.

Mother's ruin.

Might pack a little more punch than you're...

Why'd you come back to London?

I had a reason.

I thought I did.

And now?

My turn.

What were you doing outside her house?

She asked me to call on her.

Oh.

What does she need with a lawyer?

She doesn't.

Huh.

You know, you remind me of someone.

- An enemy? - An uncle.

He wears the same armor.

Ennui. Apathy.

It's all a mask.

You know, I've faced dozens like you in court.

Sleek.

Perfume-typed.

Chests out.

Noses in the air.

You think you have the measure of me?

I might surprise you.

You're about to tell me you're a man of honor.

Well, it's not a dirty word, Mr. Carton.

Then why did you abandon her?

I had a debt to pay.

Perhaps we're not so different.

I have unpaid debts all over town.

Shall we get another?

- One, two, three! - Un, deux, trois!

Ah!

One more, one more...

- No, I won't... - Oh! No, no, no, no, no, no,

- no, no, no, no, no, no, no... - No more please.

- ...no, no, no, no, no.

Do you regret it?

Saving my life?

Ah...

Hmm...?

It's what she wanted.

I'm not sure. Yeah.

You might be right.

Not so different, you and I.

What happened between you in Paris?

That's what this is all being for?

You want a confession...

lawyer?

Ask her...

but I don't think you will.

Hmm?

She deserves better.

It's a pity...

not to receive Mr. Carton these last few weeks.

I wonder if he is unwell.

Papa?

Good morning.

So, some tea?

Tea...

Jerry?

What plans do you have today?

Willow bark for inflammation...

...and a turkey rhubarb

as a purgative or to relieve the fever.

Artery forceps...

and a metacarpal saw.

All steel, of course.

Have I forgotten something?

No.

But what is all this?

I thought...

perhaps you and I could...

I'm proficient, a fast learner.

I, I-I've been studying since I was a girl.

- Studying? - I was always careful...

and discreet.

I just wanted to know what you knew.

There was a time--

in my imprisonment,

some nights my desire for vengeance

was almost unbearable.

But then,

I'd imagine your life in London.

My thoughts never rose near the happiness

that I now know with you.

I've forgotten so much...

...missed so much.

I will remind you.

You never came to claim it.

No...

Looked better on you anyway.

My father--

he's recovering well.

I know, um.

You'd be surprised how much can be learned

from the, er, the right servant for the price of a cup of wine.

- Jerry? - Yeah.

You could have called yourself.

Wanted to.

Then why didn't you?

Do you regret what happened between us?

You imagine I do?

Everything that happened, your or I, your father.

Paris,

You worry you acted improperly.

I don't remember it that way.

Even so...

you owe me nothing.

I am...

I'm not a suitor.

I say you are.

Come to dinner.

It's my father, he wants to thank you

for everything you've done for him.

There's no need.

I'm inviting you in, Sydney.

My life.

My family.

- Yeah. - Yeah, no... Oh.

It's exactly what he did.

He fell right into my arms.

- No? - No.

You said you wanted Doctor's rooms amongst them

who can't afford to pay.

I did say it weren't going to be pretty.

The smell in the place.

No good for a doctor's visiting rooms.

I will keep looking.

We'll find somewhere suitable.

No need.

You'll use the house.

Well, you said it to yourself,

this requires the utmost discretion.

And since Lucie will be involved,

gossip will be intolerable.

Thank you.

Lucie...

Who is that?

Papa. Uh,

this is Charles Darnay.

He helped us escape Paris.

Of course.

Monsieur Darnay, I can't begin to thank you.

It was my honor, Doctor.

How are you, Miss Manette?

What are you doing here?

I have a pupil,

across the park.

We must invite Mr. Darnay to dinner.

- Papa, that's... - Tonight, in fact.

We're already hosting Mr. Carton.

I'm sure Mr. Darnay already has plans this evening.

Er...

No.

No plans.

Excellent.

We'll expect you for dinner.

Thank you.

Evening, Memory.

Not much boiling down to do tonight.

I see you've had your bottle.

Where are you off to all tarted up?

Dinner.

- With a client, I hope. - No.

Lucie Manette.

Well...

Oh.

Oh, how do you plan to woo the Titian-haired doll?

Gin house humor?

Tapping at a window at five o'clock in the morning,

your brain frying and sputtering in your head?

This from such a sensitive and poetical spirit.

Yes, well, I make no claim

to be the soul of romance.

And still, I am a tenderer sort of fellow than you.

A luckier one, perhaps.

You were always shouldering your way to the front rank.

I was always nowhere.

- Rust and repose.

And whose fault is that?

Old seesaw Sydney,

up one minute, down the next.

You know, you are and have always been

a problem of carelessness and recklessness.

I make no apology for being incorrigible.

You have no business to be incorrigible.

I have no business to be at all.

Yet here I am--

invited to dinner.

Oh.

But, my dear old jackal,

you cannot be serious about this mincing fool,

- the Manette girl. - Now, careful.

Careful.

Well...

From your most ancient chum,

one who has known you since you were a schoolboy,

stealing communion wine and altar donations,

you, Sydney Carton,

are not made for the likes of Lucie Manette.

Because I do not possess your gallantry.

Because you are a dissolute dog

who has never done any good, or ever will.

You, you live hard.

You do not know the value of money.

Look it in its face, old boy.

You'll knock out one of these days,

- ill and poor. - Hmm...

Then find yourself a landlady to marry.

Oh, better yet--

a nursemaid.

Mix us up a bowl of punch, and I'll, er...

I'll lay out your prospect.

Lucie Manette.

You're a little late to the party, Mr. Carton.

You don't like it?

I've no appetite.

- Huh!

English, please, Papa.

Ah, for the, um,

less educated among us.

Forgive me.

My manners are still locked away

in that miserable cell in La Bastille.

You have been a true friend

to me and my daughter.

Mr. Darnay was just telling me he plans to open a school

for London's poorest,

Of course he does.

Sydney...?

W... Where are my manners?

No.

Thank you.

Oh, none for me.

Come now, Mrs. Lorry,

what is a poor widow to do but drown her sorrows?

Forgive me.

I'm unused to such, um...

fine company.

Mr. Carton is a lawyer of some renown here in London.

Without Mr. Carton,

I wouldn't be sat here today.

Even now, I don't know why I did it.

Where do you keep your legal chambers, Mr. Carton,

- The Inns of Court? - Oh, Christ, no.

Can't move for stuffed shirts and snobs. No...

we're opposite a gin parlor just above a knocking shop.

Knocking?

We like to be within easy reach of our clientele.

Men of honor,

like Mr. Darnay here.

I think perhaps some air.

- None for me. - Why?

Why are you doing this?

This is what you wanted, isn't it?

Bring us both here, put on a show.

I should leave.

- No, sit down. - Yeah, sit down.

My father invited Charles.

I could hardly refuse.

- Was I an amusement to you? - Don't.

An idle diversion to pass the time?

Or a dress rehearsal...

for him?

Explain yourself, Mr. Carton.

After dessert, perhaps.

Enough.

Oh!

Mr. Carton...

No. It's nothing.

I apologize if my presence tonight...

Why didn't you just stay away?

I had to see you.

Even if it was to be the last time.

These last weeks...

I've been telling myself...

I was happy,

that my life here was enough.

I owe you an explanation...

and then I'll go.

After I left you,

outside Paris,

I went to my uncle.

He's a nobleman,

a Marquis.

It was the first time we'd spoken since I was a boy.

As a child, he...

He terrified me.

The peasants who worked our land,

he would have them flayed.

To the bone.

Ten years ago,

when I left France,

it was to escape him.

The guilt. The...

the shame of my bloodline.

But then I met you.

And you were so clear.

So unafraid.

I knew I had to confront him.

Reject my birthright...

once and for all.

And now,

I'm finally free.

Thanks to you.

I am...

sorry...

for leaving you.

I'll never forgive myself.

For throwing away...

what...

No matter.

Say it.

Say it.

I have made many mistakes in my life.

But I only have one regret.

That night...

In the wine shop...

I should have kissed you.

Lucie...

I have no excuses.

Is that your apology?

No, leave with me tonight.

Europe, the Americas, wherever you want.

- You're drunk. - No, no, no.

I am not.

But I miss you and me.

Alone, together.

Nothing else matters.

Tell me you don't feel the same.

You know that I do.

There is more life in you. More...

more goodness than you will admit.

There is a heart...

hidden with deep wounds within it.

I have seen it bleeding.

It is not enough.

I need there to be more...

More than this.

I need it to be real.

Tell me that you understand.

No, I've never truly wanted anything,

- but I want this. - No, you don't.

I want this, I want you.

I want you.

I am like one who died young.

- All my life might have been. - No.

I shall never be better than I am. I, I, I...

I shall sink lower and--and be worse.

- No, Sydney... - And a flung away,

drunken, wasted creature of misuse.

- No, stop... - When you kissed me, here...

You kindled me.

Heap of ashes that I am.

Into a fire.

I can be better.

I can be well, for you.

- You're all I need.

The last dream of my soul.

I would give anything...

Everything--

for you.

The life you love.

But I cannot be all you live for.

You can't ask me to save you, Sydney.

- Aux armes!

Aux armes!

En garde!

Gaspard!

C'est la-bas.

- Je vous en prie. Non. -

Non, pitie!

It belonged to Charles' mother.

She would be very proud,

your mother.

Just as Jarvis would.

As I am.

No father could hope for a better son.

I'm a Darnay,

and today,

a Manette.

Finally, I can bury the name Evremonde...

...once and for all.

The life ahead.

Evremonde.