Diary of a Madman Page #2

It was there!

Perhaps it's just the light.

You only thought that...

Pierre, I'm not in the habit

of seeing things that do not exist.

Of course not, sir.

Why is this happening?

They've been dead so long.

I thought the past was behind me.

I put the cognac in the study, sir.

Thank you.

- Well?

- It's very strange.

He looks so pale.

Perhaps he's ill.

I'll see if he'll have dinner.

Sir, shall I tell Louise

to serve dinner?

Pierre, you had ample time to know

Mrs. Cordier well before she died.

Why, yes, sir.

You know that both she and the boy

meant a great deal to me.

Of course, sir.

Perhaps memories are suddenly

unlocked in a man's mind.

And he has dreams, nightmares.

I can only surmise

that such memories of my wife

and my son have returned.

Pierre, after I have gone

to sleep at night,

have I ever left my bedroom?

I'm not sure I understand, sir.

But I mean sleepwalked,

wandered in my sleep

because of a dream, a nightmare...

I don't know, sir.

Our room is in the other wing.

I must have.

There has to be

a logical explanation.

Tell Louise that I'll have

my dinner shortly.

Yes, sir.

My wife and son

have been dead for 12 years.

Why should these strange things

be happening,

now, only since the death

of Louis Girot?

- Good morning, Martin.

- Good morning, sir.

Would you bring me

the Costane brief, please?

- Yes, sir.

- Thank you.

- The Costane brief, sir.

- Thank you.

Did you have any reason

for leaving this here?

"Trial testimony of Louis Girot..."

The prisoner who...

who died the other day?

No, sir, I didn't take it

out of the file.

It was on my desk.

The office was locked.

Could you have put it there

before you left last night?

Yes.

Yes, that's possible.

Perhaps I was so upset

by what happened,

I didn't remember.

Yes, sir, it must have been

most unnerving.

Yes, that will be all, Martin.

Thank you.

Martin, will you find

the superintendent of the building?

I want you to ask him

if anyone of the cleaning people

could have taken the Girot testimony

from the file.

- Immediately, sir.

- Thank you.

Is someone here?

Magistrate Cordier.

Since Louis Girot is dead,

you have no further use

for his papers.

You deprived me of Girot's body,

his mind, his will.

Now I will have yours.

What's the matter with me?

Can I be as sick as Girot?

I was determined to take

my place on the bench that day,

despite the fears I had for my sanity.

But suddenly,

I felt I couldn't go on.

It was impossible far me

to concentrate.

I hadn't even heard

the arguments of the attorneys.

I knew I would have to call a recess

and leave for the day.

Very interesting, Magistrate.

I've been waiting patiently

to see what you would write.

You still think

I exist only in your mind.

Men's logic has always denied

my existence.

Since we have only begun

to know each other,

perhaps we should

come closer to the truth.

Rise, Simon Cordier.

Life and death are the only truths.

Everything else is illusion.

Yourself...

Your love for a useless bird

in a cage.

Death is a truth, Magistrate.

Prove it.

Prove it now!

Kiki, where are you?

How did you get out?

How does one explain

what one cannot see, Dr. Borman?

I hear this voice as though

someone is in the room with me.

But I am alone.

No one else is there.

And it was this voice

that urged you to kill your pet?

Well, how else can I explain it?

The photograph,

the writing in the dust,

the trial testimony on your desk,

the overturned inkwell,

and the voice...

Do you feel they are all related?

Somehow, yes, yes.

It is you who relate them,

for they are all

from your own imagination.

Science does not accept gnomes,

ghosts, demons, images of evil.

The things you've told me

about the tragic death

of your wife and son,

the abnormal loneliness you've

lived in for the past 12 years...

No, thank you.

A man can torture himself

just so long that it must end,

or the mind will break

under the strain.

I'm not sure what you mean.

- You want my help.

- Yes.

Will you do as I say?

Now, Doctor, if there's hope,

I'll do anything.

A doctor always has hope.

Hope of curing his patient,

hope that his bill will be paid.

Of course there's hope.

Then, I've come to the right man.

I've never had reason before

to go to an alienist.

However, I can't cure you.

- You have to cure yourself.

- Oh?

You have to change your life.

Get out of yourself.

Never submit to loneliness.

You said you used to sculpt?

In my younger days,

I was quite interested in art.

Fine. Become interested again.

Get away from this existence

you've been leading.

Associate with people

in the art world.

Find something to sculpt

and start sculpting.

Take a vacation from your work.

Doctor, I have

so many cases at court, I...

I can only give you

the prescription.

The medicine,

you must take yourself.

Well, thank you. Talking to you

has been most reassuring.

I can't tell you how relieved I am.

Then, I've served my purpose.

Let me hear from you again

in a few weeks.

- Good-bye.

- Good-bye, Doctor.

Red wine! Red wine!

How emotional, sensual, huh?

Nudes that like nudes!

You know what's the matter with you?

You're a woman!

And you know

what's the matter with you?

You're a Pig!

- I'm a pig? I'm a pig?

- You're a pig!

Who taught you

all you know about...?

Why don't you buy me, sir?

It will be an act of charity.

The artist could use the money.

You're the model, aren't you?

Would you believe that I know

nothing at all about ballet?

No. Well, then, either you have

the natural grace of a dancer

or the artist gave it to you.

You are an artist?

Well I... I like to sculpt.

Oh, sculptors are always covered

with clay and stone dust and...

and have no money.

Perhaps amateurs

are more fortunate.

Oh? Then, perhaps, you have

enough money for me to pose for you.

Do I not inspire you?

Yes, I think so.

Let me see.

A Greek goddess perhaps.

Oh, so serious.

Of course.

- Why not Heinrich Heine, then?

- Who?

Heine. He once wrote

a wonderful poem.

It was called "Woman".

Oh, I didn't think any man

knew women.

Each of the four stanzas

is about a different situation

going from gaiety to tragedy,

and yet, each of the stanzas

ends with the same words:

"And she laughed."

'Cause I think

you would always laugh.

And that is the way

you would like to sculpt me?

As a girl who can laugh at life?

Yes.

Good. For your laughing woman,

I shall charge you

10 francs an hour to pose.

Agreed.

You're not going to haggle

over the price?

No, it's very reasonable.

Here's my address.

I'll expect you this evening at 8:00

so we can begin

the preliminary sketches.

My name is Odette Mallotte.

I shall be there.

- Good-bye, Odette.

- Good-bye.

Simon Cordier.

Magistrate...

Good afternoon.

- Oh, Odette.

- Jeanne.

How are you, Odette?

I've seen bigger crowds than this.

There are always

more customers at night.

Well, let's hope they show

more enthusiasm than these.

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