A Tale of Two Cities Page #4

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

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