A Tale of Two Cities (1958) Movie Script

Get up!
Go on!
Get up! Get up!
Get up!
Get up! Get up!
- Shall we have 'em out, Tom?
- Yeah.
I'm obliged to ask you to
lighten the load up the hill.
I think you'll have some slight
difficulty in... waking my companion.
Sir? Sir!
Wake up, if you'd be so kind, sir.
No breakfast for me.
I never take breakfast.
Breakfast? We're a long
way from Dover yet, sir.
Then what the devil's happening?
We are mud-bound, sir, and have
been asked to lighten the load.
Ah.
Then it shall be lightened.
A little help for hard-working horses
is a worthy cause to one who
detests work as much as I do.
Indeed, sir. For a man
of business like myself,
it would be a matter
of serious disability.
Er, no. I thank you.
Ho! Away!
- You, I presume, are not a man of business.
- Business? Lord love you, no, sir.
Nothing nearly so respectable.
But you need have no cause for alarm.
- If I were the robber you now suspect...
- No, no.
.. is it likely that I should be
travelling unattended to the assizes?
Ah! The assizes. You
are a lion of the law?
A lion? You flatter me, sir.
I'm a jackal rendering service to a far
better-fed lion than I shall ever become.
When one is born without energy...
Whoa there!
- What do you say?
- It's an 'orse coming up at a canter.
I say 'orse coming up at a gallop, Tom.
Gentlemen, in the
King's name. Both of you.
It will be useless, I fear, to
assure you this is no partner of mine.
Whoa there!
You! Stand or I shall fire
Is that the Dover Mail?
Why do you want to know?
Have you got a passenger -
Mr Jarvis Lorry?
No. Carton. Sydney Carton is my name.
I am Jarvis Lorry. Who wants me?
It's Jerry, master. Jerry Cruncher.
I've got an urgent despatch
for you from T and Company.
I know this messenger well,
guard. There's nothing to fear.
I belong to Tellson's Bank in London.
I'm going to Paris on business.
- Wait. A crown for a drink.
- Hello, you!
- Yes?
- Come on at footpace.
If you're wearing a pistol don't
let me see your hand go near it
Whoa.
Here, there, master.
Wait at Dover for Mam'selle.
Huh!
Recalled to life.
Beg pardon, sir?
That will serve for my answer.
- Recalled to life.
- It's a blazin' strange answer.
Take back that message. They will know I
received this as well as if I wrote myself.
Good night, Jerry.
Good night, sir.
Recalled to life.
Come on.
That was indeed a
blazing strange answer.
Whoa! Away there!
Go on! Get up!
Morning, sir.
Morning.
I want a bedroom and a barber.
- Yes, Mr Lorry.
- If you please.
I wish accommodation to be
prepared also for a young lady.
- A Miss Manette.
- Yes Mr Lorry
She will be arriving
by the evening Mail.
I'll have rooms prepared.
And for you, sir?
- Nothing at all, apart from a bowl of punch.
- No bed, sir?
I seldom keep awake long
enough to reach my bed.
Nor, alas, can I look forward to the
pleasure of being joined by a young lady.
You are travelling home
to France, Miss Manette?
- I'm going to Paris.
- Oh.
But England has long been my home.
You know this country well?
I used to come here
often before the war.
It's a pleasure to be
able to travel freely again
I fear this is my destination.
Oh.
How very rude.
May I hope we shall meet again?
- Perhaps on the packet ship tomorrow.
- Get up there
It would be a pleasure to me, Mr Darnay.
There goes an evil-minded
blackguard, if ever I saw one.
Who? Mr Darnay?
Oh, I thought he was a
most agreeable gentleman.
No, not your Mr Darnay. The other one.
I might have known you'd
have eyes for nobody else.
Ah!
There you are, Sydney.
Have you done yet?
There.
Mm-hm.
Yes. You've had your bottle, I perceive.
Two tonight.
I dined with our client.
Or rather, I watched
him dine. It's all one.
You were very sound in the matter
of those Crown witnesses today.
- I'm always sound.
- I don't deny it.
If to your talent you
would only add purpose
and energy.
Pray, spare me your favourite
example of the man I might have been.
You cannot blind yourself to the
truth. We began level at school.
Even then I did your exercises
for you, and seldom my own.
Whose fault was that?
It was your fault my dear Stryver
It's been in your nature always
to be driving and riving
and pressing and shouldering
to such a restless degree,
that I had no chance in my own life
but in rest and repose.
Is that the Mail I hear?
It is. If I may point a moral, Sydney...
Oh! Hello!
Hello! What a charming creature.
Look, Sydney.
Here
Most picturesque.
How say you?
Oh come Sydney show some taste for once
Isn't she truly delightful?
A pretty little doll.
Sydney, if you were a
fellow of any sensitiveness,
any delicacy...
Oh, but then I know you
never mean half you say.
A pretty little doll, indeed!
I'm not sure, Miss Manette, how much
you have learned already from the bank
about this affair.
Miss Manette, when your
father married the English lady
who was your mother,
I, on behalf of Tellson's
Bank, was one of the trustees.
Your father, like many
other French gentlemen,
left his affairs entirely
in Tellson's hands.
Please understand that I handled
this matter as a man of business,
and therefore a man without sentiment.
A mere machine
I am still waiting
for you to begin, sir.
Yes. Yes, I'm going to.
I find it very difficult
to relate this story to you
in such a way that you will be
able to bear the hearing of it.
I can bear anything, sir,
rather than the insecurity in
which you leave me at the moment.
You speak collectedly.
That's good.
This story is incomplete.
It relies largely on some information we
have received from a man named Defarge,
who was formerly your father's servant.
According to this man Defarge, it appears
that one night, some eighteen years ago,
your father, Dr Manette, was returning
home late after attending a case in Paris,
when he received an urgent summons to
the country home of a certain nobleman.
The patient was a young peasant girl
The doctor found her suffering
from a high fever of the brain
To keep her quiet
she had been gagged and
tied with sashes and scarves
No-one considered that
she might suffocate
In fact it would not have shortened
her life by much if she had
For although Dr Manette was
able to ease her last hours
she died that same day
from the violence she had
suffered in body and mind
Nor was she the only victim
of that young nobleman
In the stables was a boy
of seventeen her brother
He was dying from a sword wound
It was while Dr Manette
was attending him
that he heard the full story from the
servant a man by the name of Gabelle
They were a family of
four, my master's tenants.
Which means that nothing they possessed
was their own, not even their bodies.
The law allows the father no right
to resist a claim on his daughter,
but their father resisted.
You're perhaps aware that
these nobles have the right
to harness their tenant to a cart
and drive him like a horse or dog!
That's what happened to their father.
This boy was set on revenge but
my master's a skilful swordsman
- Doctor!
- Yes. Yes, my poor fellow, I'm a doctor.
Lie quiet, now. Let me see to this.
- My sister?
- I've seen your sister.
She is... at peace now.
My other sister.
All alone.
There's a second sister.
Only fifteen, God help her.
Who told you to bring the doctor here?
Erm, Monseigneur, the
boy is suffering so much,
- I thought perhaps...
- Get out!
Doctor, you were not summoned here to
listen to the babblings of this hind.
You...
You promise?
This boy is dead.
You may forget these serfs.
I wish to impress upon you, Doctor,
that the things you have seen
and heard are not to be spoken of.
You would do well to mark that
Dr Manette had a conscience which
would not allow him to heed that warning
He decided it was his duty to write a
report of these events to the Minister
This action he confided
only to his servant Defarge
I'm telling you this, Defarge, because
I know what influence these nobles have.
Should I be prevented from
keeping my promise to that boy...
- It will be carried out.
- His last concern was for his younger sister.
She is now alone and unprotected.
I promised him I would do my best to save
her from the sport of that gallant gentleman.
- My parents... in our village...
- She would be safe there, I think.
Safe as any child of the people may
expect to be in this France of ours.
Then tomorrow, Defarge,
you will see to it.
I must go to my patient.
He went out of the door.
He never came back.
Murdered?
No, Miss Manette.
That was not his fate.
What, then, was the manner of his death?
Miss Manette, Miss Lucie,
all this time we have had
no word of what befell him
after he passed through that door.
We could only conjecture.
We never dared to hope.
And now, after eighteen
years, he has been found.
He is alive. Greatly changed, no doubt,
but who would not be after all those
years in that vilest of prisons?
The Bastille?
But he is alive, and free.
His old servant is taking
care of him, that same Defarge.
He later married the girl that he had protected,
and they now keep a wine shop in Paris.
It is there we are going tomorrow.
Oh, Mr Darnay!
Madam?
You are not Mr Darnay.
- Mr Carton.
- I'm so sorry.
But at your service, nevertheless.
I do beg your pardon, sir. I was under
the impression that you were someone else.
Would that I were!
Providing always that my awakening
was graced by so charming a lady.
Oh, come away! The man's not yet sober.
TWO such charming ladies.
Ah, you are ready.
- Where is that porter? Porter!
- Coming sir
I've been to the sea. Our
crossing should be tolerable.
At last. And the lady's baggage.
Oh, the good fortune of some gentlemen,
to be bound for France
with a fair lady for escort.
We are travelling to Paris,
sir, on a matter of business.
I see.
Then may I wish you an agreeable voyage?
And you, sir, an
agreeable business trip.
Goodbye, Prossie. Have
a good journey home.
Yes.
Perhaps... perhaps I may offer you
a small consolation, madam, for the
disappointment of being left behind.
Disappointment? If ever it was
intended that I should cross salt water,
do you suppose Providence would
have cast my lot on an island?
What a strange prejudice.
France has so much to commend her.
One cask only.
One only Monsieur Defarge
Even that is more than
they have the money to buy.
Ah, the people will soon
forget the very taste of wine.
Many of them have forgotten it already.
Aye, we taste nothing
but black bread and death.
We'd do well to bolt the door.
Once the tiger's tasted blood...
Tiger? Poor, crazed cattle.
Enough, Gaspard!
Your pardon, Monsieur.
Strangers are rare in this quarter.
I think you're looking for me.
Ernest Defarge.
My name is Mr Lorry.
This is Miss Manette.
Miss Lucie.
My wife.
You'll have forgotten me, I think.
Follow me closely.
I'm afraid of it.
Of "it"? What?
Of him.
Of my father.
Good day.
Still hard at work, I see.
Yes, sir. I'm working.
We have a visitor today
Show Monsieur that
shoe you are working at.
Take it, Monsieur.
Now, tell Monsieur
what kind of shoe it is,
and the maker's name.
It's a lady's shoe.
And the maker's name?
105 North Tower.
Is that all the name you have?
105 North Tower.
Monsieur Manette,
do you remember nothing of me?
Do you remember nothing of this man?
Look at him.
Look at me
Is there nothing rising in your mind?
You recognised him, Monsieur?
Yes. Just for a moment. I thought at first
it was hopeless, but just for a moment...
Back
What is this?
You're the jailer's daughter?
Who are you?
Oh, my dear. Soon you
shall know my name.
All you need to understand now
is that your agony is over.
I have come to take you away.
Away from France
to peace...
.. and rest.
Good gentlemen,
he understands.
Thank God.
Good morning. Is Miss Lucie at home?
No, she's out walking with her father.
- How is Dr Manette?
- Progressing. How else with such a daughter?
- He even talks of starting up in practice again.
- She's very devoted.
Well, you'd better come in.
Miss Pross,
I have come here to ask certain
questions of you, as well as Miss Lucie.
- Of me?
- Do you recall a certain gentleman
who talked with Miss Lucie in the Dover
Mail when you brought her to meet me?
What if I do? He was respectable enough.
Quite. I agree.
He happens to be a client of mine.
- Mr Darnay?
- Charles Darnay.
Now, do you also recall
another passenger in the coach?
Another foreigner?
A man named Barsad?
There was an evil-looking ruffian
who never opened his ugly mouth.
- Seated beside Mr Darnay?
- Yes, he was.
Good. That is the evidence we want.
What's all this about?
I'm afraid, Miss Pross, my client
finds himself in grave trouble.
He appears to be the victim of a pernicious
plot engineered, I am sure, by this man Barsad.
What do you want?
There's a Monsieur
Barsad here to see you.
Ah. Send him in.
- Oh, Father, I hate him.
- I know, child. I know.
But as long as they have these rights,
you know what it means to resist.
If only Monsieur
Charles would come back.
And he's already in prison?
Newgate. Awaiting his trial.
Eating and sleeping with
the scum of the streets.
Excellent. A nobleman
condemned to live with cattle.
My cousin would at last begin to appreciate
the benefits of our own good French system.
Ah, my dear friend.
Miss Lucie.
And Dr Manette.
Mr Lorry, I'm very concerned to hear from
Miss Pross about our friend in the Dover Mail.
Charles Darnay. Yes.
A bad business. He's to appear
at the Old Bailey next week.
What is the charge against him?
He is accused of being in possession
of secret papers on naval matters,
which he is said to have
been taking to France.
A spy?
But I don't believe it!
Nor I. I'm sure those papers were planted
on his person without his knowledge.
I have engaged a very able
counsel for his defence.
A man named Stryver.
Now, this gentleman wishes me to ask you
if you would be willing
to appear in court
in Mr Darnay's defence.
- Willingly.
- Good.
And I shall arrange for you to be
escorted there by a messenger of the bank.
Flowers, lady! Flowers.
Swam ashore from the hulks.
Be a long time before
he takes a bath again.
Don't, my precious. Lead on, you wretch.
If we haven't caught jail fever already!
I'm getting you there as quick as I can.
Might as well enjoy
the fun while you're...
Ooh! Here! Here's
something to make you laugh.
- I don't know what he's done, but I'll bet he's...
- Body snatching.
Here. This way, ladies. This way.
Make way, there. Witnesses.
Witnesses. Make way.
- Out of the way!
- Follow me, ladies.
Oh. Oh, no. We're too late.
We'll have to wait
till the prisoners go by
Which one's your treason, miss?
Ooh. Good-looking young fellow.
Shame innit what he'll look like soon!
Hold your tongue!
- What will they do to him?
- No, ladybird, no.
What will they do to
him if he's found guilty?
Oh... Well, seeing as how it's treason,
he'll be drawn on a
hurdle and half-hanged.
Then he'll be taken down and
sliced before his own face.
His insides will be taken out
and burnt while he looks on
His head will be chopped off and he'll be
cut up into quarters. That's the sentence.
It won't happen, precious. It
won't. We know he's innocent.
MISS PROSS: Oh, for goodness'
sake, get us out of this place.
- Allow me.
- Oh, Mr... Carton.
The same. A new ache here, of course,
but in all other respects, the same.
Follow me closely.
I'm looking after these ladies, sir.
Heaven help them.
That is what we call the Tyburn Mail.
A vehicle in which, my friends assure me, I
shall one day have the pleasure of travelling.
It's a false assumption.
I live by crime in what is not only
the easiest but quite the safest way.
This is where you'll go in.
Mr Lorry will join you once he and
Stryver have completed their business.
Mr Carton,
are you acquainted with our case?
I am part of your case.
Where the great Stryver goes,
there follows his jackal.
I did not know.
Mr Carton!
Please,
you will do your best for Mr Darnay?
After such a request, I shall be
doubly industrious on his behalf.
Had you any motive, Mr Barsad,
apart from your sense of
duty to your adopted country?
Had you any motive for
denouncing the prisoner?
No, sir. None at all.
And you were not actuated
by any thought of gain?
Certainly not I did only
what I thought was right
If I'm offered any reward,
I shall decline to take it.
Mr Barsad,
what first caused you to suspect
the prisoner of being a spy?
The way he was talking in the mail.
You are sufficiently
experienced in the ways of spies
to detect one from his conversation?
Perhaps I am a little
sharper than most people.
No doubt.
So it was on account of his
conversation that you decided to get out
- and follow him when he alighted?
- It was.
As a result of which you
saw him handed certain papers
by a certain mysterious stranger?
- I did.
- You had never seen these papers before?
How could I?
These papers had never previously
been in your own possession?
I don't know what you're talking about.
I am suggesting you acquired these
papers for yourself some time previously,
and, in the darkness of the coach,
- you transferred them to the person...
- It's a lie.
.. transferred them to the person of
the man who now stands there in the dock,
falsely accused to satisfy
your own greed for enrichment.
It's a lie, I say. A foul lie.
Those papers were given to him in the
dockyard, and I wasn't the only one that saw it.
I've said I've no wish for any reward
Miss Manette, we have
heard some evidence
as to your conversation with
the prisoner in the Dover Mail.
Is there anything of
which we have not heard?
It is impossible, sir,
to recall every word.
Impossible... or inconvenient? I
will endeavour to refresh your memory!
Did you and the prisoner
hold a discussion
about the recent war with America?
- Yes, we did.
- Speak up please!
Now that I have recalled
your mind to that event,
perhaps you can tell us what was
said about the war with America.
The gentleman tried to explain to me...
- Do you mean the prisoner?
- Yes, my lord.
Then say "the prisoner".
The... the prisoner
tried to explain to me
how that quarrel had arisen.
He said...
Yes?
He said that it was a wrong and
foolish one on the part of England.
Silence!
Anything else?
He added...
There was no harm in the way he said it.
It was said laughingly to beguile the time.
What did he add?
He added that he thought
perhaps George Washington
might make as great a name
in history as George lll.
Silence!
Thank you Miss Manette
Officer, look to that young lady.
Take her outside See
she gets some fresh air
Have we your permission
to continue, Mr Carton?
Yes, my lord.
That, Mr Cly, was the only time you
ever saw the prisoner? In the dockyard?
Until today. I see the other party
hand him the papers, secret, like,
and I says to myself, "Hello," I says.
Never mind what you said to yourself.
Would it surprise you to learn that the
prisoner has never
been near the dockyard
- in Dover?
- What a wicked lie.
Look at him now and tell me if you're
quite sure he was the man you saw.
That's him sir
You're absolutely certain
that it was the prisoner?
I am, sir.
Have you ever seen anyone sufficiently
like the prisoner for
you to be mistaken?
Not as I recall, sir.
Look well upon this gentleman,
my learned friend here.
Stand up, Sydney. Let
the witness see you.
That's right.
Remove your wig.
Now look well upon the prisoner.
How say you? Do you detect some
resemblance between these gentlemen?
There is a likeness.
When I now reveal that my learned friend
was in fact in Dover
on the day in question
would you not agree that
you might have seen him there
and mistaken him for the prisoner?
Am I to take it, Mr Stryver,
that we shall next have to
try Mr Carton for treason?
I trust not, my lord.
I seek only to illustrate my contention
that the prisoner is no more
memorable by virtue of his appearance
than many others of
his age Thank you Sydney
Whatever the verdict,
I must congratulate
you, mt Stryver, on
a most able defence.
I have done my best, sir, and my best
is as good as another man's, I believe.
Is nobody going to say "much better"?
It was on the tip of my tongue.
Now, Sydney. Most impudent fellow, sir,
to have for one's junior. Oh, pardon me.
How is Miss Manette?
The better for being out of that court.
The prisoner is distressed to have
caused you so much... agitation.
Did you see Mr Darnay?
He asked me to tell you that
with his fervent apologies.
Will you be seeing him again?
I would so much like
to ask his forgiveness.
For neglecting to commit perjury?
It's a grave failing in a witness.
Let us hope you'll be able to
express your own regrets to him.
If I might...
What does Mr Darnay expect?
The worst.
It's the wisest thing to expect,
and the likeliest.
The jury is coming back.
- Have you reached a verdict?
- We have.
How say you? Do you find the
prisoner guilty or not guilty?
Not guilty
Silence! The prisoner is discharged.
I am only just beginning to feel
that I belong to this world again.
It must be an immense
satisfaction to you.
As to me, the greatest desire I have...
is to forget that I belong to it.
It has no good in it for
me, except wine like this,
nor I for it.
So we're not much alike
in that particular.
Indeed, I begin to think we're not much
alike in any particular, you and I.
I am glad the jury thought otherwise.
I believe it was our likeness which
turned the scale against Barsad.
Barsad's a dangerous fellow. You
must be on your guard against him.
Ha. I don't think he'll
dare denounce me again.
Nor anyone else.
You've deprived him
of a very good living.
Then perhaps my ordeal was worthwhile.
Don't take this too lightly, my friend.
One acquittal usually means
ruin for a common informer.
Mr Barsad will have to take
his revenge quickly, then.
I leave in a few days for France.
No doubt you'll soon be back.
Does this country not hold a certain
irresistible attraction for you?
Why don't you call a health, Mr Darnay?
Why don't you give your toast?
What toast?
It's on the tip of your tongue.
It ought to be.
It must be.
I'll swear it's there.
Miss Manette, then.
Miss Manette, then.
That's a fair young lady to hand
to her coach in the dark, Mr Darnay.
A fair young lady to be
pitied by and wept for by.
Is it worth being tried for one's life
to be the object of so much
sympathy and compassion, Mr Darnay?
You puzzle me, Mr Carton.
I probably owe my life to you,
yet it now becomes apparent that
you have no liking at all for me.
There is nothing in your dislike of
me to prevent my calling the reckoning?
No. Do you call the whole reckoning?
- Certainly.
- Then, drawer, bring me another bottle.
Good night.
Why should I like a man
because he resembles me?
There's nothing in me to like.
I am a disappointed drudge, sir.
I care for no man on Earth.
And no man on earth cares for me.
Aaargh!
What has gone wrong?
Pardon, Monsieur le
Marquis. It's a child.
Why is he making that abominable noise?
Is it his child?
It is a pity. Yes.
He's dead! He's dead!
You killed him!
It is extraordinary that you people
cannot take better care of your children.
Take that.
He's dead!
They've killed him.
I know. I saw it all.
Be brave, my Gaspard.
Who threw that?
You dogs! I would ride
over all of you willingly
and exterminate you from the Earth.
- Drive on! -
Giddy-up there!
Ah.
There he is,
fresh from his English jail.
Charles.
My cousin Charles, Monsieur Foulon.
- My respects.
- Your cousin has been telling me about you.
A young man with strange views, eh?
I think perhaps he has seen
fit to moderate those views
after his recent taste
of the system in England.
To me it's preposterous that
this is a farming estate,
yet there isn't one single
family in the village out there
which has even bread to eat tonight.
Let them eat grass.
That's what I always
say. Let them eat grass.
Judging from your recent conversation,
you do not appear to have learnt
very much from your little lesson.
You speak as if my misadventure
in England was not entirely chance.
I warned you, my friend.
I will not tolerate the spreading
of disaffection among my tenants.
You needn't concern yourself
any more on that account.
I am here only to collect
my few small belongings.
After which you'll see no more of me
You will forgive my idle curiosity, but
how do you graciously intend to live?
I must do what the noblest of my
countrymen may have to do one day.
- Work.
- In England for instance?
Yes, in England.
With a name as hated as ours,
France holds nothing for me.
In England I have another name.
You may as well know now,
my visit there was for the express
purpose of planning my future life.
We must not keep you from her
a moment longer than necessary.
Goodbye, sir.
Goodbye.
Drive him fast...
to his tomb.
- He's here again.
- Who is?
A man has been frightening
Prossie for the past few weeks.
He appears to haunt this street.
A drunken man.
He pretends to be drunk, but how
do we know he really is drunk?
Your father's a Frenchy, and these
Frenchies with all their spies...
Let me look.
Ah.
I wanted to... Doctor, come quick.
I'll come at once, Mr Miller.
You run on back. Have
some water on the boil.
I'll walk with him, keep an eye on him,
just in case.
- That drunkard's gone.
- Don't wait up for me. Good night, my darling.
Good night, Miss Pross.
Doctor.
I've been awaiting an opportunity to ask
if I might come and see you in private.
You're ill, Charles?
No, sir. It's not my health.
Ah.
Then, if it's what I think, come
before I take surgery in the morning.
Thank you, sir. I appreciate
your understanding.
If you ask me, he's
hiding behind that tree.
There! He moved, I knew it.
He's very intoxicated.
Why should a drunken man trouble to
hide himself from the doctor, miss?
- Stop. It may be a trap.
- I can't, Prossie. He's hurt.
It's Mr Carton.
That'll cause more worry for us.
He's hurt his head.
Lucie.
Beautiful Lucie.
Mr Carton, can you walk?
Just a little way.
Help me, Prossie.
Oh!
Leave him be, I say. Disreputable sot.
What's he up to here?
That's what I want to know.
Frightening us out of our wits and
falling about all over our street.
This way, Mr Carton.
Carefully.
Down here.
My humble pardon. I never intended
to venture into this house.
Will you be so good as
to brew a pot of coffee?
I'll not leave you
with a man in his state.
Nonsense.
I wouldn't touch a hair of her head.
Of course not.
It's a very bad bruise. I must bathe it.
And then some ointment.
- I'm not worthy of your kindness.
- Oh, it's not much to do.
Mr Carton, do you reside hereabouts?
Miss Pross believes that
she has frequently seen you.
I come here every night.
Every night?
Here?
To be near you.
I get drunk.
Must be near you.
My pardon.
I alarm you.
There's... no necessity to be alarmed.
I love you.
No harm to it.
Never ask any return.
I did not know.
Why should you?
It's ridiculous.
A beautiful girl,
sweet and beautiful.
No-good, drunken waster.
Do you know what?
Head back.
If you said, "Return
that man's love... "
Ridiculous.
But if you said that,
I wouldn't let you.
No, I wouldn't let you.
I'd only drag you down
into... misery and disgrace.
Why am I telling you all this?
I never meant to speak of it.
Now that I know, is there not
some way in which I may help you?
None. Hopeless.
When I first saw you,
I... I thought...
Just... just for a moment,
I thought...
I knew then.
I tried not to think of it again.
It's hopeless. Too late to
start again and strive again.
But you can! You're young
Too late. A dream, all
a dream, ends in nothing.
But a beautiful dream.
You inspire it.
And have I no power for good with you?
No power at all?
Keep my secret.
Never share it.
Never forget it.
You promise?
That I promise.
Willingly.
That's all I need.
All I ask. A small matter.
When I die, one good thing to remember.
My name, my faults, my miseries,
all carried in your heart.
Never shall I forget.
Anything ever I could do for you,
keep in your mind,
know that I would do it.
Anything
Enough useless talk.
I only distress you.
Not worthy of such feeling.
What's this?!
I had coffee to sober you!
Who wants to be sober?
Oh!
Believe me, Doctor. It's the last thing
I want, ever to part you from her again.
What I ask, as a fellow exile,
is to be allowed to share
this new life with you,
under the same roof,
if Lucie will accept me.
Lucie, of course, is
the whole world to me.
Without her, my return to
life would mean nothing.
But if you are essential
to her happiness,
and I truly believe you are, then
I must give her to you, Charles.
Dr Manette, I swear you shall never
have cause to regret your faith in me.
You're no doubt eager to speak to her.
That, I think, is a patient.
Doctor, before I see her, there
is... one thing I should tell you.
My name as an exile is not my true name.
Oh, stop it. I take you as
I've come to know you, Charles.
Tell me nothing more.
- But, sir...
- No don't speak
You've been told what
happened to me 20 years ago.
If my future son-in-law
is a past aristocrat,
I'd prefer not to know it.
Mr Carton.
- Mr Carton!
- Miss Manette, I am here for a moment only,
because I am not a man who
takes much time over apologies.
I owe so many that it's easier to
dispense with the whole business.
Then, pray, dispense with it.
I would,
but for one thing.
I know from, er... my hazy recollection
that my behaviour last
night was unpardonable.
That doesn't greatly
concern me. It often is.
But you made me a certain promise
which I recall as clearly as if
I'd never taken a glass of wine.
It shall be respected.
Thank you.
That was my chief
concern in coming here,
lest you were simply
humouring a drunken fool.
Is it not often said that the
truth emerges at such time?
And truly said.
Miss Manette, in all my drunken babbling
there was not one false word.
That's what I wanted you to know.
Rest assured that I shall
never refer to this again.
Charles!
Come in, Darnay. I was
about to take my leave.
Goodbye, Miss Manette.
Goodbye, Mr Carton.
You're not your usual loving
self today, Miss Pross.
No invitations to coffee?
Oh, wait.
What is it now?
Something I should have
remembered to tell Mr Darnay.
My profoundest apologies.
Mr Carton! You shall be
the first to hear our news.
- No, Charles.
- We are to be married.
I congratulate you most sincerely.
I am sure that nobody
could make you happier.
For my part, I have a piece of news
which will be your first wedding present.
I came back simply to
tell you that you have
nothing further to fear
from our friend Barsad.
He is no longer with us.
No longer with us?
He's dead.
He took a false step into the river.
I passed his funeral on my way here.
That's a relief, indeed.
Though he could have chosen
a better moment to inform us.
- Are you sure this is the right one?
- It's Barsad's grave.
- I saw him buried this very day.
- You said he was a little 'un.
He must have fattened himself
up since he was at the Bailey.
He didn't die of hunger.
Come on. Let's have him.
All quiet.
And how much is that worth
to them medical doctors?
Eh?
The slippery viper,
swindling honest tradesmen!
The first one I've met that
didn't turn up at his own funeral.
It's on account of his dirty trade.
Lost his reputation when they acquitted
the Frenchy. He has to make a new start.
Best put him back.
Just like that Barsad! Can't
even be trusted to croak.
Good day, Madame.
A glass of old cognac.
They have taken Gaspard.
Poor Gaspard.
You are acquainted with Gaspard?
I know him round here as the
assassin of the Marquis St Evremonde.
This is my husband.
Good day, Jacques.
You deceive yourself, Monsieur.
My name is Ernest Defarge.
Quite so.
But isn't it the custom for
those of... certain sympathies
to address one another as Jacques?
You may address me as Jacques.
Who sent you here to spy on us?
Madam, whatever gave you
such a preposterous idea?
Only a spy of the aristocrats
would dare to speak to us like that.
Wouldn't a far-sighted person do so?
One who sees which way
the wind is blowing?
What wind, Monsieur?
You know very well, Jacques.
The first puff of that wind swept
the Marquis St Evremonde to his grave.
And, speaking of Evremonde,
I think you'll be interested to have
news of his cousin, the new Marquis.
- He's settled in England. We know that.
- Yes, and getting married.
Did you know that, too?
You should have, for you're
acquainted with his bride-to-be.
To whom do you refer?
Why, to Miss Manette.
Didn't she call here
once to claim her father?
The poor oppressed doctor.
You see, I make it my business
to find out these things.
I could be a very useful comrade,
Jacques.
Never before have I unpacked for a man.
Cheer up. Honeymoons go all too quickly.
- We shall soon have them back.
- Have the guests all gone?
Mr Carton is still here.
He found it necessary
to take a little... nap.
I'm sure he did.
Why our ladybird ever wanted to
invite that tosspot to her wedding,
I shall never understand.
Doctor!
Mr Carton!
Oh, Doctor, what is it?
Mr Carton! Mr Carton!
Oh! Oh, come quickly. The doctor...
To me, it seems almost a symbol.
I wonder how they're
having it out there.
In France, you mean?
There's a storm coming
to them, surely enough.
Though whether by the hand of nature.
Such a storm it's likely to be.
But if ever the rulers
of a nation invite...
Oh! Good gracious. I've been asleep.
And look at the hour! What sort
of a host you must think me.
You've not slept alone, doctor.
It's this excellent wine of yours.
Half-undressed! I'm truly most ashamed.
I... I'm afraid we all
partook a little too freely.
Not you, Mr Lorry?
Worse than either of us, Doctor.
He lay back in that chair and snored
loud enough to shame the thunder.
I... I don't seem to remember.
Nor I. Shocking state of affairs.
Leaving the heavens to awake us.
This is a storm indeed.
Enough to bring the
dead out of their graves.
Jacques fifteen!
Keep away!
Give me something to kill with!
Hey!
Grab one of these!
You take it!
The armoury. That's
the place for muskets.
The armoury!
Open up!
Stand away. We shall fire!
Fire, I said, Number Two Company!
Fire!
The Gardes Franais have come over!
Hooray!
Yes!
You're the one
who shot the people down.
Stand aside!
Show me the North Tower, quick!
What...?
What is the meaning of 105 North Tower?
What is the meaning?
- Is it a captive or a place of captivity?
- I don't know.
Does it mean you want to die?
- Kill him!
- It is a cell number.
Show it me!
- Follow... follow me.
- Come on!
You found it!
In 105 North Tower.
We've got old Foulon.
- Foulon!
- Foulon?
He who told us to eat grass.
He's eating grass now in the
very place we last met him.
Hey, citizens, let's get down there!
Mr Lorry, can you not wait a little
longer before you leave for France?
Impossible, miss.
If you could see the chaos
in our Paris office...
Now it's spread to the countryside,
there'll be danger beyond Calais.
They'll be too busy
with their own affairs
to interfere with an
old fellow like me.
I'm taking Jerry
Cruncher as a bodyguard.
- I wish we could change your mind.
- I've delayed too long already.
Even as I'm talking to you,
Paris may be afire or sacked,
our customers' property
burnt or plundered.
- You cannot save it.
- Maybe not, Charles.
But in a tidy business
way, I can see that
all changes of assets
are truly recorded.
- If there's anything of yours I may look to...
- There is nothing of mine in France.
But tell me only what the charge is!
Acting for an emigrant.
What I have done for my new
master was in your interests!
But let me only write to him.
Father!
Not my daughter! Hold me responsible,
if you must, but what has she done?
- What have any of these others done?
- Father, don't let them take me.
Don't blame her. What have they done?
- What have any of these others done?
- You ate whilst we starved!
Hello, Carton.
I'm afraid Lucie's
out. She and the doctor.
I made sure they would be out
before I came here to give you this.
I was visiting the bank this morning
and saw it awaiting you in the rack.
How did you know it was for me?
- Where did you get that?
- You were careless enough to have in posesion.
How did you come by it?
I stole it. I went to your room
the night Dr Manette was taken sick.
Curiosity impelled me to
trace its noble origin,
and when I saw the
same name on that letter
and identified you
as a French nobleman,
I was prepared to discover some episode
in your past, some
covered-up disgrace,
which would explain your
rebirth as Charles Darnay.
Knowing your dislike of me, I'm sure
you would have found it most welcome.
I was truly thinking more of Lucie.
Then allow me to reassure you.
I disclaimed my title,
and with it my estate,
solely because the name on this letter
is one of the most
hated names in France.
Before asking Lucie to marry me,
I decided to renounce it completely,
wash my hands of it.
How simple it all sounds.
Far simpler than I'd imagined.
Goodbye to France, farewell
to all responsibility.
Would you like me to burn that? I see
now that you have no cause to read it.
It comes from Gabelle,
the man I left in charge of my estate.
I sent him instructions long ago
to give the people their freedom.
Devil take it!
You were right to chide me.
Gabelle and his daughter
have been imprisoned,
taken to Paris and lodged in La Force.
He fears for their lives.
Oh! I have been selfish.
I should have gone back to
France when my cousin died,
worked out and supervised
all I meant to do.
Carton...
I'd be obliged if you'd say
nothing to Lucie of this.
She would only share my
own concern about it, and...
she's not in a condition
at this time to be worried.
We...
We haven't voiced it abroad yet.
Our child is due in the spring.
I see.
In view of that,
I hope you won't contemplate
doing anything foolish.
You must leave me to
make my own decision.
Lucie.
- Sydney, forgive me for disturbing your work.
- My work.
But you did once say if there
was anything you could do for me.
And meant it.
Charles has gone to France.
You'll see why. Some servants are
in danger. Sydney, I must go to him.
I need a permit. I would have gone to Mr
Lorry, but unfortunately
he's in Paris already.
It's most unwise to go to
France at a time like this.
Sydney, I must.
You may not know, but Charles's
family were aristocrats.
Yes, I knew.
You knew?
Then you will understand.
- But you can't...
- Sydney, I must.
I know he's in danger. I must go to him.
- Has he arrived in Paris by himself?
- He did.
- Bring him to me.
- Yes, sir.
- Is Citizen Defarge here?
- Yes.
Another from the list supplied
by your excellent wife.
Charles Darnay, or
as he would prefer NO to be known, the Marquis St Evremonde.
Darnay? But I thought he was
lost to us, living in England.
Your age, Evremonde?
My name is Darnay.
Your age, Evremonde.
Twenty-seven.
- Married, Evremonde?
- Yes.
Where is your wife?
- In England.
- Without doubt.
You're consigned, Evremonde,
to the prison of La Force.
Just heaven! Under what
law? For what offence?
We have new laws, Evremonde,
and new offences, since you were here.
I invite you to observe that
I have come here voluntarily
in response to this written
appeal of a fellow countryman.
That's no interest of mine.
I surely have the right to be heard.
Emigrants have no rights, Evremonde.
There is a new decree
confiscating their property.
But I... I have no property.
And condemning to death all who return.
Take him away, Defarge.
Hello.
Monsieur Charles.
Marie!
It's good to see a friend.
Though I wish it were somewhere else.
Tell me, your father?
Ah, I'm too late.
Yesterday.
I asked to be tried with
him, but they wouldn't listen.
Thank God at least for that.
My cause is yours, Marie.
And it's a good cause.
We'll go out free together.
You do not know them, Monsieur Charles.
What did he ever do except be kind?
Oh, I loved him so.
- Some more wine?
- Why, yes.
Well, my wife!
- A pleasing day, eh?
- A beautiful day.
- Forty-seven heads. -
I've got good news for you.
Yes?
Come here.
- What?
- Come, you sit down.
The first name on your register,
here in Paris.
Evremonde?
I took him myself to La Force.
At last.
Evremonde.
Is he alone?
His wife is still in England.
He asked me to communicate
with her father. I refused.
You refused?
But why? That information is the
one certain way of bringing her here.
Dr Manette has surely suffered enough.
I'm not concerned with the
doctor. It's his daughter.
She's an Evremonde now.
But if she is to be punished for her
marriage, it will mean fresh anguish for him.
Anguish? You talk to me of anguish?
What is one daughter beside
a father, brother, sister?
All dead at the hands
of that accursed family.
She is not of their blood.
Been married for six months.
What if there's a child on the way?
An Evremonde.
Now, listen.
I've had this family a
long time on my register
for extermination to
the last of the line.
Isn't that so?
It is so.
Then tell wind and fire where to stop,
but don't tell me.
Alexander Manette?
- Yes.
- French, physician. Good.
Lucie Darnay, French.
This is my daughter.
Emily Pross.
- English.
- Yes, and proud of it.
Is this your first visit to France?
It is, and I hope my last.
Prossie! She's my companion.
Oh. Sooner yours than mine.
Where is the fourth passenger?
Hey!
Wake up!
Come on, wake up!
Patience, my good citizen, patience.
It's bad enough to rob
a man of his dreams.
Don't put your hands on
me. I am no aristocrat.
That's very true.
Sydney Carton, advocate.
English.
What brings you to France?
Your wines, my good citizen. What else?
Proceed.
They're back, master.
Do not do anything to
attract their attention.
Ain't there no way of
stopping 'em coming here?
It's a convenient spot
for an armoury, between
the two big prisons.
We dare not protest.
There's blood on them blades.
It's too horrible to watch.
Yeah, 'tis, innit?
I'm like you, master. Scares
me to the marrow, but I...
I have just got to keep on looking.
- Mr Lorry.
- What?
Was you expecting visitors?
No.
God help them, whoever they are.
It's Dr Manette.
I beg you, please. I beg you.
Please, I beg you.
Stop! Stop! Stop!
This is a prisoner from the Bastille.
It's true, friends.
Eighteen years in the Bastille.
Can these be the people I used to know?
Brutality only leads now to
more brutality, and worse.
They can't even wait for
prisoners to be tried.
Oh, don't heed it, my precious.
What would a banker know about it?
- What have I said?
- Charles Darnay is a prisoner in La Force.
Oh, may heaven forgive me.
We've searched everywhere he might
have been. We heard but an hour ago.
Dr Manette hopes to plead for him at
the tribunal. That's why we've come.
Then all will surely be well, judging
by the esteem they show for him.
If we're still in time.
Any help I gave my father, sir, was
only for the good of our neighbours.
He was a kind man. He did
his very best for them.
Your father was executed
as an enemy of the people.
Do you dare to impugn the
justice of this tribunal?
How say you?
Guilty. Death within
four-and-twenty hours.
Charles Evremonde,
called Darnay.
I knew Darnay was not his true name.
Charles Evremonde, called Darnay,
you are accused as an emigrant
whose life is forfeit to the Republic
under the decree that banishes
all emigrants on pain of death.
- Enemy of the Republic! Death!
What have you to say, emigrant?
I submit that I am not an emigrant.
I left this country more than a year ago
to live by my own industry in England,
sooner than live on the industry
of the overladen people of France.
Have you any proof of this?
Yes, I have.
The truth of my statement will
be confirmed by Dr Manette,
the good physician who sits there.
I am Alexander Manette,
prisoner for eighteen
years in the Bastille.
I was released nearly two years ago
and settled in England.
The accused was one of the
first friends I made there.
He has been faithful and devoted to
my daughter and myself in our exile.
And she was the witness in his favour
when he was tried by the
aristocratic English government
as the foe of that country and
friend of the United States.
You have heard enough.
We find the accused not guilty.
Stop!
Hold the accused.
You have a further charge?
The accused is a denounced
enemy of the Republic.
An aristocrat, one of
a family of tyrants.
Denounced secretly or openly?
Openly, Mr President.
By whom?
Alexander Manette,
the physician.
President, I indignantly protest.
The accused is the
husband of my daughter.
Who would believe I could
denounce my own son-in-law?
They will believe it when
this document is read.
What is this document?
President, I knew this Bastille
prisoner Alexander Manette
had been confined in a cell
known as 105 North Tower.
On the day the Bastille was
taken I examined that cell.
Hidden in it I found that document.
It bears the writing of Dr Manette,
which I know well.
I ask that it now be read.
I, Alexander Manette,
unfortunate physician,
native of Beauvais and
afterwards resident in Paris,
write this melancholy paper in
my doleful cell in the Bastille
during the last months of the
tenth year of my captivity.
I write from the fear that soon my
failing memory will erase from my mind
the events I wish to record,
lest the crimes of my
oppressors be forever buried.
There he goes.
Then we have him.
Are you sure I'm right?
If that ain't Barsad, I'll have my
head took off. What's he worth to us?
That remains to be seen.
Mr Barsad.
You remember me?
You mistake me for somebody else,
Monsieur. My name is Solomon. Jean Solomon.
I beg your pardon. That was tactless.
You would appear to have become
a person of some importance,
Mr Solomon.
May I ask what function you perform?
I have duties with regard to
the interrogation of prisoners.
I might have guessed it.
A spy. A secret informer.
Just like our old friend Barsad.
I've told you, that's not my name.
Who said it was?
There was a man of that
name who resembled me,
but he's been dead for eighteen months.
It is possible, Mr Solomon, that
I might have to ask you a favour.
Some slight recompense for my tact in
forgetting certain particulars of your past.
Don't you dare to
threaten me, Mr Carton.
You remember my name. I am flattered.
I stand in high regard here
amongst the people who count.
Excellent. That makes your
friendship all the more valuable.
Regard it as a game of cards.
The stake that I have resolved to
play for, in case the worst happens,
is a friend among the people who count.
And the friend I propose
to win, Mr Solomon,
is you.
- You'll have to hold a good hand, Mr Carton.
- I do.
Firstly, I am an Englishman
with no axe to grind in France,
and no cause to represent
myself under another name.
That's a very good card.
My second one.
Mr Solomon, now in the employ of
the Republican French government,
was formerly Mr Barsad,
in the employ of the aristocratic English
government, enemy of France and freedom.
That's an even better card.
Do you think I should
play the ace, Jerry?
You play it, Mr Carton.
Then fill up our friend's glass
and let the ace be played quietly.
Let's say Mr Barsad was at one time
in the employ of no lesser personage
than the late Marquis St Evremonde.
For the love of heaven, be quiet.
I think Mr Solomon
requires his cognac, Jerry.
What do you want from me?
Nothing at all... I hope.
That will be determined
by events now in progress.
I was brought to my living grave here in
the Bastille with only
one remaining hope,
that my servant Defarge may have been
successful in saving
the poor hapless girl,
who alone was left of the family
exterminated by that young nobleman.
He and his descendants,
to the last of their race,
do I now denounce for the crimes
I denounce them to heaven and to earth.
It is a tragic and
frightful testimony indeed.
But in the name of
justice, I must observe
that Dr Manette, either by
reason of his failing memory,
or because it was unknown to
him, makes no mention therein
of the name of this
nobleman he has denounced.
I will name him.
And no-one in the
world has better cause,
for I was that young girl who was the
last one left alive in that family.
I was rescued by Defarge and brought
up in the village by the fishermen.
That father driven to death
in the shafts was my father.
That mortally wounded boy in
the stables was my brother,
and that poor outraged
peasant girl was my sister.
Do you think I haven't cursed again and
again the name of that vile monster?
He was the cousin of the accused.
The Marquis St Evremonde.
I tell you once and for
all, it's impossible.
No prisoner ever yet
escaped from La Force.
Who spoke of an escape? Did you, Jerry?
Not me, Mr Carton. Let's hope there
won't be no need for an escape.
Amen.
So you see, Mr Solomon, we all
three sit here round this table,
hoping there'll be no
cause to trouble you.
- Is there a verdict in the Evremonde trial?
- Guilty.
Death in twenty-four hours.
It seems, Mr Solomon,
that I shall have to
ask you that favour.
What happened?
Oh, my precious!
Oh, Prossie!
My father is ill. The shock.
If he could only regain
the power of speech.
He must have some sleep, and
after he's slept, perhaps.
You must rest now.
Come.
Come.
It's happened again.
I feared it, and that vile woman
denounced the family of Evremonde.
- The family?
- You heard her yourself.
- I wasn't there at the end.
- You weren't there?
I heard the verdict from
the rabble in a wine shop.
- You're disgusting.
- Forget about me. I'm of no importance.
Did you say the whole
family was denounced?
To the last of the race.
You realise the danger
in which this puts Lucie?
Thank God her relationship
is by marriage.
Lucie is carrying a child, an Evremonde.
He's gone to sleep.
Almost at once.
Like a child.
It's the best thing we could wish.
Sydney, you're an
advocate. You must know.
There must be some form of
appeal, some chance of a reprieve.
I think perhaps there may be.
Do you? Do you really believe that?
We shall do all that's humanly possible.
You'd better get a little sleep yourself
now. He wouldn't want you to fret and worry.
No.
I think, perhaps, I may sleep...
...now.
Lucie.
God bless you.
How can you be so unkind, so heartless?
You know there isn't a chance
of stopping this execution.
- None.
- Why raise the poor child's hopes?
You could waste all night taking
me to task and we haven't time.
Attend to everything I have to say.
Ask me no questions and give me
the promise I shall exact from you.
I have a reason.
You understand now that
Lucie is in grave danger?
It depends upon you, and
you entirely, to save her.
Heaven grant that I
may, Carton. But how?
I shall tell you how.
I don't think I could
depend upon a better man.
Early tomorrow have a coach and horses
ready for a rapid
journey to the sea coast.
- They must be in starting trim at ten o'clock.
- It shall be done.
Tell Lucie tonight what you
know of the danger to her child.
Say that her father's in danger, too.
Press upon her the urgency of
leaving Paris at that hour. Tell...
Tell her it was her
husband's last arrangement.
Tell her that more depends
on all this than she dare
- believe or hope.
- I will.
See Lucie and her father into a
coach out here in the courtyard.
Take your place with them.
The moment I come to you,
take me in and drive away.
I may not be in a
condition to assist you.
Don't look at me like that.
For once in my life, I am
quite sober and deadly earnest.
Promise me, solemnly,
that nothing, nothing
will make you change my instruction.
I promise.
Here, then,
are my papers.
Take them and keep them with the rest.
You may need them tonight.
It's dangerous to be abroad
in Paris without papers.
You are not to question my
instructions. Remember your promise.
I shall remember it.
I hope to do my part faithfully.
I hope to do mine.
If only the poor darling can sleep.
That one's a lot of
good at a time like this.
Going out now to get drunk, I suppose.
No, Miss Pross, no.
Not this time.
The bravest and best of us all.
What do you want? Who's this?
He's a friend of Evremonde.
He's English.
Evremonde.
Poor old Evremonde.
He's got permission
to say goodbye to him.
Looks as if he has been
making a night of it...
...trying to keep his courage up.
Remember, a few minutes only.
Carton!
Of all people on earth, you
least expected to see me.
I cannot believe it to be
you. You're not a prisoner?
No, I'm accidentally possessed of
a power over one of your guards.
I come from your wife. You must do
everything I ask without question.
- Put on this coat.
- There is no escaping from this place.
It can't be done.
You'll only die with
me. No, no, it's madness.
It would be madness if I
asked you to escape, but do I?
If I ask you to pass that door,
tell me that I am mad and refuse me.
Carton. Dear Carton.
Whatever you have in mind, I implore
you not to add your death to mine.
You must trust me.
Take that pen.
Sit down and write as I dictate.
Hurry, my friend. Hurry.
Write exactly as I speak.
I knew
it was not in your nature
to forget the words
which passed between us
long ago.
I am thankful
that the time has come
when I may truly...
prove them.
What vapour is that?
Vapour?
I am conscious of nothing.
Write on.
That I do...
...is no subject...
...for regret...
...or grief.
Let there be no grief.
Ah, Thrse, I was just coming for you.
I saw you here. I have some business to
do before I go to the guillotine today.
But today is your day of days.
I shall be there for
the twenty-third head.
Oh, Evremonde. That will
bring the loudest shout.
What I have to say is not
for the ears of my husband.
Eh?
Defarge is a good enough
Republican, but he has weaknesses.
He's weak enough to relent
towards a certain
doctor and his daughter.
The wife of Evremonde.
She will be at home now
awaiting the moment of his death.
She will be mourning and grieving.
Yes, and it's an offence
to mourn for an aristocrat.
She will be in a state of mind to speak
against the justice of the Republic.
And I shall be there to hear.
Ha ha ha!
My cherished!
What a splendid woman this is.
Take this. Keep my usual place for me.
But you won't be late?
I shall be there when his turn comes.
You see.
Is your hazard so very great?
My hazard is whether you
remain true to your bargain.
I shall remain true to it.
To the very end.
Can any man keep to a bargain like that?
Have no fear. I shall
soon be out of harm's way.
And so, please God, will they.
My coach is still outside?
Yes, it was a minute ago.
Get some assistance.
Have him taken to it.
Hurry, man. Hurry.
Mr Carton...
Tell them to take him to Tellson's Bank.
He has friends there.
Hey you there!
Goodbye, old Sydney.
Hey you there.
The gentleman needs a
bit more help this time.
Out like a light.
I'm not surprised, the
load he had when he came in.
I wish I were rich enough
to stink like this one.
That must be our Mr Carton.
All right. Put him in this coach.
He can sober up on the journey.
Do you have your papers, and Jerry's?
Don't bother about us. We
can look after ourselves.
You and Jerry will follow in the
second coach. Send Miss Lucie out.
The time. It's so near.
You must go quickly.
Has Mr Carton returned?
Come. This minute.
Wait!
Mercy! Mercy!
- Stand aside!
- Never.
You can't get the better of me.
I'm a Briton.
I tell you, there's a terrible
woman in there with Prossie.
We can't leave her alone.
All right. Jerry will look after her.
Drive on!
Marchand.
Duvernois.
Garnot.
Gabelle.
Evremonde.
Four travellers to England.
Jarvis Lorry, banker, English.
That's me.
Alexander Manette.
Alexander Manette.
Alexander Manette.
Can it be the same?
Lucie Darnay. Of course, his daughter.
- The wife of Evremonde.
- That is so.
Evremonde has an assignation elsewhere.
Sydney Carton, advocate, English.
Ha, ha, ha. It's proving
difficult to waken our friend.
I recall this Englishman.
The one that even a revolution
couldn't keep from our wines
Let him dream on.
Ah, that's it. Ah!
Twenty, Marchand.
Twenty-one, Gabelle.
Twenty-two, Duvernois.
Twenty-three, Evremonde.
Twenty-four, Garnot.
Twenty-five Garnevech.
Monsieur Charles.
Monsieur Charles.
I thought you were Citizen Evremonde.
And who shall say I am not?
You?
Are you dying for him?
And another.
May I hold your hand, stranger?
Down with Evremonde!
Down with.
- Evremonde!
- Hush!
- What?
- He's going to pay the forfeit.
Keep your eyes on me
and mind nothing else.
I mind nothing while I'm with you.
I shall mind nothing when I go,
if they are quick.
They will be quick.
Thrse! Thrse Defarge!
Who has seen her? Thrse!
- She's never missed before.
- No. She won't miss this time.
Is the moment come?
It's come.
Suddenly I want to weep.
But I must hold my tears in check,
lest they think it is myself I weep for.
And who would weep for Sydney Carton?
A little time ago,
none in all the world.
But somebody will weep for me now.
And that knowledge
redeems a worthless life.
Worthless, but for this final moment
which makes it all worthwhile.
It is a far far better thing I do
than I have ever done.
It is a far far better rest I go to
than I have ever known.