All language subtitles for A Tale of Two Cities (1935) BluRay 720p YTS.MX - YIFY

Get up. Get up. Come on.
Get up. Get up.

Get up there, get up there.

Come on there. Now push hard.

Get up. Push hard. Come on.

Come on there. Come on there.

Blimey. Hey, Joe, what o'clock is it?

Uh, it must be nearly 11.

Eleven, and we ain't atop
of Shooter's Hill yet?

- Push.
- Come on now. Whoa-ho!

Whoa-ho, hey. Come on.

Push, push!

Aye, Joe.

What do you say it is, Tom?

Well, I'd say it's a horse
coming up at a canter.

Well, I say it's a horse
coming up at a gallop.

Gentlemen, in the king's name,
on guard, all of you.

Dover mail? Are you the Dover mail?

Never mind what we are. What are you?

I'm a messenger from Tellson's Bank.

Stand! No nearer.

I wants Mr. Jarvis Lorry.

I've got a message for him from his bank.

Uh, here I am. Is that Jerry Cruncher?

Right you are, sir.

Stop! Keep where you are.

It's quite all right. I know him.

Then step over and
speak to him if you must,

but don't let him come no nearer.

You never know these days.

What is the message, Jerry?

The message is to wait
at the Royal George for mademoiselle.

Ah, she'll be at Dover.

Give this reply to the office, Jerry.

Recalled to life.

Recalled to life.

Right you are, sir.

- Did you hear the message, sir?
- I did.

- What did you make of it?
- Nothing at all.

That's a coincidence too.
That's what I made of it myself.

Now then, gentlemen,
all together, please.

- Hot gravy, sir?
- No, no, no.

The young lady you were expecting, sir.

- Miss Manette.
- Ah, yes.

- She has arrived, sir.
- Good.

It's business. Strictly business.

Of course, sir.

I'm from Tellson's Bank in London

and it is business.

Ah, quite, quite.

I am Mr. Jarvis Lorry, Junior
of Tellson and Company Bankers.

Your humble servant, miss.

Yes, I... I received a letter
from the bank, sir,

informing me that some intelligence,
some discovery...

Uh, the word is not material, miss.
Either one will do.

Are you quite a stranger to me, sir?

Uh, Miss Manette, I am a man of business.

Pay no more attention to me
than if I were a machine.

- I am not much else.
- But I know you.

- I'm sure I know you.
- Yes.

Uh, when you were a little girl,
I was instrumental

in bringing you and your mother
over to England.

Uh, no romance. Uh, business, you know.

No room for sentiment in business.

Yes. That was 17 years ago.

Yes. Uh, I speak, miss, of that time.

Our business today has to do
with your father, Dr. Manette.

- You knew him before he died?
- Before, uh...

Y-y-yes. Yes, he was a client

of Tellson and Company's Paris bank.

I am an arm of that bank.

That is how you will regard me.

A mere mechanical arm
of Tellson and Company.

Mr. Lorry, what have you come to tell me?

Now, let us suppose
that your father had not died.

- Suppose...
- Uh, d-don't be afraid, child.

Mr. Lorry, please
do not keep me in suspense.

What is it?

Uh, if your father had not died,

if he had suddenly
and silently disappeared,

if he had an enemy
who caused him to be imprisoned.

I entreat you, sir, pray, pray, tell me.

No, no, no. Don't kneel, child.

In heaven's name,
why should you kneel to me?

For the truth, oh, dear,
good, compassionate sir,

for the truth.

Mr. Lorry, is my father alive?

Yes, child.

Well, where is he?

Uh, you will find him greatly changed.

A wreck it is probable,

though we will hope for the best.

My father.

My poor, poor father.

Now you know the best and the worst.

You will see this poor,
wronged gentleman then

with a fair sea voyage
and a fair land voyage...

Uh, what is the matter?

Uh, Miss Manette, my dear child.

What are you doing to my Ladybird?

- Oh!
- I-I...

I-I-I had to tell her some news.

You took a fine manner of doing it.

You in brown, why couldn't you tell her

what you had to tell her without
frightening her to death?

See what you've done to her?

You call that being a banker?

I tried to break it as gently as I could.

Gently? I'd like to see you
break things roughly.

Oh, my pretty.

My sweet.

Pross is with you now.

No one can harm you. My darling.

I assure you, madam, I had no intention...

I am not madam.

I'm Miss Lucie's companion,
and I'm Miss Pross.

- But, madam, I assure you...
- I'm... I'm all right.

Of course, you're all right.
It was a shock.

The man has no sense blurting out

whatever he was blurting out
as if he were calling coals.

Please, Miss Pross. Where is my father?

He has been imprisoned
at the Bastille 18 years.

Eighteen years. Gracious creator of day.

To be buried alive for 18 years.

But I entreat you, sir, where is he now?

Uh, an old servant of his,
De Farge, is taking care of him.

- But where? Where?
- In his wine shop in Paris.

You must take me to him at once.

Well, why do you stand there
like a nincompoop?

You hear, don't you?

She wants to be taken to her father.

Isn't it natural she should want
to see her father?

Well, I will, but...

A toast to the king's health.

- There's mud in it.
- There's food in it.

Drink, little one. Never mind the taste.

- How can men bear such poverty?
- Bear it?

Look, they live within
the very shadow of the Bastille.

They have to bear it.

Do not do that, Jacques.

Well, there'll be blood flowing
in these streets before long, De Farge.

Yes, but keep that thought
in your heart, Jacques.

- Don't waste it on the walls.
- You're right, Jacques.

Jacques, where do you want
this wood? In the loft?

Jacques, 116 from Bordeaux.

Welcome, Jacques. Come inside.

A hundred and 16 from Bordeaux, my wife.

Well, Jacques, do you see the way
the spilt wine is being sucked up?

Every drop.

It's not often those poor beasts

know the taste of wine

or of anything but black bread and death.

It is so throughout all France.

Has he seen our tenant upstairs?

Not yet, but I will show him.

Eighteen years imprisoned in the Bastille.

Wait till you see him.

The sight will burn into the souls

of all of the name of Jacques.

Strangers. The rose.

Madame De Farge?

Recalled to life.

Yes, yes. We have some
very fine old wine upstairs.

My husband will show you.

Come.

You were too young to remember me.

I was his servant.

Where... where is he?

Is he greatly changed?

Changed, mademoiselle.

Changed.

You lock him in? Why?

He's lived so long that way
that an open door would...

Is it possible?

All things are possible in France today

just as all things will be possible later.

Don't come in to him yet. Let us go first.

Still hard at work?

Yes, I-I'm working.

These shoes must be done.

You have a visitor, you see.

A visitor.

Show your work to monsieur.

It is a lady's shoe.

It is a young lady's walking shoe.

It is in the present mode.

I never saw the mode.

I did it from a drawing.

Dr. Manette...

do you remember me?

Come, come now.

You remember an old friend
in Tellson's Bank in London?

No.

No.

Who are you?

Who are you?

It is the same...

but how can it be?

It is the same...

but she is dead.

Yes.

My mother is dead, but I am...

Can't you feel who I am?

She had laid her head on my shoulder.

And when I was brought
to the North Tower...

they found hair like this...

on my sleeve.

How was this?

Was it you?

I'm Lucie, her daughter.

Your daughter.

Do you think he's fit
to make a journey to England?

Get him out of France for his sake

and for the sake of
the Jacquerie who rescued him.

- What is this Jacquerie?
- One day you will know.

All France will know.

You're coming with me, Father.

Wait.

Wait.

W-where is the place?

The brick was here by the bench.

It's gone.

What's he looking for?

Something he wrote in the Bastille.

- And it was left in his cell?
- No, we found it.

A reminder of such horror

it's better he should never see it again.

Ah.

Father dear, we shall find it.

You're coming with me now. Home.

Home.

No one saw a coach leave here,
you understand?

Eighteen years in a cell without a trial

because an aristocrat chose to brush
the good doctor from his path.

Too bad we don't know which aristo it was.

But I do know. I have cause to remember.

His outrages against my own family
would never let me forget.

Then you have his name on your register?

He has the place of honor.

The Marquis St. Evrémonde.

Killed.

Dead.

The child is dead, Excellency.

It's extraordinary to me

that you people cannot take care of
yourselves and your children.

One or the other of you
is forever in the way.

How do you know what injury
you might do to my horses?

Drive on, faster.

- Irritating episode.
- Yes.

The marquis drives fast.

We'll drive him fast to his tomb.

Ah, my dear nephew,
what goes forward here?

I'm leaving. I'm going to England.

Really?

Monsieur Gabelle, uh,
when you were my nephew's tutor,

you shouldn't have encouraged him
to be so petulant.

You have made the name of Evrémonde
the most detested in all France.

I can't endure your cruelty
to the peasants.

There is a sickness these days

which labels itself humanitarianism.

You have no pity for those who suffer.

Pity, my dear boy,
is a diseased variety of sentimentality.

Do you pity the swine whose flesh we eat?

The peasants are not swine.

That, my dear Charles,
is where you and I differ.

I'm very much afraid, my good tutor,

that you have taught my nephew
to take the new philosophy

of equality seriously.

Now I enjoy Monsieur Voltaire

and these other modern philosophers,

but I... I take them lightly

and merely as an exercise for the mind.

Most of our lands are stolen.

I intend to see them returned
to the peasants

to whom they rightfully belong.

Really?

You may thank your stars
that you're related to me, Charles,

or you might very well
find yourself in the Bastille.

Monseigneur, I pray you overlook
the impulsiveness of youth.

My dear uncle, I'm not frightened
of anything you can do.

Charles, I beg of you.

I'm not at all sure that it wouldn't be

the patriotic thing
to imprison you, Charles,

in spite of the pain
it would cause me personally.

By the bye, if you should run
into any difficulties in England,

let me know.

The prisons, even in that utopia,

are very uncomfortable, they tell me.

A pleasant journey, Mr. Darnay.

What did he mean by that?

Steel hand in the velvet glove.

But he's capable of anything.

I'm not troubled, Gabelle.

Charles, let me go with you.

I can't take you now,
but someday we'll be together.

God bless you, Charles.

On the boat to England, you say, Morveau?

Do you think it can be done
on the boat to England?

Darnay will be arrested the day he lands.

You are ingenious, Morveau.

I like your plan. Proceed with it.

Very well, Your Excellency.

The boy's capricious. He needs correction.

Yes, Your Excellency.

♪ Dover girls they have no combs ♪

♪ Heave away, heave away ♪

♪ They comb their hair with... ♪

Here we are, Dr. Manette, safe in England

and you've borne the voyage
like a seasoned traveler.

It's been a pleasant voyage.

Your kindness has done me good, much good.

It's nice to be one's self again.

Believe me, Miss Manette,
I'm sorry the voyage is ending.

And I... I can't tell you how glad I am

your hatbox fell into the water at Calais.

Oh, really, Mr. Darnay.

Oh, I only meant that rescuing it

gave me the opportunity to meet you
and... and your father.

And it gave me the opportunity to hear

your instructive discourse
on George Washington

and the rights of man.

Now you're making sport of me,
Miss Manette.

Oh, no, Mr. Darnay, it was most edifying.

Ahoy, ashore.

All right, lad. Hand me me luggage.

- My bag.
- Get back.

- There we are.
- Hurry up, lad. That's it.

Bon voyage.

- Barsad.
- Shh.

Now to find the carriage,
and then for London, eh, doctor?

I wonder, Miss Manette,

if I may presume to call upon you
at your home?

On such short acquaintance?
Oh, Mr. Darnay.

Certainly a... a crossing
from Calais in this fog

cannot be called short acquaintance.

- Do let me see you again.
- Lucie dear, ready?

Yes, Father.

Thank you, Mr. Darnay,
for all your kindness.

- Goodbye then until Sunday.
- Sunday?

I told father I was inviting you
to sup with us on Sunday

at our house in Soho. Goodbye.

Goodbye, young man, until Sunday.

Which one is Evrémonde?

That's him there.

But he calls himself Darnay,
Charles Darnay.

And I tell you,
the marquis is going to make it

well worthwhile for the both of us.

Really, not working yet, Carton?
This is too much.

You've got to put your mind on this case.

No, not possible.

They've got this Charles Darnay
up for treason.

I don't know Charles Darnay.

I hate treason, I hate Frenchmen.

For that matter, I hate Englishmen.

Yes, yes, but Lorry sent
this case on to us

with a special request
for all my consideration.

Oh, it's not my consideration
he wants, it's yours.

Why don't you give it to him?
Give it to him.

Well, Carton, of course,
I count on you for a little help.

You don't need me.
You're the great barrister Stryver.

Stryver of the King's Bench Bar.

Well, if I am, it's due to perseverance.

I had to get into the front rank.

I wasn't born there, was I?

- I use my brains.
- Ah, you use mine, you mean.

Well, if I do, I pay you for it.

Well, not enough to justify
your interfering with my drinking.

But this is a treason case.
It's a matter of life and death.

Well, so is everything else. What of it?

Carton, I beg of you,
have a look at this brief.

Really, Carton,

with a man's life in your hands,
how can you hesitate?

I don't hesitate.

But I tell you, Darnay is lost.

We have to find a way
to counteract the evidence

of these witnesses, Barsad and Cly.

Barsad and Cly. Cly and Barsad.

Barsad and Cly.

A case like that
could be tried on mere sound.

What are you talking about?

Well, Barsad and Cly, or Cly and Barsad

by the very sound of their names,

by the build of their syllables

are manifestly villains.

Just as the other fellow,
the, the defendant,

- what was his name?
- Darnay. Charles Darnay.

Hmm.

Equally, manifestly a gentleman.

But you can't convict a man on syllables,

on the sound of his name.

Barsad.

Barsad.

I seem to know that name.

Wasn't he involved in a...

treason case once before?

Barsad. Yes, he was.

I believe we've uncovered
something here, Carton.

Well, Mr. Darnay,
fate and Mr. Barsad have it

that I should handle your case.

Your life is in my hands.

I may lead you to fortune or the grave.

Who knows, and who cares?

I wish you'd stop drinking
or I wouldn't give much

for Mr. Darnay's fortune.

You know, I shouldn't wonder,
but that Cruncher,

Jerry Cruncher, knows this fellow Barsad.

I think I'll call on Jerry.

I can't have you hobnobbing
with a fellow like Jerry Cruncher.

Why, he's a grave robber.

Now, Stryver, a man who
employs me shouldn't be a snob.

- But he's a grave robber.
- You don't discern the facts.

The very pith and marrow escape you.

Do you know the most interesting thing
to me about this case?

Saving an innocent man
from a horrible death.

No. It's that Cruncher probably knows
the tavern that Barsad drinks at.

That means I can pursue this case

in a congenial atmosphere.

You're in luck, Stryver.
I'll lay you a wager.

I'll drink you a victory.

Oh, dear Lord,
don't let him be a grave robber.

Have mercy on us.
Don't let him be a grave robber.

Oh, dear God...

Bust me if she ain't at it again.

Flopping yourself down and
prayin' against my prosperity.

Oh, Jerry, how can I keep from prayin'

now that I know
what your real business is?

Listen, Aggerawayter,
I won't have me wittles

blessed off me table by your prayin'.

- A grave robber.
- Don't say that word.

I'm a resurrectionist, that's what I am.

Doing a noble service
for the medical profession.

Besides, making a bit of money for meself.

So that's why your fingers
is always rusty, Father.

Quiet, you.

You're an unnatural wife

and an unnatural mother,
prayin' against me.

I wasn't prayin' against you.
I was praying for you.

Now I tell you,
I won't be took the liberty with.

You've got a fine mother,
you have, young Jerry.

Praying that the bread and butter

be snatched out of the mouth
of her only child.

Father, I think she's floppin' again.

- What, more floppin'?
- No, no, no.

Oh, I was meditatin'.

And I won't have you meditatin' neither.

Prayed against and
meditated against

in me own home.

Aye, Jerry.

- How are you, Mr. Carton?
- Not rusty, huh?

- Oh, no, sir.
- Good.

You'll never see them
rusty again, Mr. Carton.

Jerry, do you know a man called Cly?

Cly? No, I don't believes I do, sir.

Hmm. Know anybody called Barsad?

Oh, Barsad. I knows him, sir.

- A great fellow for bowlin'.
- Where do I find him?

Well, you might find him bowlin'
down at Puffey's.

Good.

But if you're going to meet him,
Mr. Carton,

you won't be keeping very good company.

Neither will Mr. Barsad.

Hey, whose idea was it?

Mine. I did all the brainwork.

Oh, I see.

Told them where to hold up the coach

and when to shoot the coachman.

And after doing all that for them,

what do you think they did, Barsad?

Run away with the swag?

Oh, oh, Barsad, where did you learn

so much of human nature?

In a really hard school of experience.

- Ah.
- I don't believe in nobody.

And I don't trust nobody.

That's right. Made up my mind, same thing.

Nobody. Never trust nobody.

But them swine, did you get back at them?

Did I get ba...

Did I fix something up on them?

Did you plant something on them?

Plant. Oh, you got a brain, Barsad.

You got a brain.

- What did you plant on them?
- Shh.

If I tell you where I last saw them,

maybe you'll guess what I planted on them.

Where did you see them?

Outside Newgate Prison.

- Newgate?
- Shh. With my own eyes.

First hung up and then quartered.

Drawn and quartered?

Like animals. Drawn and quartered.

You guessed it, Barsad.

Now, now, let that brain of yours

work out what I planted on them.

Treason. You got them for treason.

Mmm. You're a great man, Barsad.
You guessed it.

Treason, eh?

Now, Barsad, match that if you can.

Right. I will match it.

If you'll take the trouble
to go to the Old Bailey tomorrow,

you'll have the pleasure
of seeing a young Frenchman

by the name of Darnay up for treason,

put there by no other
than your humble servant.

No. Oh, if that's true,

I take my hat off to you, Barsad.

Then doff it right now.

Wait till I tell you how I did it.

No, no, another drink first.
There's plenty of time.

No, no, no. Now let me tell you.

Now, Mr. Barsad,
will you, please, tell us,

uh, in your own way,
just what happened on the boat.

Just how your attention was
first attracted to the prisoner.

Well, sir, I was, uh, strolling about
having a bit of exercise

when I passed a cabin door
which happened to be open.

I looked down and I noticed
some papers on the floor.

Oh, I thought they might be valuable.

So, thinks I to myself,
"Here's my opportunity

to do a good turn for some poor chap."

You know, I... I likes doing
that sort of thing.

Do not delay, my good man.

Just get to the incriminating facts.

Yes, milord. I picked up the papers

and imagine my astonishment

when I discovered that they were lists

of His Majesty's forces, God bless him.

And, uh, what was your motive

in turning these papers
over to the police?

My duty, sir.

- Your duty to your country?
- Yes, sir.

Your duty as a patriotic Englishman.

Your duty as a shining citizen.

I say, milord,
that were statues decreed in Britain

as they were in ancient Greece
and Rome to public benefactors,

this noble citizen
would most assuredly have one.

- Your Honor, I protest.
- Ahem.

"Must we have a statue

or would you be satisfied
with just a bust?"

Silence in court. No levity, gentlemen.

That's all, Mr. Barsad. Your witness.

"No questions now.

Later on,
if you're not too silly, we'll..."

No questions now. Beg pardon, milord.

Here are the lists, milord,
if you care to examine them.

Have these been
in the prisoner's possession?

- Yes, milord.
- Oh, dear.

Can't be too careful, you know.

Jail fever. Very prevalent.

I now call Miss Lucie Manette.

Miss Manette, have you seen
the prisoner before?

Oh, most unhappily, yes.

Answer the questions put to you.
Make no remark upon them.

Where did you first meet him?

When the gentleman came onboard, I...

If you mean the prisoner,
say the prisoner.

The prisoner noticed that my father

was in a very weak state of health.

He was very kind and good to my father.

To us both.

I hope I won't repay him
by doing him harm today.

It's your duty to tell the truth,

the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth.

The prisoner understands that, or should.

The prisoner was overheard

to make some remark about America.

What was it? Be particular.

He tried to explain to me the quarrel
between England and America,

and said that it might have been avoided

had England been less rash
and more understanding.

Oh, he, uh, he made treasonable
remarks like that, you see...

Yes, but there was no harm
in the way he said this.

It was said only to beguile the time.

Oh, we'll leave that
for the jury to decide.

That will be all, Miss Manette.

Your witness.

No questions, milord.

With your permission, milord,
I'd like to call the witness Barsad again.

Mr. Barsad, did you discuss this case
with Mr. Cly last night?

Last night?

Why, sir I-I haven't seen Mr. Cly
since last Sunday's services.

Services.

My guess is he stole the collection box.

- Where were you last night?
- At home. Workin'.

Working, Mr. Barsad?
Just what is your profession?

- Gentleman.
- Retired, of course.

And on what do you live?

- On my property.
- Where is it?

Well, I,
I haven't any just now.

Oh, then at present, you're not living.

Silence in court.

Really, Mr. Stryver I don't see that
these questions are at all relevant.

Mr. Barsad, have you ever been kicked?

- Certainly not.
- Come, come, Mr. Barsad.

Weren't you one time kicked down stairs?

Well, once I was kicked
at the top of the stairs,

but I fell down the stairs
of my own will and volition.

Wasn't that kick the result of
your stealing a silver teapot?

I was maligned about a mustard pot,

but it turned out to be only plated.

I see. You were maligned.

Do you know a French marquis?

- No, sir.
- No?

A relative of the prisoner's?

- No, sir.
- No?

And now, Mr. Barsad,
I want to ask you the vital question.

The attorney general
has told us that his whole case

rests upon the identification
of a certain man

whom you say is the prisoner.

A man whom you saw enter
the cabin on the Dover boat.

Now I want you to be very, very careful.

After all, all we want is the truth.

Now, are you quite certain

that the man you saw was the prisoner?

- Yes, sir.
- Couldn't have made a mistake?

No, sir.

Couldn't have mistaken him
for me, for instance?

Oh, no, sir.

Or His Lordship, perhaps?

Oh, tut yourself. Piffle.

No, sir.

Well then, could you have mistaken him

for my learned friend here?

Why, uh...

Ah, now you seem to think otherwise.

Will milord bid my learned friend

lay aside his wig for a minute?

I don't think it's necessary

but if Mr. Carton doesn't mind

and won't catch cold in his head.

Now, Mr. Barsad...

couldn't you have mistaken the prisoner
for Mr. Carton there?

No, I...

Well, sir, come to think of it,

as a matter of fact,

it was not the prisoner at all, sir.

That's all, milord.

As far as I'm concerned,
it's quite sufficient.

Gentlemen, bah!

The jury will retire
and consider their verdict.

I shall never understand

how you got that fellow
to change his evidence.

Oh, I just have a way of
getting at the essence of the facts.

The pith and marrow as it were.

Really? Oh, yes, quite so, quite so.

Oh, Mr. Carton, if you'll excuse me.

Charles, uh, Mr. Darnay
will be acquitted, won't he?

If the jury understands evidence,

Charles... Mr. Darnay will be acquitted.

Mr. Stryver's defense was brilliant.

- Wonderful.
- Hmm.

If he does get off,

it'll be entirely due to Mr. Stryver,
won't it?

Nothing to it. Mere professional claptrap.

Young sir, give credit
where credit is due.

Oh, uh, Mr. Lorry,

I would like Charles to know
we wish him well.

- Would you tell him for me?
- No, I better.

It wouldn't do for respectable
businessmen, especially bankers,

to be seen talking to the prisoner.

Might tell against the prisoner.

Ye... upstart.

Silence in court.

Gentlemen of the jury,

have you agreed upon your verdict?

We have.

- What is your verdict?
- Not guilty.

The prisoner at the bar,
the jury has found you not guilty.

Prisoner dismissed.

I'm so glad. So very glad.

Charles. Charles, my boy.

Glad to have got you off
with honor, my friend.

You saved my life.

Never any other outcome possible.

Barsad and Cly. Cly and Barsad.

Why, I could have told from
the very sound of their names,

from the very run of the syllables

that they were...

Well, uh, anyway, it was
all very simple, really.

Well, Mr. Stryver,

shows you can't tell brains by appearance.

- Aye.
- Uh, Barsad.

As between fellow artists,
why not try another country?

Uh, yes, sir. Yes, Mr. Carton,
I think I should love to travel.

Perhaps France.

Or you might like to go even further.

Say, China.

Never trust nobody.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye, Miss Manette.

My boy, never for a moment
did I doubt your innocence.

So, Mr. Lorry, respectable men of business

may speak to Mr. Darnay
in public now he's acquitted.

You have mentioned that before, sir.

We men of business must think of
the house we serve

more than ourselves.

Yes, yes. Banking, of course,

imposes its own restrictions and silences.

And indeed, sir, I don't know
that it is any of your business.

Oh, bless you, I have no business.

And if you had, sir,

perhaps you would attend to it.

Lord, love you, no, I wouldn't.

Mr. Darnay,
you're a very fortunate young man.

I beg your pardon, sir.

Well, it's not long
since you were well advanced

on your way to another world.

Oh, I'm... I'm very grateful

to Mr. Stryver and to you.

Would you...
would you care to dine with me?

No, I don't dine, but I'll wine with you.

Well, Mr. Darnay,

how does it feel to belong
to this terrestrial scheme again?

To taste, to feel, to be alive?

- It's very agreeable.
- Hmm.

- I'm glad you find it so.
- Why? Don't you?

I?

Matter of fact, Mr. Darnay,
I care for no man...

and no man cares for me.

You seem to be rather bitter today.

I suppose you were up all night.

- All night.
- No sleep, I'll wager.

- Not a wink.
- Just drinking.

Very sad. Just drinking.

- For no reason?
- For no reason.

Well, pardon me, but... but why do it?

You are smug, Mr. Darnay,
when you ask why people drink

but I'll tell you.

So that they can stand
their fellowmen better.

After a few bottles,

I might even like you.

You've been kind to me and I'll not reward
your kindness by taking offense.

There's a good fellow.

A toast then. Let's drink a toast.

Drink...

to the person that's nearest your heart.

- To the person...
- The one you are thinking of

now this instant.

- But I don't know...
- Ah, come now, man.

It's on the tip of your tongue.

Very well. To Miss Manette.

Miss Manette.

There's a fair young lady

to hand to a coach in the dark.

There's a fair young lady

to be pitied by and wept for by.

Ah.

Must be worth being tried for one's life

to be the object
of such sympathy and compassion.

Well, Miss Manette.

Oh, waiter, glass.

Tell me, Mr. Darnay,

do you think I particularly like you?

I've not asked myself that question.

Well, ask it now.

I thought you did,
but you're acting now as if you don't.

I begin to have a better opinion
of your understanding.

Waiter.

There's nothing in your dislike, I hope,

to prevent my settling for the dinner.

Oh, nothing in the world.

Let me have the record.

You call the... the whole dinner?

I do.

In that case, waiter,

uh, another bottle.

- Thank you.
- Goodnight, sir.

Goodnight.

And don't let your sober face elate you!

You never know what it may come to.

Why treat the fellow like that?

Is it because he shows you

what you have fallen away from,

what you might have been?

Change places with him.

Would you have been looked at
by those blue eyes as he was?

Ah, come on, Carton, you're jealous.

Have it out in plain words.
You hate the fellow.

♪ God rest ye merry gentlemen ♪

♪ Let nothing you dismay ♪

♪ Remember Christ our Savior ♪

♪ Was born on Christmas Day ♪

I've got to be getting home.
It's Christmas, you know.

Home? Where can you better find
the spirit of Christmas

than a good old English tavern?

But a tavern ain't a home.

No, at home, you bicker and quarrel.

And here, it's all peace on Earth,

goodwill to men.

Drink up, gentlemen. Goodwill to men.

- Merry Christmas!
- Merry Christmas!

Really,
what can be keeping Mr. Darnay?

A man who would be late
for Christmas services

would be late for his own wedding.

Charles told me he had to see Mr. Lorry

about something important.

Important indeed.

Anything can be more important
to a young man than going to church.

For meself, I'm very sorry
to see Mr. Darnay

go into Mr. Lorry's bank.

You all think it was a great kindness
on Mr. Lorry's part,

but I don't

because I think Mr. Lorry's an atheist.

All bankers are atheists.

- Good evening, Mr. Darnay.
- Good evening.

- Merry Christmas, Charles.
- Merry Christmas, Lucie.

Merry Christmas, Miss Pross, Dr. Manette.

Merry Christmas.

We've been waiting for you.

Will you forgive me, Lucie,
if I don't go with you to church?

I must speak to your father about...

about something that has arisen.

You're worried, Charles.

Oh, it's nothing serious, Lucie.

If only I could speak to Dr. Manette.

Uh, certainly.

Mr. Lorry has sent Jerry Cruncher

to light you and Miss Pross to the church.

We'll come back
directly after the service.

- You'll wait for us?
- Yes, I...

Well, come along, Lucie.

Not going to church, indeed. Atheist.

Bankers and Frenchmen, all atheists.

May I remind you
that the port on the sideboard

is for the party after services

and not for haphazard consumption.

- Oh, Pross, do come along.
- Mm-hmm.

Won't you sit down, Charles?

I will not delay disclosing to you
what I have to say, Dr. Manette.

I have just learned from Mr. Lorry
something that distresses me deeply.

It is a bitter irony, sir,

that this man who did you
such a dreadful injustice...

should be my blood relation.

I'm very sorry.

Can you understand that I...
that I had to tell you?

Yes, I understand you had to tell me.

I am an Evrémonde,
but I love you and yours.

For you and Lucie,
I would give up my life, if necessary.

Dr. Manette, can you find it
in your heart to forgive me?

You showed character,
Charles, in coming to me.

And I have no blame for you.

In suffering, one learns many things.

Among them, not to punish the innocent.

I shall never forget your kindness.

But you must promise me
one thing, Charles.

- Anything.
- You must not tell Lucie.

But, sir, I must. That would...

You must let me tell her in my own way,

in my own time,

or you may spoil not only
your own happiness, but hers.

Trust me, Charles.

It shall be as you wish. Of course, sir.

I don't like Mr. Lorry
sending dozens of people

to look after us we don't want.

If he's so anxious about us,
why didn't he come himself?

Oh, no, not himself, the old atheist.

Now you know perfectly well
Mr. Lorry is the soul of kindness.

Mr. Cruncher is his odd-job man.

Odd-job man, indeed.

From what I can gather,
he's the oddest of odd-job men.

W-wait.

Good evening, Mr. Carton.

- Merry Christmas.
- Oh, thank you, Miss Manette.

Miss Pross, Merry Christmas.

I'd say Merry Christmas to you,
Mr. Carton,

if it weren't plain to see
that you'd already had it.

Were you going to midnight service?

We're going. Do come with us.

Why not? Thank you, Miss Manette.

It's dangerous takin' him
to church, Miss Pross.

He's liable to forget where he is

and call for a round of drinks.

Hold your tongue
and hold that lantern higher

or I'll bash you with this umbrella.

♪ Hark the herald angels sing ♪

♪ Glory to the newborn king ♪

♪ Hark the herald angels sing ♪

♪ Glory to ♪

♪ The newborn king ♪

I'll light a candle for you.

Go along, my man

and I hope you mend your ways
in the future.

Lucie, my pet,
your father's waiting for you.

And as you know, he doesn't like
crowds of people about,

especially on Christmas Eve.

Please tell him I'll come in
in just a moment.

Won't you come in too?

We're having
a little Christmas celebration.

Oh, I'm afraid not.
Thank you, Miss Manette.

You'll be very welcome.

I must tell you, Miss Manette,
that when you met me

I was not on my way to church.

Oh, I know.

My usual Christmas Eve

going from tavern to tavern.

I know, but...

Well, we... we can't always be at our best.

Won't you, please, come in?

Uh, not like this.

If I may come some other time.

Please do.

I'd love to have you for a friend.

So wo... so would Father.

Oh, Merry Christmas.

? Come all ye faithful?

♪ Joyful and triumphant ♪

♪ O, come ye, o, come ye ♪

♪ To Bethlehem ♪

♪ Come and behold Him ♪

♪ Born the king of angels ♪

♪ O, come let us adore Him ♪

♪ O, come let us adore Him ♪

♪ O, come let us adore Him ♪

♪ Christ the Lord ♪

You're making quite a tea drinker
out of me, Prossie.

- Aren't you ashamed?
- I am Miss Pross.

And as for being ashamed,
why should I be ashamed?

For giving you a decent home
to come to, I suppose.

For saving you
from the gallows, practically.

Ashamed, huh, indeed.

Oh, Miss Pross, don't you think at times

you're inclined to exaggerate
just a trifle?

One of Prossie's most endearing gifts.

That's why I love you.

I'll have you know, I'm not one
of those flibbertigibbeties

you can take liberties with.

No more liberties, Prossie.

And I'll thank you to call me Miss Pross

or not address me at all.

You know, I believe
you've completely captivated Pross.

She's part of the flavor
of this house to me.

I couldn't imagine it without her

no more than without
these paintings of yours.

- It's beautiful.
- Oh, please don't look at it.

I know it's dreadful, but I do it.

That's like my drinking.

I know it's dreadful, but I do it.

There hasn't been quite so much
of that lately, has there?

Oh, with your influence.

Your visits here have meant
so much to us, to Father and me.

And what do you think it's meant to me,

my being able to come here and see you?

Oh, if we've helped you, I'm glad.

Oh, it's you. It's you who have done it.

I've always felt in you
such hidden possibilities.

- It seems such a pity to..
- To waste them?

Don't be afraid to say it.

I have wasted them and myself.

It's only now, after knowing you,

that I've told myself
that perhaps it's not too late.

I'm sure it's not.

After all, you're young.

Your whole life's before you.

Anything you want to accomplish.

- Do you believe that?
- Oh, I do.

Well, it makes it worth the trying.

Thank you, Sydney.

That completes my happiness.

I wonder if you know how much
your happiness means to me.

Of course, I do.

You're my very dearest friend.

Oh, I... I must tell you.

What?

- Can't you guess?
- Guess?

I'm going to be married.

Charles Darnay.

Yes.

Well...

aren't you going to wish me happiness?

Happiness, yes.

Yes, of course.
All that you deserve.

Amen.

I join you together in marriage

in the name of the Father, and of the Son,

and of the Holy Ghost, amen.

And now, for the first time, Mrs. Darnay.

All my congratulations, Dr. Manette.

Dear, dear, dear, this is an occasion

that makes me speculate
on all I may have lost.

To think there might
have been a Mrs. Lorry

any time these 50 years.

You were a bachelor in your cradle.

You were cut out for a bachelor

before you were put in your cradle.

I may have been so in my cradle

but since then, let me tell you
there have been occasions...

Mr. Lorry, this is not the time
or place for such confidences.

But...

Charles, have you seen Sydney?

Why, no.

Well, I wonder why
he didn't come to my wedding.

Why, Sydney, why didn't you
come to the wedding?

Pleasant ceremonies, weddings.

You know, Sydney, come to think of it,

you ought to get married.

Find yourself someone to take care of you.

Some respectable woman
with a little property.

Landlady, lodging-house keeper.

Marry her against a rainy day.

Oh, must I spend my life listening to

that eternal, blithering,
pompous voice of yours?

- Drives me mad.
- Tsk, tsk, tsk.

You certainly are a funny fellow.

Never know how to take you.

Suggest marriage to you, and you fly up.

If you'd only seen the joy
in Lucie's eyes.

Why should that surprise me?
Why shouldn't she be happy?

Why shouldn't she be?

You are destined
for more, Gaspard,

than revenge for the murder of your child.

You may light a spark
that will kindle all France.

I go.

He goes.

"Henri Dupont, 42 francs, quit rental."

Not enough, Gabelle.

Really, with what I get
from these peasants

I can hardly afford
to pay my perfume bills.

Uh, what about Roulet?
Has he paid his rent?

No, Your Excellency, nor will he.

Roulet died last week.

Now that was impertinent of him.

He died with his rent unpaid.

Oh, what did he die of?

Hunger.

Hunger is an indulgence
with these peasants

as gout is with us.

It is an indulgence they would
gladly dispense with, monseigneur.

Oh. Oh, I keep forgetting, Gabelle.

You're a... you're a humanitarian,
aren't you?

You think that one person
is as good as another.

A naive notion,
so contradicted by the facts.

But, uh, speaking of, uh,
speaking of humanitarians,

uh, what has become
of your disciple, my nephew

in the year since he left
my tyrannical roof?

- Do you hear from him, Gabelle?
- Oh, yes. He is very happy.

He's taken a post
at Tellson's Bank.

Frightfully bourgeois.

If it weren't that my sister,
Charles' mother,

were quite beyond reproach,
I should suspect

that Charles had tainted blood somewhere.

His conduct is so strange.

It's quite mystifying.

What was that, Gabelle?

What, Your Excellency?

I thought I saw somebody at the window.

- Go and see.
- Certainly.

There was nothing, monseigneur.

- Hmm.
- Goodnight.

Gentlemen.

Monsieur Gabelle.

Your forgiveness, gentlemen.

I'm certain you wouldn't have me

put promptness before gallantry.

It's of no consequence.
Believe me, no consequence.

Monsieur Gabelle here
has been trying to frighten us

with hobgoblins, werewolves,
and mythical revolutionists.

Proceed, Monsieur Gabelle.

You may laugh, gentlemen,

but revolution is in the air.

Yet there is still time to remove
the cause of this unrest.

All the people ask is justice.

Only the Jacquerie, the extremists,

are spreading the doctrine
of violence and bloodshed.

And what do you suggest, Gabelle?

Uh, that we double the police force?

Double the police?

No. Give the people bread.
Reduce their taxes.

Oh, I... I beseech you, gentlemen,

correct your errors
or the flood will come,

a flood that may
sweep us all away forever.

His terror is genuine, gentlemen,

even if his philosophy is not.

Remember your own terror five years ago

when my master met his death?

And remember also, gentlemen,
that the Jacques who killed him

is still at liberty.

Enough of this, Gabelle.

I have a new agent in Paris,
a smart Englishman

who will ferret out this murderer.

Our gracious king
also has seen the necessity

for stronger measures.

He has brought German hussars
and Swiss infantry

into Paris to give your Jacques

a good drubbing, Monsieur Gabelle.

Mercenaries to fight Frenchmen?

More delicate than to slaughter
them ourselves, don't you think?

Shall we rejoin
the ladies, gentlemen?

How I loathe intellectuals
like this fellow,

peasants who read.

How many thousands
of these foreign soldiers

are they bringing in?

It doesn't matter how many.

It will do them no good.

It will do them no good.

The starving people of Paris
might wait a long time

before rising up to fight French soldiers.

But against hired foreign troops,

hmm, any day, any hour.

Any minute.

Want this wood in the loft?

Aristo spy. Used to be with Evrémonde.

Name is Barsad.

Good day.

Cognac, the very best.

Never mind the cost.

These foreign soldiers are gonna fi...

They march well, don't they?

Very well.

You, uh, knit with great skill, madam.

What sort of things do you make?

Everything. Mostly shrouds.

Shrouds?

Business seems bad.

Business is very bad. People are so poor.

Ah, the unfortunate, miserable people.

And so oppressed, too, as you say.

- As you say.
- Uh, pardon me.

Certainly it was I who said so,

but of course, naturally you think so.

I think?

All we think here is how to live.

Oh, good health, Jacques.

My name is Ernest De Farge.

De Farge?

Oh, uh, didn't you
used to work for Dr. Manette?

Yes.

You know,
I met him in England.

He has a charming daughter.

Little grandchild now too.

- Grandchild?
- Oh, yes.

His daughter married Charles Darnay.

You must remember him.

He's the nephew
of the Marquis St. Evrémonde.

You must have known the marquis.

No. Why should I?

Well, when the marquis
was killed some years ago,

his death was applauded
in this neighborhood.

You remember that, Jacques?

You make a mistake when
you call my husband Jacques.

His name is Ernest.

I don't want to make a mistake
in your name.

Are there two Ds in Barsad?

I don't believe it.

It can't be true what he said
of Mademoiselle Manette.

No!

If he has said it, it's probably false,

but it may be true.

No, no, it's not true.

If it is, I hope for her sake

that destiny will keep
her husband out of France.

Her husband's destiny
will lead him to the end

that is to end him.

That is to end him.

I can't understand the doctor

permitting such a marriage.

Or forgetting
what the Evrémondes did to him.

The doctor may forget
and the doctor may forgive

but I don't.

We don't.

I, for one, don't believe
there will be a terror in France.

I count on the sanity
and good temper of the people.

Well, the trouble is the aristocrats
weren't firm enough.

They should hang a few hoodlums

and that's all the revolution
there will be.

That's the kind of talk that cost us
the American colonies.

No comparison at all that I can see. None.

We lost the colonies because
they fell under the spell

of that upstart Washington.

Well, the time may come
when the upstart Washington

will be a better remembered
Englishman than George Ill.

Oh, stuff and nonsense.

You businessmen never read
anything but your ledgers.

- You're badly informed.
- Oh, bless my soul.

And as for the French aristocrats,

they're so blind they can't see
the lightning in front of their eyes.

You mustn't make the mistake of thinking

that all aristocrats are alike, Carton.

They differ as other classes do.

I agree.

Now we of the younger generation

of Tellson's Bank have been studying

the French situation closely

and we have come to the conclusion...

Oh, Miss Pross.

May I congratulate you on the dinner.

I know I express the sentiments of all

when I say that the roast tonight...

Is not up to your usual standard.

I suppose it not as good
as the taverns you are used to.

From what I hear, none of you
are strangers to taverns.

Mr. Carton, the infant has expressed

a desire to say goodnight to you.

The infant's desire shall be
gratified immediately, Prossie.

I suppose, uh, it's none of my business...

but I wouldn't allow that fellow

to handle a child of mine.

As to that, you haven't got one.

And by the looks of you,
you're not likely to have one.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

Shh.

She wanted so badly
to say goodnight to you,

but she fell asleep.

- You're her favorite, Sydney.
- And she's mine.

She accepts me without criticism.

Never asks me where I've been
or what I've been doing.

Doesn't even object to my drinking.

- The perfect friend.
- Shh.

You know, Sydney,

sometimes it's the part of a friend
to criticize too.

Well, when there's any hope
of reformation, yes,

but with me, it's hopeless.

I don't believe it.
I refuse to believe it.

Oh, I admit that once when...

when I first knew you,

the sight of you and your home
stirred old shadows

that I thought had died out of me.

I had unformed ideas of striving afresh,

beginning anew,
fighting out the abandoned fight.

A dream that ended in nothing.

But you inspired it.

- Must it end in nothing?
- I'm afraid so.

But for that inspiration
and for that dream

I shall always be grateful to you, Lucie.

I feel in you still such possibilities.

No, they'll never be realized.

I am like one who died young.

I'll never give up my hopes
for you, Sydney. Never.

I know myself better.

But this I know too.

I would embrace any sacrifice for you...

and for those dear to you.

Will you hold me in your mind
as being ardent and sincere

in this one thing?

Think now and then that there is a man

who would give his life

to keep a life you love beside you.

Thank you, Sydney.

God grant it may never be necessary.

Look at the crowd
rushing to escape the storm.

Listen to the echoes.

You know...

sometimes I've sat here
of an evening until...

until I've made the echoes
out to be the echoes

of all the footsteps
that are coming by and by

into my father's life and mine.

- Meat, meat.
- Yes, meat.

Why do you endure it?

Why do you have to endure it?

Why?

Why?

- Aristo.
- Tutor of aristos.

Evrémonde's lackey.

Living on the blood of peasants.

It's not true.

I've always fought for the people.

I taught Charles Darnay
to love the people.

- Ask him.
- Then why isn't he here?

Why isn't he here to testify for you?

Citizen Gabelle,
we know Citizen Darnay's views,

that he's a friend of the people.

- His word could save you.
- But he's in England.

Why doesn't he return to testify for you?

If, as you say, you have
taught him the views he holds,

he should be willing to do that for you.

Write him.

His answer will be the test.

Well, he will come. I'm sure he will.

Pen. Paper.

Thank you, Citizen Gabelle.

Thanks for giving us an aristocrat.

His last will and testament.

I congratulate you on your ruse, citizens,

but I beg of you, I implore you,

no matter what you do to me,
spare Charles Darnay.

He is your friend.

The revolution will need friends.

Do you remember a child that was killed

by the coach of your master,
the Marquis Evrémonde?

Why, yes.

- Was that your child?
- My child.

Oh, that was a dreadful thing, citizen.

Do you see this hand?

This is the hand
that struck your master down.

- Well, you can't blame me.
- You lived with him.

You were his friend.

I see.

I'll not plead for justice for myself

but I implore you not to send that letter.

Charles Darnay is your friend.

He feels your sufferings.

He will feel them better and so will you.

Hurry up, you.
Come on here with that there mail.

- What's been keeping ya?
- What's all the row, father?

Lots of foreigners about today.

Frenchies over here
to save their heads and skins.

From what I hear,
France would be a fine place

just now for a resurrectionist.

You're developin' too fast, me lad.

And stay off my stool.

And so we landed here with all the silver.

- Letter for you, Mr. Darnay.
- Thank you, Jerry.

- Where do I arrange for a loan?
- But you don't understand.

I want this loan on the finest
house in the Rue Saint-Germain.

Everything will be attended to,
but it takes time.

You can't hurry this house.

- I demand immediate action.
- My dear sir,

young Mr. Tellson will see you,
but you'll have to wait.

- I want to see old Mr. Tellson.
- No, no, no, no.

Mr. Tellson, Senior hasn't
seen anyone in 15 years.

But here comes Mr. Tellson, Junior.

Uh, Mr. Tellson, sir,

aren't you going to pay any attention
to my loan?

Indubitably.

- Good morning.
- Good morning, sir.

If you advise the bank to loan money

to these French aristocrats,
you'll ruin Tellson's.

But, Carton, this is the best opportunity
for business in years.

These people are so anxious to get loans,

they'll put up twice the value
for security.

Hmm, seems twice the value to you

but it's no security at all.

This business in France
is a real revolution.

These people are putting up
securities they won't own.

I was thinking
along those same lines meself.

- Well, Darnay.
- Hello, Carton.

- Lucie still in the country?
- Yes, yes.

You seem upset. Is everything all right?

Yes, of course.

Uh, Mr. Stryver,
you see we are besieged for loans.

Our Mr. Lorry is in Paris
reviewing the situation.

Advices are delayed.

Shall we advance any money
at all, Mr. Stryver?

I shouldn't.

This is a real revolution
in France, Mr. Tellson,

and these securities, in my opinion,

are no securities at all.

- Don't you think so, Carton?
- Indubitably.

Well, Mr. Carton,

even though you do agree with Mr. Stryver,

I shall still risk his judgment.

- Ah.
- Good day, sir.

- Jerry.
- Yes, sir?

When does the coach leave for Dover?

In half an hour
from the Golden Cross Inn, sir.

Does it meet the packet for France?

Yes, sir.

Reserve space for me immediately.

- Will you?
- Yes, sir.

"I know you will understand
my obligation to my old tutor.

His life is at stake
and I cannot deny his appeal."

Isn't that just like Charles,

to drop everything and go to the aid of...

Father, what is it? What's the matter?

I should have told you before
perhaps, Lucie.

- What?
- About Charles.

He is an Evrémonde,

nephew of the notorious
Marquis St. Evrémonde.

The man who...
Father, the same man who...

Yes, it was Charles's uncle

who had me imprisoned in the Bastille.

- Why didn't you tell me?
- That is all past.

It is the present that troubles me.

- Charles's danger.
- Danger?

I heard only today

that they've passed a new law in France

that the lives of all aristocrats
who return to France

are forfeit to the revolution.

What are we going to do?

- We must follow him.
- Yes. Yes, of course, we must.

Miss Pross.

Father, I'm frightened.

- Yes, madame?
- Send Miss Pross to me.

Yes, madame.

You needn't be frightened.

As a victim of the aristocrats,
I shall be welcome in France.

Yes. Yes, of course, you will be.

How strange that
I who suffered by an Evrémonde

must go to save an Evrémonde.

Come, Father.

Charles Darnay?

Pass, Evrémonde.

Take Evrémonde to La Force Prison.

- Take him away.
- Wait. Prison?

Under what law? For what offense?

We have new laws, Evrémonde,

and new offenses since you were here.

But isn't there... will you...

Will you permit me
to communicate with Mr. Lorry

of Tellson's Bank who is now in Paris?

I will do nothing for you. Take him away.

- Can he see us, Father?
- I'm sure he can.

You may kiss your hand

towards that highest row
of windows up there.

I do so, and I send my soul with it.

Goodbye, my dear.

I must go now and try to arrange
for Charles's trial.

If he sees us, why doesn't he come down?

He will, darling, if we wait long enough.

Mummy, something white up there.

Yes, darling, he sees us. Wave.

Former Count D'Etournelle,

have you anything to say in your defense?

Nothing I could say
would make any impression on you.

I prefer the dignity of silence.

He prefers the dignity of silence.

- Vote, jury.
- Guilty.

- Guilty.
- Guilty.

Death within 48 hours.

Come on, let's go.

Buy a guillotine?

Guillotine? Buy a guillotine?

- What is your profession?
- I am a seamstress, citizen.

You're accused of consorting
openly with Pierre Cot,

who spoke slightingly of the revolution.

He was my friend, citizen.

I grew up with him in the country.

Hmm, you shouldn't have
such friends, citizeness.

- Vote, jury.
- Guilty.

Guilty.

Death within 48 hours.

The Marquis St. Evrémonde
called Darnay,

suspected as an enemy of the republic.

Let him have the guillotine.

You're accused under the decree
which forbids the return

of all aristocrat emigrants
under pain of death.

I submit that I am not an emigrant

- in that sense of the word.
- Why not?

I relinquished my title
before the revolution began.

For what reason?

I felt I would rather live
on my own industry in England

than on the already
overburdened people of France.

A lot he cares about that.

Then why did you
come back to France?

I came to save a friend of the people

who was unjustly accused.

I hope that is not criminal
in the eyes of the republic.

No. No. No.

- And the name of that citizen?
- Citizen Gabelle.

- Is he here?
- I don't know.

Citizen Gabelle!

Citizen Gabelle!

Citizen Gabelle.

- He's not here.
- Well, why is he not here?

I... I don't know.

Did you hear that, jury?

The man he came to save isn't here

and he doesn't know why he's not here.

Have you any other proof of equal value?

Dr. Manette will speak for me.

I'm sure he'll be able to influence them.

Dr. Manette,

we all know you as one of the sufferers
under the old regime.

What do you know of this prisoner?

You all know of
my long imprisonment

how I was released
by the aid of my good friends,

the De Farges.

Citizens, I know the prisoner well.

The last few years,
we became very close friends.

I know where his sympathies are.

They are with you, the people.

They always were.

He is a true citizen of the republic.

Words are easy.

What better proof can I give you

than when he asked for
my only daughter's hand in marriage

I gave my consent gladly.

Bad judgment.

- He wants to spy on you.
- No doubt about that.

Citizens, for 18 years,

I suffered unspeakable tortures
in the Bastille.

Could I have given
my only daughter to a man

whose sympathies are with
those who tortured me?

No. No. No.

There is very little left for me
in this life, citizens.

Only my daughter's happiness

which is now in the hands of the prisoner.

I have suffered enough from my enemies.

From you, who are my friends,

to whom I owe my liberty,

may I not ask a final blessing?

May I not ask the liberty
to enjoy what is left in peace?

- Not guilty!
- Not guilty!

- Stop!
- Silence.

Citizeness, you're out of order.

- I defy the bell.
- What?

I accuse the man Evrémonde,

one of the family of tyrants
who used their privileges

for the oppression of the people.

- Your witnesses?
- Three.

- Ernest De Farge.
- Yes.

- Thérèse De Farge.
- Yes.

And Dr. Manette.

I protest, it is a lie.

Who dares to say that I denounce this man?

I do, that you denounce him in words

that can never be taken back.

Look, citizens, the record
of Dr. Manette's sufferings

in the Bastille and the cause of them.

I make no accusations.

How can you say that
when it is there in black and white?

Let me read it. Look.

"For all that the Evrémondes
made me suffer,

for all that they have made
the people suffer,

I, Alexandre Manette, do,
on this last night of the year,

and in my unbearable agony,
denounce the family of Evrémonde,

them and their descendants,
to the last of their race."

When was that written?

This letter was written in prison
by Dr. Manette himself

in scrapings of soot and charcoal

mixed with his own blood.

Cut his head off!

Dr. Manette has told you
that he spent 18 years

in solitary confinement in the Bastille.

This letter tells you why.

It tells how, as a young doctor,

he was summoned
to the bedside of a dying girl,

dying because she'd been
outraged by the Evrémondes.

It tells how her young brother
was cut down

for daring to come
to the defense of his sister.

It describes the agonies
of those two innocent, young people.

That boy is dead. That girl is dead.

All that peasant family but one

died through the cruelty and
oppression of the Evrémondes.

All but one, a sister.

That sister was hidden from them
and she lives.

She lives today!

I am that sister!

And I demand the life
of the last of the Evrémondes!

I demand it!

But this boy had nothing to do with that.

Citizens, vote.

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

The accused is found guilty of
being an enemy of the republic.

Citizen president,
the citizens of the republic

demand the death of the prisoner.

Granted. Death within 48 hours.

Charles! Charles!

Charles!

Charles!

Now, my good doctor, save him if you can.

Oh, merciful Creator,

have pity on Thy servant, Charles.

He came here to save a life.

Save his.

"Louis Bach, merchant of Metz."

Pass.

"Maria Fontanni, singer."

Singer.

Pass.

"Sydney Carton, English advocate."

Pass.

Right. Pass.

But it's incredible that the De Farges

should have turned
against Manette like that.

He regarded them
as his best friends in Paris.

Every revolution breeds fanatics
like Madame De Farge.

But how anyone could be cruel
to Lucie I cannot understand.

Tell me, how is she?

How do you imagine she is

with her husband condemned to die?

Why do you take up my time
asking these questions?

What... what good are these questions?

Forgive me if I notice
that you are affected.

I shouldn't respect your sorrow more

if you were my own father.

From that misfortune, however,
you are free.

Indeed, that is one thing
to be grateful for, I suppose.

When is the...
the execution to take place?

Within 24 hours.

You're remaining long in Paris?

No, I've done all the good I can do here.

You're going to Lucie's, I hope.

She must be very desolate tonight.

And she has such
a strong attachment to you

and reliance on you.

I'll be going directly.

I shall venture to go and see her later.

Perhaps there is something
she would like me to do for her.

There's nothing for you to do
that I can see.

I shall let her tell me so.

Perhaps we shall meet at Lucie's then.

Perhaps.

Hello, Mr. Carton. How are you?

Hello, Jerry.

Better than the stool I had
in London, eh, Mr. Carton?

Belonged to a duke, they say.

- I paid two shillings for it.
- What are you doing here?

Oh, I arrived with some
documents for Mr. Lorry.

So I'm gonna stay here and do his errands

like I did at home.

I suppose you heard about Mr. Darnay?

- Yes.
- Very sad.

You know, that couldn't happen
in England, Mr. Carton.

Only the other day,
I was talking about this case

with an old friend of yours, Mr. Barsad.

- Is he here in Paris?
- Is he here?

And very important.

He goes in and out of prisons

like as if he was high and mighty.

- He goes in any place.
- He does, does he?

If you ask me,
I think he's a sort of official.

- A spy of the prisons.
- Ah.

And he's very prosperous, is Barsad.

Whatever you say about him, he's talented.

Put him anywhere, he'll get along.

You say a spy on the prisons.
What prison, for example?

- Mostly La Force Prison.
- La Force.

That information may be useful.

- Good, sir.
- All right, Jerry.

Glad to see you sitting
on the last throne left in Paris.

Very fitting.

Thank you, sir.

I implore you to have pity on me.

You have such power.

It is still not too late
for you to help me.

As a wife and mother, I appeal to you.

We are wives and mothers,
and did they think of us?

All our lives we suffered,
and our children suffered,

poverty and nakedness,
hunger, sickness, death.

No one showed us mercy.

Why should the troubles
of one wife and mother

mean anything to us now?

But I am not an aristocrat.

I'm the daughter of a country doctor.

I'm one of the people, just as you are.

I don't trust
those members of the people

who marry aristocrats.

I see that I can hope
for nothing from you.

You have no pity, no pity.

No, citizeness, none.

I'll thank you to leave the child alone.

And what's more,
don't grin at me, boldface.

Yes, there are still Evrémondes.

Here, Ladybird, drink this.

No.

Sydney, there is still hope, isn't there?

- You think so, don't you?
- Of course, there's hope.

But Father's been gone for hours.

Well, it might take a long time

to see a man so important as Danton.

He would be able to see him, wouldn't he?

I feel sure of it.

Your father's reputation
would affect that very easily.

And Danton could save him
if he wanted to, couldn't he?

Yes, Danton could save him.

Where did you get this, Lucie?

A nice old lady gave it to me
at the wine shop.

What wine shop is the child talking about?

The D... the De Farge's.
We went there to...

You mean to say that
the De Farges saw the child?

- Merciful hea...
- Shh.

What is it? Why are you whispering?

Father.

Father.

Have you... have you seen him?

Have you seen Danton?

What...

What name did you say?

Dan...

My work.

What have you done with my work?

My bench, tools, thread.

Haven't you any thread?

Father, have you seen him?

You left to see Danton.

How can I make my shoes

if you don't give me any thread?

Father, don't you know me?

Charles. You left to save Charles.

It's no use, my dear.
He doesn't understand you.

I'll take him to his room.

Not just now.

Say it.

Why not say it?

There's no hope now.

Where's Father?

Didn't you say he was going
to bring back Father?

He's been delayed. He'll be here soon.

I want my father.

Shh, shh, shh.
Come with Pross. Come, come.

- I want my father.
- Shh, shh, shh.

It's going to seem
such a long time, Sydney.

Afterwards...

If only I could see him.

Just once.

I can't even do that.

Lucie, your father's calling for you.

Is there nothing we can do?

I think... I know
I can get to see Charles once.

You can? How?

Oh, I know of a man.

A way we drinking fellows have,
we always know of a man.

I spent the afternoon with him.

But what earthly good would it do
if you did see him?

You have your permit
to leave Paris when you please?

Yes.

And Lucie and the doctor,
Miss Pross and Jerry,

they have theirs.

- Oh, you'd have to move fast.
- But why?

These passes are valid for any time.

- Until canceled.
- Canceled?

From what you've told me
of Madame De Farge,

the permits will be canceled.

But the doctor, Lucie,
they're in no danger.

They are in great danger.

The doctor is suspected.
His behavior at the trial.

It's death for anyone
to sympathize with the condemned.

And to that tiger, Madame De Farge,
even the child.

Little Lucie? It's unthinkable.

Look.

Take the doctor's permit and the others'.

And here's mine.

- Keep it for me until tomorrow.
- I don't understand.

Oh, do as I ask.

Take the word of a drinking man for once.

What do you want me to do?

At eight o'clock tomorrow,
have your horses ready.

Start definitely at eight.

If Lucie hesitates, you must force her.

Tell her that it's Darnay's wish

that she leave Paris before the execution.

Do I wait for you?

Wait for nothing
but to have my place occupied.

And then for England.

You don't wish to tell me anything more?

Carton, if I have
misunderstood you before,

believe me, I regret it.

You never misunderstood me, sir.

You were right.

Yours is a long life
to look back on, Mr. Lorry.

I'm 78.

Long life. Useful one.

Ah, solitary bachelor.
Nobody will weep for me.

Wouldn't she weep for you?

Yes, thank God.
I didn't quite mean what I said.

It is a thing to thank God for, isn't it?

Tell me, if you looked back
on that long life

and saw that you had gained neither...

love, gratitude, nor respect
of any human being,

it would be a bitter reflection,
wouldn't it?

Why, yes, surely.

Would you mind if I borrowed that coat?

Certainly not.

Don't let anything she may say
change your plans.

I hope to do my part faithfully.

And I hope to do mine.

- Goodnight, lads.
- Goodnight, sir.

Sleep well. Pleasant dreams.

Hey there.

You work late, Mr. Barsad.

Now, Mr. Carton, what is it you want, sir?

- You know what I want.
- Shh.

Mr. Carton,
I told you this afternoon

that it can't be done.

No one's ever escaped
from one of them prisons.

- It can't be done.
- Yes, yes, I believe that.

But there is something that can be done.

You can get me an interview
with the prisoner.

One interview is all I want.

And what good will that do you?

You leave that to me.
I'll tell you that presently.

Well, Mr. Carton, you know,

I don't like getting mixed up in things.

You can't trust these foreigners.

They'll cut your head off
quicker than you can say Jack Robinson.

And how long do you think
your head would stay on your shoulders

if I told the Committee of Public Safety

you were a paid spy
of the Marquis St. Evrémonde?

Shh. Don't say that.

I won't...

provided you do what I tell you now.

I'll... I'll do as you say, Mr. Carton.

But remember now, we can't trust nobody.

Very well. Now...

Oh, Citizen Barsad.

Ah, Citizen Victor.

The, um, uh, the Evrémonde cell,
which is it?

Third on the left.

- Ten minutes, no more.
- Right.

Wait.

Carton, of all people on Earth.

You least expected to see me.

- What are you doing here?
- I bring a request from Lucie.

She begs you to do exactly as I say.

Yes, but...

Carton, I don't know what you have in mind

but it's useless to attempt
any form of escape.

- It will involve all of you.
- Now I have a plan that won't.

Now write what I dictate. Hurry.

- What's the plan?
- No, no, write, quickly.

You will remember...

the words...

that passed between us...

on a certain occasion.

- What occasion?
- Never mind. Write.

I am grateful...

the time has come...

when I can prove them.

That I do so...

is no subject...

for regret or grief.

- What's that?
- Nothing.

Something queer, queer smelling.

No, take the pen and finish. Hurry.

I... I'm faint.

No. Quick, write.

I said that if ever...

I could do anything...

for you...

or those dear to you...

Carton...

Oh, Citizen Victor. 21, eh?

Looks like
that sharp female La Guillotine

is going to have a very busy day tomorrow.

Oh, uh, tell me,
what's Evrémonde's number?

Evrémonde is, uh, 23.

Oh, uh, 23.

Oh, uh, tell me,

uh, Citizen Victor,
what time do you take them down

to the big room for the last call?

Early in the morning.

Aristos have a good time in there.

- Huh?
- They play cards.

Have mock trials.

- It's just like a club.
- Club?

That's a club that I don't wanna join.

Barsad.

Well, it looks like my friend is ready.

Here, Citizen Victor,

hop it and buy yourself
a bottle of cognac.

Shh.

I'm afraid we're not going to be able
to pull this through, Mr. Carton.

Do as you're told, and we will.

But there's got to be
a number 23 here in the mornin'.

There will be. Now help me.

Mr. Carton, you couldn't pay me
to do what you're doing, sir.

Oh, I dare say you've got
your price for even this.

Oh, no, not me, Mr. Carton.

Now remember, you must get him
to Mr. Lorry's by eight o'clock.

Very good, I will.

Wait.

Now, help me to get him to his feet.

All right, call your friend.

Victor.

Victor, come on. Give us a hand here.

- What's this?
- He's fainted.

Take hold of his shoulders.

I noticed he staggered a bit
as he came in.

Yes. When he saw his friend Evrémonde

had drawn a prize
in the lottery of St. Guillotine

it fair bowled him over.

Well, let's get him out.

Mr. Cruncher. Mr. Cruncher.

Aye.

Come up and help carry
Mr. Darnay down. Hurry.

Hurryin', Miss Pross. Hurryin'.

Today, citizeness,
your years of waiting end

when Master Evrémonde
spits in the sack, eh?

It is not the end.

He is not the last of the Evrémondes.

The wife must follow the husband.

The child must follow the father.

I'll go to them now. They'll be frantic.

They'll denounce the justice
of the republic and then...

And then...

Take this.

Have it ready for me at my usual seat

by the guillotine this afternoon.

You can stop wind and fire but not her.

And don't let anything
delay you, Miss Pross.

I pray he gets my Ladybird
and her family out of France.

Mr. Cruncher, don't dally.

Don't beat the willing horse, Miss Pross.

If I ever get out
of this here crisis alive,

I'll make a solemn vow I'll never stop
me old woman from floppin'.

She can even meditate when convenient.

I am not interested
in your family situation.

Oh, I must go fetch the other
two small bags from the house.

Citizen doctor.

- Oh, no, you don't.
- Let me pass.

Never. I know what you want.
I know what you're after.

I thank heaven I'm put here
to stop you, for stop you I will.

- In the name of the republic...
- In the name of no one,

you evil woman.

You've killed many innocent people.

No doubt you'll kill many more,

but my Ladybird,
you shall never touch again.

No? Do you know who I am?

You might, from your appearance,
be the wife of Lucifer,

yet you shall not get the better of me.

I'm an Englishwoman. I'm your match.

Pig, get out of my way
or I'll break you in pieces.

Break away then.

I don't care
an English tuppence for myself

and I know that the longer
I keep you here,

the greater hope there is for my Ladybird.

You're sick.
I'll give you your just dessert.

Oh, God save the king.

English pig.

"Citizen doctor.

Lucille Manette and child.

Sydney Carton, advocate."

Seems overcome.

"Mr. Lorry, banker."

All in order. You may go.

Pleasant journey.

Citizen Evrémonde.

Come with me.

Evrémonde, 23.

Evrémonde, 23.

Citizen Evrémonde, do you remember me?

I was condemned the same day you were.

They accuse me of plotting.

But is it likely?

Who would think of plotting
with a poor little seamstress?

I have nobody in all Paris.

No friends even.

Can you help me, Citizen Evrémonde?

Can you explain to me how the republic
could profit by my...

my death?

I don't understand.

I don't understand.

My poor child.

It isn't understanding
we need now, it's courage.

- Oh, you're not...
- Shh.

You're going to die in his place.

Why?

He is my friend.

You're so brave and I...

When we go to the guillotine,
will you let me hold your hand?

That might give me courage too.

Yes. I'll hold it to the last.

To the last.

"One, the Vicomte de Maillet.

Two, Monsieur Rochefoucault.

Three, the Vicomte de Bovez."

But I-I-I don't wanna die. Why must I die?

Come, man, assume an air.

Don't let the rabble see us like this.

You're right. You must forgive me.

Oh, my dear, my dear, we must be brave,

as your father would have wanted.

"Thirteen, the Duchesse de Richelieu."

And forgive them their outrages,

even though they fail to forgive ours.

"Twenty-two, Mademoiselle Fontaine,
the seamstress.

Twenty-three, the Marquis St. Evrémonde."

Twenty-three, 22, hurry.

Steady.

I'm not afraid now.

But I have a sister in the south

and she knows nothing of this.

Wouldn't they let you write to her?

I never learned how to write.

Well, perhaps that's a blessing.

Isn't it better that she doesn't know?

I love her so.

Will it seem long to me to wait for her?

No.

No, there's no time there

and no trouble.

The guillotine, Evrémonde, the guillotine.

Shh. Don't, citizen, don't.

Why?

He's going to pay the forfeit.

In just a few minutes, it will be paid.

Let him be at peace.

Thérèse!

Thérèse De Farge, where is she?
She's not here.

And they're up to 17.

And Evrémonde will be up soon too.

- His number's 23.
- Yeah.

She never missed before.

She'll not miss it. This is her day.

Thérèse!

I dropped a stitch.

Cursed aristocrats.

Keep your eyes on me. Mind nothing else.

I can bear it so long as I am near you.

But when I go, will they be quick?

They will be.

You're not afraid.

The others are only pretending, but you...

It's almost as if you welcomed it.

Perhaps I do.

Perhaps in death,
I receive something I never had in life.

I hold a sanctuary in the hearts
of those I care for.

Twenty-two.

Goodbye.

God bless you.

Twenty-three.

It's a far, far better thing
I do than I have ever done.

It's a far, far better rest I go to...

than I have ever known.