All language subtitles for Alfred Hitchcock Presents - 3x18 - Miss Bracegirdle Does Her Duty.ENG

Good evening.

That sound you just heard
was made by a guillotine.

I brought it home from
a recent trip to France.

We just can't make them
the way the French do.

A motion picture company borrowed it
to use on the adjoining sound stage.

They are shooting a picture about
the tragedy of a rich middle-aged rou�

who falls hopelessly in love
with a woman old enough to be his wife.

Of course they are not using
the guillotine in the picture.

They just happen to have a leading man

who's very vain and exceedingly short.

Every one of the actresses
who reported this morning

was about a head too tall.

We have no such problem.

The leading character in our picture
is an English spinster.

You shall meet her in a moment.

Many of our finest motion pictures
are made from bestsellers.

Here is one made about a bestseller.

Have your tea
before you go, Millicent.

Yes, do.
Yes, I'm going to.

Oh, let me do it
for you, dear.

On your last day
and everything.

You just relax
and calm your nerves.

You sound as though
she were going
to her doom.

Oh, I never meant
such a thing.

You weren't under
the impression, were you,
Dean, that I meant...

No, no. I'm quite sure that
Mrs. Crump was only making a joke.

I didn't say she meant
that Millicent is
going to her doom.

I only said that was
the way she sounded.

I would never say
such a thing as that.

Please, Maude, I should
like it very much
if you would pour it for me.

I am a little nervous,

and I shouldn't
like to spill
anything on myself.

Millicent, if you're really nervous,

perhaps it would be better
if I went along with you.

Oh, but my dear
Dean Bracegirdle, think
of your parishioners.

How they would
miss you.

With such
extensive claims
on your time,

I don't really see
how you could
possibly manage it.

It's only for a few days,
and I'm sure we could
manage quite nicely.

It only wants someone
to organize the thing.

It's sweet
of you dear people
to worry about me,

but I shall be quite all right.

There is nothing alarming
about a simple journey.

And I do speak French, you know.

I think you are
very brave, Millicent.

How fortunate you are
to have such
a lovely sister.

Well, someone has to
meet Clara.
Why?

If she can get to Bordeaux by herself,
why can't she come the rest of the way?

But she's been ill, Mrs. Crump.
That's why she has to come back to England.

Paraguay didn't agree
with her at all.

Millicent, I think
you are intrepid,
completely intrepid.

London to Dover, then
across the Channel
to Calais.

Have you got that bottle of pills
I gave you for seasickness?

Yes, right here, Maude.

Oh, I do think I should be going.

The boat train leaves London
at 8:00, you know.

And then the train to Paris
and then an hour in Paris.

Oh, I could never do it.

And then to arrive
in Bordeaux
at midnight...

How fortunate it is
that you are not
the one who is going, Maude.

I do not approve
of foreigners.

They are
not trustworthy.

I'm sure
some of them
are all right.

Now, you have your tickets all together.
That shouldn't give you any trouble.

Yes.

And you must ask questions
from no one but the police,

or some other proper official.

And please, Millicent,
don't practice your French on strangers.

Of course I shan't.

You know I never address
strangers in a public place.

You know, France is really no country
for a woman to travel about in alone.

I really think perhaps
I shouldn't let you go.

It's much too late to change, Septimus.
I shall be quite all right.

I shall enjoy it.

Goodbye, Mrs. Crump.
Goodbye.

Goodbye, Maude.
Take care.

Yes, I shall.
Goodbye.

Goodbye.
Bye, Millicent.

Is the room
satisfactory
to madame?

Oh, you speak English.

Oh, yes, it's quite
satisfactory.

2:00 in the morning!

I'm dreadfully sorry to have
kept you up so late,

but our train was two hours late.

I comprehend
perfectly, madame.

Does madame require
anything further?

If it isn't too late,
may I have a hot bath?

I will go and prepare it.

Where is the bath?

Go out the door,
turn right,

down the hall
to the little stairs,

turn right, and the bath
is on the left.

Do you understand?
Perfectly.

There is one thing more.

I've had a long journey.
I am very tired. Fatigu�.

Would you see that I am not disturbed
in the morning until I ring?

Certainement, madame.
I'm glad you told me,

because we always bring
caf� complet at 7:30.

Oh, tea for me please,
when I ring.

How depressing
these foreign hotel rooms are!

Nothing like home, nothing at all.

That bed is probably much too soft.

Oh, well, really,
I suppose these people are just like us.

If they had been born
in England and brought up there,

and spoke English instead of French,

why, we probably wouldn't notice
anything different about them.

Oh, dear, I do feel out of place here.

Doesn't seem possible
that in just a few hours

I should have traveled
in such a strange world.

Thank heaven this trip is half over.

I believe I'm a little homesick.

How silly of me. What did I expect?

Perhaps Clara and I could see
a little of bit of Paris on our way back,

instead of spending four hours
sitting in the station.

I shouldn't let myself
be depressed. It's merely nerves.

After all, this is rather an adventure
for someone who has lived

45 years without ever having
gone out of England.

Though why anyone would want to go
out of England I can't imagine.

How unsettling it must be.

Suppose I had married Stephen
and gone to live in Africa.

That would have been
frightfully unsettling.

I would have been happy
to be engaged forever.

Of course, it was only
an understanding,

but after three years, he could have
told me he was going away.

I suppose he couldn't bear to.
Oh, well, that's all in the past.

There is always work
and living for others and doing one's duty.

Oh, I'll have so much to tell Septimus

about the amusing
American child on the train

and nearly losing my spectacles

and meeting
the two English ladies in the station.

And the French people
have really been very nice.

Bother! Oh, bother!
I've pushed the pin farther back.

How very foolish!

I shall have to ring for the chambermaid
and I'm sure the poor girl has gone to sleep.

I mustn't scream. No.

No.

I must get out, get out!

I can't get out!

I'll ring for the...
I'm in the wrong room!

I'm locked in.

Alone in a strange hotel
with a man! A foreigner.

A Frenchman.

If he does wake up,
what shall I do?

How could I possibly explain?
He wouldn't understand a word I said.

No one would believe me.
They're all foreigners.

Oh, merciful heavens,
what shall I do?

No, I can't. It's too far down.

I must get out!
Should I wake him?

Oh, no!

Maybe I should call out?
Oh, no.

The people rushing in and finding me
in a strange man's room after midnight?

Millicent Bracegirdle, the sister
of the Dean of Easingstoke.

Easingstoke! They'd be
certain to hear about it.

Now, I must keep calm.

Perhaps he's quite a harmless
commercial traveler.

The maid will wake him up
with the coffee at 7:30,

and he'll probably get up
and go right out.

If I were in that wardrobe chest,

I should be quite safe till morning.

And I could slip into my room
and no one would ever know.

I shall certainly have
something to tell dear
Septimus when I get home.

In Easingstoke they couldn't possibly
imagine such a thing happening.

Oh, dear.

Suppose he gets up before
the maid comes in.

He'll want his clothes.

Oh, dear, this won't do.

No one would see me under there.

Safe!

Safe for the moment.
But suppose he wakes up and finds me?

My presence under the bed
would be much harder to explain

than my presence by the door.

Oh, dear. I've lost my head.

Oh, if it had only not happened abroad.

This carpet is very dusty.
I don't think they ever sweep under here.

And this floor is so hard...

He'll wake up.
He's certain to wake up!

Well, that's lucky.

I must be sure not to
fall asleep myself.

I must lie here and endure it.

Spirits.

He must be drunk.

Oh, thank goodness.
He must be quite overcome.

Oh, dear, I oughtn't to be glad
the poor man's intoxicated.

In Easingstoke, everyone has
been asleep for hours.

Evening prayer at 9:30
and then cocoa.

And Septimus doesn't dream
I haven't said my prayers tonight.

Why shouldn't I say my prayers?

They will come from the heart,
though I am not kneeling.

Dear God, I can't say them aloud.

Please accept my prayers this night,

for all who are being
tempted to sin.

May they find strength.

For those who are seriously ill,

for those in peril of their lives,

for those who are in trouble
through their own folly.

Please, God, protect me
from the perils of this night

and don't let me cough.

I'm catching cold.
I hope I don't catch pneumonia.

How awful to be taken ill
in a foreign hotel

under a strange man's bed.

He's waiting now.
He's listening.

In a moment he'll get up
and rush over and turn on the lights.

And he'll say, "Come out of there!"

only in French,
and he'll reach in and grab me.

Or he might put his hand
over my mouth.

Chloroform.

He might be waiting
for me to come out.

Oh, this is intolerable.

I can't stand a whole night of it.

Anything would be better
than this disgrace,

imprisonment, even death.

Don't be melodramatic,
Millicent Bracegirdle.

I shall crawl out,
turn on the light and explain.

Explain as best as I can.

What on earth is French
for I've made a mistake?

What is the French for bed?

You're dead.

Oh, this is terrible.

Bad enough to be found in
a strange man's bedroom,
but a dead man?

They might accuse me of murder.
They'll hang me.

Oh, no, this is France.
The guillotine.

Oh, I mustn't let them catch me.

Who would meet Clara?

And what about Septimus,
how would he stand the disgrace?

It's my duty to get away.

There's the doorknob pin.

If only I could pull it
to me with something.

No, that won't do.
It's pushing it farther back.

No, I mustn't give way.

There must be something,
something.

Sealing wax!

Oh, if it only sticks!

It's coming. Oh, I think its coming!

Oh, dear.

But it did come a little way.
Just a little. I could feel it.

I wonder what time it is.

6:30.

The maid will be in
with his coffee in an hour.

It's hopeless.

Oh, thank heaven!
It's over!

I shall never be
the same again, never.

But I'm safe, safe...

Oh! My towel!

My things!

I can't do it, I can't.

No one will know whose they are.
They'll think... I don't care what they think.

Oh, no! My towel
with my initials on it.

They'll know I didn't use
the ones the maid put out for me.

I must...

I must.

Certainly you must,
Millicent Bracegirdle.

This is a mere nothing, compared
to what you already accomplished.

After all,
burglars do it all the time.

All that evidence just
left there for anyone to see!

I must have been out of my mind!

Madame rang?
Yes.

Could I have some tea, please?

Certainly, madame.

Oh, madame,
I have promised not to tell

but a terrible thing has happened.

A man, a dead man,
has been found in room 115. A guest.

Please not to say I tell you.

No, no. Of course not.

When did they discover him?

Early this morning.
They have all been there,

the gendarmes,
the doctor, the inspectors.

Oh, it's been
terrible, terrible.

Oh, it is.

Indeed it is.

Do you know
who he was, madame?

No.

They say it is Boldou,

the man wanted for the murder
of Jeanne Carreton

in the barn at Vincennes.

They say he strangle her

and then cut her up in pieces

and hid her in two barrels

which he threw into the river.

A murderer!

Oh, but he was a bad man,
madame, a terrible bad man.

And he died in the room
next door. A heart attack.

Did you say
caf� complet, madame?

No, tea, please.

Strong tea.

Suppose I had been caught
in the room with a murderer.

It would have been
a sensation in all the papers.

And I should never have
been able to go home.

There would have been
pictures in the papers.

Of me,

the woman who said she was
accidentally locked in the room.

Oh, it's very difficult to judge people.

Perhaps that man was wrongly condemned,

as I would have been if...

One learns and learns.

I have learned that one can
pray just as effectively

under the bed as kneeling beside it.

Foreigners! So indecorous!

Sending a man into a lady's bedroom.
Why couldn't the girl have come back?

Does madame require
anything more?

No, no.

No?

That concludes the life and loves
of the intrepid Miss Millicent Bracegirdle.

As for Monsieur Boldou,
the corpse in the story,

he was buried in accordance
with his last request.

He was cut in pieces,

placed in two barrels
and thrown into the river.

There's been a development next door.

The extras have rebelled
and overthrown the star.

There he goes now.

I'm afraid he's through
being tall in the saddle.

And I'm through being
wide on the screen.

So until next time, good night.