Original subtitles

No color in your cheeks, circles under your eyes?

You have become a poor, pale little ghost.

I shall send for Dr. Gottlieb.

I promise you, Othmar, there's nothing wrong with me.

It's just I'm not used to your kind of life yet

and being at court.

I'm tired, I've been sleeping badly,

and when I do sleep, I have these horrid dreams.

Very well, we won't send for Gottlieb yet.

My wife is excused all social duties for a week.

I prescribe a light diet and early nights,

but if there is no improvement.

There will be, I'm sure there will.

Thank you, dearest Otto.

Have you heard about Baroness Reicher?

Lotte?

Yes, our charming, feather-brained, lovable Lotte.

Too lovable, it seems, her indiscretions

have at last reached the emperor's ears.

And?

He has tried her, found her guilty,

and pronounced sentence upon her.

Sentence?

Two years behind convent walls.

But that's horrible, it's inhuman.

Lotte's only crime.

Was to be found out.

Oh, I'm sorry for her, you know I really am,

it won't be a bit the same without her.

Two years behind convent walls, I'd rather die.

Don't look so downhearted,

I can't see the same fate awaiting you.

Goodbye, my darling.

Lenke.

A letter for you, Countess.

Leave it on the table.

In late Victorian times,

there lived many detectives,

"The Rivals of Sherlock Holmes."

The same hand, the same loathsome accusations.

If all this were true,

we would be the most abandoned courtesans in Vienna.

We? Tildi, what are you saying?

For the past month, my dear,

I have been suffering the same persecution,

and our unknown enemy is certainly the same.

Compare the writing, it's identical.

Oh, my poor darling.

And I came to you for help.

Well, they say a trouble shared is a trouble halved,

and two heads are better than one.

Perhaps we can help each other.

Of course, my situation is different from yours.

Rich, young widows cannot easily defend themselves

against this sort of thing,

whereas you have the protection

of one of the greatest names in the land.

That's what I don't understand, Nadja.

You've only been married six months.

Otto worships the ground you walk on.

Why come to me when you could have confided in him?

Let Otto read those obscenities about me?

I would rather die.

Oh, you silly goose.

If you'd gone to him in the first place,

he would have set your mind at rest instantly.

But now, well, if he does find out,

by not telling him, it does rather look

as though you had a guilty secret to hide.

Tildi, don't!

Darling, I'm only trying to be sensible about it.

I know, I know.

I'm sure I'm being very foolish.

But there is one thing

in every one of these letters that is true.

Nadja, my dear, I never dreamt that-

No, no, it's not that.

When you were an actress?

I had every opportunity, but Otto

was the first man in my life, the only one, I swear it.

No, I'm speaking of something quite different.

The birthmark?

I have a small birthmark just here, under my breast.

Who in my life has ever seen it

or known of its existence?

Well, your mother.

Well, my nurse when I was a child, my doctor, Otto.

And the writer of these letters.

Yes, it's devilish.

That one fact alone could raise a doubt in a man's mind.

Is Otto jealous?

I've never given him the least cause,

but he loves me so much.

I think if he ever thought I betrayed him.

Oh, we are dealing with a monster, Nadja.

Not just a wicked person, but a clever one too.

Look, he knows of your birthmark,

he knows of this scar.

I fell down and cut myself when I was a little girl.

It's nothing now, you can hardly see it,

but he knows it's there,

and if my poor Leopold were still alive.

I understand your feelings now, darling.

I would be as frightened as you are.

Oh, no, Tildi, it could never be as bad for you.

My whole background is against me.

Oh, come, a leading lady of the Burgtheater,

a protege of the great Walter Frankenburg himself,

and married to a prince.

A morganatic marriage.

I will never be called archduchess,

and my children will never accede to the title.

But a marriage, nonetheless.

My dear, your life has been a fairy story in itself.

I used to think so,

but Cinderella lived happily ever after.

I never heard of anything like this happening to her.

Oh, Tildi, whatever can we do?

I suppose a person of the lower orders

might ask the police for help.

God forbid.

Precisely.

And if we consulted some private detective,

he would sell the story to the newspapers

the moment he knew who we were.

A private detective, yes!

Tildi, I've only just thought of it.

There is someone.

Do you know Dagobert Trostler?

I thought it was Queen Victoria.

Herr Trostler, I swear there is nothing personal in this,

but I discovered Nadja Dolin.

I recognized her genius,

and I made her the pride of the Burgtheater.

And you, my dear Walter,

introduced her to the Archduke Othmar, huh?

Yes, and how was I to guess the consequences?

Oh, come now, Herr Frankenburg, you exaggerate.

They fell in love and married and,

to my certain knowledge, are ecstatically happy.

In my view, sir, great artists

have no right to happiness, their lives are dedicated.

Ah, I disagree.

One may choose wrongly, but freedom of choice is everything.

Nadja chose her archduke.

There are some who might say

that he used his illustrious position

to rob our theater of one of its brightest jewels.

Ah.

Ah, ah, Berthold.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

I'm afraid I have to leave you.

Herr Frankenburg, I disagree with everything you say,

but it has been a great pleasure to make your acquaintance.

- Goodbye, Heinrich. - Dagobert.

Philistine.

No, no, no, no, no, that's unfair.

He's a rich bachelor, devil with the women,

close friend of the archduke,

and in one respect, he is remarkably gifted.

Gifted, that clothes-peg?

I speak as Commissioner of Police.

As an amateur, Dagobert

has an unsurpassed talent for detection.

Yes, the paper's of the finest quality.

Dutch or English, handmade.

And the writing?

Has been disguised with great skill.

There is such a mixture of male and female characteristics,

it's almost impossible to judge

whether the author is a man or a woman.

A woman, Herr Trostler?

You aren't seriously suggesting that a woman's mind

could sink to such depths of depravity.

My dear Countess, in everything that is good,

I put woman higher than man.

In everything that is evil, I put her lower.

Yes, Countess, a woman could have written these letters.

On the other hand, there are certain turns of phrase,

a vigor of expression, a flamboyancy even,

which suggests we are dealing with a man.

And now, Countess.

This, um, this friend of yours.

Yes?

Why is she not here with you?

There seemed no need to involve her.

Why?

Because our circumstances are different.

Her position is at once more exalted

and more vulnerable than mine.

Ah, I see, so you felt

that if I could expose this villain on your behalf,

I would be rendering her the same service

without any risk of embarrassment to her.

Yes.

How rare to find such selflessness in a woman.

You must be very devoted.

Oh, we are, we are.

Unfortunately, if I'm

to get to the bottom of this unpleasant business,

I shall need the help of both of you.

Please tell Countess Nadja I said so.

How could you possibly guess?

Your description of your friend

could have fitted no one else.

You should have come to me

in the first place, Herr Trostler.

Do you sell much of it?

Enough to justify keeping

a sufficient stock in hand, no more.

Do you wish me to add your name

to those whom I already supply?

No, no, no, Wiegand, I don't.

But the emperor has done you the honor

of making you purveyor of stationery to

and I'm sure you would leap at the chance

of rendering a member of his family a small service.

Ah, good morning, Baroness Heffner.

Oh, my dear Herr Trostler, anything, anything at all.

I wish to know the names of all those customers

to whom you supply this particular kind

There is not the least problem,

I need not even consult my ledger.

It is all here, Herr Trostler, all here.

The emperor himself,

the Archduke Franz Ferdinand,

Count Czernik, the Lord High Chamberlain

of the Serbian court,

Herr Walter Frankenburg of the Burgtheater.

Herr Frankenburg?

Yes, and Sir Giles Pakenham-Montrose,

the British ambassador.

Is that the complete list?

The only names I can give you,

but there is one other customer

whose name is not known to me.

Ah, a man or a woman?

I cannot say.

A man calls once a month, but he is obviously a servant

making the purchase on behalf of his employer.

And since he always pays in cash.

Have you never asked him who his employer was?

- No. - When was he last here?

Exactly a week ago.

So, you don't expect to see him

for at least another three weeks?

That is so.

Yes, pity, well, thank you, Herr Wiegand,

you have been most obliging.

My pleasure, Herr Trostler, my pleasure.

What is it?

A minute shred of tobacco.

In several letters, I found a few such particles.

It doesn't sound a very momentous discovery.

Oh, on the contrary, madam,

it shows us something useful about our man.

Ah, then it is a man?

I'm almost certain.

And what does it show you?

I am a connoisseur of tobacco.

That shred, and all the others I found in the letters

are of a variety known as Sultan Flor,

a light-yellow Turkish tobacco, cut rather fine and long.

It's expensive and is only used in self-made cigarettes,

the kind you make yourself.

But women smoke cigarettes these days.

Yes, it is quite the fashion, I grant you.

But is there a single lady of your acquaintance

who makes her own cigarettes?

No, no, I can't think of one.

Precisely, in my experience,

it is essentially a masculine habit.

Yes, so far, all the indications suggest a man.

And now, ladies, let me apologize.

I'm afraid I have not been completely frank

with either of you.

I think I'm closer to the truth of this matter

than I dared to hope a few hours ago.

You know who the villain is?

Not yet.

But this I can say with absolute certainty,

the writer of these letters is well-educated,

affluent, and known intimately to both of you.

That narrows the field considerably,

but I can do better still.

Out of six, only four are possible candidates

for this, for this race.

That leaves me with two rank outsiders,

a dark horse whose form is still not known to me,

and the odds-on favorite.

I am putting my money on the favorite.

Oh, then tell us who he is.

Oh, Herr Trostler, I implore you.

Ah, if I did, it might spoil everything.

But why?

You might find it hard to act naturally

when you next meet him.

I don't want to put him on his guard.

No, that would ruin the plan I have in mind.

And this is where I shall need your help, Countess.

What can I do?

Here is a list of people,

including the Countess Tildi Leys and myself,

they are all known to you, and all are socially acceptable

to both you and your husband.

In two days' time, I want you to give a small soiree,

inviting every one of them.

- Your suspect is among them? - Of course.

Will you do this for me?

Of course.

And if your plan works,

will you expose this man before the whole company?

Oh, heavens, no, the best I can hope for

is that he will betray himself in some way,

if I succeed, no one else will be aware of it.

When I take my leave of your party,

delay the other guests for at least another hour.

That is just the time I shall need to set my trap.

Very well, Dagobert.

Now I must go, Otto thinks I'm at home.

- Ah. - Resting.

Don't forget this, Countess.

Au revoir, Dagobert, and please,

we are such old friends, call me Nadja, again.

Au revoir, Nadja.

Berthold, show these ladies to their carriage.

Will you not grant me the same favor?

It is no favor, it is a pleasure, my dear Tildi.

And I hope that I may have the pleasure

of your calling on me.

Countess Tildi Leys, Felberstrasse, 10 Vienna 3.

My dear Tildi.

No, no, that won't do, my dear fellow,

old hedonists like you can't fall in love.

Ah, Berthold, what is it?

The commissioner of police is here, sir,

and wishes to know if you'll receive him.

Ah, the commissioner.

- Show him in at once. - Very good, sir.

Dr. Weinlich.

My dear Heinrich, what a delightful surprise.

Is it business or pleasure?

Anticipated pleasure, Dagobert.

Of all my friends, you keep the best brandy in Vienna.

Berthold, bring the brandy.

- Make yourself comfortable. - Thank you.

Ah, a cigar.

Ah, yes, you also keep the best Havanas, too.

Thank you.

Ah, thank you, Berthold.

And the best company, it seems, eh, eh?

Oh, I saw the ladies departing.

Mm, I recognized them instantly.

Yes, I'm glad it was you and no one else,

this is rather a delicate matter.

Oh, don't worry, my dear fellow,

I shan't breathe a word.

In your experience, Heinrich,

what kind of person writes anonymous letters?

Oh, so that's it, eh?

Well, all kinds, Dagobert, from disgruntled servants

to jealous husbands and wealthy industrialists.

I can even remember one old maid

who came to us for help.

She'd been receiving an absolute flood of letters,

accusing her of the most scandalous and indecent antics.

Yes, in the end, we found she was writing them to herself.

But that was an exception.

What are the most common motives?

Mm, malice, envy, sadism.

The knowledge that you can torture your victim

with relative impunity is a strong incentive.

Would you say that the writing of such letters

could be an end in itself?

Oh, most always, yes.

But I have known some rare cases

where it was the prelude to a more sinister end.

Otto, what are you doing here?

Drinking a glass of port.

Well, the truth is I wondered

what on earth I was doing at a dull reception

when I might be here with my own wife,

so I came straight home.

Oh, darling.

But there was no wife waiting for me.

You were supposed to be here, resting.

I know, but I was so bored and lonely.

And suddenly I felt so much better,

I decided to drive round and see Tildi.

You are better, color in your cheeks,

a sparkle in your eyes, my treatment's working.

You look like a little girl in love.

Oh, I am, darling, I'm terribly in love.

But still convalescent, you mustn't overdo things.

It's nearly 10:30, I suggest you go to bed.

As your personal physician, I shall attend to you presently.

Otto.

I want to give a party.

Not even convalescent, completely cured.

Of course you can give a party, a ball, if you wish,

and invite the emperor, too.

Oh, no, no, no, just a small party.

What is it, Lenke?

This letter came for Your Imperial Highness

by the late post.

Thank you, Lenke.

Nadja?

"That delectable birthmark known only

to those fortunate gentlemen who share your wife's favors."

Here are this morning's letters, sir.

Ah, Deubner, thank you.

And there is a person outside requesting to see you, sir.

Oh, what manner of person?

Some minor official from the Ministry of Works.

Shall I send him away?

By all means.

Oh, no, I guess I'd better see him.

Yes, sir.

What is it that you want?

I'm sorry to trouble you, sir.

I have an order here to inspect

all the premises on the Lisenstrasse.

The ministry proposes-

Never mind what the ministry proposes.

One gets used to these bureaucratic interferences.

Deubner, show him round.

"His Imperial Highness, the Archduke Othmar,

and Countess Nadja command your presence?"

In what way, changed?

He was so loving and affectionate,

so happy to find me in better spirits.

An hour later it was like being with a different man.

He was quiet and withdrawn, as though

some kind of barrier had sprung up between us.

This morning it was still the same.

Ah, we mustn't jump to conclusions.

He may have some problem weighing on his mind

that has nothing to do with this matter.

But it may have to do with this matter.

Yes, we can't dismiss the possibility.

Don't lose your courage now.

However he behaves, seem not to notice,

be as gay and cheerful as you were last night.

- Dagobert, I can't. - You must.

You're a great actress.

Give the performance of your life,

and soon, I'm confident I can put an end

to your miseries and Tildi's, too.

What a dear man you are.

We owe you so much.

Mm, not yet.

It's true, whatever happens now, even if you fail,

I'll never be such a little coward again.

Do you know I was ready to kill myself?

As for poor Tildi.

What of Tildi?

Oh, you've quite captured her heart.

Dagobert, you are in love.

Since you say it, yes, I fear I am.

Fear, what is there to fear from falling in love?

I was born to pleasure, and I've lived for it.

I never dreamt that I was capable of any deep emotions.

And now, after all these years,

to discover that I'm as vulnerable as the next man.

My dear Nadja, I find it most disturbing.

I think it's wonderful.

I implore you, until this affair is settled,

give her no hint of what I've told you.

Ah, come in.

Oh, excuse me, sir.

That's all right, Berthold.

Berthold?

Au revoir, Dagobert, you won't fail us tomorrow evening?

I would never dream of missing such a delightful occasion.

Berthold, no, I can't possibly have him showing you

to your carriage in those disgraceful clothes.

I shall escort you myself.

Wait in here, Berthold,

and do get rid of that ridiculous mustache.

Ah, well, how did you fare?

No difficulty, sir.

They didn't question my credentials, it was an easy job.

Now look, sir, I've made a rough plan.

Now, there's only one room in the house

where any writing's done,

and that's Frankenburg's study.

It leads off the drawing room here,

and here there's a French window

which leads out onto a small balcony.

What floor is this?

It's the floor above the basement.

It's only a six-foot drop from the balcony to the garden.

Excellent, Berthold.

You've done very well.

Thank you, sir.

Is anything wrong, sir?

No, everything is right.

Almost too right.

When things go too smoothly, I start to feel uneasy.

Foolish, I suppose.

Well, we can only wait until tomorrow night.

Your Excellency.

Ladies and gentlemen, gentlemen,

you may smoke if you wish.

- My dear! - It is my party, Othmar.

Walter, how lovely to see you.

Your Excellency, permit me

to introduce an old friend of mine, Herr Dagobert Trostler.

The new British ambassador,

Sir Willoughby Erskine-Chalmers, and Lady Erskine-Chalmers.

May I congratulate Your Excellency on your appointment?

Thank you, very sudden, you know.

Indeed, I've been absent,

I haven't seen the court circular.

Pakenham-Montrose only got his marching orders last week.

Moved on to higher things, what?

Oh, really?

Glass of champagne, Herr Frankenburg?

No champagne, thank you.

I was merely enjoying the air.

Ah, Herr Trostler, I recognize voices before faces.

An Havana, perhaps?

I smoke cigarettes, and I make my own.

It's a vulgar habit, but in the theater, Herr Trostler,

one has no time to enjoy a cigar between acts.

Stay where you are.

Put your hands above your head and stand over there.

Hello? Give me the Central Police Station.

But you must see you're putting me

in a quite impossible position.

Yes, I'm sorry, my dear Heinrich.

Sorry, indeed.

For two days, I have been holding a criminal

calling himself Carl Schmidt, a man accused

of breaking and entering and attempted robbery

and trying to find excuses

not to bring him before the magistrate.

Do you realize what will happen to me

if the truth gets out?

Yes, you will be cashiered

for conduct unbecoming a chief commissioner.

Your humor is in very poor taste.

And let me tell you this,

people are beginning to inquire

what has happened to Herr Trostler.

Yes, all sorts of rumors are flying around.

They have only to ask at my residence.

My poor mother was taken ill,

and I have been down to Salzburg to see her.

All very fine, but I've put my career in jeopardy

by shielding a guilty man.

Oh, come, now.

But you guilty on your own admission,

breaking and entering is a criminal offense.

For which I have been punished by two days in your cell.

You must try them yourself, Heinrich.

The rats are very fast, the fleas abundant,

and the food is quite appalling.

- Serves you right. - Calm down, my dear fellow.

Berthold will be here any moment with the proof I need,

and when he comes, your misery will be over.

Really, but I-

Believe me, Heinrich, you have been a good friend,

and I'll never abuse friendship.

This two-day respite has been absolutely necessary.

Well, if you say so.

I do.

Ah, this is an excellent Havana.

You're acquiring my expensive tastes.

Yes, well, you're leading me into bad habits.

Come in!

Ah, come in, Berthold.

Well, that will be all, Sergeant, leave us.

- You have the letters? - Yes, sir.

Give them to the commissioner.

What am I supposed to do with them?

Hold one up to the light,

so that you can see the address obliquely.

Now tell me what your trained eye observes.

An address written on an envelope.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, but what else?

Nothing else.

You're getting too old for the job, Heinrich,

or else your eyes are failing.

The ink has a distinct metallic sheen.

My eyesight is excellent, and there's no metallic sheen.

There must be, there has to be.

There isn't.

Well?

Before that damn pistol was pointed at me,

I put a few drops of bronze tincture

into Frankenburg's inkwell.

And?

Wrong inkwell.

How very embarrassing for you.

Yes, a disappointment, a setback,

indeed, nothing worse.

Berthold, take a message to the Countess Tildi Leys.

Tell her I have returned from Salzburg.

And that she can find him in cell 22

at the Central Police Station.

Now, don't be absurd, Heinrich,

this is where I'm going to need your help.

My poor Dagobert,

this is where my help ends and duty intervenes.

I can do nothing more for you,

absolutely nothing, do you understand?

Absolutely nothing!

So I agreed to accompany Herr Trostler-

Oh, Commissioner, pray, come to the point.

Well, I was only trying to make it clear

that my presence here is entirely unofficial.

Very well, and what of Herr Trostler?

Yes, well, he is here, sir,

to make a somewhat strange confession to you.

Then I suggest that you let Herr Trostler

make his strange confession.

I came as soon as I received your note.

What did Berthold say?

That his master has returned from Salzburg, but-

Thank God, oh, darling, that last letter,

it was horrible.

Horrible, it was the worst of all.

Oh, I know, so was mine.

Then let's go and see Dagobert now.

- He's not at home. - But you said he'd come-

He has returned from Salzburg, but he can't see us today.

He begs us to call on him tomorrow morning at 11:00.

I can't wait till then.

Oh, darling, we have to be patient.

Oh, you're much braver than me, Tildi.

I've less to lose, that's all.

The writing paper you use,

those few shreds of Sultan Flor tobacco,

your manner of expression.

You even, in somewhat reckless terms,

expressed your disapproval of the royal marriage

and your desire to see the Countess Nadja restored

to her former career.

Everything, Herr Frankenburg, seemed to point to you.

Herr Trostler, I have already told you

that I am an artist.

I speak as the spirit moves me,

yet I would never hurt those whom I loved.

With reason, I admit, you have suspected me

of having perpetrated a disgusting crime.

Yet, had I been guilty, what reason do you suppose,

would have driven me to abuse

the Countess Tildi Leys in like manner?

A charming lady who, to my certain knowledge,

has no theatrical ability whatsoever?

What should I gain there?

It was, I agree, the most baffling aspect of the case.

Yes, there are some who may not approve your methods.

They are, indeed, unorthodox.

But if you have not yet arrived at the truth,

you have at least established my innocence,

for which I am grateful.

Your Imperial Highness rang?

Order my carriage.

At once, your Highness.

I'm glad it wasn't my dear Walter.

Yes, I was hoodwinked very successfully.

But that sort of thing doesn't happen twice

to Dagobert Trostler.

I know where I stand now,

and this time I shall not fail you.

Where is Tildi this morning?

She sends her fond regards.

She has a bad headache and is unable to be here.

Oh, you cannot guess how anxious we have been.

Indeed, I can.

There is a subtle change of tone in these letters,

less abusive and obscene, more, more menacing,

as if the cat had grown tired of playing with the mice

and now felt ready for the kill.

Dagobert, don't!

Facts must be faced.

I am now persuaded this is no ordinary case

of anonymous letter writing,

but the prelude to something more sinister.

Trust me now, dear.

You must both trust me.

Thank God for your dear friendship.

Ah, your hands are cold, let me get you some brandy.

Oh, no, truly, Dagobert, I am perfectly well.

I must be leaving now.

How is Othmar?

He's better, very gentle and kind,

but at moments he's strangely abstracted,

as though there was some conflict in his mind.

Yes, indeed, I think there might be.

Disregard it, ask no questions,

be the loving wife you are

and hide your own distress from him.

Give my love to Tildi.

Oh, may I?

No, not yet.

My warmest regards and best wishes for a speedy recovery.

Berthold, show the lady to her carriage.

Where is your master?

Take me to him at once.

He's in his study, Your Highness, I'll tell him.

Sir, sir!

Out!

Your Imperial Highness.

Villain, vile seducer.

I condescended to call you friend,

and you betray me with my own wife.

You can tell your seconds to call on me tonight.

Although you are a commoner,

I shall not decline to meet you.

Stop, I command you!

Dead men do not command princes.

Good God, sir, you've hit a Hapsburg.

Dear, dear Nadja.

Why did you say that?

I never dreamt that I was capable of any deep emotion.

She told you?

After all these years, I discover

that I am as vulnerable as the next man.

I said that to Nadja in trust.

Is it still so disturbing?

Yes.

Oh, dear, dear Dagobert, why so sad?

Look at me, I am happy, happier than I've been in years.

Today you brought me roses, and I kissed your roses.

And now you've kissed me.

Why, Tildi, why?

Never ask why of anything, my darling.

Accept love. Accept me.

There, now I shall go and dress

and make myself beautiful, so you'll be proud of me.

- Madam? - Oh, so formal.

I asked Nadja to say nothing to you.

Dagobert, women are loyal to each other.

And cruel.

Only in love.

Have you ever been in love?

What a question.

Are you now?

Have you forgotten the things

that I whispered to you less than an hour ago?

Are you?

Oh, Dagobert, how very serious you are.

I am, in earnest.

Oh, not today, not now.

How loyal are you to Nadja?

She's my dearest, closest friend.

"Your disgraceful conduct is now known to his highness

in every sordid detail, harbor no illusions.

He's only waiting to ask his imperial majesty

to dissolve union which has brought shame upon

entire royal family.

The fate you will so richly deserve,

five years behind convent walls,

count on nothing less."

My poor darling, poor darling,

how she must have suffered.

Thank you, Dagobert, for hitting me.

A shrewd blow, it damaged my jaw and restored my wits.

But what an abject performance,

a prince of the blood behaving like a common grocer.

How many letters have you received?

Two, the first, seven days ago.

Believe me, Dagobert, I would have dismissed it from my mind

with the contempt it deserved, but for one thing.

Ah, the birthmark on the body.

Yes, that went on nagging like an aching tooth.

However much I tried, I couldn't explain that to myself.

And the second letter?

Was much more explicit.

It simply said that if I wanted proof

of Nadja's infidelities, I had only to watch your house.

You might have had a long wait.

Oh, not at all.

It gave me the exact time of your meeting on that day.

What? When did the letter come?

By the morning's post.

Oh, dear God.

Oh, my dear fellow, what's the matter?

Are you ill?

No, no, I'm perfectly well, it's just that.

I'm bound to ask Your Highness

what you may consider to be an indelicate question.

Dagobert, my darling, what are you trying to say?

Before the archduke fell in love with Nadja,

you yourself had a passionate affair with him.

Who would tell you such a thing?

- The archduke himself. - Never.

I was obliged to ask him outright.

No gentleman would ever betray-

No lady, madam, would ever dare

to destroy her dearest, closest friend.

I haven't the faintest notion what you're talking about.

Oh, Dagobert, only a day ago you held me, you were so-

Yes, I did.

I, like Nadja, had such faith in you.

Oh, madam, you must have been the author of those letters.

For a moment, I believed you were in earnest.

I am in deadly earnest.

Then you have quite taken leave of your senses.

Have you forgotten that I am a victim, too?

I also have received letters.

Yes, a very clever move to divert suspicion from yourself.

I haven't the faintest notion what you're talking about.

Put yourself in Nadja's place.

All along, you pose as her bosom friend and confidante.

And at some time, doubtless without her being aware of it,

you had seen the birthmark on her body.

Now you would have seemed the fellow victim

of this vile persecution.

A very clever move, indeed, but not enough

to satisfy someone as ruthless and scheming as yourself.

You don't know what you're say.

Supposing desperation drove Nadja to seek help

in tracing the writer of these letters,

that could prove very embarrassing.

So, you used Frankenburg

as the second part of your safeguard.

A celebrated impresario, who had never attempted

to disguise his opposition to Nadja's marriage.

You knew his habits well enough.

You could imitate his manner of expression.

Your servant purchased the same kind of writing paper,

and, what a brilliant touch,

you even introduced those few shreds of Sultan Flor.

Lies, lies.

If the finger of suspicion had to point anywhere,

you had made certain it would be at Frankenburg.

No, madam.

Oh, Dag.

I cannot fault your choice.

And when Nadja, in despair, wanted to consult me,

you were again equal to the occasion.

You played the part of the selfless friend,

anxious to protect someone at once more exalted

and more vulnerable than yourself.

Your real aim was to keep her in the dark,

while you hoped to be informed of any progress I might make.

It didn't work, but it deceived me thoroughly,

very thoroughly.

How clever you make me sound.

Oh, no, no, no, no,

I think cunning is a better word.

Oh, Dagobert, no.

Nadja, Nadja is very highly strung.

You hoped to create in her a state of anxiety so apparent

that once her husband, once his suspicions had been aroused,

might easily regard it as signs of a guilty conscience.

You nearly succeeded.

What are you trying to do to me?

Think what would have happened to Nadja.

Five years, at least, in the convent.

And that was what you wanted,

time to win back Othmar's love.

If the emperor refused to have the marriage annulled,

you were confident that very soon

you would be once more enjoying all the privileges

of a royal mistress.

How dare you?

Get out. Get out!

Don't ring for your servant.

He would be no match for me.

I pity you, Herr Trostler.

I proved that Frankenburg did not write those letters,

and from that moment, you were in danger.

And then you made your first mistake.

The letter the archduke received two days ago,

only you and Nadja knew that I'd invited you to visit me.

You feigned a headache, and she walked alone

into the trap you would set for her,

it just failed to close on both of us.

Oh, Dagobert.

But it did fail, and instantly I knew

who the guilty person was.

The same means which proved Frankenburg's innocence

have proved your downfall, madam.

How you dare, dare to accuse me-

A day ago, I called on you.

You brought me roses, and now you humiliate me.

You have been play-acting, madam,

and I played into your hands, yes.

Yes, I fell in love with you.

And you accepted my love as a heaven-sent opportunity

to divert me from the truth.

You accepted my love.

I had hoped, madam, for some last-minute revelation,

some detail which would have proved me wrong.

Ooh, you've tricked me!

Yes, yes!

A base deception, I admit.

Here is the letter Nadja received from you this morning.

Hold it up to the light.

You will see that the writing

has an unmistakable bronze sheen.

I have put a few drops of bronze tincture in your inkwell.

Only you could have written it.

Have pity on me, Dagobert.

Have pity on me now.

Why should I pity you?

The reason is in your heart.

It is not for me to decide your fate.

You mean you will tell his highness?

I have no choice.

Then I have no choice, either.

You have just sentenced me to death.

Oh, no!

What is it?

Cyanide, enough poison to destroy a regiment.

And you really think she meant to use it?

Unquestionably.

What are we to do with her?

It is already done.

I gave her the choice of facing the scandal

and its consequences, or going into voluntary exile

for five years.

She chose exile?

Yes, and has already left on the train for Paris.

Damn it, Dagobert.

I was about to say that it was none of your business,

that it was for me to decide.

You've been absurdly lenient,

but I'm glad, yes, glad and grateful.

So am I, dearest Dagobert.

Come and see us soon.

Goodbye, my dear Countess.

Goodbye, my dear fellow.

I hate to think what would have happened

if you hadn't been on hand.

Poor Dagobert.

Why poor Dagobert?

Because he loved Tildi, that's all.