Original subtitles

Good evening.

As you see, my real name is Henri Verdoux...

and for 30 years I was an honest bank clerk, until the Depression of 1930...

in which year I found myself unemployed.

It was then I became occupied in liquidating...

members of the opposite sex.

This I did as a strictly business enterprise...

to support a home and family.

But let me assure you that the career of a bluebeard...

is by no means profitable.

Only a person with undaunted optimism...

would embark on such a venture.

Unfortunately, I did.

What follows is history.

Shh!

- Jean? - What?

- There's the postman. Might be a letter from your sister. - Yes, it might.

Can't you put that book down and see what it is?

No, I can't.

You should be ashamed, talking that way to your sister.

I wish you wouldn't open your large mouth. It's causing a draft.

- Do what you're told! - Ah, shut up.

- It's no use, Phoebe. He won't do a thing. - Then he should be made to.

- Who's gonna make me? - If your father was alive, he'd make you.

Keep your big feet to yourself! Sprawling them all over the floor!

You should talk, with those two submarines.

- Get up and do as you're told! - Let your husband get up. I'm reading.

Don't bother. I'll do it, Carlotta.

There. Now look what you've done!

See? If you'd answered the bell, it wouldn't have happened.

All right. I'll answer it.

- Here, hold this. - Phoebe, you could be more careful.

I didn't do it. It was an accident!

- At least look where you're going. - You both look where you're going!

I didn't do it. Lena got in the way.

All right. Don't shriek.

What the —

You old fool!

Don't talk to me that way. I'm not your wife.

I should say not. One's enough in this family.

If you don't like this family, you know what you can do.

Don't worry. Someday I'll do it.

What's it all about, anyway?

From the Paris National Bank.

- I knew it. - Now what?

- The bank's returned our letter. - What letter?

The one we sent Thelma. She's drawn out her money, closed her account, and left no address.

- We ought to inform the police. - Why?

It's not like Thelma to cut herself off from her family this way.

Don't worry about Thelma. She can take care of herself.

It doesn't look like it. A woman of 50 flitting off to Paris...

and marrying a man she's only known for two weeks.

You don't have to run to the police about it.

We haven't heard from her in three months!

So what? She's still on her honeymoon.

"Honeymoon"!

Who'd ever spend three months honeymooning with Thelma?

What I don't like is drawing all her money out of the bank.

- That's not Thelma. - He's got it all by now.

He'll have a grim task prying it away from her.

Look what he's done already: made her leave home...

give up her family, sell her business...

and marry him, all in two weeks.

He must certainly have a way with the women.

I'd like to know his technique.

Ah, you're condemning the man, and you haven't even met him.

That's just it. If he were honest, he wouldn't avoid us.

Something terrible's happened to Thelma. I know it!

Oh, you make me tired, all of you.

Just because she hasn't written, she's either been robbed or murdered.

"Murdered"? Nobody said she was murdered.

- We hope. - We ought to go to the police right now!

You'd better wait a while. You're all hysterical now.

I think Pierre's right.

Let's wait a day or two.

Then, if we don't hear from her, we'll go to the police.

Hey, we have a picture of that husband of hers. Where is it?

I've got it...

right here.

Funny-lookin' bird, isn't he?

Must be a pretty good salesman to sell anything with a face like that.

I wonder how long he's going to keep that incinerator burning.

It's been going like that for three days.

I know. I haven't had a chance to put my washing out.

Oh là là.

You'll be stepped upon if you're not careful.

There.

- Good morning, monsieur. - Good morning.

I have a registered letter for Madame Thelma Varnay.

Ah, thank you.

Oh, no. Madame will have to sign for it.

Oh, I see. Just a moment.

Thelma. Thelma, darling. A registered letter, my dear.

You must sign for it.

Don't bother to get out of the bathtub. Just dry your hands.

Here. Here's a pencil.

There. That's it.

Be careful, now, you don't catch cold.

There.

- Thank you, monsieur. Good morning. - Good morning.

Long-distance, please. Hello?

I want Balong and Company, Paris Stock Exchange.

Reaumur 6572.

♪♪

- Good morning, monsieur. - Good morning.

From the Dupont Employment Agency.

Ah, yes, yes, yes. Come in, come in, come in.

- These are your references, huh? - Oui, monsieur.

- You understand the work is only for a day or so? - Oui, monsieur.

- Mm-hmm. What is your name? - Louise.

Then, Louise, you can start in by cleaning out the drawers and dusting everything.

Ah, but before you do...

you'd better take down the curtains and pack them in there.

Leave everything on the sideboard. I'll take an inventory of it later.

You go on with your work. I'll answer it.

Hello? Balong and Company?

This is Monsieur Verdoux. Mm-hmm.

I want to buy at opening prices tomorrow morning...

500 shares of Continental Gas...

500 shares of Consolidated Copper...

and 100 shares of Central Carbine.

Mm-hmm. The same 20-point margin. Yes.

I'm wiring the money. It'll be there first thing in the morning.

Correct. Au revoir.

She no sooner married him than she disappeared...

off the face of the earth.

Do you have any means of identifying this man?

We had a snapshot of him...

but Lena threw it in the fireplace by mistake.

- Too bad. - But I'd know him if I ever saw him.

- So would I. - I believe we have all the particulars.

If we get any information, we will let you know.

Merci, monsieur.

- Good day, madame. - Good day, monsieur.

- Monsieur. - Monsieur.

Monsieur.

- What's on your mind? - Funny. In the past three years...

12 women have disappeared from these different cities.

In many circumstances, the history of each case is similar to this one.

- In what way? - All these women are middle-aged...

with a small income or a little property.

From what I can see, nearly all married the same type of man.

You mean he's the husband of all these women?

It looks that way to me.

According to these dates, he must've been married to a half dozen at the same time.

That's it. He's the proverbial sailor...

but in his case it's a wife in every port.

- What's his racket? - I don't know yet.

- Insurance? - No, he's too smart for that.

But not one of these women has shown up, and I doubt they ever will.

- Murdered 'em, huh? - That's just it.

He's a bluebeard —

a mass killer operating in cities all over the country.

Not so fast. Before you hit the public with that idea...

you better get a few more facts under your belt.

- Monsieur Varnay? - At your service, monsieur.

Monsieur Nutal, the real estate agent.

This is Madame Grosnay. Monsieur Varnay.

- How do you do? - How do you do?

Madame would like to look over your house...

if it's not too inconvenient.

By no means. Won't you come in?

You'll pardon me. I'm all disheveled.

I've been so busy, I haven't had time to brush up or do a thing.

- Oh, what lovely roses! - Do you like them? From my garden.

Mm, they're divine.

- Louise? - Oui, monsieur?

Will you wrap up these roses for Madame Grosnay?

You'll find tissue paper in the left-hand kitchen drawer.

- Oui, monsieur. - Oh!

Oh, no. You want them for yourself.

Madame, I want them appreciated.

I therefore give them to you.

This way, please.

This is the sitting room.

Solid oak doors and floors throughout the house.

Mahogany wainscoting in all the rooms.

- Architecturally, it's a perfect house. - Thank you.

Here we have rather a lovely view...

of the mountains and the sea below.

Oh! Those beautiful hills.

Mm-hmm. That's the work of the Supreme Architect.

I'm afraid we can't compete with that.

Then there's the garden: 175 feet by 85...

with seven fruit trees — three apples, two pears...

one plum and a mulberry — and, of course, my rosebushes.

- Quite an atmosphere. - Yes.

My wife put a great deal of herself in this house.

We were supremely happy here. I, uh — I think one feels that.

Yes, indeed. And may I offer my condolences?

- I beg your pardon? - The irreparable loss of your wife.

Ah, yes. It was very sudden.

A heart attack while visiting her family.

That's why I must give up this house. I must get away from the memory.

You'll pardon me, I trust.

We should get it for nothing.

Call again. I'm very busy.

This way, please.

This is the dining room, and to the left, the library.

Cozy, hmm?

Yes.

Uh, this way, please.

Upstairs.

It's a small house and requires very little to keep up.

We never had a servant, but there's a maid's room if you need one.

- I have a maid and a cook. - You could put an extra bed in the maid's room —

that is, if they're both females.

Or you could use one of the rooms upstairs...

unless, of course, you want it for your family.

- I have no family. - Just you and your husband, huh?

My husband has been dead for many years.

Indeed?

Eh, hmm. This way, please.

Monsieur Varnay.

- Yes? - Telephone for Monsieur Nutal, from his office.

Will you excuse me?

Plaisir.

This was my wife's bedroom.

We — Uh, pardon me.

Ah, yes. We called it our "Sans Souci."

She loved this room. In fact, she spent most of her time here.

- Very sunny. - Yes, we loved the sun.

- But some people don't like it shining in the bedroom. - Oh, I do.

- Mm-hmm. Scorpio. - I beg your pardon?

Your astrological sign.

- No, Aries. - Ah, yes. Of course.

Sky and sun. A dreamer.

It's in your eyes — deep pools of desire...

that can never be fulfilled or understood.

- Very interesting. - You are. Very interesting.

You see, I'm also Aries. I know all about us. We're old souls.

Strange that you should come on this day.

- I have a feeling it's destiny. - Indeed?

If I knew you better, I could explain.

Please do.

- However, you never married again? - No.

Singular. A woman of your temperament.

Why?

Because companionship is so essential to Aries people.

Oh, it's too late for that now.

What nonsense! You're just on the threshold of life.

One never begins to live until one is past, uh —

uh — uh — uh —

What difference does age make?

A great deal, to a woman.

I venture to say that you were never as attractive as you are now.

- You're very kind. - On the contrary. I'm very frank.

No doubt you were extremely beautiful as a young girl...

but your youth could never compete with your age now —

your — your ripeness...

your luxuriousness.

Besides, you have more character now...

more-more experience, more, uh —

more everything.

- You flatter me. - Why not?

Why shouldn't I respond to beauty...

as you did to those flowers downstairs?

"What lovely roses," you said...

and impulsively drew them near to your lips.

Lucky roses.

Ah, I only wish I had the courage to act upon my impulses.

However, life is that way. We can't —

Oh! You're divine. You're lovely.

- Please! - Words are so futile. I feel I've known you all my life.

- Oh, I must. - This is ridiculous!

No, this is beautiful, inevitable. We can't help ourselves.

Your loveliness inspired it. Blame your loveliness for it.

You are lovely.

- Don't be silly. - Please, try to understand.

And don't embarrass me. Oh, the silly conventions.

This is more than a convention.

- I hate to be obvious. Really. I — - Oh!

Oh, yes. There it goes. It's a bee. Hold still. I'll get it.

Isn't that silly?

- Are you hurt? - I must have slipped.

No doubt.

- I think we'd better go. - I think we had.

Wouldn't you care to see the other rooms?

Thank you. We've seen enough already. That is, pardon me.

Unless of course Madame would like to investigate further.

- No, thank you. - Very well, then.

Whatever Madame Grosnay decides, we'll let you know through our office.

Of course. However, I'd like to send you...

a book on astrology — that is, if you're interested.

- Please don't bother. - No bother, if I know where to get in touch with you.

- Through our office. - As you wish.

Ah, your roses. Don't forget your roses.

Oh. No, thank you. I'd rather not.

Madame, I shall be deeply grieved if you don't accept them.

Thank you.

- Au revoir, madame. - Au revoir.

- 'Voir. - 'Voir.

Flowers? Boutonniere?

Ah, Madame Yvonne. So nice to see you.

- Flower, monsieur? - Give me that one.

- Well, well. Monsieur Verdoux. - How do you do, sir?

I haven't seen you in ages. Tell me, what do you know?

I don't even suspect anything.

- Thank you. - You have finished?

- By all means. Won't you sit down? - Merci.

Monsieur Lavine, Monsieur Verdoux, an old friend of mine.

- Monsieur. - How do you do, sir?

- Verdoux was one of our cashiers in the bank. - Indeed?

- That was in the good old days. - Not so long ago.

- About three years ago. - Tell me, what are you doing now?

Oh, a little of everything. Real estate, stock market.

Well, you must have made a killing.

Yes.

- Market's low now, isn't it? - Now's the time to buy, when everybody's selling.

Uh, can I offer you something?

No, merci.

- Merci. - Then if you'll pardon me. - Of course.

- Good day, gentlemen. - Good day.

Oh, monsieur. Don't forget this.

Ah! Merci. Merci.

Poor old Verdoux.

Seems to be doing well.

You know, he got a pretty raw deal.

What do you mean?

He was with us over 30 years.

Along came the depression, and he was one of the first to go.

Yes, after 30 years.

Well, well, well, well. There you are.

Let's see what we have for you.

Henri Verdoux, furniture dealer.

This is Balong and Company. We've been trying to get you for the past hour.

There's been a big drop in the market. We need 50,000 francs.

- When do you need it? - First thing in the morning, as soon as the market opens.

Where can I get 50,000 francs by tomorrow morning?

Well, if you don't, you'll be wiped out.

I'll see what I can do.

Ah, dear, dear, dear, dear.

Ah, me, ah, me, ah, me.

Ah!

Ah, Lydia. The city of Corbell.

Let's see. In Corbell, the banks close at 4:00.

Mm-hmm. C, C, C.

Ah. "Corbell."

If I leave now, I can catch that 2:15 and be there by 3:30.

Gives me a half an hour.

Banks close at 4:00.

Lydia!

I thought you were in Indochina.

I was, my dear. I was.

Don't "dear" me.

Three months you've been away, and not a line from you.

- Didn't you get my letters? - What letters?

I wrote you practically every day.

All I got was a telegram three months ago.

Running off and leaving me here alone!

My dear, I have to travel. That's my business. I'm an engineer.

Too bad I didn't know that before I met you.

- Lydia. - Well, what do you want?

- Nothing, my dear. Nothing. - That's unusual.

I thought you might be pleased to see me, that's all.

Is that all?

The only time I see you is when you want something.

Lydia...

I refuse to quarrel with you.

It's too ugly.

Life can so easily degenerate into something sordid and vulgar.

Let us try to keep it beautiful and dignified.

We're not young anymore.

In the sunset of our lives...

we need companionship, love...

tenderness.

Most of all, we need each other.

Ah, Lydia.

We've had such beautiful...

inspiring moments together.

And we can have many more.

I'm getting too old for that nonsense.

There you go. Age again.

I thought I'd cured you of that complex.

I'm cured of you, running off the way you did.

- Lydia — - Sit down.

What were you doing in Indochina?

Building bridges. As a matter of fact, we ran into a lot of trouble.

The specifications of the superstructure were all wrong...

and we had to draw up new plans.

To climax everything, they canceled our contract on account of the crisis.

- What crisis? - The financial crisis.

What are you talking about?

Dear, the worst catastrophe that's happened in years.

- Banks will collapse everywhere. - It isn't in the newspapers.

Of course not. They're trying to keep it quiet. We were tipped off in advance.

Bah! I don't believe it.

However, don't bother your little head about such matters.

What do you mean, a financial crisis?

Wait and see. Tomorrow there'll be a run on every bank.

Fiddlesticks! It's all nonsense.

Of course, it's of no consequence to you...

but I happen to be vitally interested, that's all.

- So am I. - You?

You have nothing to worry about.

Don't be an idiot. Every penny I have is in ready cash in the bank.

- What? - You know that, you fool!

- What bank? - The Mutual Trust, of course.

Good heavens, that's the worst of all!

- Get it out immediately. What time is it? - Are you mad?

Woman, every bank in the country will be closed tomorrow.

- But what'll I do with the money? - Never mind now. We'll discuss it later.

But I don't want 70,000 francs lying about the house.

How much? Never mind. Don't talk. Hurry up. Quick. Ah.

I think it's a lot of lies.

Woman, you're losing time. The banks close at 4:00.

Quick! Hurry! Come on, my dear.

♪♪

I must be out of my mind to do a thing like this.

You wait and see.

Cashier said it was all nonsense.

You wouldn't expect him to say otherwise, would you?

I'd sooner believe him than you.

Why couldn't I leave all this in my safe deposit box? Why?

My dear, in a crisis like this, a revolution might happen...

a new government that would confiscate everything.

No, the best thing is to have it all here...

where you can lay your hands on it.

Where you can lay your hands on it!

Lydia, you're very tired.

What you need is a good night's rest.

I need my head examined, listening to you.

I've never heard of such a thing.

Emptying my whole safe deposit box and bringing it here.

Burglars might break in.

Hah! What nonsense.

Good thing we haven't any servants about the house.

It's perfectly safe tonight.

Should have been left where it was.

Very well. If you're uneasy about it, put it back.

You can do that the first thing in the morning.

I certainly will.

Turn out those lights.

Yes, my dear.

- Did you lock the doors? - Early this evening.

And latch our kitchen window?

Don't worry. Everything's attended to.

Well, did you?

Yes, my dear.

- What a night. - Yes, a full moon.

How beautiful this pale, Endymion hour.

What are you talking about?

Endymion, my dear.

A beautiful youth possessed by the moon.

Well, forget about him and get to bed.

Yes, my dear.

"Our feet were soft in flowers."

♪♪

Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Long distance, please.

Paris Stock Exchange. Reaumur 6572.

Hello? Balong and Company?

This is Monsieur Verdoux.

I'm wiring 50,000 francs this morning. Is that enough?

No, I won't be in Paris for some time.

I have one or two matters to clean up here first.

Mm-hmm. Very well. I'll keep in touch with you.

Bye.

Daddy!

Daddy!

- Mama. - What is it, Peter?

- Look! - Henri!

- Many happy returns, Mona. - "Happy returns"?

Surely you haven't forgotten. This is our wedding anniversary.

- Ten years ago today, my dear. - Good heavens. Of course.

You see? I have more sentiment about these things than you have.

Henri.

Ten years.

Wonderful years!

Thank you, my dear.

- Did you bring her a present? - Peter!

Well, women like those things.

However, I did bring her a present...

and here it is.

Henri, this is wonderful.

That they will never take away from us.

- What did you get, Mama? - The deed to this beautiful house and garden.

Peter? Peter?

Here's Jeannette. Run along now and get ready for supper.

Mama, can't I dine with you and Daddy?

Tonight, yes.

Ah...

what a relief to get away from the jungle fight.

The jungle fight?

- You're tired, Henri. - I suppose I am.

Ah, well. Two more years of this business...

and with a little luck, we'll be able to retire.

But if it means losing your health...

I'd sooner go back to living in one room again.

That you will never do again.

- But we were happy then. - Aren't we now?

Of course, but —

But what?

In the past three years, ever since you left the bank...

you've been under a terrible strain.

Have I?

Henri, you worry me.

That's the least of all things I wish to do.

It's your state of mind.

What's wrong with it?

You seem so desperate about everything.

These are desperate days, my dear.

Millions starving and unemployed.

It's not an easy task for a man of my age to make a living.

I know it.

It's terrifying.

However, when the world looks grim and dark...

then I think of another world —

you and Peter...

all that I love on this earth.

There.

Can I help, Mama?

You may get the evening paper and your father's slippers.

They're here. I got them before Daddy came home.

Do I smell meat cooking?

Yes, Henri.

- You wanted company for dinner. - Of course.

Why don't we eat meat, Daddy?

Because we are vegetarians, my son.

- Are the Bottellos coming? - Yes.

- Good. - Who are the Bottellos, Daddy?

You know the Bottellos.

The gentleman who owns the drug store. He's my very good friend.

Oh, yes.

And the Turners called to ask if you would officiate...

at the church bazaar next Wednesday.

Sorry, my love. I'm leaving for Lyon the first thing in the morning.

Oh, so soon?

Business is business, my dear.

Peter, where did you put the paper?

- You're sitting on it, Daddy. - Hmm?

Oh, so I am.

Give it to me, Henri, and rest your eyes.

Thank you, my dear. Just read the headlines. That's all.

"Depression Worldwide.

Unemployment Spreads Throughout All Nations."

Enough. It's too depressing.

Just think, Henri, how fortunate we are.

You have a job.

Yes, I have a job.

If I lose one, I can always find another.

Peter, don't pull the cat's tail.

You have a cruel streak in you. I don't know where you get it.

I'm only playing with him. He likes it.

He doesn't. You play too rough.

Remember: Violence begets violence.

That must be the Bottellos.

Peter, take Papa's shoes to his room.

Ah, Martha, my dear!

Let me take your things. And Maurice!

Delighted to see you. Upon my word, to be sure.

- Henri. - Go inside, go inside.

Thank you, thank you. You're quite a stranger, Henri.

Yes.

- My dear Martha. - How do you do?

- Maurice. - Mona.

- How is your cold? - I'm all over it now.

- Did you take those pills? - Well, I —

You didn't, you see? But you should.

They're analeptic. Will help to restore your strength.

My dear Maurice, you must know what a crank she is about taking medicine.

Dinner is served, madame.

They won't hurt her. I give them to Martha all the time.

- She's the guinea pig of the family. - Ah, yes.

Tell me, Maurice, how's business?

Oh, as usual. And yours?

Oh, very busy these days. Very busy.

Martha, at my left, please.

Nevertheless, I hope you will be with us a little longer this time.

No, Maurice. Unfortunately, I'm leaving...

by the first train tomorrow morning.

Oh, that's the best one yet!

If you like 'em rough, I can go farther.

That's far enough, brother. Oh, that's a lulu.

- I must tell that to the captain when he comes. - When does he get in?

- He's due at 6:00 on the Lyon Express. - It's almost that now. We'd better blow.

What's your hurry? Let's have another drink first.

Oh, what happened to that maid?

Annette? Pardon me a moment.

Are you deaf? I've been shouting my lungs out!

- I didn't hear you, madame. - You didn't want to hear!

Lamb chops! What happened to the fish left over from lunch?

I threw it out, madame. There wasn't much left.

Enough for your dinner. Throwing food away in times like these!

I'm sorry, madame. I can't eat fish.

Well, there are plenty who can, so pack up and get out!

Lamb chops for dinner! Next it'll be grilled steaks!

Not satisfied with lamb chops. She wants grilled steaks!

- What's the trouble? - Oh, these servants!

- They're a problem. - This one ain't. She's out on her ear.

Now the captain's coming home, and I haven't a servant.

Uh, look, Annabella, we'd better blow.

What's your hurry? Besides, you haven't told my fortune yet.

Well, we'll stay till he comes.

- All right. Now, cut 'em three times. - Yeah.

How long's the captain ashore, Annabella?

Just a week. Then he's off for another six weeks.

Six weeks, huh? I can see where that has its good points.

I haven't got to that stage yet.

Look at that girl's luck.

No wonder she won a lottery.

- Do I win another? - I wouldn't be at all surprised.

Wait a minute.

That's the ace of spades. That ain't so lucky.

Listen, with your luck, if you slipped on a banana peel...

with your neck out of joint, the fall would straighten it.

It's the captain.

- Louis, my pigeon! - Annabella.

- How come you're two days late? - Sorry, my lamb.

Coming up the straits, a sou'wester blew up and landed us on a mud bank.

We had to wait for high tide before we could get off again.

Oh, you look so fresh and salty!

Do I, my darling?

Come. I want you to meet some friends of mine.

Vicki, this is Captain Bonheur. I forgot your married name.

Darmond. Just call me Vicki.

- This is Joe Darmond, her husband. - How do you do?

Well, we'll blow.

I beg your pardon. I mean "beat it."

Oh, uh, pleased to meet you, Captain, uh —

- Bonheur is the name. - "Bonheur"?

Well, then, all I can say is bonsoir.

- Pigeon. - Who are those people?

Oh, just friends. I met them at the races.

Be careful. You're too accessible.

Remember: You can always stoop and pick up nothing.

Oh, never mind them. Tell me, have you been good?

What a question!

You haven't been fooling around with native girls, I hope.

How could you think of such a thing?

When you're away, I think of all sorts of things.

There's the difference. All I think of is you.

No kidding.

Every moment.

In the cabin, on the bridge, even on the poop deck...

you're always in my mind.

Wondering what you're doing, whom you are seeing.

- Oh, pigeon! - And alone at night...

under a canopy of tropical stars...

with the soft strains of a Viennese waltz coming from the salon.

Music on a cargo ship?

Oh, yes. We have a radio.

Oh, yes.

Now — Now you've interrupted my thought.

- You were thinking of me, pigeon. - Ah, yes, you.

I would think of these adorable arms...

these little hands, and this delightful little wisp.

Let me kiss you there.

Oh, I wish you didn't have to go back to sea again.

So do I. I much prefer to stay home and look after you.

- Then why don't you? - You know why. We've been through this before.

I can't stay home and do nothing. It'd be different if I could manage your business affairs.

Huh-uh. I can manage my own business affairs.

- Trouble is, you don't trust me. - I do trust you, but —

You don't. You don't.

That's what hurts. That's what mars our happiness.

You trust everyone but me.

Strangers can come along and sell you anything —

any phony proposition — and you bite.

But darling, what do you know about business?

Emphatically more than you do, my dear.

Last time, you came barging in, telling me all the banks were going broke.

Getting me all horsed up about bringing my money home.

Well, it's a good thing I didn't!

Very well. We'll forget the matter.

- Now, don't be mad, pigeon. - I'm not angry, my dear.

I'm merely trying to save you from squandering your money...

on these ridiculous enterprises: stocks that are worthless.

- They're not all worthless. - All of them.

Well, I still have faith...

in the Pacific Ocean Power Company.

Good heavens! What's that?

I told you. It's a machine that floats on waves.

When it rocks like this, it turns wheels like that, and that makes electricity.

Hmm. And what does it make when the sea is calm?

Don't be a pessimist.

That's what I mean. Wasting your money on sheer nonsense!

Here's inflation. Very soon money will be worthless.

- What have you done about it? Nothing. - What do you want me to do?

Invest wisely. Safely, at least.

Land, houses, or better still, jewelry.

- A friend has some beautiful — - That's funny.

- What's funny? - Just what I did.

- What did you "did"? - I bought jewelry. Diamonds.

- Where did you buy them? - Now, don't get excited.

From Joe, Vicki's husband. The people who just left here.

My dear! That's not the way to buy jewelry!

Don't be silly. He's a fence. He deals in hot stuff.

I got a real bargain. Diamonds that big —

180 carats' worth — for 20,000 francs.

- You couldn't buy glass at that price. - Well, this gal did.

- And not glass either. - How do you know?

- Are you out of your mind? - Let me look at them.

Why, those dirty crooks! If they double-crossed me, I'll —

I'll tell you whether you were double-crossed or not.

Hmm.

Just as I thought. Phony. Fake!

- What? - Glass, you silly ass! Glass!

7:00. I must catch that 8:15.

Why? You just got here an hour ago.

My dear, I'm the captain of a boat. I can't stay away while it's in repairs.

- "Repairs"? - Of course. It's up in dry dock.

And I'm to be left alone without a servant?

- I can't help that. - Why'd you come home in the first place?

To save you from crooks! Swindlers!

People who are trying to rob you!

I'll put them in jail is what I'll do.

Oh, no, you won't. You thought you were buying stolen goods.

That's what you get for being dishonest.

200,000 francs you've spent.

And what have you to show for it? Nothing.

Not a thing of value but this house.

And they'll take this away, with all the legal complications you get into.

- Oh, no, they won't. - Oh, yes, they will.

Oh, no, they won't. I put it in your name.

That's the first sensible thing you've done since I've known you.

A week ago, when they tried to attach my bank account.

- Attach your what? - Don't worry. They didn't get it.

I took my money out, and I have it all safely hidden away.

- Here in the house? - Why, of —

Well, it doesn't matter where it is.

Nobody will ever find it. Not even you.

There you go. You're always suspicious.

No, I'm not.

It's just my little "defensive mechanism," as you call it.

I'm just thinking, my dear.

I hate to leave you alone in this house tonight.

- Then why don't you stay? - I could leave early in the morning.

Why don't you? We could have fun. We could go places and do things.

You're right. Captain or no captain...

I'm not leaving you alone tonight.

Pigeon!

♪♪

Two ounces of chloroform, please.

- How much? - Seventy-five centimes.

Louis, this is Monsieur Challain. This is my husband, Captain Bonheur.

How do you do? I am president of the Salt Water Fuel Company.

- The what? - Here's 5,000 francs on account. I'll send you the rest tomorrow.

- Thank you, madame. - What is this?

This is a personal matter, my dear.

Something that might interest you, monsieur.

It's a device for turning saltwater into gasoline.

- Give me that money! - How dare you, sir!

Don't you do that! Don't you —

Don't you ever dare humiliate me again in public.

I merely tried to stop you from making a fool of yourself.

I'm not so dumb. I won a lottery. That's more than you can do.

Of all the ineffable nonsense — turning seawater into gasoline.

Well, if it's a success, we'll own the ocean, that's all.

Preposterous.

Oh, go to bed. I want to get some sleep.

Very well, my dear.

- Who are you? - I'm the maid, sir.

- What do you want? - I thought maybe I could sleep here tonight.

- But you were discharged. - I know, sir, but I've nowhere to go.

- Who is it? - It's the maid.

- What does she want? - She wants to stay the night.

Please, madame. I promise I'll leave in the morning.

Oh, all right. Let her stay.

Merci, madame.

I can't imagine what happened to that bedroom.

It looks like a cyclone hit it. Was I mad at you last night?

No.

- Coffee? - No, thank you.

I thought you discharged the maid.

- I changed my mind. - Why?

Oh, that's me. I just haven't the heart.

Besides, I could never find anyone else to work as cheap.

I must get back to that boat.

I'm not gonna see you for another six weeks?

I'll try to get back before she sails.

Good-bye, my dear.

Madame Grosnay, Madame Grosnay.

"G."

Ah.

Ah, here we are. "Madame Grosnay.

Passy 3211.

Hello? Passy 3211, please.

Hello? Has Madame Grosnay returned to town yet?

Oh, she has? This is Benedict, the dressmaker.

Mm-hmm. Oh, she's out now?

When will she return?

12:30? Thank you.

No, there's no message.

Madame Grosnay, 151 Avenue Victor Hugo.

Huh. 151. 151.

Madame Grosnay! Captain Bonheur.

Who?

I say, I had the honneur of meeting you in the south of France.

Don't you remember? I'm Monsieur Varnay. You came to look over my house.

Oh. Oh, yes. I remember.

I wanted to send you a book on astrology...

but unfortunately I couldn't get hold of your address.

- Quite so. - Quite so, quite so.

Of course, I realize on that occasion I embarrassed you...

but if you'll only allow me to apologize and explain —

Thank you, but I don't think that incident...

requires any further explanation.

Good day, Monsieur Varnay.

- Good morning, monsieur. - Good morning.

I want to order three dozen roses, a corsage of orchids — say, about a half dozen —

and send them to Madame Grosnay, 151 Avenue Victor Hugo.

Merci, monsieur.

- A card? - Yes — five or six.

Oui, monsieur. As many as you wish.

I want to repeat the order twice a week for the next two weeks.

Oui, monsieur.

How much will that be?

Let me see.

That will be five orders altogether.

2,500 francs, monsieur.

Oh là là.

Ah, well. These things have to be done.

- Keep the change. - Merci, monsieur.

- Cordial, Martha? - Yes, thanks.

- Maurice? - Thank you, Mona.

I hope we'll be seeing more of you, Henri.

You never will. He must be on the go every minute.

Unfortunately, one gets caught up...

in this monoxide world of speed and confusion.

Nevertheless, I look forward to these quiet evenings together...

and your delightful and edifying talks on theurgic matters.

The legerdemain of the apothecary, as it were.

You should have been a chemist, Henri.

Chemistry, my dear fellow...

is the material manifestation of the metaphysical.

Ah. You're a mystic.

Do you remember some time ago discussing a humane method...

of doing away with dumb animals?

- Very distinctly. - A lethal formula for veterinary work?

No pain. No convulsions. Absolutely tasteless.

The creature drinks it and in about an hour...

curls up into a comfortable sleep and dies.

Ah, what a memory you have.

You were experimenting with three elements, as I remember:

exnide, ethna bromide, and something else.

Yes. That was very interesting, pharmaceutically.

The ethna bromide induces asphyxia...

but in order to delay the erodent action of the exnide...

C2HC was added.

- C2HC, huh? - A freezing agent.

The results are interesting.

When swallowed, tissue changes are gradual.

In about an hour, the action of the exnide takes place.

Its effect is like heart disease.

A systolic cramp, and... poof!

- What have you done about it? - Nothing.

The State Medical Department banned it.

- Why? - Too dangerous for public use.

Strangely enough, in the postmortem...

not a trace of the poison can be found...

neither in the stomach nor the blood.

Can you imagine such a weapon in the hands of an archcriminal?

Think of the money he'd make from the insurance companies.

That's quite an idea.

We'll incorporate and go into business.

Insuring people and having them die of heart failure?

We'd make millions.

I'm not sure, but I think the poison...

might show up in a man.

- Why? - Different metabolism.

We could easily find out.

- How? - Simple.

You say it takes an hour for the poison to work.

Then pick a derelict off the street, poison him, then send him to a hotel.

In such cases, where a person is found dead in a public place...

there's always an autopsy.

You'd know the result without taking the slightest risk.

What a diabolical thought!

However, such experiments we had better leave...

to the archcriminal, don't you think?

Hmm. C2HC.

And now for the experiment.

- Quite a shower. - Yes, it is.

Can I escort you anywhere?

Oh, thank you.

Allow me.

- So you're from Belgium? - I came here after the war.

- A refugee, huh? - Mm-hmm.

- Where do you live? - Hotel Lausanne, off Montmartre.

- Hmm. Just a few doors away. - Yes.

Good.

Why don't you take off your coat? Allow me.

- What's that? - A kitten.

Poor little thing. I picked it up in the doorway.

- You like cats, huh? - Not particularly.

But it was all wet and cold.

I don't suppose you have a little milk.

On the contrary, I have.

You see, the prospects are not as gloomy as you think.

- Do I sound that pessimistic? - You do.

- But I don't think you are. - Why?

To be out on a night like this — you're an optimist.

An optimist? I'm anything but that.

Up against it, huh?

Your faculties of observation are remarkable.

Indeed.

Tell me, how long have you been in this predicament?

Mm, quite a long time.

- How long? - Three months.

- I don't believe you. - Why?

An attractive, intelligent girl like you would have done better.

Thanks.

Now tell me the truth.

You're just out of a hospital or a jail. Which is it?

- What do you want to know for? - Because I want to help you.

Philanthropist, huh?

Precisely. And I ask nothing in return.

What is this, the Salvation Army?

Very well. If that's the way you feel, you're at liberty to go on your way.

Well, if you must know, I'm just out of jail.

What were you in for?

What's the difference? Larceny, they called it.

- Larceny? - Petty larceny. Pawning a rented typewriter.

Dear, dear. Couldn't you do better than that?

- What did you get? - Three months.

So this is your first day out of jail?

Yes.

I see.

Poor dear. Ah, well.

Nothing is permanent in this wicked world, not even our troubles.

- Are you hungry? - Frankly, yes.

Then while I attend to the culinary operations...

you can help bring in a few things from the kitchen.

Come.

If you will permit me, I'll adopt that little kitten of yours.

- Please do. - We'll just set the table for one.

- You'll find everything there. - Aren't you having anything?

- No, merci. - Then all we need is a knife, fork, and a napkin.

- Mm-hmm. - Here they are.

Then you will take them in there...

make yourself at home, and I shall be in later.

- Merci. - Merci.

I don't know whether this will appeal to your appetite or not:

scrambled eggs, toast, and a little red wine.

- Wonderful. - Then will you be seated?

Thank you.

Ah, you're tired, so immediately after supper...

I shall take you to your hotel.

You're very kind. I don't understand why you're doing all this for me.

Why not? Is a little kindness such a rare thing?

I was beginning to think it was.

- The toast. Pardon me. - Can I help you?

No, no. Stay where you are. I can manage.

- Voilà. - You're funny.

- Am I? Why? - I don't know.

However, you're hungry. Please go ahead.

- What book is that you're reading? - Schopenhauer.

- Do you like him? - So-so.

Have you read his treatise on suicide?

- Wouldn't interest me. - Not if the end could be simple?

Say, for instance, you went to sleep...

and without any thought of death, there was a sudden stoppage.

Wouldn't you prefer it to this drab existence?

- I wonder. - It's the approach of death that terrifies.

I suppose if the unborn knew of the approach of life...

they'd be just as terrified.

Yet life is wonderful.

What's wonderful about it?

Everything. Spring morning, a summer's night...

- music, art, love — - "Love"?

- There is such a thing. - How do you know?

I was in love once.

You mean you were physically attracted by someone.

It was more than that.

I suppose women are capable of something more.

You don't like women, do you?

On the contrary, I love women, but I don't admire them.

Why?

Women are of the earth, realistic...

- dominated by physical facts. - What nonsense!

Once a woman betrays a man, she despises him.

In spite of his goodness and position...

she will give him up for someone inferior...

if that someone is more, shall we say, attractive.

How little you know about women.

You'd be surprised.

- That isn't love. - What is love?

Giving, sacrificing.

The same thing a mother feels for her child.

- Did you love that way? - Yes.

- Whom? - My husband.

You're married?

I was.

He died while I was in jail.

I see.

Tell me about him.

That's a long story.

He was wounded in the war, a hopeless invalid.

An invalid?

That's why I loved him.

He needed me, depended on me.

He was like a child.

But he was more than a child to me.

He was a religion. My very breath.

I'd have killed for him.

No, love is something very real and deep.

I know that.

- However — - Pardon me.

I believe there's a little cork in that wine.

Let me get you another glass.

Penny for your thoughts.

Huh? Oh, no.

- More wine? - Thank you. No more.

Come. It's very late, and you're tired.

Here.

This will tide you over for a day or so.

- Good luck. - Thank you.

Oh, this is too much!

Silly, carrying on this way.

I was beginning to lose faith in everything.

Then this happens, and you want to believe all over again.

Don't believe too much.

This is a ruthless world, and one must be ruthless to cope with it.

That isn't true.

It's a blundering world, and a very sad one...

yet a little kindness can make it beautiful.

You'd better go before your philosophy corrupts me.

You can go out this way.

Good night, and thank you.

Good morning, mademoiselle. Is there a message for me?

- Not yet, monsieur. - Not yet, huh? How many orders has Madame received so far?

Two, monsieur: one every three days.

- Good. So there's still a week to go. - Oui, monsieur.

Ah, well. We must keep up the good work and hope for the best.

- Oui, monsieur. - Good morning, mademoiselle.

Good morning, monsieur.

- Monsieur Verdoux? - Oui, monsieur.

I am Detective Morrow from police headquarters.

I'd like to talk to you.

Won't you come in?

This way, please.

Some nice pieces you have here. Quite a collector, eh?

In a modest way.

This is rather amusing: an old galleon figurehead.

- What's that? - From the bow of a boat.

Very nice. Pardon me.

- Hmm. What's that? - That? I don't know where that came from.

- Be seated, monsieur. - Merci.

- A drink, monsieur? - No, no, merci.

Then you'll pardon me?

- Well. - I want to ask you a few questions.

- Oui, monsieur. - How long have you been in the furniture business?

Approximately three years, monsieur.

Do you know a Madame Thelma Varnay?

I beg your pardon?

Thelma Varnay.

I do not, monsieur.

Or Lydia Floray?

Floray... Floray —

Oui, monsieur. Lydia Floray, from the city of Corbell.

I'm afraid I don't, monsieur.

- You're married, aren't you? - Yes.

- You have a wife and child. - Quite so.

What's your relationship with Annabella Bonheur?

"Bonheur"? I don't understand, monsieur.

It's no use, Captain. The game's up.

I've been shadowing you for the past two weeks.

You've been a pretty busy fellow these days...

traveling around the country.

What you need is a pair of skates.

Does my wife know about this?

No, monsieur. No one knows anything.

Not even police headquarters.

I wanted to make sure I was on the right track first.

What are your charges?

Bigamy.

And 14 counts of murder.

Congratulations, monsieur...

but with the murder charges, I don't think you'll succeed.

- We'll see. - There's such a thing as corpus delicti.

Don't worry. We'll find the bodies.

I don't think you will, monsieur.

However, we'll hold you for bigamy until we do. Let's go.

Listen...

you have no evidence of murder, and you know it.

But if you allow me to see my wife before you arrest me...

I'll sign a full confession.

That's a bargain.

It'll be an hour and 20 minutes before we get there.

I've never felt so tired.

- Pardon me if I take 40 winks. - As many as you like, monsieur.

I'm sorry. I must take every precaution.

- Do you mind? - Of course not.

I never felt so sleepy.

Must have been that wine.

Hello.

- How do you do? - Don't you remember me?

Ah, yes, yes. How's the world treating you?

I could complain, but I won't.

What I need is a good manager.

Do you know anybody that wants a job?

No, I don't.

However, I can't keep on doing this sort of business all the time.

Oh, no. I don't want any money.

- What do you want? - Nothing.

- I just wanted to say hello, that's all. - Hmm.

You don't believe me, do you?

However, take this.

- No, please. I don't want your money. - Take it. Don't be a fool.

When am I going to see you again?

You go on about your business.

Ah. That's my call.

Hello? Annabella?

This is your pigeon. I'm flying home.

I've been at the shipping office all day.

No, the boat's still up on the ways.

The damage was more serious than we thought.

They're still scraping her sides.

You would say something like that.

We won't be ready for several days. That's why I'm coming home.

Mm-hmm. Immediately.

Good-bye, dear.

- Good afternoon, Captain. - Good afternoon.

Will you take this up to my room? Thank you.

- Pigeon! - Annabella.

- What's that? - Pretty?

It's for the woman next door. She's going to have a baby.

I'm so happy you're home. I've been worried about the deed to this house.

- I want to put it back in my own name. - Why, of course.

- Good. We can go to the lawyer's right away. - Today?

- I want to have it done and over with. - Oh, not now.

I've only just arrived. Besides...

I want this day to be ours, just you and I...

alone in the waning twilight.

- If you talk like that, I'll put it off till Monday. - Good. We'll have dinner tête-à-tête.

We'll prepare it ourselves and let the maid go. Hmm?

If I knew it was gonna be this kind of an evening —

- Annette? - Oui, madame?

- You may have the rest of the afternoon off. - Oh, merci, madame.

What would you like to drink for dinner, dear?

- Bordeaux would be nice. - Bordeaux?

Ah.

- Annette, what are you up to? - Nothing, madame.

- Did you break something? - No, madame.

I was just closing the window.

Well, do it more carefully next time!

- I'm looking for a corkscrew. - There's none here, pigeon.

It must be in the living room somewhere.

Dinner will be ready in a half hour. It's all in the oven.

Good. After that, you deserve a little drink.

I certainly do.

- What are you drinking? - Me? Sarsaparilla.

- Sarsaparilla? - Doctor's orders, my dear.

Well, I can see what kind of evening this is gonna be.

We'll wind up playing dominoes.

Mmm. It's good wine.

Nice and dry. I like it dry. It makes me so thirsty.

Mm-hmm.

What's the idea? I've almost finished this bottle myself...

and you ain't touched yours yet.

You've done nothing but sit and stare all evening.

I thought we were gonna enjoy the waning twilight together.

Be careful, my dear. Be careful of the furniture.

Oh, honey, you're always complaining.

Here, drink your drink.

I don't see how you can drink that vile stuff.

Very good. Just like wine.

And very dry too.

That's sarsaparilla. You're drinking my wine.

Pigeon!

Pigeon!

Pigeon, let me in!

No. No!

Pigeon, let me in! What's the matter?

Pigeon! Pigeon, let me in!

- Pigeon, darling! - Milk!

Pigeon, qu'est-ce que c'est?

Woman, leave me alone!

Let me help you, please, darling.

Annette, come down quickly! Hurry!

- Pigeon, what happened? Tell me, darling. Please.

I'm poisoned. I'm dying. Telephone my wife.

I'm here, pigeon.

- Oh, dear. Here, take some wine. - Take it away!

You poor darling. Let me open your tie.

- Leave me alone, leave me alone. - What's happened to that maid?

Yes, madame?

For the love of Julius Caesar, what happened to you?

I don't know, madame.

I was up in my room bleaching my hair, and it fell out.

- What's that? - Well, get a doctor! Get two doctors!

- Take it away! Take it away! - Calm, my love.

There's nothing to worry about, madame.

If it's poison, he's certainly rid of it by this time...

after using the stomach pump.

Just keep on taking the medicine for two or three days.

Oh, uh, how is the maid?

She feels all right, but she doesn't look so good.

Strange you didn't have any bad effects.

Oh, nothing affects me. I'm lucky, Doctor.

However, the captain needs a change.

A few days in the country will do you both good.

- Thank you, Doctor. - Good-bye.

Did you hear what he said, pigeon?

We should go away somewhere in the country, just you and I alone.

Wouldn't that be fun?

Wonderful.

Oh, pigeon, not a soul anywhere.

Perfect.

- Too bad we didn't think of this before. - Yes.

Oh, it's lovely.

- What's that? - That?

That's an anchor, in case we go fishing.

Oh, we should catch scads of them here!

Oh, I see one! It's a monster!

Oh, no. It's me.

Isn't that silly? My own reflection.

Warm. Oh, I wish I could swim. I'd love to go in.

- Would you? - I'm just in the mood.

Well, we'll see what we can do.

Will you teach me to swim?

I'll do my best.

There's a fish! A real one! Give me the rod, quick!

- Don't get excited, my dear. - Quick!

It's gone. If you'd given me the rod, I would have caught him.

- The hook must be baited first. - Well, bait it!

- All right, but don't get — - Shh! Shh!

- Give me — Quick. - Just — Just —

- It's a big one! Give me — - Just a minute.

The rod! Quick!

- Come on! Give me the rod! - You must wait till I bait the hook.

By the time you bait the hook, the fish'll be gone!

Where's your common sense?

What's that doing out there? You're not baiting him with that, are you?

You don't expect 'em to eat this, do you?

Now what are you doing?

- I'm putting a worm on the hook. - A worm?

- Of course. - Disgusting!

You don't expect me to eat fish that's been eating worms, do you?

Very well, my dear. We'll fish without them.

Good.

- You're not angry, pigeon? - Me? No.

Don't be mad because you're wrong once in a while.

You can't be right all the time.

That's something.

I can see scads of them. They're smelling the hook.

You know —

- Something wrong? - Hmm?

They're wonderful, pigeon. There's millions of 'em down there. Just big ones!

You know — Be careful! You'll go overboard!

- Are you seasick? - No.

Shame on you, a man who's lived at sea all his life!

Oh, Captain, really. Shh!

I've got one! I've got one!

I've got — This is a whopper!

Hey, I've got — Captain, I've got one!

Don't lie there asleep! Give me a hand!

What on earth is the matter with you?

Now it's gone!

If you'd been on the job, I would have caught him!

Hey, what's the matter with you? Are you drunk?

A solo drinker, huh?

Hmph. Carrying a bottle!

They're still smelling the hook.

Oh, they're big ones.

Just look at those fish!

There's a wise one.

Nope, he won't —

What are you gonna do with that?

Lasso him.

Don't be silly. You can't lasso a fish. Any fool knows that.

Oh, yes, you can.

All you have to do is to place it over its head like that.

Then you pull it tight like this.

What's that?

A yodeler.

Oh, that ruins everything.

Certainly does.

Too bad we couldn't find a place all to ourselves.

Certainly is.

After all the plans we made.

Yes.

He's looking at us through field glasses.

We'd better take this off. He'll think you're murdering me.

Now there's a whole gang.

- They're gonna have a picnic! - I give up. I'm going back to my boat.

- But we've only just arrived! - I can't help that.

- Oh, pigeon, you can't — - What are you doing?

I got one! I got a beaut!

- Don't be a fool. Let it go. - I can't!

- It doesn't matter. - Don't push me.

Who's pushing you? Don't be an idiot!

- Help! - Please sit down! - I can't sit down!

- Stand still! - I'm trying to!

♪♪ Pigeon!

Pigeon! Help!

Help! Help! Aah!

Oh! Oh, you idiot!

Haven't you any more sense than to stand up in a boat?

I don't know what's come over you lately, but you're acting very strange.

Where's my hat?

- Madame Marie Grosnay? - Oh, dear, dear, dear.

Thanks.

Darling, I thought you were going to the south of France for the season.

I couldn't find anything that suited me.

- More flowers, madame. - Oh.

Put them over there.

Oh, Marie!

Mm! How wonderful! Who sent them?

That awful man who keeps pursuing me.

How thrilling.

I'm dying to know what he's written.

Always the same thing.

Just two words: "Please, please."

I've never known such aggressiveness.

That doesn't sound very aggressive.

Whatever he wants, at least he's asking for it.

- Why don't you call him? - That old roué?

Well, as long as he's not too old.

But I don't know the man.

And besides, I don't have his telephone number.

Send a letter care of the florist. That'll reach him.

- Good morning, monsieur. - Good morning.

- A letter for you. - Merci.

- Did you deliver the flowers? - Oui, monsieur. The last went yesterday.

Good. Then repeat the order for another two weeks.

- Oui, monsieur. - Oh, wait.

You'd better cancel the order. May I use your telephone?

- Oui, monsieur. - Thank you.

Hello? Give me Passy 3211, please.

- Hello? - This is Monsieur Varnay.

I should be very angry with you,

but I have no more resistance.

Good. When can I see you?

Why are you so persistent?

- Very simple: because I love you, Marie. - You hardly know me.

I've always known you. From the moment we met...

I knew there was a deep, wordless understanding between us.

It was in your eyes, Marie.

They are beautiful...

like the loneliness of distant stars.

I often wonder: Who are you in the dark?

I don't quite understand.

I can't express it in words. Only a symphony could say it.

Music of the spheres.

My dear, I'm not as ethereal as all that.

You're everything: saint, sinner, snake, and gazelle, all in one.

I can't forget you. Every look, tone, gesture...

is engraved in my mind.

I must see you, Marie. Immediately. Now.

Good. I'll be right over.

Mm-hmm.

How much is that, please?

One franc, monsieur.

Keep the change.

Marie! My own beloved!

I beg your pardon! Whom did you wish to see?

- Madame Grosnay. - This way, please.

This way.

Ah!

I am Madame Lasalle. Marie will be down in a moment.

Ah.

Of course.

How do you do?

Yvonne, this is Monsieur Varnay.

Yes. We just met.

Well, I'll see you at my house for dinner at 7:30.

- Yes, at 7:30. - Don't bother, darling.

- Good-bye. - Good-bye.

Good-bye.

- Well, you wicked man? - "Wicked"?

Yes.

Very wicked.

Sit over there.

Thank you.

- Tea? - Thank you.

- Milk and sugar? - No, thank you.

Now that Yvonne is gone, I'm a little afraid of you.

Afraid? Why?

- Well, you know what happened the last time we were alone. - I'm sorry.

I — I allowed my emotions to get the better of me.

I promise you it will never occur again.

Oh, don't say that.

I suppose that's one of the ironies of life:

doing the wrong thing at the right moment.

Or, shall we say, the right thing at the wrong moment.

Marie!

- Oh, dear! - There. I never spilled a drop.

- Marie! - Oh! No, go away.

- My dear. My love. - No, please!

Oh, Marie!

What a wonderful day for the wedding.

Whoever thought this would happen to Marie?

- And all so sudden too. - Yes, yes.

John? We must give them something to drink.

The minister phoned. He'll a half hour late.

- He has to attend a burial first. - You'd think he'd marry them first and bury them after.

Marie's having trouble with her trousseau. She's nowhere near ready.

- Where's the bridegroom? - He hasn't arrived yet.

I understand he hates this sort of thing.

Yes, they both wanted a quiet affair, but you know how these things grow.

Yes.

- What was that? - I don't know.

I've never seen her before. Monsieur Bismo brought her along.

I must tell that one to the captain.

Have you heard the one about the old couple celebrating their 60th wedding anniversary?

- Good afternoon. - Ah. Meet my old friend, Monsieur Carno.

And what are you doing here?

Weddings, funerals — I attend them all.

- As I was saying, this old — - Are you one of the bridesmaids?

- No, I'm just a stranger here. - Yes?

Yes. Madame Bonheur is a friend.

She happened to be in Paris, so I brought her along.

Henri, dear, how are you?

- A little shaky. - I know you wanted a quiet wedding...

but I had to do this for Marie.

I'm sorry to put you through such an ordeal, and now you must face another...

and meet some of my friends.

This is the bridegroom, Monsieur Varnay...

and this is Madame Cornet...

Monsieur Simon, Monsieur Delage...

Madame Bremier, Madame Voselli...

Monsieur Contrepaire...

Monsieur Potis...

Madame Voulon...

and, of course, my husband.

- Monsieur. - There.

I'll introduce the rest of the guests after the ceremony.

- Aren't I nice? - You're very kind.

No, no, I don't mean that in a derogatory sense.

- Oh! - I beg your pardon.

- Granted. - How about a little drink?

- I'd love one. - Oh, Claire —

Well, Monsieur Varnay, how do you feel?

Oh, very abstract. Very abstract.

Pull yourself together, old man. The worst is yet to come.

That's true. What am I saying?

This seems to be my day of faux pas.

Let's hope not, monsieur.

- I didn't mean that either. - Monsieur.

I beg your pardon.

It's a peculiar thing: At funerals, one's inclined to laugh...

and at weddings, weep.

Yes.

Well, evidently somebody disagrees with me.

- Who on earth could she be, I wonder. - You should know.

Oh, yes.

A Madame Bonheur. I think she's from Lyon.

Oh, that's good luck.

That means you're going to be pleasantly surprised.

Pardon me.

- What's wrong? - I think it's the cocktails.

I'll have a beer.

Thank you.

Where's Bismo? Excuse me.

Monsieur Varnay, is there anything wrong?

No, no. I was just admiring your flowers.

Oh. Well, over on this side...

we have our lovely bluebells.

- Ah, the campanula. - Yes.

And over here are the primroses.

Of course. The genus Oenothera.

What's wrong? Are you ill?

Cramps. They attack me this way ever since I left India.

- Oh! Let me get you something. - No, no. It'll pass soon.

- The minister is here, madame. - Tell him to wait.

- Can't I do something? - No, no, please.

- Well, Bismo. - Jean, allow me to present Madame Bonheur.

- It's a pleasure. - I want you to take very good care of her.

You just leave that to me.

Jean, I — Oh, how do you do?

The minister's just arrived...

and Henri's in the summer house taken with cramps.

- Do look after him. - Well, let's see what we can do for Monsieur Varnay.

Hmm, he doesn't seem to be here. He must have recovered.

Possibly you'll find him at the punchbowl, don't you think?

Come on. We'll go see.

- What are you looking for? - Huh?

- Have you lost something? - I, uh, dropped my sandwich.

What kind was it?

Oh, just an ordinary sandwich:

a slice of bread between two pieces of meat.

- White or rye? - Uh, yes.

You stay right here, and I'll get you another one.

Uh, thank you.

He doesn't seem to be here.

Oh, there he is. Excuse me. Stay right here.

What's the matter, old man?

Cramps. The worst attack in years. I can't straighten up.

- I'll take you into the house. - No, I prefer to stay here.

Friends, the great moment has arrived.

Will everyone please come into the house?

You can't go through a ceremony in this condition. I'll take you inside.

No, please. I'd like to stay in the garden.

The air will do me good.

Ah, there you are. I didn't quite understand.

Did you want white or rye?

Rye.

You certainly have a beautiful place here.

Wonderful, wonderful!

- Thank you. - Don't pull me. I'm coming.

I'll have them delay the ceremony.

If you lie down for ten minutes, maybe the pain'll go away.

A very good idea. You go tell them.

- I'll get you into the house first. - I'm feeling much better now.

No, I'm not going to take any chances. Come along.

Listen, I wish you'd let me stay out here in the fresh air.

No, ten minutes' rest will do you good.

The pain is muscular. It attacks the serratus magnus.

Of course, that interferes with —

- What was that? - Nothing at all. Go ahead.

Varnay?

- Henri! - Beloved. See you later.

Varnay!

Monsieur Varnay!

Varnay!

Yes, this Monsieur Varnay seems to be our man, all right.

But he must have several aliases.

I can't believe it.

It's too bad he didn't jilt Thelma. You're to be congratulated, Madame Grosnay.

I knew it was the same man the moment we read it in the newspapers.

We have very little to go on. Not even a photograph.

- But I'd know him if I ever saw him. - So would I.

What was the last address he gave you?

- The Hotel Splendide. - We covered that, but he moved.

Yes, I know. He seems to have moved from everywhere.

Did he ever tell you what business he was in?

Yes, he said he was an explorer...

working for the International Geographical Society.

It would be a good idea to call those people up.

What's the use? He's on his way to the North Pole by now.

There's no such organization as the International Geographical Society.

However, we must keep a sharp lookout for him.

You understand this is to be strictly confidential.

Not a word to the press...

as it would seriously jeopardize our investigation.

Hello, hello. Yes?

Yes, yes. What?

- I said we have to foreclose. - You can't do that. My wife and child.

We need the money. We can't wait.

Listen, give me ten minutes.

Just ten minutes.

Good. I'll call you back.

Reaumur 6572.

Hello, Balong and Company.

Hello? This is Henri Verdoux. Sell everything I have at once.

Are you mad? You were wiped out hours ago!

Huh?

Come here.

Yes, you.

- Hello, Mr. Philanthropist. - "Philanthropist"?

Don't you remember me?

You took me to your apartment one rainy night.

- Really? - Oh, yes.

And after feeding me and giving me money...

you sent me on my way like a good little girl.

I must have been a fool.

- Hey! - Oh, shut up! Where are you going?

- Nowhere. - Get in.

Thank you.

To the Café Royale.

And now I shall ask you to feed me again.

I'm afraid that will be difficult.

Then I'll have the pleasure of feeding you.

- Thank you. - I've always wanted to meet you again.

I even went to your furniture store, but you'd moved.

I haven't lived there in ages.

I still think you don't remember me.

But why should you?

There's every apparent reason why I should.

Don't you remember? The night we met, I was just out of jail.

Shh! The chauffeur.

Of course!

- Your invalid husband. - Ah, you remember that.

It's something I shall never forget.

But you and all this — what happened?

The old story — from rags to riches.

After I saw you, my luck changed. I met a munition manufacturer.

Ah! That's the business I should have been in.

Yes. It'll be paying big dividends soon.

♪♪

It's nice seeing you again.

You'll never realize what your kindness meant to me.

Kindness is a convenient thing at times, my dear.

Oh, but tell me about yourself.

I much prefer to talk about something pleasant.

- You, for instance, and this — - And what?

This friend of yours — what sort of a chap is he?

In many ways, very kind and generous...

but in business, quite ruthless.

Business is a ruthless business, my dear. Do you love him?

I thought you didn't believe in such things.

Everyone needs love.

Something's happened.

You seem to have lost your zest for bitterness.

Perhaps I have no more use for it since I've given up the fight.

There's always something to fight for.

- For me there is nothing. - Nothing?

You see, soon after the crash, I lost my wife and child.

Oh, I'm sorry. I never realized.

However, they're much happier where they are...

than living in this world of fear and uncertainty.

You have changed. I can see that.

Since the loss of my family...

I seem to have awakened from a dream.

What do you mean?

I was a bank clerk once...

my existence a monotonous rhythm.

Day in and day out, counting other people's money.

Then something happened. The rhythm was broken.

I lost my position.

What followed was a numbed confusion...

a nightmare in which I lived in a half dream world...

a horrible world.

Now I have awakened.

Sometimes I wonder if that world ever existed.

You've been through a terrible ordeal...

but you mustn't allow it to take hold of you.

It hasn't.

Despair is a narcotic.

It lulls the mind into indifference.

But that's giving up life.

We must all give it up sooner or later.

- Yes, but not before our time. - Why?

Must you know the reason for everything?

It might help a little if we did.

Life is beyond reason.

That's why you must go on...

if it's only to fulfill your destiny.

My destiny.

♪♪

Check your hat?

Why anyone wants to go up in the Eiffel Tower at night, I can't understand.

- You can't see a thing. - That was Phoebe's idea.

- She has her way about everything. - How many, please?

- There'll be five. - This way, please.

I'd like to eat now. I'm hungry.

- We'd better wait for the rest of the family. - They'll be hours yet.

At least we can have a drink. What do you want?

- Vermouth. - Two vermouths.

- Oui, monsieur. - Let's dance.

♪♪

- What's the matter? - Thelma's husband.

- Where? - Behind you.

You're right. It is.

- You're stepping all over my feet! - I can't help it. Let's sit down.

Oh, poor Thelma! It's him!

Listen, pull yourself together. I'm gonna phone the police.

- Don't leave me! He'll murder me! - Don't be a fool. Keep your eye on him.

Don't let him out of your sight. If he leaves while I'm phoning, follow him. Understand?

You look tired. What you need is someone to look after you.

I must take you in hand.

You're very kind.

Merci, madame.

Thank you.

Cab, sir?

Car number ten.

They're leaving.

Take down the number of the car.

I haven't got a pencil. Go get a pencil.

Pardon me.

- Could you lend me a pencil? - In the office.

- Where's that? - Around the corner.

Thank you.

Open up!

Open this door! Let me out!

Help! Help!

- Now I shall say good night. - Oh. What are you going to do?

I am going to fulfill my destiny.

Here's my card.

Be sure to let me hear from you. Soon.

- Merci. - Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

All right, sir.

Listen, boys, you know your positions.

One man at each corner and two at the back. The rest of you come with me.

- Victor, you remain here. - Yes, sir.

Here, here. Break it up.

Around this way.

- This seems to be it. - You take care of it.

Let these men through now.

Go back to your tables.

There he is! Get him!

That's not him! That's my brother!

Go back to your tables. We'll handle this whole thing.

What have you done? That's my witness!

Get him a glass of water.

My poor brother!

You!

Make way, please. Let me through.

- Let us through, please. - What is it?

- I've just seen him! - Where?

There!

Don't let anyone leave. Jacques, Henri, guard the entrance.

Yes, sir.

Thank you.

There he is! That's him!

Henri Verdoux?

At your service.

Never, never in the history of jurisprudence...

have such terrifying deeds been brought to light.

Gentlemen of the jury, you have before you a cruel and cynical monster.

Look at him.

Observe him, gentlemen. This man, who has brains...

if he had decent instincts, could have made an honest living.

And yet he preferred to rob and murder unsuspecting women.

In fact, he made a business of it.

I do not ask for vengeance but for the protection of society.

For this mass killer I demand the extreme penalty:

that he be put to death on the guillotine.

The state rests its case.

Monsieur Verdoux, you have been found guilty.

Have you anything to say before sentence is passed upon you?

Oui, monsieur. I have.

However remiss the prosecutor has been in complimenting me...

he at least admits that I have brains.

Thank you, monsieur. I have.

And for 35 years, I used them honestly.

After that...

nobody wanted them...

so I was forced to go into business for myself.

As for being a mass killer, does not the world encourage it?

Is it not building weapons of destruction...

for the sole purpose of mass killing?

Has it not blown unsuspecting women...

and little children to pieces...

and done it very scientifically?

As a mass killer...

I'm an amateur by comparison.

However, I do not wish to lose my temper...

because very shortly I shall lose my head.

Nevertheless...

upon leaving this spark of earthly existence...

I have this to say:

I shall see you all...

very soon.

Very soon.

- No pictures. - Well, Max, how is he?

He's nuts! Talks as though he's a saint.

Twists everything with a lot of half-truths.

Says you can't have good without evil.

Something about evil being the shadows cast from the sun.

- I think he's kidding all of us. - All right, you can go in.

- So long, Max. See you later. - Hope you get a better break than I did.

No pictures!

Well, well, well.

Verdoux.

You'll have to admit: Crime doesn't pay, does it?

No, sir. Not in a small way.

What do you mean?

To be successful in anything, one must be well-organized.

You're not leaving the world with that cynical remark?

To be idealistic at this moment...

would be incongruous, don't you think?

What's all this talk about good and evil?

Arbitrary forces, my good fellow.

Too much of either will destroy us all.

We can never have too much good in the world.

Trouble is, we've never had enough. We don't know.

Listen, Verdoux, I've been your friend all through the trial.

Now give me a break. A story with a moral to it.

You, the tragic example of a life of crime.

I don't see how anyone can be an example...

in these criminal times.

Well, you certainly are — robbing and murdering people.

That's business.

Well, other people don't do business that way.

That's the history of many a big business.

Wars, conflict —

it's all business.

One murder makes a villain...

millions a hero.

Numbers sanctify, my good fellow.

Father Ferro to see you.

By all means, show him in.

You'll pardon me, but my time is limited.

Verdoux, is there anything else you'd like to say before I leave?

Yes. Good-bye.

All right, Father.

Well, Father...

and what can I do for you?

Nothing, my son. I want to help you, if I can.

I've come to ask you to make your peace with God.

I am at peace with God.

My conflict is with man.

Have you no remorse for your sin?

Who knows what sin is...

born as it was from heaven, from God's fallen angel?

Who knows the ultimate destiny it serves?

After all, what would you be doing without sin?

Exactly what I'm doing now, my son:

trying in my humble way to help a lost soul in distress.

They're coming. Let me pray for you.

As you wish.

But I don't think these gentlemen want to be kept waiting.

May the Lord have mercy on your soul.

Why not?

After all, it belongs to him.

Henri Verdoux...

the Criminal Court of Justice of the French Republic...

sentenced you to die by the guillotine.

It is now the order of the court that the sentence be carried out this day.

Merci.

- Cigarette? - No, thank you.

- Here. - What's that?

Rum.

No, thank you.

Uh, just a moment.

I've never tasted rum.