Original subtitles

Throughout the ages,

the heavens have unleashed their fury

to make man tremble

in the presence of the unknown.

And as man has witnessed the power

of nature's elements,

so have some men sought desperately

in this infinite power the secret...

of why they are born

and why they will die.

While the very ground on which they walk,

the earth that will bury them,

remains to mock their existence .

My dear Carl,

only the vicissitudes of a lifetime,

a long lifetime,

vicissitudes that we have shared almost as brothers

could have brought me out on a night such as this

to drink a toast

to your birthday.

Of course, if you had been

more considerate,

you might have been born

in better weather.

Well, perhaps,

perhaps the next time I am born, Alex

I'll,

I'll make it a day in spring when

everything else is being born also.

Then here's to both of our next birthdays,

so that we may share an eternity

of the friendship we have known.

Mmm.

Excellent port, Carl. Excellent.

Worthy of a man who has made life

give him full measure in 79 years.

Full measure?

Oh, how lonely the years

would have been without you, Alex.

Only one other person

could've driven the loneliness from my life.

But, what will be will be.

Alex?

Yes?

I wonder, my old friend,

could you do me a favor?

Yes, of course, Carl.

Should I not be here

for a rendezvous with my 80th birthday,

could you please bury this with me?

A withered rose?

Yes, well,

it's not very much to show for all those years, is it?

But to me, this rose is worth more

than all the world's treasures.

Sylvia gave it to me

almost 40 years ago.

I was to wear it on my wedding night.

Excuse me, there's something I must do.

Sylvia.

The time has come again.

Another milestone has been reached.

I drink to your infinite Patience.

Wait for me, Sylvia.

The time cannot be much longer

when I will join you there.

Oh, Carl, Carl,

if you only knew how wrong it was

never to have married because of a memory.

My dear Alex, perhaps I was capable

of loving only once.

And if fate decreed that Sylvia should die

on the eve of our wedding...

Alex, has man ever been able to control fate?

Why not?

Nothing ever stopped me

from living exactly the kind of life that I wanted.

That all depends on what one wants from life.

Alex, now, you...

You always needed to be surrounded

with laughter and gaiety, music.

Music is good for the soul.

Nothing melts a lady with more dispatch

than the sob of a violin.

Oh, Carl,

what a waste.

Many women other than Sylvia

would've loved you.

Now there would be children--

Sylvia shared everything with me.

Her face filled my dreams.

Her warmth

gave me courage.

Her memory gave me life itself.

Do you think I'd allow another woman to intrude?

But it is not right to live with a ghost.

That was close.

It was you with your talk of ghosts.

I apologize.

I promise that I won't bring such lightning again.

The rain is stopping.

I suppose you're going to blame that on me, too.

Alex, look.

That door hasn't been opened in 38 years.

Come, my friend.

Let's see what damage may have been done.

Carl, do you think we ought to go in there?

Afraid of dust and meaningless bones, Alex?

You're a doctor, you're used to these things.

As a doctor, I can tell you

you're not so far removed from dust

and meaningless bones yourself.

Light the candles, Alex, please.

Oh.

Two coffins?

The one that has fallen is Sylvia's.

The other is mine.

You wanted to take your memories

even to the grave.

Water dripping down.

The storm must've cracked the ceiling.

Come help me put the coffin back.

Sylvia!

No, Carl, it can't be.

Not after all these years.

She would be dust.

That's all that would be left.

Yes, I know.

But it is Sylvia. We both know that.

Just as beautiful.

Oh, Carl, put the lid back on the coffin

and let's get out of here.

I'm a doctor, Alex.

I have to know what preserved her body.

It's sacrilegious.

Perfect.

Perfect.

The flesh is firm, no decomposition.

But why?

It isn't the air in here.

This vault isn't a vacuum.

Please, let's--

Alex.

Yes.

Alex.

Look.

It's still wet as though water had been dripping on it.

But, of course.

It rained hard tonight,

there'd be seepage from the hill above.

No, no, no, Alex.

To cause a groove such as this,

water would've had to drip on this coffin

for a great number of years.

38 years, perhaps.

You mean, ever since Sylvia was put in here?

Yes.

The coffin is wet inside.

The water must have seeped in

through that hole, and kept it saturated.

You can't believe that just plain water

would keep Sylvia looking--

I didn't say it was just plain water.

Old age is catching up with you.

I say that we go inside and finish our wine. Go!

I thought my enthusiasm for research

had gone a long time ago.

And now,

here is a challenge that tells me

I'm still alive enough to be curious.

Impossible.

Simply impossible.

This liquid absolutely defies analysis.

It looks like water.

It tastes like water, but it isn't water.

At least, not as man knows it.

You can drink that if you like.

I need something more familiar: whiskey.

Extraordinarily high mineral content.

Sulfur, and practically no bacteria count.

Can it be that this liquid is some

sort of strong germicidal?

If so,

what could be in the earth

above the crypt to make it so?

Alex,

could this be some sort of virgin spring?

A liquid so pure that

its very fundamental structure is unknown?

If you've found anything as pure

as that in this sinful world,

you are indeed a genius.

I have known such purity only once before.

Sylvia.

It takes such a purity to make a man

forget all other women for as long as he lives.

Now, Carl, now that you know

what you don't know about that stuff,

do you mind if we get out of this unholy room?

Just, just, one moment,

there's just one other test that I must make.

What are you going to do with that?

We've seen that this liquid

can preserve the illusion of life.

Now let us see if it can restore it.

Restore life?

Yes.

You're not serious.

It's only an experiment, Alex.

Are you too old for curiosity?

Do you see?

It's alive again.

A fragrance as sweet

as the day Sylvia gave it to me.

Do you realize what that means?

No.

I'm not sure that I want to know

what it means.

This is the work of the devil.

The devil?

He wouldn't have anything to do with such happiness.

What are you talking about?

Alex,

suppose I were to drink

some of this liquid and become young again.

Carl, you're out of your mind.

Don't you see, Alex? You could drink some, too,

and we'd have another life of such friendship.

I'd hardly call that the work of the devil.

Do you think it's a possibility?

Well, I,

I'll be the first to try.

Oh, no.

What if it should turn out to be some sort of poison?

You saw the second coffin in the crypt.

My old friend,

I trust you'll make all necessary arrangements.

I'll pray for you.

To Sylvia,

who has either brought us eternal youth or

just eternity.

Do you feel anything?

No.

Carl, perhaps it only works on things like flowers.

Carl.

Carl, what is it?

I feel faint,

feverish.

Carl.

Look.

My face!

Alex!

Tell me what you see.

Carl, I can't believe it! You could be your own son!

I can't wait to have you join me.

Come, drink the liquid!

Hurry, hurry!

Hurry, my old friend.

Yes, I am hurrying.

Do you remember the fine figure

you cut in your youth?

Tall, handsome. My old friend,

you had the grace of a panther.

I did, didn't I?

Now you shall have it again.

Drink, drink!

By George, you didn't walk into a room,

you glided in.

When you twirled your cloak about,

I used to think

you were the most magnificent thing I ever saw.

Did you really?

Oh, I begin to feel it now.

The fever?

Good, you're going back through the years.

Oh, this dizziness...

Oh, Carl.

Perhaps the liquid and whiskey don't mix.

Oh, nonsense.

You're going back to your youth

the same way you left it:

full of whiskey.

The liquid is taking effect.

I'm young again.

I'm young!

You've done it. Let me feel your grip.

Here.

It's like iron.

What a night of miracles this has been.

What if it wears off?

What if the liquid doesn't give us youth permanently?

We can drink some more.

It's been dripping in the crypt for almost 40 years.

It could go on dripping forever.

What a wonderful way to be young.

All we have to do is to be thirsty.

The two thirstiest old coots in the world.

The two thirstiest young coots!

I can't wait to see the expression

on the townspeople's faces when they see us.

Sylvia.

If only Sylvia could see us.

Sylvia? Yes, of course.

Alex,

perhaps she will see us.

What?

What are you saying?

Why shouldn't Sylvia have a chance

to share in our miracle?

But you can't give her the water.

A dead person can't drink.

Of course not, but there are ways.

Carl, Carl, I beg of you,

don't try to bring back the dead!

Alex, you said it yourself:

"A chance to live our lives over."

If I could have that marriage to Sylvia--

Marriage?

Carl, you couldn't.

Alex,

I devoted one lifetime to Sylvia.

I'm perfectly willing to devote another.

How are you going to do it?

It seems that even the fates are conspiring to help us.

A few years ago,

a certain Dr. Pravaz, a Frenchman,

invented a singular instrument.

What does it do?

My patients seem to object being jabbed by it, but

I'd say it's quite effective.

Carl, wait.

I'm not sure that I want to be a part of this.

Alex, we three were inseparable.

Should Sylvia come back,

I'm certain that she would want you to be there.

You must stay.

But perhaps you will be going too far.

I mean, people are meant to grow old and die.

Sylvia never had a chance to grow old.

Perhaps this will give it to her.

I thought I saw her finger move.

No, I saw nothing.

Look. She's trying to breathe.

Sylvia, come back to me.

Breathe.

She's breathing normally.

Sylvia.

Sylvia, it's Carl.

Carl Heidegger. I'm here.

I'm waiting for you.

Carl?

She's alive again. She remembers my name.

Her eyes, look, her eyes are opening.

She can see again, the Lord in His infinite mercy.

Carl?

Is everything ready for the wedding?

The wedding?

Always so absent-minded.

Have you forgotten?

Our wedding is tomorrow.

Your wedding 38 years ago.

It's the last thing she remembers.

What is it you say?

38 years?

Sylvia, it's difficult to explain.

What do you mean, wedding of 38 years ago?

Sylvia...

And this rag?

Why am I dressed this way?

Sylvia, be calm.

Just listen, please.

If this is some hideous prank--

No, Sylvia, no.

It's just that something very strange has happened.

Sylvia.

Have you no recollection

of the sudden illness that struck you

on the night we were to be married?

That was just a few hours ago.

I was feeling weak and tired, but

I'm all right now.

You died.

You have been dead for 38 years.

Dead?

38 years?

He's insane!

You died, Sylvia.

You've been dead for 38 years.

1859?

Alex, tell me he's mad.

No, Sylvia, it's the truth.

I haven't changed.

And both of you,

the years haven't changed you either.

That's thanks to a miracle

that was made known to us this very evening.

What are you talking about?

Please, come sit down.

This evening,

we found a peculiar liquid

dripping from the ceiling of your crypt.

After testing it,

we learned

that it had the power to restore eternal youth.

Since you'd been preserved by it,

we were able to bring you back to the living.

Carl,

is this true?

Oh, it's as true as heaven and earth, my love.

I can stay alive?

Forever?

Oh, forever.

Oh, darling, if you only knew

how much I've loved you all these years.

How I've cherished your memory

and could dream of no other woman but you.

You never married?

There's never been another woman.

We can still be married, as if nothing had happened.

Nothing can stop us now.

Darling, I saved your wedding dress.

You didn't.

I'll get it for you.

May I get something for you?

Would you care for some wine?

Is it good wine, Alex?

Such as we had yesterday?

That yesterday of 38 years ago, of course.

Please, Sylvia.

When we had our final argument.

Sylvia, please.

He'll hear you.

Don't let him know. It would break his heart.

And what of my heart, Alex?

You had no conscience about that, did you?

I loved you, you know that.

Love?

To take all a woman has to offer,

and then refuse to marry her:

Is that your idea of love?

You know how I felt

about marriage from the beginning.

I loved you, but I wanted to be free.

You gave yourself to me.

Are you trying to say that I seduced you?

Do you think you would've been happy

marrying him to spite me?

I wanted to be your wife, not just another woman.

If only you had loved me enough.

Isn't it love enough

that a man would murder for you?

Murder?

Do you know why you became ill

so suddenly the night before your wedding?

I poisoned you.

You think I wanted to see you in the arms of another man?

But you insisted on mocking me,

by going ahead with your spite marriage to Carl.

You forced me to do what I had to do.

All right.

Maybe I was wrong to have that much pride,

but we could be married now.

We've been given another chance.

We can't make the same mistake again.

How can I tell Carl?

He's lived like a monk all these years,

holding onto your memory

as if it were something sacred.

I've never destroyed the illusion for him.

I don't know as I could do it now.

All I know is

I don't want to live again

if I can't have you.

Tell him the truth.

You must, Alex.

Please.

I'll try.

Sylvia, look.

Look.

As white and pure

as the day you first tried it on.

Put it on, my dear.

A new future begins for us tonight.

Go on, my dear.

Carl,

couldn't this wait until tomorrow?

I've done nothing else but wait.

No, no, no, there'll be no more wasted years,

no more wasted minutes.

Life is too precious.

Go on, my dear, put it on.

I want to see you

as lovely and radiant as you should be.

Then we'll burn all this in the fireplace

with all the other memories of the past.

Oh.

As my best friend, Alex,

you must give the bride away tomorrow at our wedding.

Well, it's so late.

Must we discuss it now?

Well, you don't seem very enthusiastic

about our wedding.

What do you expect?

I just haven't grown used to all this, yet.

Carl.

Yes?

There's something I must say to you.

Yes?

It's about Sylvia.

What is it you want to say to me,

my old friend?

That you ruined my life once?

That you're about to do it again?

You heard us?

Or are you trying to tell me

that you turned Sylvia

into little more than a harlot?

Carl!

Carl!

Don't.

Use reason.

Carl.

Argh!

Argh!

Carl.

Forgive me, I...

Carl.

We were such good friends.

The water doesn't last.

Sylvia!

Oh, no.

You've stopped.

Don't stop, damn you.

Don't stop. I need you.

You've taken Carl and Sylvia away from me.

You left me nothing.

You left me nothing.

Nothing.

Man's dream of eternal youth:

An illusion that begins

with the first awakening of his mind

and lasts until the moment

when he goes to his final rest.

Only a dream, perhaps.

But what would life be without our dreams?

Among the most beautiful

and wonderful of the lord's creations

are the things that grow from the earth.

It is strange, indeed,

that the verdant green of grass and leaf,

the myriad colors and fragrances of flowers,

all meant to be solace to the soul of man,

can be so distorted

that their very essence become evil,

their only use, death.

Mistress Rappaccini.

I must apologize if I frightened you.

But after seeing you down there for the past three days,

I was lost. I had to find out your name.

Fortunately, my landlady is an understanding woman.

I'm Giovanni Guasconti.

How do you do, Mr. Guasconti?

Now, if you'll forgive me--

Oh, but wait. I wanted to talk to you.

What is it you wish to say, Mr. Guasconti?

Well, I, uh...

This is my first time in Padua.

I'm going to the university.

I'm from Naples.

I've read about Naples.

Well, it's much bigger than Padua,

and has a beautiful bay.

In the sun, it glistens like a necklace

that should be hung around a pretty girl's neck.

May I come down there and tell you more about it?

No!

No. I...

I'm sorry.

I must bring this package to the house immediately.

When can we talk again?

Signore ,

I have brought you fresh bedding.

Being my landlady

doesn't give you the privilege of spying on me.

I-I-I felt responsible. I...

I told you her name.

Then tell me why she acted so afraid of me.

I can only tell you what I know.

In the 20 years that they have allowed me to live here,

I have never seen a visitor

go into that house.

Why?

Make of it what you will.

You will study chapters 3,

4,

and 5.

I hope you do better this time.

Now, off with you.

Professor.

Ah, my young friend, Giovanni.

You get to look more like your father every day.

You have some question about the lesson?

Uh, no, sir. It's, uh...

Quite personal. It's...

It's about a girl.

Oh?

One minute, I think I'm in love with her.

The next minute, I say to myself:

"How can that be, Giovanni?"

I've never even been close enough to hold her hand.

And you think this is a problem

an old science professor can solve?

You've lived in Padua all your life.

You might know the family.

The name is Rappaccini.

This girl is called Beatrice?

Then you do know her?

I have never seen her.

No one has...

Except you, apparently.

This is crazy.

20 years ago,

the girl's father, Giacomo Rappaccini,

taught science in this very room.

There were many who thought he was destined to be

the greatest scientist of our century.

Then, suddenly, he gave up his career--

everything.

He locked himself inside his house

and no one has seen him since.

But what of Beatrice? Surely, she--

she may have been the cause of it.

No one really knows.

All that the people of Padua have learned is that

after the girl was born,

Rappaccini's wife deserted him,

ran away with another man.

That was when he left the university

and locked his door in the face of the world.

Come, come,

there are plenty of other girls in Padua.

Thank you, professor. You've been very kind.

What's the matter, father?

Has it grown too strong for you?

The radiation from the acid's heat

has exceeded even my expectations.

Nevertheless, you know that I could destroy it

if I wished to.

But then I would die.

And you don't want to lose us both...

Do you?

Beatrice.

You fail to see the humor, father?

The infusion will take three blooms.

You will get them.

We share the same life, my friend,

only you're the more fortunate.

You don't have to think.

Lisabetta did well.

These are fine specimens.

Your daughter is a fine specimen, too,

is she not, father?

A specimen of the most deadly thing

that was ever given life.

The day will come when you will thank me.

How long would it take for me to die

if these infusions didn't take place?

My only concern is with your life.

No matter.

The only difference in being dead

is that this house is bigger than a grave.

10 seconds...

And the potency is correct.

Shall we give the poor creature

a burial, father?

We could inscribe on its gravestone:

"It died that Beatrice Rappaccini might live."

You never understand how fortunate you are

that none of the world's sin can touch you.

As it touched my--

I do not wish to hear her name.

Of course not.

Lock it from your mind,

as you've locked us from the world.

The world?

What is this sudden picture you have of the world?

A stupid boy on a balcony?

Is that what you see?

I see a human being who can laugh,

and think of me as a woman,

not death.

Good morning.

Good morning.

What a wonderful way to greet the day,

seeing such loveliness.

We'd better not talk very long today.

You're gonna be late for your class at the university.

Let's see, now.

For the past month, we have discussed philosophy,

history and world events,

and all from my window.

You know what I dreamed last night?

That you invited me down there.

And I thought I was dead because it was heaven.

It isn't, is it?

I think it must be heaven

to be able to go to the university.

Giovanni, you're going to be late.

You know you are.

All right, my remote Princess, I'll go.

Now, hold onto that until I see you again.

Oh, signore .

I have use for this key.

Oh, no, you mustn't.

No one is allowed to go in there. No one.

I won't tell them

that you so generously opened the gate for me.

I'll tell them I dropped in from the sky

like an avenging angel.

No, signore , you mustn't.

Giovanni!

Don't!

Don't!

The insect will still have the poison on it.

Poison?

I saw the butterfly die--

burned.

What is it?

What happened?

Giovanni...

You had no right to come in the garden.

If you kept that kiss I threw you

from my window this morning,

then I have every right.

Here, these are for you.

Thank you, Giovanni, but...

I can't.

You know, the closer I get,

the more beautiful you are?

Don't come closer, please.

Don't ever come closer.

Ever?

Please.

Put the flowers on the bench.

Now, leave the garden.

My father doesn't want anyone to--

But why not, my dear?

Have I ever prevented you from having guests?

Father.

You should introduce me to your young friend.

I'm your neighbor, sir.

Giovanni Guasconti.

My pleasure, sir.

I see that you find my garden attractive.

Your garden has many attractions, sir.

Giovanni, please.

Please, leave now.

But tomorrow is Easter Sunday.

Surely, you can go to church with me.

No. I've tried to tell you.

But of course you can go to church with him, my dear.

Why shouldn't you?

Did I say something to offend her, sir?

Young ladies are sometimes

very difficult to understand, Mr. Guasconti.

Perhaps tomorrow, she'll--

Yes, perhaps.

Good day.

Good day, sir.

Did you feel very superior, father,

making a fool of us both?

Under the circumstances, I thought I was most kind.

You see?

I even brought your flowers to you.

It's strange, seeing flowers that weren't meant to kill.

Well, here, take them, my dear.

After all, he brought them to you with his own hands.

He held them.

And now you hold them.

A very pretty, sentimental thought, is it not?

Giovanni!

Giovanni!

Giovanni, I must talk to you.

Please, come down. I'll open the gate.

Giovanni, I had to talk to you.

Let's talk in town.

They'll be celebrating for the holidays.

No. I can't go.

There's no place I can go.

Haven't you realized that by now?

This isn't a prison, Beatrice.

That gate is open.

Oh Giovanni, if it were only true.

That's why I must talk to you.

Forget me, Giovanni.

Forget you ever saw me.

Is that why you called me down here?

To tell me to forget you?

Why should I? I couldn't forget you if I wanted to.

We must both forget, Giovanni.

Beatrice, I don't--

No further.

Listen to me. You must listen.

You saw the butterfly die

when it touched that plant.

Yes.

You would die if you touched me.

What kind of nonsense is that?

Why should you and that plant--

This is what you must understand.

Do you expect me to believe such ridiculous--

It's the truth.

Let my hand touch yours.

Will I die?

Are you telling me that if I should kiss you,

I'd fall dead, as that butterfly did?

Yes. As air is your life, so is poison mine.

This is the way I've been ever since I was born.

Since my father made me what I am.

Your father?

We're both his creations, the plant and I.

He used its poisons to change the chemistry of my blood.

I refuse to accept such a--

Oh.

How can I make you understand?

Wait.

Wait.

See that lizard, Giovanni?

Watch it.

Watch that poor creature die.

Do you still want me, Giovanni?

Does it still seem so pleasant to want me in your arms?

In god's name,

why has your father done this?

So that I can never sin, as my mother did.

So that no man can ever touch me with evil.

Now you know.

Beatrice!

Beatrice. Beatrice.

No! No!

Beatrice!

You tried to kill yourself.

You tried to take your own life.

Oh!

I want to die.

Oh, please, let me die!

Beatrice, child, I only wanted to protect you from trouble.

I never wanted to see you hurt.

Did you think I would never need

a man's love, or his strength?

But all these years we've had together,

it can't be ended because of that boy.

You blame him?

Are you so insane

that you don't know what you've done?

But to take your own life because of him?

Do you think I won't try again?

You won't always be around to stop me.

It was right to awaken me, Giovanni.

Never have I seen anything like this.

The acid has eaten away

every organ of the lizard's body.

What kind of a monster is this Rappaccini?

Is this what he has come to call science?

He tried to warn me, to keep me away.

How can I help her? Perhaps it's impossible.

Patience, Patience, Giovanni.

There are many things I can try.

It will take time.

Now go home, try to get some sleep.

No.

Please. There is nothing you can do here.

If there's any hope at all--

I'll let you know at once.

Yes, sir.

And so, unfortunately, Beatrice couldn't be here.

She was quite upset by what happened.

I had to give her something to make her sleep.

But then perhaps it's just as well

that we talk by ourselves.

When I realized how serious things were

between the two of you,

I wanted you to have an explanation.

An explanation, or a hopeless apology

for what you've done to her?

You think my knowledge is so little

that I cannot undo what I have done?

Do you think I would have brought you here

to offer my daughter's hand in marriage

if I did not think you could be married?

If that is the truth--

Beatrice wants you.

Her happiness is my only concern.

Sir, it is mine, too.

Good. Then shall we drink on that?

Are you sure Beatrice will be all right, sir?

Yes.

I don't know what your experiments were,

but if it had to do with making her immune to poison--

You need not concern yourself.

The greater feat, Giovanni,

would have been to make the human mind

immune to the poison of evil,

rather than the poison of chemistry.

To the only two men

who will ever be in my daughter's life.

Sir,

an hour ago, I felt as if the world

had been pulled out from under me.

Now the world is back where it should be.

Whatever else you learn in your life,

remember this:

There is no more potent force,

nothing can drive a man harder or faster

to success or destruction,

than the love of a woman.

I think I...

I didn't get much sleep last...

What is this thing?

What are you doing?

It's already done.

What?

You wanted Beatrice, didn't you?

You can have her now.

Do you understand that?

As long as you both shall live,

there can never be anyone else

for either of you.

There will be no evil in your lives, no sin.

What are you saying?

Go to her, Giovanni. Touch her.

Take her in your arms.

Kiss her. Make her your wife.

Make her your wife. Nothing can harm you now.

You changed me.

You stand alone, the two of you,

against all of the foul things in this world.

Why don't you thank me?

Or are you speechless with happiness?

You've made me the same thing she is.

That's what you wanted, didn't you?

Holy wedlock that no man could put asunder?

You're out of your mind, insane.

You had no right! You had no right!

You'll come back, Giovanni.

There's nowhere else you can go.

You'll have to come back.

There's no place you can go.

You'll come back.

This terrible thing that Rappaccini

has done to you and his daughter...

Why, it's so complex.

Are you telling me that you cannot help us?

I'm not sure.

I have said the problem is complex.

What Rappaccini has succeeded in doing,

is converting the poisonous China tree of India,

so that the plant's own juices manufacture

a strange solution of hydrocyanic acid.

That's what my blood has become?

That is what I hope it has become.

What do you mean?

We know that to touch the plant means death.

However, I have managed to find an antidote

which will destroy all effects of the acid's radiation.

Professor!

Under a microscope.

But how do I know what it will do to you?

It would take years of testing

to find the result on the human system.

Years?

Every hour is a thousand years.

Beatrice and I have no time.

Give it to me.

Giovanni,

can my conscience let you have it?

Can your conscience refuse me?

No, please, put it there.

Whatever happens, sir,

we will always be in your debt.

May god go with you.

Beatrice!

Beatrice!

Beatrice.

There's no need to stay away from me now.

What are you saying?

You still don't know what happened last night?

You see, I'm still alive.

Giovanni.

That was your father's answer to us.

He couldn't change you, so he changed me.

Oh, no.

Giovanni, I didn't want that.

If I'd known...

Now we're both locked in.

We're both prisoners.

No, we can escape.

Professor Baglioni made this.

It's an antidote.

He said it could counteract the poison.

If it will really free us...

Pray, Beatrice.

No!

Quickly, give it to me.

No, wait.

Giovanni!

Beatrice!

Oh, Giovanni!

Oh!

Oh!

The fool.

Poison was his life, like yours.

It could only kill him.

You've murdered him.

But you wanted him. I gave him to you.

You could have been together.

Then, we will be.

Beatrice. Beatrice.

Beatrice.

Beatrice,

Beatrice, child,

I only wanted to give you happiness.

How could you give me something

you don't have yourself?

You could only give me hate.

Giovanni.

Giovanni.

Wait for me.

I'll always love you, wherever I...

Giovanni.

Where does evil begin,

and where does it end?

Can the eye of man discern the fine line

that separates sanity from madness?

If not, can there be a judge so wise

that he can measure a man's reasons

for the sins he commits?

The House of the Seven Gables

began its existence

in a year of terror.

It was in 1691

that mass hysteria gripped New England,

and innocent people were executed as witches.

Yes, it was a time of horror and blood,

and left a mark on the house that was not to be forgotten

for more than 150 years.

So you've finally dared to come back.

This is my wife Alice. My sister Hannah.

Gerald, are you sure we have a right to intrude?

Intrude?

This is as much my house as it is my sister's.

Is that not so, Hannah?

Your absence of 17 years makes me question that right.

Would you please take these up

to the second floor?

My feet took me this far.

But they're not taking me

one step further into this house.

Why did he say that?

The man's an idiot. It means nothing.

I wouldn't be too sure, Gerald.

Don't you think the whole town knows

a male Pyncheon has returned?

I'm afraid we'll have to carry these up ourselves.

You will occupy your old room?

Yes.

If it's possible, two rooms might be better.

Gerald is a light sleeper.

He doesn't like to disturb me.

Very well.

You may have the guest room, next to mine.

Hannah, if our being here

is a great inconvenience to you--

I can only say,

my brother made a great mistake in returning.

Hannah.

Yes?

May I ask why?

You really don't know, do you?

Whatever Gerald's reason

for coming here to live, the decision was his.

It isn't the first of his mistakes

I've had to accept.

What is it?

Oh,

I feel cold suddenly.

There's no draft here.

It's a strange kind of cold.

I think I'll feel better in the morning

when I can look out the window

and see the garden,

the arbor, the old well.

How did you know what's outside that window?

The garden is there, isn't it?

Yes, it's there.

I don't know how I knew about the garden.

Gerald never told me.

Hannah, how could...

Afraid of a bloodstained chair, Gerald?

Or does it hold too much knowledge

of our illustrious male ancestors who died in it?

Don't look forward to my early death, Hannah.

I have no intention

of honoring the chair with my corpse.

He didn't either.

You're a fool.

Has any man in our family ever died otherwise?

Then, I shall be the first not to.

I will not be frightened away.

When I get what I want from this house,

then I'll leave, and not before.

Do you think you can outwit a ghost?

Are you so immune to death

that you can defy a curse that has ruined this family?

I'll stay alive as long as is necessary.

You don't have a choice.

The man buried under this house won't wait.

Go back to your books of demons and witchcraft.

They're your only companions.

Why not? It wasn't the dead

who gambled away the family fortunes.

Now that you've bankrupted us,

you think you can take what is rightfully mine?

Yours?

You assume a great deal, my dear sister.

You'll never find that vault.

I've searched this house from top to bottom,

just as every Pyncheon

has searched it for 150 years.

The ghost won't let you find it.

It isn't where you look for it.

It's how.

Now let us see if a dead man can stop me.

Where's Gerald going?

He didn't say.

But if you want Gerald to live,

get him out of this house.

To live?

Do you see those bloodstains?

That was his blood. It ran from his lips.

The date is on his gravestone:

March 17th, 1691,

the very first night he lived in this house.

The Pyncheons are cursed.

Every male member of the family

has died the same way.

And unless Gerald leaves,

he too will die with blood on his lips.

Since we both live here now,

you can at least tell me who's coming tonight.

You'll find out when he gets here.

What are you hiding, Gerald?

I saw you run out of the house this afternoon.

If it's about finding the vault,

I'm entitled to know.

Are you entitled to meddle in my private affairs?

You had no right to tell Alice

about the bloodstains on the chair.

How long do you think

you can hold back the truth?

Perhaps your visitor isn't coming.

The time is long past

when the Pyncheons could give orders

and everyone had to obey.

You finally decided to join us.

Is your empty room

so much better company?

Somebody's coming.

What are you saying?

There's no one out there.

His name is Jonathan Maule.

Jonathan Maule?

Is he the one you expect?

Yes. And if you have any objections,

I don't care to hear them.

Who told you Jonathan Maule was coming here tonight?

Nobody told me.

He's here.

Jonathan Maule has come.

She's right. He's here.

How could you know

about a man named Jonathan Maule?

Have you ever met him?

No, I haven't.

Hannah, how could I know he was coming?

How?

You couldn't know,

unless something in this house

Made you know.

Mr. Pyncheon?

Yes, you got my note?

I returned home late from my business.

I heard music outside.

Yes, my wife was playing.

We can talk in the study, Mr. Maule.

Mrs. Pyncheon,

that music, where did you learn it?

I...

I never played it before.

I never even heard it before.

Mr. Maule?

I'm sorry.

Forgive me for barging in this way.

I was just surprised.

We can talk now, Mr. Maule.

Miss Pyncheon.

I never expected to see you in this house.

I never expected to be invited.

Have a seat, Mr. Maule.

I am not disregarding the long unpleasantness

that has existed between our families, sir.

But I always say that good whiskey

is better than oil to toss on troubled waters.

And so, your health, sir.

It's not like a Pyncheon

to ask a Maule to pass the time of day.

No, of course not,

not unless they both had something to gain.

Our ancestors would say

the Pyncheons did all the gaining.

We live in an enlightened age, Mr. Maule.

A family feud that began in 1690

can scarcely affect us.

What is it you want, Pyncheon?

I would like to make a trade with you, sir.

For generations,

your family has been in possession

of certain information.

Are you referring to the vault

hidden in this house?

Precisely, sir.

Your ancestor was the architect of this place.

He would've known where the vault is.

Didn't your sister tell you

that she tried to find out what I know 10 years ago?

I presumed she had.

But I have a different proposition to make, sir:

The House of the Seven Gables, for your information.

What are you offering me, Pyncheon?

A decayed tomb,

built on land that was stolen from my ancestors?

The courts settled that issue 150 years ago, sir.

Courts that the Pyncheons controlled.

If I did know where the vault is,

you couldn't get it out of me at any price.

My family has suffered enough

from the curse that was put on them by a Maule.

Have you explained that

to the man buried in your cellar?

I say that the curse is finished.

The past stays in the past.

Does it?

The curse said that the Pyncheons

would have blood to drink.

Are you so sure now

that the past stays in the past?

Mrs. Pyncheon.

Mr. Maule, please.

You seemed to understand something

about the music I was playing tonight,

more than I understand myself.

The music is very old.

The only time I ever heard it

was when I was a child and my grandmother played it.

And still, I know it.

I seem to know many things I shouldn't know,

and always when a strange, cold chill

comes over me,

as if it was possessing me.

I knew your name before I heard it.

I could sense that you were at the door

before you knocked.

Then, what you want from me

is an explanation.

Mr. Maule, if there is one,

please, I must know.

How can I explain my own impressions tonight?

When I got your husband's note,

I wasn't going to come.

But something kept coming to my mind,

compelling me to come.

I swear that while I was still in my own home,

I could see you playing that music.

It was your face,

the very dress you're wearing,

the way your hands moved the keys.

I knew you as though I'd known you since I was born,

or even before that.

Yes, I think I felt the same way myself.

But we never met before tonight.

What's happening to us, Mr. Maule?

You know, there is a curse against this house.

Hannah told me something.

Did she also tell you that the man

who spoke that curse against the Pyncheons,

Matthew Maule, was buried under the house?

Last night,

my door opened, but there was nobody there,

and yet someone, or something, came into my room.

I could feel that it was there.

And when it was gone,

I found this,

this locket.

This painting, it's of you.

No.

I don't know who she is,

and I don't know what the locket means.

I wasn't going to meet you out here like this,

but something drove me to it

so I could give it to you.

Then, perhaps it has the answer for us.

I don't know what that answer can be.

I'm not so sure that I want to know.

I'm going to leave here.

I'm going to forget

that the house of seven gables ever existed.

Alice!

Alice?

Alice!

Alice, I want to talk to you.

Gerald, we have nothing to talk about.

All I want to do is get out of this house.

You'll leave when I tell you.

Gerald, I can't stand anymore.

I feel as if I'm losing my mind.

Please don't try to stop me.

I'm going to leave first thing in the morning.

Alice, you are my wife. You'll do as I--

Nora.

Nora.

Nora.

Nora.

Matthew, you've come,

after all these years of waiting.

Nora.

You called me Matthew.

Why, there...

There was another man here.

He...

He had a leather apron of a blacksmith.

Matthew Maule had his blacksmith's forge here,

near this well,

before the House of the Seven Gables was built.

What did he want of me?

Why did he have me come down to the garden?

Perhaps because he knew I'd be here.

I said to you that I felt

as if I might have known you before I was born.

Now I think it was long before that.

I think what we feel

might have begun 150 years ago.

Was the locket supposed to tell us that?

I believe so.

Alice,

was your grandmother's name Holbrook,

Deborah Holbrook?

Oh.

How did you know that?

I've been going through old papers

and records since you gave me the locket.

Alice, the girl in the locket is Nora Holbrook.

Matthew called me Nora.

Nora Holbrook was the girl

Matthew was to marry before he was hanged.

He was condemned as a witch

by colonel Jeffrey Pyncheon,

because Pyncheon wanted this land,

the land we're on right now.

Then, why is Matthew's grave there?

When Pyncheon wanted the house built,

he was forced to use the only architect in town,

Matthew's brother.

Oh, these were superstitious times, Alice.

Pyncheon defied Matthew's curse,

despite the brother

wanting to make it come true.

The curse has come true.

Alice, that music you played.

Yes?

It was music Nora Holbrook wrote for Matthew.

Can't you understand?

Matthew was hanged

before he and Nora could realize their love.

But that love didn't die with Matthew.

He wants it to live again, through us.

Jonathan,

we can't have that love.

Then, why have we been drawn together this way

if we are supposed to love each other?

Are you about to do something you'll regret?

Get out of my way.

I saw them from my window.

Then you know why I'm going to kill Maule.

Kill the one chance you have

of finding the vault?

Can you be so blind

that you haven't realized

that they are the key?

They? You're insane.

I want my share of the money.

I'll not let you spoil it.

Am I supposed to let him take away my wife?

You can't eat pride.

When you find the vault,

then you can do whatever you want.

Not now.

Jonathan.

I'm still Gerald's wife.

Please leave now.

Alice--

We won't see each other again.

All right.

I only wish that I had the right

to speak for my own love,

not Matthew's.

Nora.

Nora.

Nora.

Why did you come down here?

I can't tell you.

Why not?

Did Jonathan Maule send you down here?

No.

Don't lie. He told you where he vault is.

Why, that's not true.

Shall I force you to tell me the truth?

What is it?

Are you ready to open doors to Jonathan

that you've kept locked from me?

Gerald!

Ah!

Who can be in the house?

What is it, Alice?

The ghost of Matthew Maule?

Why?

Has he been conjured up out of his grave

by Jonathan to come between you and me?

Is that what he wants?

I told you to leave this house.

You brought back Matthew Maule,

you and no one else.

If I'm the one you want, Maule,

then here I am.

I'm waiting.

Destroy me if you can.

Because if you don't, I'll get what I want,

and then you will have lost.

Get some water, Gerald.

It is blood.

Some water!

What did you expect?

The water is from Maule's well.

The plaster in the walls is mixed with it.

Did you expect anything else

but blood from Matthew Maule?

But I'm still here, Hannah.

And I haven't tasted blood yet.

If this is the extent of Maule's revenge,

then he can't stop me from finding that vault.

It's moving.

Do you mind if I watch?

Then I can be sure we'll share whatever you find.

If that old deed to the land in Maine is in the vault,

it'll be worth millions.

More than enough for both of us.

His arm,

it's gone.

Matthew Maule was a blacksmith,

a man with two arms.

Jonathan sent Alice down here.

The secret to the vault must be in the grave.

The portrait in the study.

And this arrow,

it could mean a lever was concealed there.

You were right.

Jonathan Maule and my wife were the key.

They wanted the deed for themselves.

Are you satisfied now?

A Pyncheon has outlasted the Maules.

Are you sure you will be that Pyncheon?

This says that I will.

Or do you have some ambitious notion

concerning yourself?

The power of the curse was never directed

against a Pyncheon woman.

I shall be quite content

to share the new fortune with you,

as long as you live.

You seem very confident, my dear sister.

It was you who told me

my natural companions are witches and demons.

What do I have to fear?

Shall we go upstairs and share our victory?

Why not? It's a night for celebration.

But I intend to celebrate it alone.

You killed her!

Your own sister, in god's name!

Where would you run, to the police?

You want me hanged as a murderer

so that you can go to Jonathan, is that it?

He told me not to come back in this house.

He knew it was evil.

He told me what was here. Let me go!

Yes of course, my dear wife.

I'll let you go to Jonathan.

On second thought,

suppose we compromise,

and I give you to a different Maule?

Gerald!

Gerald!

Aagh!

Aagh!

Aagh!

Alice.

Alice!

Alice!

Alice!

Alice!

Alice!

The last Pyncheon has died.

The curse is ended.

Thus did the House of the Seven Gables

come to its end:

destroyed by the decay of greed and hate

that had corroded its very foundations.

It was a time now for Matthew Maule

to find peace.