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I suppose you come to sympathize with me,
for indeed misfortune has taken possession of my house.
I was just thinking that a number of my old acquaintances
have been very unfortunate this year.
Morcerf, dishonored and dead.
Mercedes, retired to the country.
Albert, about to enter the army.
At least they will not be poor.
But they will. It seems they had scruples.
Something to do with tainted money, guiltily acquired.
They've given their entire inheritance to the hospitals.
But surely that was an act of great nobility.
Utter folly, I should have thought.
Utter folly.
Then there's myself, covered with ridicule
through the villainy of Cavalcanti... Benedetto.
- And now... - A new calamity?
- My daughter Eugénie has left us. - Good heavens!
The truth!
You have neither wife nor children. How happy you must be.
Do you think so?
Poor girl.
I doubt if her pride will ever allow her to return to France.
At least she will have the sympathy of all her friends.
Indeed. I shall be a laughingstock.
I can hardly bear to think about it.
You're quite wrong of course.
And who would dare to ridicule the man of your affluence?
You, the king of finance.
- You really think so? - I'm positive.
So long as your fabulous wealth lasts.
Just so long, Baron Danglars, you are quite safe from public contempt.
You're in the right, Count.
As long as I'm able to put my signature to a piece of paper like this,
you can call me a happy man.
When you called, I was on the point of signing five little bonds.
I've already signed two. Will you allow me to sign the others?
Pray due, sir. Are they Spanish bonds?
No, no.
They're bonds on the Bank of France, payable to the bearer.
Have you many pieces of paper of this size, Count?
Each worth a million?
To the governor of the bank, please pay to my order from the puns
deposited by me the sum of one million livres, Baron Danglars.
One, two, three, four, five million.
That's the way I conduct business.
No, this is really wonderful, particularly if,
as you say, they are payable at sight.
They are indeed.
And to have five million in five little pieces of paper,
it really has to be seen to be believed.
You shall be convinced.
Take my clerk to the bank and you shall see him leave
with an order on the Treasury for the same sum.
No, certainly not. The thing is so curious
that I'm determined to make the experiment myself.
What do you mean?
That money, I'm afraid, is already...
But, my dear Baron Danglars, I'm credited with you for six million.
I've only drawn one.
You still owe me five million.
Do you know you're a mind reader?
I call on you this morning expressly to collect them.
Excuse me, but not that money.
Forgive me, Count. What I mean... I'm indeed no mind-reader.
I owe that money to the new railroad company.
It's a deposit I promised to pay this morning.
You disappoint me, Mr. le Baron.
However, since my need is just as great as that of your railroad company,
I will take this and you will have the added pleasure
of signing new bonds for five million on the same day.
Impossible.
Then the railroad company shall wait until tomorrow.
They can certainly afford it. Here's my receipt.
You see, I came prepared.
"Received du Baron Danglars a sum of 5 million livres"
"which will be repaid whenever he pleases"
"by the house of Thomson & French in Rue..."
After all, why not? A favor to you my dear count.
Your receipt is, after all, money.
In any capital in the world.
- Goodbye, my dear Baron. - Good day.
Good day, monsieur.
What the hell do you want?
Mr. Beauchamp is here, Mr. Le Baron,
and wishes to speak to you.
Beauchamp? Very well, show him in.
This way, monsieur.
- Mr. Beauchamp. - Good morning, Baron Danglars.
I passed our friend Monte Cristo on the stairs.
Yes, he wanted some money, a little matter of five million.
Five million?
Yes, he went away with the money in his pocket.
You amaze me, Baron.
I'm a financier mr. Beauchamp.
But to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?
I wanted to interview you.
To obtain your reaction to the news from Spain.
I'm surprised you did not call before.
After all it is more than 48 hours since...
How shall I put it?
... my judgment and intuition brought me the rewards of a great financial coup.
Do you consider yourself as a financial genius, Baron?
Words of yours Mr. Beauchamp. I would express the matter more modestly,
however it is perhaps best to judge by results.
Baron Danglars, if you had made a mistake
and Don Carlos had not returned to Spain what then?
Would this have meant a crisis in your affairs?
Mr. Beauchamp, a successful banker never gambles but there are times,
exceptional times, when he will take a certain risk.
In this case the degree of risk was infinitesimal.
- But it existed. - It did.
The events have proved I was fully justified in the action I took.
I see.
But why this line of inquiry? If you came here wanting...
I came here, Mr. le Baron, assuming that a man of your eminence
would keep himself at least as well informed as a mere journalist.
- What are you saying? - That you are not abreast of events.
I, not abreast of events?
For two days, fog in the Loire Valley has obstructed the telegraph.
The fog has now lifted, the service's once more in operation.
I have had the latest reports. Don Carlos did not return to Spain.
Barcelona did not rise in his favor.
He is still in our custody at Bourges.
- It's a lie. - And you are a ruined man.
It's a lie.
No, my dear Baron, it's the perfect truth.
The news? His escape?
That was a telegraphic error.
But it's true.
I heard it from Mme. de Villefort herself.
Her father has dismissed her to a convent.
Where is she now? At home. Under guard.
This is one of the worst things I've ever heard.
God forgive me it is I who've done this to Valentine.
No, do not speak this monsieur.
How should I otherwise? It's true.
When a woman loves, no sacrifice is too great for her.
- And there will be no sacrifice. - What do you mean?
I mean that you will marry your Valentine and that you will live happily ever after.
No jests at such a time.
Maximilian, listen to me. You know that within the hour
de Villefort is presenting the prosecution's case against Benedetto?
Yes.
While he is thus engaged,
you will take Ali and go to the house of the Procureur du Roi
and abduct his daughter.
But this is madness.
Ali, who is worth ten men in such a situation, will cover your retreat.
One of my carriages will be waiting to take you to Marseille,
where you will meet a man called Penelon, who will be waiting your arrival.
Penelon?
An old sailor who was once in the service of your father.
Yes, I know that, but... How do you?
Ask no questions.
He will convey you in my yacht to the Isle of Monte Cristo
when I will join you within a matter of days.
Trust me.
But what you propose is sheer insanity.
We wouldn't travel more than 20 leagues before we were seized.
Nothing of the kind will happen, my friend.
Have you ever known me to fail in what I promised to perform?
Never.
Then if you love your Valentine, do what I'm telling you to do now.
- What is there to be afraid? - Her father's vengeance.
You're both safe from him already.
Does that, Mr. le Procureur du Roi,
conclude your indictment against the accused?
- It does, Mr. le Président. - We thank you, monsieur.
Accused.
State your name and surname.
Excuse me, Mr. le Président.
I claim to be in an exceptional situation
and would beg that the order of the formal question
which you're bound to address to me at this stage be reversed.
Very well, the court is prepared to indulge you in this, but only in this.
- What is your age? - I'm 21.
Or rather, I shall be in a few days.
I was born on the 27th of September, 1817.
And where were you born?
At Auteuil, near Paris.
And your profession?
I've followed various callings. Lately, I've become an assassin.
I see.
Having confessed your guilt, you are hoping
by the final revelation of your name to create an unparalleled situation.
How well you read my mind, Mr. le President.
That's precisely my intention.
Well, what is your name?
I cannot tell you, since I do not know it.
I know my father's name and can give you that.
What is your father's name?
My father is the Procureur du Roi.
The Procureur du Roi?
Silence!
Silence.
Are you playing with justice, accused?
Gentlemen, God forbid I should insult the court.
What I've said, I'm ready to prove.
But in your examination, you called yourself Benedetto, an orphan,
and claimed Corsica as your country.
I repeat, I'm the son of the Procureur du Roi, Mr. de Villefort.
I was born on the date I'd given you, at 28, Rue La Fontaine.
As soon as the midwife delivered me, my father took me in his arms,
telling my mother I was dead,
wrapped me in a napkin marked with an H and an N,
and took me into the garden, where he buried me alive.
Are you asking us to believe that you were a newly born infant,
you survived this ordeal?
Of course, I wouldn't be here otherwise.
The explanation is somewhat too involved.
I've no wish to take up the court's time unnecessarily.
Perhaps your ingenuity has failed you.
By no means, Mr. le Président.
The truth never taxes one's powers of invention.
We shall see!
You, a self-confessed murderer, claim an illustrious man as your father!
Your mother, no doubt, was equally illustrious.
My mother, monsieur, thought me dead. No guilt attaches to her.
I have not wished to know her name nor do I know it.
To this tissue of horrors you bring, I must admit, a sort of conviction,
but without strong proof to sustain it, it's of little value as evidence.
- Proof? You demand proof? - Certainly.
Then look at Mr. de Villefort.
There lies your proof.
Mr. de Villefort.
True.
True.
Yes, it's true.
It's quite true.
All is true.
Who are you?
Who are you?
I'm Edmond Dantès.
Edmond Dantès?
Very well, Baron. Five million livres.
- Are you staying long in Rome? - No
But long enough to see the sights, no doubt.
You're mistaken, Mr. Thomson.
I did not come here to see but to touch
Good day, monsieur.
Very good day to you, Baron Danglars.
To my hotel.
Devil!
That's right excellency. I am he.
For heavens, where are you taking me?
To hell, signor.
To hell.
Monsieur?
Valentine has gone.
No, no. I'll find it. I swear I'll find it.
It was not my fault.
- Leave me, woman! Leave me! - Please let me explain.
Don't worry. I'm going to find it. Now.
God!
For God's sake, give me peace!
Where's the wall?
The door.
The door.
The wall. The door in the wall.
The door to the stairs to the garden.
Human wretch, this is torture.
Torture, I'm not eating for 24 hours.
24 hours!
Just one moment, Excellency.
Here people pay before they eat.
- Pay? - Well, certainly.
You have money. Why should you not pay?
Very well, I'm too hungry to care. How much?
One million livres.
Indeed. That's funny. That's very funny indeed.
You see, I can take a joke in the next...
It's no joke, Excellency.
You have five million livres in your pocket.
You can afford to pay what we ask.
A million livres?
For a dish of chicken and a bottle of wine?
You'll be sticking to a man.
Friggin' bandit.
Bandit.
I'll die of hunger.
I'll die of hunger.
Very well, Excellency. Die.
I know the sacrifice you have made.
I know that you've given the Morcerf's fortune to charity
and that you will take nothing from Monte Cristo.
This is the key of that humble apartment
that young Dantès the sailor lived in long time ago.
He gives it to you now.
This box contains the small treasures that he amassed against his wedding day.
They're yours, because they were always yours.
It often happens.
That a first fault destroys the prospects of a whole life.
I believed you dead.
Why did I survive you?
What good has it done to mourn you eternally in my heart?
I'm an evil omen to those who surround me.
Mercedes.
You should not speak so.
You're a noble-minded woman.
You deal with yourself with too much severity.
Will you not even say that you will see me again?
We must say farewell.
Let us part.
Before I go, Mercedes...
...have you no request to make?
I desire but one thing in the world, Edmond.
The happiness of my son.
I will do everything in my power to promote this happiness.
Thank you.
Thank you, Edmond.
Edmond...
Edmond...
Something wrong with the food?
No.
I spent...
... five million livres on five meals.
How shall I pay for my next?
It's very simple, Excellency. If you can't pay, you don't eat.
- Then? - And then?
I suppose you'll suffer hunger.
And after you've suffered long enough, I suppose you will die.
Let me live. Let me live here.
Not in liberty anymore. Just life.
You're suffering.
Monte Cristo?
- You are mistaken. - Then who are you?
I am the man you sold and dishonoured.
I am the man whose betrothed you prostituted.
I am the man on whom you trampled to raise to fortune.
Because of me, the Morcerf has blown out his brains.
Because of me, the Villefort has lost his reason.
Because of me, you have lost your riches
and may never return to your native land.
I am Edmond Dantès.
Get up.
I have condemned you to die of starvation.
I have forgiven you because...
Is everything prepared to sail for Monte Cristo?
Of course. But what about him?
Let him go.
But why?
Why did you never tell me that it was you
who saved my dear father's life?
Because I grew to love you as I loved him.
You gave me your friendship.
And I valued it the more.
Because I knew that it was not inspired by any gratitude
that you might have felt had you known the facts.
My friends...
... tomorrow we feast.
Tomorrow we shall see the marriage I did.
Valentine,
to you I give one half of my fortune as your dowry.
Maximilian,
to you I entrust the most precious possession a man ever had.
Love her and protect her always.
For now she will be alone in the world.
Alone in the world?
And why?
Because, Haydée, tomorrow you will assume your proper position in society.
I restore to you your fortune and the name of your father.
I will not allow my destiny to overshadow yours.
Then you leave me, my kord.
Haydée, you're young and beautiful.
Forget even my name and be happy.
It is all? I shall obey.
I shall forget even your name and be happy.
- What are you saying? - I am young.
I love the life you have made so sweet for me
and will sure regret to leave it.
Haydée, do you mean that if I leave you...
I must die, my lord. Yes.
Do you then...
... love me?
Not as your daughter.
But as a woman, as a mistress, as a wife.
In these ways do I love you.
Love me then, Haydée.
Who knows?
Your love might help me to forget those things I wish not to remember.
There is neither misery nor happiness in the world.
There is only the comparison of one state with another.
He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to partake
of intense happiness.
And never forget,
that all human wisdom is contained in these two words.
Wait...
... and hope.
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