A Tale of Two Cities Page #4

he stole the collection box.

Where were you last night?

At home. Working.

Working, Mr. Barsad?

Just what is your profession?

- Gentleman.

- Retired, of course.

And on what do you live?

On my property.

Where is it?

Well, I... I haven't any just now.

Oh, then at present you're not living.

Silence in court.

Really, Mr. Stryver, I don't see that

these questions are at all relevant.

- Mr. Barsad, have you ever been kicked?

- Certainly not.

Come, come, Mr. Barsad.

Weren't you one time kicked down stairs?

Well, once I was kicked

at the top of the stairs...

...but I fell down the stairs

of my own will and volition.

Wasn't that kick the result of

your stealing a silver teapot?

I was maligned about a mustard pot,

but it turned out to be only plated.

Oh, I see. You were maligned.

Do you know a French marquis?

- No, sir.

- No?

A relative of the prisoner's?

- No, sir.

- No?

And now, Mr. Barsad,

I want to ask you the vital question.

The attorney general has told us

that his whole case rests...

...upon the identification of a certain man

whom you say is the prisoner.

A man whom you saw enter the cabin

on the Dover boat.

Now, I want you to be very, very careful.

After all, all we want is the truth.

Now, are you quite certain

that the man you saw was the prisoner?

- Yes, sir.

- Couldn't have made a mistake?

No, sir.

Couldn't have mistaken him for me,

for instance?

- Oh, no, sir.

- Or his lordship, perhaps?

Piffle.

No, sir.

Well then, could you have mistaken him

for my learned friend here?

Why...

Now you seem to think otherwise.

Will milord bid my learned friend

lay aside his wig for a minute?

I don't think it's necessary,

but if he doesn't mind...

...and won't catch cold in his head.

Now, Mr. Barsad...

...couldn't you have mistaken the prisoner

for Mr. Carton there?

No, I...

Well, sir, come to think of it,

as a matter of fact...

...it was not the prisoner at all, sir.

That's all, milord.

As far as I'm concerned,

it's quite sufficient.

Gentlemen... the jury will retire

and consider their verdict.

I'll never understand how

you got him to change his evidence.

I just have a way of getting

at the essence of the facts.

- The pith and marrow, as it were.

- Oh, really?

Oh, yes, quite so, quite so.

Oh, Mr. Carton,

if you'll excuse me.

Charles... Mr. Darnay

will be acquitted, won't he?

If the jury understands evidence, Charles...

Mr. Darnay will be acquitted.

Mr. Stryver's defense was brilliant.

Wonderful. If he does get off...

...it'll be entirely due

to Mr. Stryver, won't it?

Nothing to it. Mere professional claptrap.

Young sir, give credit

where credit is due.

Mr. Lorry, I would like Charles to know

we wish him well.

- Would you tell him for me?

- No, I better.

It wouldn't do for respectable businessmen,

especially bankers...

...to be seen talking to the prisoner.

- Might tell against the prisoner.

- Yes. Upstart.

Silence in court.

Gentlemen of the jury,

have you agreed upon your verdict?

- We have.

- What is your verdict?

Not guilty.

The prisoner at the bar,

the jury has found you not guilty.

Prisoner dismissed.

I'm so glad.

So very glad.

Charles. Charles, my boy.

- Glad to have got you off with honor.

- You saved my life.

Never any other outcome possible.

Barsad and Cly. Cly and Barsad.

I could have told from

the sound of their names...

...from the very run of the syllables,

that they were...

Well, anyway, it was

all very simple, really.

Well, Mr. Stryver,

shows you can't tell brains by appearance.

Barsad.

As between fellow artists,

why not try another country?

Yes, sir. Yes, Mr. Carton,

I think I should love to travel.

Perhaps France.

Or you might like to go even further,

say, China.

Never trust nobody.

- Goodbye.

- Goodbye, Miss Manette.

My boy, never for a moment

did I doubt your innocence.

So, Mr. Lorry, respectable men of business

may speak to Mr. Darnay in public...

...now he's acquitted.

- You mentioned that before.

We men of business must think of

the house we serve more than ourselves.

Yes, yes. Banking, of course,

imposes its own restrictions and silences.

And indeed, sir, I don't know

that it is any of your business.

- I have no business.

- And if you had, sir...

...perhaps you would attend to it.

- Lord, love you, no, I wouldn't.

Mr. Darnay,

you're a very fortunate young man.

I beg your pardon, sir.

Well, it's not long since you were well

advanced on your way to another world.

I'm... I'm very grateful to Mr. Stryver

and to you.

Would you...?

Would you care to dine with me?

No, I don't dine,

but I'll wine with you.

Well, Mr. Darnay...

...how does it feel to belong

to this terrestrial scheme again...

...to taste, to feel, to be alive?

It's very agreeable.

- I'm glad you find it so.

- Why, don't you?

I?

Matter of fact, Mr. Darnay,

I care for no man...

...and no man cares for me.

You seem to be rather bitter today.

I suppose you were up all night.

- All night.

- No sleep, I'll wager.

- Not a wink.

- Just drinking.

Very sad. Just drinking.

For no reason?

For no reason.

Well, pardon me, but...

But why do it?

You are smug, Mr. Darnay,

when you ask why people drink...

...but I'll tell you.

So that they can stand

their fellow men better.

After a few bottles

I might even like you.

You've been kind to me, and

I'll not reward you by taking offense.

There's a good fellow.

A toast then. Let's drink a toast. Drink...

...to the person

that's nearest your heart.

- To the person...?

- The one you're thinking of.

- But I don't know...

- Come now, man...

...it's on the tip of your tongue.

Very well. To Miss Manette.

Miss Manette.

There's a fair young lady to hand

to a coach in the dark.

There's a fair young lady to be pitied by

and wept for by.

Must be worth being tried for one's life...

...to be the object of such sympathy

and compassion.

Well, Miss Manette.

Oh, waiter, glass.

Tell me, Mr. Darnay,

do you think I particularly like you?

- I've not asked myself that question.

- Well, ask it now.

I thought you did,

but you're acting now as if you don't.

I begin to have a better opinion

of your understanding.

Waiter.

There is nothing to prevent

my settling for the dinner.

- Oh, nothing in the world.

- Let me have the record.

- You call the...? The whole dinner?

- I do.

In that case, waiter, another bottle.

- Thank you.

- Good night, sir.

Good night.

And don't let your sober face elate you.

You never know what it may come to.

Why treat the fellow like that?

Is it because he shows you

what you have fallen away from...

...what you might have been?

Change places with him.

Would you have been looked at

by those blue eyes as he was?

Come on, Carton, you're jealous.

Have it out in plain words.

You hate the fellow.

I've got to be getting home.

Christmas, you know.

Home? Where can you better find

the spirit of Christmas...

...than a good old English tavern?

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