All language subtitles for Monsieur.Verdoux.1947.720p.BluRay.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

Good evening.

As you see,
my real name is Henri Verdoux...

and for 30 years
I was an honest bank clerk,
until the Depression of 1930...

in which year
I found myself unemployed.

It was then I became
occupied in liquidating...

members of the opposite sex.

This I did as a strictly
business enterprise...

to support a home and family.

But let me assure you
that the career of a bluebeard...

is by no means profitable.

Only a person
with undaunted optimism...

would embark on such a venture.

Unfortunately, I did.

What follows is history.

Shh!

- Jean?
- What?

- There's the postman.
Might be a letter from your sister.
- Yes, it might.

Can't you put that book down
and see what it is?

No, I can't.

You should be ashamed,
talking that way to your sister.

I wish you wouldn't open
your large mouth. It's causing a draft.

- Do what you're told!
- Ah, shut up.

- It's no use, Phoebe.
He won't do a thing.
- Then he should be made to.

- Who's gonna make me?
- If your father was alive, he'd make you.

Keep your big feet to yourself!
Sprawling them all over the floor!

You should talk,
with those two submarines.

- Get up and do as you're told!
- Let your husband get up.
I'm reading.

Don't bother.
I'll do it, Carlotta.

There.
Now look what you've done!

See? If you'd answered the bell,
it wouldn't have happened.

All right. I'll answer it.

- Here, hold this.
- Phoebe, you could be more careful.

I didn't do it.
It was an accident!

- At least look where you're going.
- You both look where you're going!

I didn't do it.
Lena got in the way.

All right. Don't shriek.

What the —

You old fool!

Don't talk to me that way.
I'm not your wife.

I should say not.
One's enough in this family.

If you don't like this family,
you know what you can do.

Don't worry.
Someday I'll do it.

What's it all about, anyway?

From the Paris National Bank.

- I knew it.
- Now what?

- The bank's returned our letter.
- What letter?

The one we sent Thelma.
She's drawn out her money,
closed her account, and left no address.

- We ought to inform the police.
- Why?

It's not like Thelma to cut herself off
from her family this way.

Don't worry about Thelma.
She can take care of herself.

It doesn't look like it.
A woman of 50 flitting off to Paris...

and marrying a man
she's only known for two weeks.

You don't have to run
to the police about it.

We haven't heard from her
in three months!

So what?
She's still on her honeymoon.

"Honeymoon"!

Who'd ever spend three months
honeymooning with Thelma?

What I don't like is drawing
all her money out of the bank.

- That's not Thelma.
- He's got it all by now.

He'll have
a grim task prying it away from her.

Look what he's done already:
made her leave home...

give up her family,
sell her business...

and marry him,
all in two weeks.

He must certainly have
a way with the women.

I'd like to know his technique.

Ah, you're condemning the man,
and you haven't even met him.

That's just it. If he were honest,
he wouldn't avoid us.

Something terrible's happened
to Thelma. I know it!

Oh, you make me tired,
all of you.

Just because she hasn't written,
she's either been robbed or murdered.

"Murdered"?
Nobody said she was murdered.

- We hope.
- We ought to go
to the police right now!

You'd better wait a while.
You're all hysterical now.

I think Pierre's right.

Let's wait a day or two.

Then, if we don't hear from her,
we'll go to the police.

Hey, we have a picture of that
husband of hers. Where is it?

I've got it...

right here.

Funny-lookin' bird, isn't he?

Must be a pretty good salesman
to sell anything with a face like that.

I wonder how long he's going
to keep that incinerator burning.

It's been going like that
for three days.

I know. I haven't had a chance
to put my washing out.

Oh là là.

You'll be stepped upon
if you're not careful.

There.

- Good morning, monsieur.
- Good morning.

I have a registered letter
for Madame Thelma Varnay.

Ah, thank you.

Oh, no.
Madame will have to sign for it.

Oh, I see.
Just a moment.

Thelma. Thelma, darling.
A registered letter, my dear.

You must sign for it.

Don't bother to get out of the bathtub.
Just dry your hands.

Here. Here's a pencil.

There. That's it.

Be careful, now,
you don't catch cold.

There.

- Thank you, monsieur. Good morning.
- Good morning.

Long-distance, please.
Hello?

I want Balong and Company,
Paris Stock Exchange.

Reaumur 6572.

- Good morning, monsieur.
- Good morning.

From the Dupont
Employment Agency.

Ah, yes, yes, yes.
Come in, come in, come in.

- These are your references, huh?
- Oui, monsieur.

- You understand the work
is only for a day or so?
- Oui, monsieur.

- Mm-hmm. What is your name?
- Louise.

Then, Louise, you can start in
by cleaning out the drawers
and dusting everything.

Ah, but before you do...

you'd better take down the curtains
and pack them in there.

Leave everything on the sideboard.
I'll take an inventory of it later.

You go on with your work. I'll answer it.

Hello?
Balong and Company?

This is Monsieur Verdoux. Mm-hmm.

I want to buy at opening prices
tomorrow morning...

500 shares
of Continental Gas...

500 shares
of Consolidated Copper...

and 100 shares
of Central Carbine.

Mm-hmm.
The same 20-point margin. Yes.

I'm wiring the money. It'll be there
first thing in the morning.

Correct. Au revoir.

She no sooner married him
than she disappeared...

off the face of the earth.

Do you have any means
of identifying this man?

We had a snapshot of him...

but Lena threw it
in the fireplace by mistake.

- Too bad.
- But I'd know him if I ever saw him.

- So would I.
- I believe we have all the particulars.

If we get any information,
we will let you know.

Merci, monsieur.

- Good day, madame.
- Good day, monsieur.

- Monsieur.
- Monsieur.

Monsieur.

- What's on your mind?
- Funny. In the past three years...

12 women have disappeared
from these different cities.

In many circumstances, the history
of each case is similar to this one.

- In what way?
- All these women are middle-aged...

with a small income
or a little property.

From what I can see, nearly all
married the same type of man.

You mean he's the husband
of all these women?

It looks that way to me.

According to these dates,
he must've been married
to a half dozen at the same time.

That's it.
He's the proverbial sailor...

but in his case
it's a wife in every port.

- What's his racket?
- I don't know yet.

- Insurance?
- No, he's too smart for that.

But not one of these women has
shown up, and I doubt they ever will.

- Murdered 'em, huh?
- That's just it.

He's a bluebeard —

a mass killer operating
in cities all over the country.

Not so fast. Before you hit
the public with that idea...

you better get
a few more facts under your belt.

- Monsieur Varnay?
- At your service, monsieur.

Monsieur Nutal,
the real estate agent.

This is Madame Grosnay.
Monsieur Varnay.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

Madame would like
to look over your house...

if it's not too inconvenient.

By no means.
Won't you come in?

You'll pardon me.
I'm all disheveled.

I've been so busy, I haven't
had time to brush up or do a thing.

- Oh, what lovely roses!
- Do you like them? From my garden.

Mm, they're divine.

- Louise?
- Oui, monsieur?

Will you wrap up these roses
for Madame Grosnay?

You'll find tissue paper
in the left-hand kitchen drawer.

- Oui, monsieur.
- Oh!

Oh, no.
You want them for yourself.

Madame,
I want them appreciated.

I therefore give them to you.

This way, please.

This is the sitting room.

Solid oak doors and floors
throughout the house.

Mahogany wainscoting
in all the rooms.

- Architecturally, it's a perfect house.
- Thank you.

Here we have
rather a lovely view...

of the mountains
and the sea below.

Oh! Those beautiful hills.

Mm-hmm. That's the work
of the Supreme Architect.

I'm afraid we can't compete
with that.

Then there's the garden:
175 feet by 85...

with seven fruit trees —
three apples, two pears...

one plum and a mulberry —
and, of course, my rosebushes.

- Quite an atmosphere.
- Yes.

My wife put a great deal
of herself in this house.

We were supremely happy here.
I, uh — I think one feels that.

Yes, indeed.
And may I offer my condolences?

- I beg your pardon?
- The irreparable loss of your wife.

Ah, yes.
It was very sudden.

A heart attack
while visiting her family.

That's why I must give up this house.
I must get away from the memory.

You'll pardon me, I trust.

We should get it for nothing.

Call again. I'm very busy.

This way, please.

This is the dining room,
and to the left, the library.

Cozy, hmm?

Yes.

Uh, this way, please.

Upstairs.

It's a small house and requires
very little to keep up.

We never had a servant, but there's
a maid's room if you need one.

- I have a maid and a cook.
- You could put an extra bed
in the maid's room —

that is, if they're both females.

Or you could use
one of the rooms upstairs...

unless, of course,
you want it for your family.

- I have no family.
- Just you and your husband, huh?

My husband has been dead
for many years.

Indeed?

Eh, hmm.
This way, please.

Monsieur Varnay.

- Yes?
- Telephone for Monsieur Nutal,
from his office.

Will you excuse me?

Plaisir.

This was my wife's bedroom.

We — Uh, pardon me.

Ah, yes.
We called it our "Sans Souci."

She loved this room.
In fact, she spent most of her time here.

- Very sunny.
- Yes, we loved the sun.

- But some people don't like it
shining in the bedroom.
- Oh, I do.

- Mm-hmm. Scorpio.
- I beg your pardon?

Your astrological sign.

- No, Aries.
- Ah, yes. Of course.

Sky and sun. A dreamer.

It's in your eyes —
deep pools of desire...

that can never be
fulfilled or understood.

- Very interesting.
- You are. Very interesting.

You see, I'm also Aries.
I know all about us. We're old souls.

Strange that you should come
on this day.

- I have a feeling it's destiny.
- Indeed?

If I knew you better,
I could explain.

Please do.

- However, you never married again?
- No.

Singular.
A woman of your temperament.

Why?

Because companionship
is so essential to Aries people.

Oh, it's too late for that now.

What nonsense!
You're just on the threshold of life.

One never begins to live
until one is past, uh —

uh — uh — uh —

What difference does age make?

A great deal, to a woman.

I venture to say that you were never
as attractive as you are now.

- You're very kind.
- On the contrary. I'm very frank.

No doubt you were extremely
beautiful as a young girl...

but your youth could never
compete with your age now —

your — your ripeness...

your luxuriousness.

Besides, you have
more character now...

more-more experience,
more, uh —

more everything.

- You flatter me.
- Why not?

Why shouldn't I
respond to beauty...

as you did
to those flowers downstairs?

"What lovely roses,"
you said...

and impulsively drew them
near to your lips.

Lucky roses.

Ah, I only wish I had the courage
to act upon my impulses.

However, life is that way.
We can't —

Oh! You're divine.
You're lovely.

- Please!
- Words are so futile.
I feel I've known you all my life.

- Oh, I must.
- This is ridiculous!

No, this is beautiful, inevitable.
We can't help ourselves.

Your loveliness inspired it.
Blame your loveliness for it.

You are lovely.

- Don't be silly.
- Please, try to understand.

And don't embarrass me.
Oh, the silly conventions.

This is more
than a convention.

- I hate to be obvious. Really. I —
- Oh!

Oh, yes. There it goes.
It's a bee. Hold still. I'll get it.

Isn't that silly?

- Are you hurt?
- I must have slipped.

No doubt.

- I think we'd better go.
- I think we had.

Wouldn't you care to see
the other rooms?

Thank you. We've seen
enough already. That is, pardon me.

Unless of course Madame
would like to investigate further.

- No, thank you.
- Very well, then.

Whatever Madame Grosnay decides,
we'll let you know through our office.

Of course.
However, I'd like to send you...

a book on astrology —
that is, if you're interested.

- Please don't bother.
- No bother, if I know where
to get in touch with you.

- Through our office.
- As you wish.

Ah, your roses.
Don't forget your roses.

Oh. No, thank you.
I'd rather not.

Madame, I shall be deeply grieved
if you don't accept them.

Thank you.

- Au revoir, madame.
- Au revoir.

- 'Voir.
- 'Voir.

Flowers? Boutonniere?

Ah, Madame Yvonne.
So nice to see you.

- Flower, monsieur?
- Give me that one.

- Well, well. Monsieur Verdoux.
- How do you do, sir?

I haven't seen you in ages.
Tell me, what do you know?

I don't even suspect anything.

- Thank you.
- You have finished?

- By all means. Won't you sit down?
- Merci.

Monsieur Lavine, Monsieur Verdoux,
an old friend of mine.

- Monsieur.
- How do you do, sir?

- Verdoux was one
of our cashiers in the bank.
- Indeed?

- That was in the good old days.
- Not so long ago.

- About three years ago.
- Tell me, what are you doing now?

Oh, a little of everything.
Real estate, stock market.

Well, you must
have made a killing.

Yes.

- Market's low now, isn't it?
- Now's the time to buy,
when everybody's selling.

Uh, can I offer you
something?

No, merci.

- Merci.
- Then if you'll pardon me.
- Of course.

- Good day, gentlemen.
- Good day.

Oh, monsieur.
Don't forget this.

Ah!
Merci. Merci.

Poor old Verdoux.

Seems to be doing well.

You know,
he got a pretty raw deal.

What do you mean?

He was with us over 30 years.

Along came the depression,
and he was one of the first to go.

Yes, after 30 years.

Well, well, well, well.
There you are.

Let's see what we have for you.

Henri Verdoux, furniture dealer.

This is Balong and Company.
We've been trying
to get you for the past hour.

There's been a big drop in the market.
We need 50,000 francs.

- When do you need it?
- First thing in the morning,
as soon as the market opens.

Where can I get 50,000 francs
by tomorrow morning?

Well, if you don't,
you'll be wiped out.

I'll see what I can do.

Ah, dear, dear, dear, dear.

Ah, me, ah, me, ah, me.

Ah!

Ah, Lydia.
The city of Corbell.

Let's see. In Corbell,
the banks close at 4:00.

Mm-hmm. C, C, C.

Ah. "Corbell."

If I leave now, I can catch
that 2:15 and be there by 3:30.

Gives me a half an hour.

Banks close at 4:00.

Lydia!

I thought you were in Indochina.

I was, my dear. I was.

Don't "dear" me.

Three months you've been away,
and not a line from you.

- Didn't you get my letters?
- What letters?

I wrote you
practically every day.

All I got was a telegram
three months ago.

Running off
and leaving me here alone!

My dear, I have to travel.
That's my business. I'm an engineer.

Too bad I didn't know that
before I met you.

- Lydia.
- Well, what do you want?

- Nothing, my dear. Nothing.
- That's unusual.

I thought you might be
pleased to see me, that's all.

Is that all?

The only time I see you
is when you want something.

Lydia...

I refuse to quarrel with you.

It's too ugly.

Life can so easily degenerate
into something sordid and vulgar.

Let us try to keep it
beautiful and dignified.

We're not young anymore.

In the sunset of our lives...

we need
companionship, love...

tenderness.

Most of all,
we need each other.

Ah, Lydia.

We've had such beautiful...

inspiring moments together.

And we can have many more.

I'm getting too old
for that nonsense.

There you go. Age again.

I thought I'd cured you
of that complex.

I'm cured of you,
running off the way you did.

- Lydia —
- Sit down.

What were you doing
in Indochina?

Building bridges. As a matter
of fact, we ran into a lot of trouble.

The specifications
of the superstructure were all wrong...

and we had
to draw up new plans.

To climax everything, they canceled
our contract on account of the crisis.

- What crisis?
- The financial crisis.

What are you talking about?

Dear, the worst catastrophe
that's happened in years.

- Banks will collapse everywhere.
- It isn't in the newspapers.

Of course not. They're trying to keep it
quiet. We were tipped off in advance.

Bah! I don't believe it.

However, don't bother
your little head about such matters.

What do you mean,
a financial crisis?

Wait and see. Tomorrow
there'll be a run on every bank.

Fiddlesticks!
It's all nonsense.

Of course,
it's of no consequence to you...

but I happen to be
vitally interested, that's all.

- So am I.
- You?

You have nothing to worry about.

Don't be an idiot. Every penny
I have is in ready cash in the bank.

- What?
- You know that, you fool!

- What bank?
- The Mutual Trust, of course.

Good heavens,
that's the worst of all!

- Get it out immediately.
What time is it?
- Are you mad?

Woman, every bank in the country
will be closed tomorrow.

- But what'll I do with the money?
- Never mind now. We'll discuss it later.

But I don't want 70,000 francs
lying about the house.

How much? Never mind.
Don't talk. Hurry up. Quick. Ah.

I think it's a lot of lies.

Woman, you're losing time.
The banks close at 4:00.

Quick! Hurry!
Come on, my dear.

I must be out of my mind
to do a thing like this.

You wait and see.

Cashier said
it was all nonsense.

You wouldn't expect him
to say otherwise, would you?

I'd sooner believe him
than you.

Why couldn't I leave all this
in my safe deposit box? Why?

My dear, in a crisis like this,
a revolution might happen...

a new government
that would confiscate everything.

No, the best thing
is to have it all here...

where you can lay
your hands on it.

Where you can lay
your hands on it!

Lydia, you're very tired.

What you need
is a good night's rest.

I need my head examined,
listening to you.

I've never heard
of such a thing.

Emptying my whole safe deposit box
and bringing it here.

Burglars might break in.

Hah! What nonsense.

Good thing we haven't
any servants about the house.

It's perfectly safe tonight.

Should have been left
where it was.

Very well. If you're uneasy
about it, put it back.

You can do that
the first thing in the morning.

I certainly will.

Turn out those lights.

Yes, my dear.

- Did you lock the doors?
- Early this evening.

And latch our kitchen window?

Don't worry.
Everything's attended to.

Well, did you?

Yes, my dear.

- What a night.
- Yes, a full moon.

How beautiful
this pale, Endymion hour.

What are you talking about?

Endymion, my dear.

A beautiful youth
possessed by the moon.

Well, forget about him
and get to bed.

Yes, my dear.

"Our feet were soft
in flowers."

Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello?
Long distance, please.

Paris Stock Exchange.
Reaumur 6572.

Hello? Balong and Company?

This is Monsieur Verdoux.

I'm wiring 50,000 francs
this morning. Is that enough?

No, I won't be in Paris
for some time.

I have one or two matters
to clean up here first.

Mm-hmm. Very well.
I'll keep in touch with you.

Bye.

Daddy!

Daddy!

- Mama.
- What is it, Peter?

- Look!
- Henri!

- Many happy returns, Mona.
- "Happy returns"?

Surely you haven't forgotten.
This is our wedding anniversary.

- Ten years ago today, my dear.
- Good heavens. Of course.

You see? I have more sentiment
about these things than you have.

Henri.

Ten years.

Wonderful years!

Thank you, my dear.

- Did you bring her a present?
- Peter!

Well, women like those things.

However, I did bring her
a present...

and here it is.

Henri, this is wonderful.

That they will never
take away from us.

- What did you get, Mama?
- The deed to this beautiful
house and garden.

Peter? Peter?

Here's Jeannette. Run along now
and get ready for supper.

Mama, can't I dine
with you and Daddy?

Tonight, yes.

Ah...

what a relief to get away
from the jungle fight.

The jungle fight?

- You're tired, Henri.
- I suppose I am.

Ah, well. Two more years
of this business...

and with a little luck,
we'll be able to retire.

But if it means
losing your health...

I'd sooner go back to living
in one room again.

That you will never do again.

- But we were happy then.
- Aren't we now?

Of course, but —

But what?

In the past three years,
ever since you left the bank...

you've been
under a terrible strain.

Have I?

Henri, you worry me.

That's the least
of all things I wish to do.

It's your state of mind.

What's wrong with it?

You seem so desperate
about everything.

These are desperate days,
my dear.

Millions starving
and unemployed.

It's not an easy task for a man
of my age to make a living.

I know it.

It's terrifying.

However, when the world
looks grim and dark...

then I think of another world —

you and Peter...

all that I love on this earth.

There.

Can I help, Mama?

You may get the evening paper
and your father's slippers.

They're here. I got them
before Daddy came home.

Do I smell meat cooking?

Yes, Henri.

- You wanted company for dinner.
- Of course.

Why don't we eat meat, Daddy?

Because
we are vegetarians, my son.

- Are the Bottellos coming?
- Yes.

- Good.
- Who are the Bottellos, Daddy?

You know the Bottellos.

The gentleman
who owns the drug store.
He's my very good friend.

Oh, yes.

And the Turners called
to ask if you would officiate...

at the church bazaar
next Wednesday.

Sorry, my love. I'm leaving for Lyon
the first thing in the morning.

Oh, so soon?

Business is business, my dear.

Peter, where did you put
the paper?

- You're sitting on it, Daddy.
- Hmm?

Oh, so I am.

Give it to me, Henri,
and rest your eyes.

Thank you, my dear.
Just read the headlines. That's all.

"Depression Worldwide.

Unemployment Spreads
Throughout All Nations."

Enough.
It's too depressing.

Just think, Henri,
how fortunate we are.

You have a job.

Yes, I have a job.

If I lose one,
I can always find another.

Peter, don't pull the cat's tail.

You have a cruel streak in you.
I don't know where you get it.

I'm only playing with him.
He likes it.

He doesn't.
You play too rough.

Remember:
Violence begets violence.

That must be the Bottellos.

Peter, take Papa's shoes
to his room.

Ah, Martha, my dear!

Let me take your things.
And Maurice!

Delighted to see you.
Upon my word, to be sure.

- Henri.
- Go inside, go inside.

Thank you, thank you.
You're quite a stranger, Henri.

Yes.

- My dear Martha.
- How do you do?

- Maurice.
- Mona.

- How is your cold?
- I'm all over it now.

- Did you take those pills?
- Well, I —

You didn't, you see?
But you should.

They're analeptic.
Will help to restore your strength.

My dear Maurice,
you must know what a crank
she is about taking medicine.

Dinner is served, madame.

They won't hurt her.
I give them to Martha all the time.

- She's the guinea pig of the family.
- Ah, yes.

Tell me, Maurice,
how's business?

Oh, as usual. And yours?

Oh, very busy these days.
Very busy.

Martha, at my left, please.

Nevertheless, I hope you will be
with us a little longer this time.

No, Maurice.
Unfortunately, I'm leaving...

by the first train
tomorrow morning.

Oh, that's the best one yet!

If you like 'em rough,
I can go farther.

That's far enough, brother.
Oh, that's a lulu.

- I must tell that
to the captain when he comes.
- When does he get in?

- He's due at 6:00 on the Lyon Express.
- It's almost that now. We'd better blow.

What's your hurry?
Let's have another drink first.

Oh, what happened
to that maid?

Annette?
Pardon me a moment.

Are you deaf?
I've been shouting my lungs out!

- I didn't hear you, madame.
- You didn't want to hear!

Lamb chops! What happened
to the fish left over from lunch?

I threw it out, madame.
There wasn't much left.

Enough for your dinner.
Throwing food away in times like these!

I'm sorry, madame.
I can't eat fish.

Well, there are plenty who can,
so pack up and get out!

Lamb chops for dinner!
Next it'll be grilled steaks!

Not satisfied with lamb chops.
She wants grilled steaks!

- What's the trouble?
- Oh, these servants!

- They're a problem.
- This one ain't. She's out on her ear.

Now the captain's coming home,
and I haven't a servant.

Uh, look, Annabella,
we'd better blow.

What's your hurry? Besides,
you haven't told my fortune yet.

Well, we'll stay till he comes.

- All right. Now, cut 'em three times.
- Yeah.

How long's the captain ashore,
Annabella?

Just a week. Then he's off
for another six weeks.

Six weeks, huh? I can see
where that has its good points.

I haven't got
to that stage yet.

Look at that girl's luck.

No wonder she won a lottery.

- Do I win another?
- I wouldn't be at all surprised.

Wait a minute.

That's the ace of spades.
That ain't so lucky.

Listen, with your luck,
if you slipped on a banana peel...

with your neck out of joint,
the fall would straighten it.

It's the captain.

- Louis, my pigeon!
- Annabella.

- How come you're two days late?
- Sorry, my lamb.

Coming up the straits,
a sou'wester blew up
and landed us on a mud bank.

We had to wait for high tide
before we could get off again.

Oh, you look
so fresh and salty!

Do I, my darling?

Come. I want you to meet
some friends of mine.

Vicki, this is Captain Bonheur.
I forgot your married name.

Darmond.
Just call me Vicki.

- This is Joe Darmond, her husband.
- How do you do?

Well, we'll blow.

I beg your pardon.
I mean "beat it."

Oh, uh, pleased to meet you,
Captain, uh —

- Bonheur is the name.
- "Bonheur"?

Well, then, all I can say is
bonsoir.

- Pigeon.
- Who are those people?

Oh, just friends.
I met them at the races.

Be careful.
You're too accessible.

Remember: You can always
stoop and pick up nothing.

Oh, never mind them.
Tell me, have you been good?

What a question!

You haven't been fooling around
with native girls, I hope.

How could you think
of such a thing?

When you're away,
I think of all sorts of things.

There's the difference.
All I think of is you.

No kidding.

Every moment.

In the cabin, on the bridge,
even on the poop deck...

you're always in my mind.

Wondering what you're doing,
whom you are seeing.

- Oh, pigeon!
- And alone at night...

under a canopy
of tropical stars...

with the soft strains of a Viennese
waltz coming from the salon.

Music on a cargo ship?

Oh, yes.
We have a radio.

Oh, yes.

Now — Now you've
interrupted my thought.

- You were thinking of me, pigeon.
- Ah, yes, you.

I would think
of these adorable arms...

these little hands,
and this delightful little wisp.

Let me kiss you there.

Oh, I wish you didn't have
to go back to sea again.

So do I. I much prefer
to stay home and look after you.

- Then why don't you?
- You know why.
We've been through this before.

I can't stay home and do nothing.
It'd be different if I could manage
your business affairs.

Huh-uh. I can manage
my own business affairs.

- Trouble is, you don't trust me.
- I do trust you, but —

You don't. You don't.

That's what hurts.
That's what mars our happiness.

You trust everyone but me.

Strangers can come along
and sell you anything —

any phony proposition —
and you bite.

But darling, what do you know
about business?

Emphatically more
than you do, my dear.

Last time, you came barging in,
telling me all the banks
were going broke.

Getting me all horsed up
about bringing my money home.

Well, it's a good thing I didn't!

Very well.
We'll forget the matter.

- Now, don't be mad, pigeon.
- I'm not angry, my dear.

I'm merely trying to save you
from squandering your money...

on these ridiculous enterprises:
stocks that are worthless.

- They're not all worthless.
- All of them.

Well, I still have faith...

in the Pacific Ocean
Power Company.

Good heavens!
What's that?

I told you. It's a machine
that floats on waves.

When it rocks like this, it turns wheels
like that, and that makes electricity.

Hmm. And what does it make
when the sea is calm?

Don't be a pessimist.

That's what I mean. Wasting
your money on sheer nonsense!

Here's inflation.
Very soon money will be worthless.

- What have you done about it? Nothing.
- What do you want me to do?

Invest wisely.
Safely, at least.

Land, houses,
or better still, jewelry.

- A friend has some beautiful —
- That's funny.

- What's funny?
- Just what I did.

- What did you "did"?
- I bought jewelry. Diamonds.

- Where did you buy them?
- Now, don't get excited.

From Joe, Vicki's husband.
The people who just left here.

My dear! That's not
the way to buy jewelry!

Don't be silly. He's a fence.
He deals in hot stuff.

I got a real bargain.
Diamonds that big —

180 carats' worth —
for 20,000 francs.

- You couldn't buy glass at that price.
- Well, this gal did.

- And not glass either.
- How do you know?

- Are you out of your mind?
- Let me look at them.

Why, those dirty crooks!
If they double-crossed me, I'll —

I'll tell you whether you were
double-crossed or not.

Hmm.

Just as I thought.
Phony. Fake!

- What?
- Glass, you silly ass! Glass!

7:00. I must catch that 8:15.

Why? You just got here
an hour ago.

My dear, I'm the captain of a boat.
I can't stay away while it's in repairs.

- "Repairs"?
- Of course. It's up in dry dock.

And I'm to be left alone
without a servant?

- I can't help that.
- Why'd you come home
in the first place?

To save you from crooks!
Swindlers!

People who are trying
to rob you!

I'll put them in jail
is what I'll do.

Oh, no, you won't. You thought
you were buying stolen goods.

That's what you get
for being dishonest.

200,000 francs you've spent.

And what have you to show for it?
Nothing.

Not a thing of value
but this house.

And they'll take this away, with all
the legal complications you get into.

- Oh, no, they won't.
- Oh, yes, they will.

Oh, no, they won't.
I put it in your name.

That's the first sensible thing
you've done since I've known you.

A week ago, when they tried
to attach my bank account.

- Attach your what?
- Don't worry. They didn't get it.

I took my money out,
and I have it all safely hidden away.

- Here in the house?
- Why, of —

Well, it doesn't matter
where it is.

Nobody will ever find it.
Not even you.

There you go.
You're always suspicious.

No, I'm not.

It's just my little "defensive
mechanism," as you call it.

I'm just thinking, my dear.

I hate to leave you alone
in this house tonight.

- Then why don't you stay?
- I could leave early in the morning.

Why don't you? We could have fun.
We could go places and do things.

You're right.
Captain or no captain...

I'm not leaving you
alone tonight.

Pigeon!

Two ounces
of chloroform, please.

- How much?
- Seventy-five centimes.

Louis, this is Monsieur Challain.
This is my husband, Captain Bonheur.

How do you do? I am president
of the Salt Water Fuel Company.

- The what?
- Here's 5,000 francs on account.
I'll send you the rest tomorrow.

- Thank you, madame.
- What is this?

This is a personal matter,
my dear.

Something that
might interest you, monsieur.

It's a device for turning
saltwater into gasoline.

- Give me that money!
- How dare you, sir!

Don't you do that! Don't you —

Don't you ever dare
humiliate me again in public.

I merely tried to stop you
from making a fool of yourself.

I'm not so dumb. I won a lottery.
That's more than you can do.

Of all the ineffable nonsense —
turning seawater into gasoline.

Well, if it's a success,
we'll own the ocean, that's all.

Preposterous.

Oh, go to bed.
I want to get some sleep.

Very well, my dear.

- Who are you?
- I'm the maid, sir.

- What do you want?
- I thought maybe
I could sleep here tonight.

- But you were discharged.
- I know, sir, but I've nowhere to go.

- Who is it?
- It's the maid.

- What does she want?
- She wants to stay the night.

Please, madame.
I promise I'll leave in the morning.

Oh, all right.
Let her stay.

Merci, madame.

I can't imagine
what happened to that bedroom.

It looks like a cyclone hit it.
Was I mad at you last night?

No.

- Coffee?
- No, thank you.

I thought
you discharged the maid.

- I changed my mind.
- Why?

Oh, that's me.
I just haven't the heart.

Besides, I could never find
anyone else to work as cheap.

I must get back to that boat.

I'm not gonna see you
for another six weeks?

I'll try to get back
before she sails.

Good-bye, my dear.

Madame Grosnay,
Madame Grosnay.

"G."

Ah.

Ah, here we are.
"Madame Grosnay.

Passy 3211.

Hello?
Passy 3211, please.

Hello? Has Madame Grosnay
returned to town yet?

Oh, she has?
This is Benedict, the dressmaker.

Mm-hmm.
Oh, she's out now?

When will she return?

12:30? Thank you.

No, there's no message.

Madame Grosnay,
151 Avenue Victor Hugo.

Huh. 151. 151.

Madame Grosnay!
Captain Bonheur.

Who?

I say, I had the honneur
of meeting you in the south of France.

Don't you remember?
I'm Monsieur Varnay.
You came to look over my house.

Oh. Oh, yes.
I remember.

I wanted to send you
a book on astrology...

but unfortunately I couldn't
get hold of your address.

- Quite so.
- Quite so, quite so.

Of course, I realize on that occasion
I embarrassed you...

but if you'll only allow me
to apologize and explain —

Thank you,
but I don't think that incident...

requires any further explanation.

Good day, Monsieur Varnay.

- Good morning, monsieur.
- Good morning.

I want to order three dozen roses,
a corsage of orchids —
say, about a half dozen —

and send them to Madame Grosnay,
151 Avenue Victor Hugo.

Merci, monsieur.

- A card?
- Yes — five or six.

Oui, monsieur.
As many as you wish.

I want to repeat the order
twice a week for the next two weeks.

Oui, monsieur.

How much will that be?

Let me see.

That will be
five orders altogether.

2,500 francs, monsieur.

Oh là là.

Ah, well.
These things have to be done.

- Keep the change.
- Merci, monsieur.

- Cordial, Martha?
- Yes, thanks.

- Maurice?
- Thank you, Mona.

I hope we'll be seeing
more of you, Henri.

You never will. He must be
on the go every minute.

Unfortunately,
one gets caught up...

in this monoxide world
of speed and confusion.

Nevertheless, I look forward
to these quiet evenings together...

and your delightful and edifying
talks on theurgic matters.

The legerdemain
of the apothecary, as it were.

You should have been
a chemist, Henri.

Chemistry, my dear fellow...

is the material manifestation
of the metaphysical.

Ah. You're a mystic.

Do you remember some time ago
discussing a humane method...

of doing away
with dumb animals?

- Very distinctly.
- A lethal formula for veterinary work?

No pain. No convulsions.
Absolutely tasteless.

The creature drinks it
and in about an hour...

curls up into
a comfortable sleep and dies.

Ah, what a memory you have.

You were experimenting with
three elements, as I remember:

exnide, ethna bromide,
and something else.

Yes. That was very interesting,
pharmaceutically.

The ethna bromide
induces asphyxia...

but in order to delay
the erodent action of the exnide...

C2HC was added.

- C2HC, huh?
- A freezing agent.

The results are interesting.

When swallowed,
tissue changes are gradual.

In about an hour, the action
of the exnide takes place.

Its effect is like heart disease.

A systolic cramp, and... poof!

- What have you done about it?
- Nothing.

The State Medical Department
banned it.

- Why?
- Too dangerous for public use.

Strangely enough,
in the postmortem...

not a trace of the poison
can be found...

neither in the stomach
nor the blood.

Can you imagine such a weapon
in the hands of an archcriminal?

Think of the money he'd make
from the insurance companies.

That's quite an idea.

We'll incorporate
and go into business.

Insuring people and having them
die of heart failure?

We'd make millions.

I'm not sure,
but I think the poison...

might show up in a man.

- Why?
- Different metabolism.

We could easily find out.

- How?
- Simple.

You say it takes an hour
for the poison to work.

Then pick a derelict off the street,
poison him, then send him to a hotel.

In such cases, where a person
is found dead in a public place...

there's always an autopsy.

You'd know the result
without taking the slightest risk.

What a diabolical thought!

However, such experiments
we had better leave...

to the archcriminal,
don't you think?

Hmm. C2HC.

And now for the experiment.

- Quite a shower.
- Yes, it is.

Can I escort you anywhere?

Oh, thank you.

Allow me.

- So you're from Belgium?
- I came here after the war.

- A refugee, huh?
- Mm-hmm.

- Where do you live?
- Hotel Lausanne, off Montmartre.

- Hmm. Just a few doors away.
- Yes.

Good.

Why don't you take off your coat?
Allow me.

- What's that?
- A kitten.

Poor little thing.
I picked it up in the doorway.

- You like cats, huh?
- Not particularly.

But it was all wet and cold.

I don't suppose
you have a little milk.

On the contrary, I have.

You see, the prospects
are not as gloomy as you think.

- Do I sound that pessimistic?
- You do.

- But I don't think you are.
- Why?

To be out on a night like this —
you're an optimist.

An optimist?
I'm anything but that.

Up against it, huh?

Your faculties of observation
are remarkable.

Indeed.

Tell me, how long have you
been in this predicament?

Mm, quite a long time.

- How long?
- Three months.

- I don't believe you.
- Why?

An attractive, intelligent girl
like you would have done better.

Thanks.

Now tell me the truth.

You're just out of a hospital
or a jail. Which is it?

- What do you want to know for?
- Because I want to help you.

Philanthropist, huh?

Precisely.
And I ask nothing in return.

What is this,
the Salvation Army?

Very well. If that's the way you feel,
you're at liberty to go on your way.

Well, if you must know,
I'm just out of jail.

What were you in for?

What's the difference?
Larceny, they called it.

- Larceny?
- Petty larceny.
Pawning a rented typewriter.

Dear, dear.
Couldn't you do better than that?

- What did you get?
- Three months.

So this is your first day
out of jail?

Yes.

I see.

Poor dear. Ah, well.

Nothing is permanent
in this wicked world,
not even our troubles.

- Are you hungry?
- Frankly, yes.

Then while I attend
to the culinary operations...

you can help bring in
a few things from the kitchen.

Come.

If you will permit me,
I'll adopt that little kitten of yours.

- Please do.
- We'll just set the table for one.

- You'll find everything there.
- Aren't you having anything?

- No, merci.
- Then all we need
is a knife, fork, and a napkin.

- Mm-hmm.
- Here they are.

Then you will
take them in there...

make yourself at home,
and I shall be in later.

- Merci.
- Merci.

I don't know whether this will
appeal to your appetite or not:

scrambled eggs, toast,
and a little red wine.

- Wonderful.
- Then will you be seated?

Thank you.

Ah, you're tired,
so immediately after supper...

I shall take you to your hotel.

You're very kind. I don't understand
why you're doing all this for me.

Why not? Is a little kindness
such a rare thing?

I was beginning
to think it was.

- The toast. Pardon me.
- Can I help you?

No, no. Stay where you are.
I can manage.

- Voilà.
- You're funny.

- Am I? Why?
- I don't know.

However, you're hungry.
Please go ahead.

- What book is that you're reading?
- Schopenhauer.

- Do you like him?
- So-so.

Have you read
his treatise on suicide?

- Wouldn't interest me.
- Not if the end could be simple?

Say, for instance,
you went to sleep...

and without any thought of death,
there was a sudden stoppage.

Wouldn't you prefer it
to this drab existence?

- I wonder.
- It's the approach of death
that terrifies.

I suppose if the unborn
knew of the approach of life...

they'd be just as terrified.

Yet life is wonderful.

What's wonderful about it?

Everything. Spring morning,
a summer's night...

- music, art, love —
- "Love"?

- There is such a thing.
- How do you know?

I was in love once.

You mean you were
physically attracted by someone.

It was more than that.

I suppose women
are capable of something more.

You don't like women, do you?

On the contrary, I love women,
but I don't admire them.

Why?

Women are of the earth,
realistic...

- dominated by physical facts.
- What nonsense!

Once a woman betrays a man,
she despises him.

In spite of his goodness
and position...

she will give him up
for someone inferior...

if that someone is more,
shall we say, attractive.

How little
you know about women.

You'd be surprised.

- That isn't love.
- What is love?

Giving, sacrificing.

The same thing
a mother feels for her child.

- Did you love that way?
- Yes.

- Whom?
- My husband.

You're married?

I was.

He died while I was in jail.

I see.

Tell me about him.

That's a long story.

He was wounded in the war,
a hopeless invalid.

An invalid?

That's why I loved him.

He needed me,
depended on me.

He was like a child.

But he was more
than a child to me.

He was a religion.
My very breath.

I'd have killed for him.

No, love is something
very real and deep.

I know that.

- However —
- Pardon me.

I believe there's
a little cork in that wine.

Let me get you
another glass.

Penny for your thoughts.

Huh? Oh, no.

- More wine?
- Thank you. No more.

Come. It's very late,
and you're tired.

Here.

This will tide you over
for a day or so.

- Good luck.
- Thank you.

Oh, this is too much!

Silly, carrying on this way.

I was beginning
to lose faith in everything.

Then this happens, and you want
to believe all over again.

Don't believe too much.

This is a ruthless world, and one
must be ruthless to cope with it.

That isn't true.

It's a blundering world,
and a very sad one...

yet a little kindness
can make it beautiful.

You'd better go before
your philosophy corrupts me.

You can go out this way.

Good night, and thank you.

Good morning, mademoiselle.
Is there a message for me?

- Not yet, monsieur.
- Not yet, huh? How many orders
has Madame received so far?

Two, monsieur:
one every three days.

- Good. So there's still a week to go.
- Oui, monsieur.

Ah, well. We must keep up
the good work and hope for the best.

- Oui, monsieur.
- Good morning, mademoiselle.

Good morning, monsieur.

- Monsieur Verdoux?
- Oui, monsieur.

I am Detective Morrow
from police headquarters.

I'd like to talk to you.

Won't you come in?

This way, please.

Some nice pieces you have here.
Quite a collector, eh?

In a modest way.

This is rather amusing:
an old galleon figurehead.

- What's that?
- From the bow of a boat.

Very nice. Pardon me.

- Hmm. What's that?
- That? I don't know
where that came from.

- Be seated, monsieur.
- Merci.

- A drink, monsieur?
- No, no, merci.

Then you'll pardon me?

- Well.
- I want to ask you a few questions.

- Oui, monsieur.
- How long have you been
in the furniture business?

Approximately
three years, monsieur.

Do you know
a Madame Thelma Varnay?

I beg your pardon?

Thelma Varnay.

I do not, monsieur.

Or Lydia Floray?

Floray... Floray —

Oui, monsieur. Lydia Floray,
from the city of Corbell.

I'm afraid I don't, monsieur.

- You're married, aren't you?
- Yes.

- You have a wife and child.
- Quite so.

What's your relationship
with Annabella Bonheur?

"Bonheur"?
I don't understand, monsieur.

It's no use, Captain.
The game's up.

I've been shadowing you
for the past two weeks.

You've been a pretty
busy fellow these days...

traveling around the country.

What you need
is a pair of skates.

Does my wife know about this?

No, monsieur.
No one knows anything.

Not even police headquarters.

I wanted to make sure
I was on the right track first.

What are your charges?

Bigamy.

And 14 counts of murder.

Congratulations, monsieur...

but with the murder charges,
I don't think you'll succeed.

- We'll see.
- There's such a thing as corpus delicti.

Don't worry.
We'll find the bodies.

I don't think you will, monsieur.

However, we'll hold you
for bigamy until we do. Let's go.

Listen...

you have no evidence of murder,
and you know it.

But if you allow me to see my wife
before you arrest me...

I'll sign a full confession.

That's a bargain.

It'll be an hour and 20 minutes
before we get there.

I've never felt so tired.

- Pardon me if I take 40 winks.
- As many as you like, monsieur.

I'm sorry.
I must take every precaution.

- Do you mind?
- Of course not.

I never felt so sleepy.

Must have been that wine.

Hello.

- How do you do?
- Don't you remember me?

Ah, yes, yes.
How's the world treating you?

I could complain, but I won't.

What I need
is a good manager.

Do you know anybody
that wants a job?

No, I don't.

However, I can't keep on doing
this sort of business all the time.

Oh, no.
I don't want any money.

- What do you want?
- Nothing.

- I just wanted to say hello, that's all.
- Hmm.

You don't believe me, do you?

However, take this.

- No, please. I don't want your money.
- Take it. Don't be a fool.

When am I going
to see you again?

You go on about your business.

Ah. That's my call.

Hello? Annabella?

This is your pigeon.
I'm flying home.

I've been
at the shipping office all day.

No, the boat's still up
on the ways.

The damage was more serious
than we thought.

They're still scraping her sides.

You would say
something like that.

We won't be ready for several days.
That's why I'm coming home.

Mm-hmm. Immediately.

Good-bye, dear.

- Good afternoon, Captain.
- Good afternoon.

Will you take this up to my room?
Thank you.

- Pigeon!
- Annabella.

- What's that?
- Pretty?

It's for the woman next door.
She's going to have a baby.

I'm so happy you're home. I've been
worried about the deed to this house.

- I want to put it back
in my own name.
- Why, of course.

- Good. We can go
to the lawyer's right away.
- Today?

- I want to have it done and over with.
- Oh, not now.

I've only just arrived.
Besides...

I want this day to be ours,
just you and I...

alone in the waning twilight.

- If you talk like that,
I'll put it off till Monday.
- Good. We'll have dinner tête-à-tête.

We'll prepare it ourselves
and let the maid go. Hmm?

If I knew it was gonna be
this kind of an evening —

- Annette?
- Oui, madame?

- You may have
the rest of the afternoon off.
- Oh, merci, madame.

What would you like
to drink for dinner, dear?

- Bordeaux would be nice.
- Bordeaux?

Ah.

- Annette, what are you up to?
- Nothing, madame.

- Did you break something?
- No, madame.

I was just closing the window.

Well, do it
more carefully next time!

- I'm looking for a corkscrew.
- There's none here, pigeon.

It must be in the living room
somewhere.

Dinner will be ready in a half hour.
It's all in the oven.

Good. After that,
you deserve a little drink.

I certainly do.

- What are you drinking?
- Me? Sarsaparilla.

- Sarsaparilla?
- Doctor's orders, my dear.

Well, I can see what kind
of evening this is gonna be.

We'll wind up playing dominoes.

Mmm. It's good wine.

Nice and dry. I like it dry.
It makes me so thirsty.

Mm-hmm.

What's the idea?
I've almost finished this bottle myself...

and you ain't
touched yours yet.

You've done nothing
but sit and stare all evening.

I thought we were gonna enjoy
the waning twilight together.

Be careful, my dear.
Be careful of the furniture.

Oh, honey,
you're always complaining.

Here, drink your drink.

I don't see how
you can drink that vile stuff.

Very good. Just like wine.

And very dry too.

That's sarsaparilla.
You're drinking my wine.

Pigeon!

Pigeon!

Pigeon, let me in!

No. No!

Pigeon, let me in! What's the matter?

Pigeon! Pigeon, let me in!

- Pigeon, darling!
- Milk!

Pigeon, qu'est-ce que c'est?

Woman, leave me alone!

Let me help you,
please, darling.

Annette, come down quickly!
Hurry!

Pigeon, what happened?
Tell me, darling. Please.

I'm poisoned. I'm dying.
Telephone my wife.

I'm here, pigeon.

- Oh, dear. Here, take some wine.
- Take it away!

You poor darling.
Let me open your tie.

- Leave me alone, leave me alone.
- What's happened to that maid?

Yes, madame?

For the love of Julius Caesar,
what happened to you?

I don't know, madame.

I was up in my room bleaching
my hair, and it fell out.

- What's that?
- Well, get a doctor! Get two doctors!

- Take it away! Take it away!
- Calm, my love.

There's nothing
to worry about, madame.

If it's poison, he's certainly
rid of it by this time...

after using the stomach pump.

Just keep on taking the medicine
for two or three days.

Oh, uh, how is the maid?

She feels all right,
but she doesn't look so good.

Strange you didn't have
any bad effects.

Oh, nothing affects me.
I'm lucky, Doctor.

However, the captain
needs a change.

A few days in the country
will do you both good.

- Thank you, Doctor.
- Good-bye.

Did you hear
what he said, pigeon?

We should go away somewhere
in the country, just you and I alone.

Wouldn't that be fun?

Wonderful.

Oh, pigeon,
not a soul anywhere.

Perfect.

- Too bad we didn't think of this before.
- Yes.

Oh, it's lovely.

- What's that?
- That?

That's an anchor,
in case we go fishing.

Oh, we should catch
scads of them here!

Oh, I see one!
It's a monster!

Oh, no. It's me.

Isn't that silly?
My own reflection.

Warm. Oh, I wish I could swim.
I'd love to go in.

- Would you?
- I'm just in the mood.

Well, we'll see
what we can do.

Will you teach me to swim?

I'll do my best.

There's a fish! A real one!
Give me the rod, quick!

- Don't get excited, my dear.
- Quick!

It's gone. If you'd given me
the rod, I would have caught him.

- The hook must be baited first.
- Well, bait it!

- All right, but don't get —
- Shh! Shh!

- Give me — Quick.
- Just — Just —

- It's a big one! Give me —
- Just a minute.

The rod! Quick!

- Come on! Give me the rod!
- You must wait till I bait the hook.

By the time you bait the hook,
the fish'll be gone!

Where's your common sense?

What's that doing out there?
You're not baiting him
with that, are you?

You don't expect 'em
to eat this, do you?

Now what are you doing?

- I'm putting a worm on the hook.
- A worm?

- Of course.
- Disgusting!

You don't expect me to eat fish
that's been eating worms, do you?

Very well, my dear.
We'll fish without them.

Good.

- You're not angry, pigeon?
- Me? No.

Don't be mad because
you're wrong once in a while.

You can't be right all the time.

That's something.

I can see scads of them.
They're smelling the hook.

You know —

- Something wrong?
- Hmm?

They're wonderful, pigeon.
There's millions of 'em down there.
Just big ones!

You know —
Be careful! You'll go overboard!

- Are you seasick?
- No.

Shame on you, a man
who's lived at sea all his life!

Oh, Captain, really. Shh!

I've got one! I've got one!

I've got —
This is a whopper!

Hey, I've got —
Captain, I've got one!

Don't lie there asleep!
Give me a hand!

What on earth
is the matter with you?

Now it's gone!

If you'd been on the job,
I would have caught him!

Hey, what's the matter with you?
Are you drunk?

A solo drinker, huh?

Hmph. Carrying a bottle!

They're still smelling the hook.

Oh, they're big ones.

Just look at those fish!

There's a wise one.

Nope, he won't —

What are you
gonna do with that?

Lasso him.

Don't be silly. You can't lasso
a fish. Any fool knows that.

Oh, yes, you can.

All you have to do is to place it
over its head like that.

Then you pull it tight like this.

What's that?

A yodeler.

Oh, that ruins everything.

Certainly does.

Too bad we couldn't find
a place all to ourselves.

Certainly is.

After all the plans we made.

Yes.

He's looking at us
through field glasses.

We'd better take this off.
He'll think you're murdering me.

Now there's a whole gang.

- They're gonna have a picnic!
- I give up. I'm going back to my boat.

- But we've only just arrived!
- I can't help that.

- Oh, pigeon, you can't —
- What are you doing?

I got one! I got a beaut!

- Don't be a fool. Let it go.
- I can't!

- It doesn't matter.
- Don't push me.

Who's pushing you?
Don't be an idiot!

- Help!
- Please sit down!
- I can't sit down!

- Stand still!
- I'm trying to!

Pigeon!

Pigeon! Help!

Help! Help! Aah!

Oh! Oh, you idiot!

Haven't you any more sense
than to stand up in a boat?

I don't know what's come
over you lately,
but you're acting very strange.

Where's my hat?

- Madame Marie Grosnay?
- Oh, dear, dear, dear.

Thanks.

Darling, I thought you were going
to the south of France for the season.

I couldn't find anything
that suited me.

- More flowers, madame.
- Oh.

Put them over there.

Oh, Marie!

Mm! How wonderful!
Who sent them?

That awful man
who keeps pursuing me.

How thrilling.

I'm dying to know
what he's written.

Always the same thing.

Just two words:
"Please, please."

I've never known
such aggressiveness.

That doesn't sound
very aggressive.

Whatever he wants,
at least he's asking for it.

- Why don't you call him?
- That old roué?

Well, as long as
he's not too old.

But I don't know the man.

And besides, I don't have
his telephone number.

Send a letter care of the florist.
That'll reach him.

- Good morning, monsieur.
- Good morning.

- A letter for you.
- Merci.

- Did you deliver the flowers?
- Oui, monsieur. The last went yesterday.

Good. Then repeat the order
for another two weeks.

- Oui, monsieur.
- Oh, wait.

You'd better cancel the order.
May I use your telephone?

- Oui, monsieur.
- Thank you.

Hello?
Give me Passy 3211, please.

- Hello?
- This is Monsieur Varnay.

I should be
very angry with you,

but I have no more resistance.

Good.
When can I see you?

Why are you so persistent?

- Very simple:
because I love you, Marie.
- You hardly know me.

I've always known you.
From the moment we met...

I knew there was a deep, wordless
understanding between us.

It was in your eyes, Marie.

They are beautiful...

like the loneliness
of distant stars.

I often wonder:
Who are you in the dark?

I don't quite understand.

I can't express it in words.
Only a symphony could say it.

Music of the spheres.

My dear, I'm not
as ethereal as all that.

You're everything: saint, sinner,
snake, and gazelle, all in one.

I can't forget you.
Every look, tone, gesture...

is engraved in my mind.

I must see you, Marie.
Immediately. Now.

Good. I'll be right over.

Mm-hmm.

How much is that, please?

One franc, monsieur.

Keep the change.

Marie! My own beloved!

I beg your pardon!
Whom did you wish to see?

- Madame Grosnay.
- This way, please.

This way.

Ah!

I am Madame Lasalle.
Marie will be down in a moment.

Ah.

Of course.

How do you do?

Yvonne, this is Monsieur Varnay.

Yes. We just met.

Well, I'll see you at my house
for dinner at 7:30.

- Yes, at 7:30.
- Don't bother, darling.

- Good-bye.
- Good-bye.

Good-bye.

- Well, you wicked man?
- "Wicked"?

Yes.

Very wicked.

Sit over there.

Thank you.

- Tea?
- Thank you.

- Milk and sugar?
- No, thank you.

Now that Yvonne is gone,
I'm a little afraid of you.

Afraid? Why?

- Well, you know what happened
the last time we were alone.
- I'm sorry.

I — I allowed my emotions
to get the better of me.

I promise you
it will never occur again.

Oh, don't say that.

I suppose that's one
of the ironies of life:

doing the wrong thing
at the right moment.

Or, shall we say, the right thing
at the wrong moment.

Marie!

- Oh, dear!
- There. I never spilled a drop.

- Marie!
- Oh! No, go away.

- My dear. My love.
- No, please!

Oh, Marie!

What a wonderful day
for the wedding.

Whoever thought
this would happen to Marie?

- And all so sudden too.
- Yes, yes.

John? We must give them
something to drink.

The minister phoned.
He'll a half hour late.

- He has to attend a burial first.
- You'd think he'd marry them first
and bury them after.

Marie's having trouble
with her trousseau.
She's nowhere near ready.

- Where's the bridegroom?
- He hasn't arrived yet.

I understand he hates
this sort of thing.

Yes, they both wanted a quiet affair,
but you know how these things grow.

Yes.

- What was that?
- I don't know.

I've never seen her before.
Monsieur Bismo brought her along.

I must tell that one
to the captain.

Have you heard the one
about the old couple celebrating
their 60th wedding anniversary?

- Good afternoon.
- Ah. Meet my old friend,
Monsieur Carno.

And what are you doing here?

Weddings, funerals —
I attend them all.

- As I was saying, this old —
- Are you one of the bridesmaids?

- No, I'm just a stranger here.
- Yes?

Yes.
Madame Bonheur is a friend.

She happened to be in Paris,
so I brought her along.

Henri, dear, how are you?

- A little shaky.
- I know you wanted a quiet wedding...

but I had to do this for Marie.

I'm sorry to put you
through such an ordeal,
and now you must face another...

and meet some of my friends.

This is the bridegroom,
Monsieur Varnay...

and this is Madame Cornet...

Monsieur Simon,
Monsieur Delage...

Madame Bremier,
Madame Voselli...

Monsieur Contrepaire...

Monsieur Potis...

Madame Voulon...

and, of course, my husband.

- Monsieur.
- There.

I'll introduce the rest of the guests
after the ceremony.

- Aren't I nice?
- You're very kind.

No, no, I don't mean that
in a derogatory sense.

- Oh!
- I beg your pardon.

- Granted.
- How about a little drink?

- I'd love one.
- Oh, Claire —

Well, Monsieur Varnay,
how do you feel?

Oh, very abstract.
Very abstract.

Pull yourself together, old man.
The worst is yet to come.

That's true.
What am I saying?

This seems to be
my day of faux pas.

Let's hope not, monsieur.

- I didn't mean that either.
- Monsieur.

I beg your pardon.

It's a peculiar thing: At funerals,
one's inclined to laugh...

and at weddings, weep.

Yes.

Well, evidently
somebody disagrees with me.

- Who on earth could she be, I wonder.
- You should know.

Oh, yes.

A Madame Bonheur.
I think she's from Lyon.

Oh, that's good luck.

That means you're going
to be pleasantly surprised.

Pardon me.

- What's wrong?
- I think it's the cocktails.

I'll have a beer.

Thank you.

Where's Bismo?
Excuse me.

Monsieur Varnay,
is there anything wrong?

No, no. I was just
admiring your flowers.

Oh. Well, over on this side...

we have our lovely bluebells.

- Ah, the campanula.
- Yes.

And over here
are the primroses.

Of course.
The genus Oenothera.

What's wrong? Are you ill?

Cramps. They attack me
this way ever since I left India.

- Oh! Let me get you something.
- No, no. It'll pass soon.

- The minister is here, madame.
- Tell him to wait.

- Can't I do something?
- No, no, please.

- Well, Bismo.
- Jean, allow me
to present Madame Bonheur.

- It's a pleasure.
- I want you to take
very good care of her.

You just leave that to me.

Jean, I —
Oh, how do you do?

The minister's just arrived...

and Henri's in the summer house
taken with cramps.

- Do look after him.
- Well, let's see what we can do
for Monsieur Varnay.

Hmm, he doesn't seem to be here.
He must have recovered.

Possibly you'll find him
at the punchbowl, don't you think?

Come on. We'll go see.

- What are you looking for?
- Huh?

- Have you lost something?
- I, uh, dropped my sandwich.

What kind was it?

Oh, just an ordinary sandwich:

a slice of bread
between two pieces of meat.

- White or rye?
- Uh, yes.

You stay right here,
and I'll get you another one.

Uh, thank you.

He doesn't seem to be here.

Oh, there he is.
Excuse me. Stay right here.

What's the matter, old man?

Cramps. The worst attack in years.
I can't straighten up.

- I'll take you into the house.
- No, I prefer to stay here.

Friends, the great moment
has arrived.

Will everyone please
come into the house?

You can't go through a ceremony
in this condition. I'll take you inside.

No, please.
I'd like to stay in the garden.

The air will do me good.

Ah, there you are.
I didn't quite understand.

Did you want white or rye?

Rye.

You certainly have
a beautiful place here.

Wonderful, wonderful!

- Thank you.
- Don't pull me. I'm coming.

I'll have them
delay the ceremony.

If you lie down for ten minutes,
maybe the pain'll go away.

A very good idea.
You go tell them.

- I'll get you into the house first.
- I'm feeling much better now.

No, I'm not going to take
any chances. Come along.

Listen, I wish you'd let me
stay out here in the fresh air.

No, ten minutes' rest
will do you good.

The pain is muscular.
It attacks the serratus magnus.

Of course, that interferes with —

- What was that?
- Nothing at all. Go ahead.

Varnay?

- Henri!
- Beloved. See you later.

Varnay!

Monsieur Varnay!

Varnay!

Yes, this Monsieur Varnay
seems to be our man, all right.

But he must have
several aliases.

I can't believe it.

It's too bad he didn't jilt Thelma.
You're to be congratulated,
Madame Grosnay.

I knew it was the same man
the moment we read it
in the newspapers.

We have very little to go on.
Not even a photograph.

- But I'd know him if I ever saw him.
- So would I.

What was the last address
he gave you?

- The Hotel Splendide.
- We covered that, but he moved.

Yes, I know. He seems to have
moved from everywhere.

Did he ever tell you
what business he was in?

Yes, he said
he was an explorer...

working for the International
Geographical Society.

It would be a good idea
to call those people up.

What's the use? He's on his way
to the North Pole by now.

There's no such organization as
the International Geographical Society.

However, we must keep
a sharp lookout for him.

You understand
this is to be strictly confidential.

Not a word to the press...

as it would seriously
jeopardize our investigation.

Hello, hello. Yes?

Yes, yes. What?

- I said we have to foreclose.
- You can't do that. My wife and child.

We need the money.
We can't wait.

Listen, give me ten minutes.

Just ten minutes.

Good. I'll call you back.

Reaumur 6572.

Hello, Balong and Company.

Hello? This is Henri Verdoux.
Sell everything I have at once.

Are you mad?
You were wiped out hours ago!

Huh?

Come here.

Yes, you.

- Hello, Mr. Philanthropist.
- "Philanthropist"?

Don't you remember me?

You took me
to your apartment one rainy night.

- Really?
- Oh, yes.

And after feeding me
and giving me money...

you sent me on my way
like a good little girl.

I must have been a fool.

- Hey!
- Oh, shut up! Where are you going?

- Nowhere.
- Get in.

Thank you.

To the Café Royale.

And now I shall ask you
to feed me again.

I'm afraid that will be difficult.

Then I'll have the pleasure
of feeding you.

- Thank you.
- I've always wanted to meet you again.

I even went to your furniture store,
but you'd moved.

I haven't lived there in ages.

I still think
you don't remember me.

But why should you?

There's every apparent reason
why I should.

Don't you remember?
The night we met, I was just out of jail.

Shh! The chauffeur.

Of course!

- Your invalid husband.
- Ah, you remember that.

It's something
I shall never forget.

But you and all this —
what happened?

The old story —
from rags to riches.

After I saw you, my luck changed.
I met a munition manufacturer.

Ah! That's the business
I should have been in.

Yes. It'll be paying
big dividends soon.

It's nice seeing you again.

You'll never realize
what your kindness meant to me.

Kindness is a convenient thing
at times, my dear.

Oh, but tell me about yourself.

I much prefer to talk
about something pleasant.

- You, for instance, and this —
- And what?

This friend of yours —
what sort of a chap is he?

In many ways,
very kind and generous...

but in business, quite ruthless.

Business is a ruthless business,
my dear. Do you love him?

I thought you didn't believe
in such things.

Everyone needs love.

Something's happened.

You seem to have
lost your zest for bitterness.

Perhaps I have no more use for it
since I've given up the fight.

There's always something to fight for.

- For me there is nothing.
- Nothing?

You see, soon after the crash,
I lost my wife and child.

Oh, I'm sorry. I never realized.

However, they're much happier
where they are...

than living in this world
of fear and uncertainty.

You have changed.
I can see that.

Since the loss of my family...

I seem to have
awakened from a dream.

What do you mean?

I was a bank clerk once...

my existence
a monotonous rhythm.

Day in and day out,
counting other people's money.

Then something happened.
The rhythm was broken.

I lost my position.

What followed
was a numbed confusion...

a nightmare in which I lived
in a half dream world...

a horrible world.

Now I have awakened.

Sometimes I wonder
if that world ever existed.

You've been through
a terrible ordeal...

but you mustn't allow it
to take hold of you.

It hasn't.

Despair is a narcotic.

It lulls the mind
into indifference.

But that's giving up life.

We must all give it up
sooner or later.

- Yes, but not before our time.
- Why?

Must you know
the reason for everything?

It might help a little if we did.

Life is beyond reason.

That's why you must go on...

if it's only to fulfill your destiny.

My destiny.

Check your hat?

Why anyone wants to go up
in the Eiffel Tower at night,
I can't understand.

- You can't see a thing.
- That was Phoebe's idea.

- She has her way about everything.
- How many, please?

- There'll be five.
- This way, please.

I'd like to eat now.
I'm hungry.

- We'd better wait
for the rest of the family.
- They'll be hours yet.

At least we can have a drink.
What do you want?

- Vermouth.
- Two vermouths.

- Oui, monsieur.
- Let's dance.

- What's the matter?
- Thelma's husband.

- Where?
- Behind you.

You're right. It is.

- You're stepping all over my feet!
- I can't help it. Let's sit down.

Oh, poor Thelma! It's him!

Listen, pull yourself together.
I'm gonna phone the police.

- Don't leave me! He'll murder me!
- Don't be a fool. Keep your eye on him.

Don't let him out of your sight.
If he leaves while I'm phoning,
follow him. Understand?

You look tired. What you need
is someone to look after you.

I must take you in hand.

You're very kind.

Merci, madame.

Thank you.

Cab, sir?

Car number ten.

They're leaving.

Take down the number
of the car.

I haven't got a pencil.
Go get a pencil.

Pardon me.

- Could you lend me a pencil?
- In the office.

- Where's that?
- Around the corner.

Thank you.

Open up!

Open this door!
Let me out!

Help! Help!

- Now I shall say good night.
- Oh. What are you going to do?

I am going
to fulfill my destiny.

Here's my card.

Be sure to let me
hear from you. Soon.

- Merci.
- Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

All right, sir.

Listen, boys,
you know your positions.

One man at each corner
and two at the back.
The rest of you come with me.

- Victor, you remain here.
- Yes, sir.

Here, here. Break it up.

Around this way.

- This seems to be it.
- You take care of it.

Let these men through now.

Go back to your tables.

There he is! Get him!

That's not him! That's my brother!

Go back to your tables.
We'll handle this whole thing.

What have you done?
That's my witness!

Get him a glass of water.

My poor brother!

You!

Make way, please. Let me through.

- Let us through, please.
- What is it?

- I've just seen him!
- Where?

There!

Don't let anyone leave.
Jacques, Henri, guard the entrance.

Yes, sir.

Thank you.

There he is! That's him!

Henri Verdoux?

At your service.

Never, never in the history
of jurisprudence...

have such terrifying deeds
been brought to light.

Gentlemen of the jury, you have
before you a cruel and cynical monster.

Look at him.

Observe him, gentlemen.
This man, who has brains...

if he had decent instincts,
could have made an honest living.

And yet he preferred to rob
and murder unsuspecting women.

In fact,
he made a business of it.

I do not ask for vengeance
but for the protection of society.

For this mass killer
I demand the extreme penalty:

that he be put to death
on the guillotine.

The state rests its case.

Monsieur Verdoux,
you have been found guilty.

Have you anything to say
before sentence is passed upon you?

Oui, monsieur. I have.

However remiss the prosecutor
has been in complimenting me...

he at least admits
that I have brains.

Thank you, monsieur.
I have.

And for 35 years,
I used them honestly.

After that...

nobody wanted them...

so I was forced to go
into business for myself.

As for being a mass killer,
does not the world encourage it?

Is it not building
weapons of destruction...

for the sole purpose
of mass killing?

Has it not blown
unsuspecting women...

and little children to pieces...

and done it very scientifically?

As a mass killer...

I'm an amateur by comparison.

However, I do not wish
to lose my temper...

because very shortly
I shall lose my head.

Nevertheless...

upon leaving this spark
of earthly existence...

I have this to say:

I shall see you all...

very soon.

Very soon.

- No pictures.
- Well, Max, how is he?

He's nuts!
Talks as though he's a saint.

Twists everything
with a lot of half-truths.

Says you can't have
good without evil.

Something about evil being
the shadows cast from the sun.

- I think he's kidding all of us.
- All right, you can go in.

- So long, Max. See you later.
- Hope you get a better break than I did.

No pictures!

Well, well, well.

Verdoux.

You'll have to admit:
Crime doesn't pay, does it?

No, sir.
Not in a small way.

What do you mean?

To be successful in anything,
one must be well-organized.

You're not leaving the world
with that cynical remark?

To be idealistic
at this moment...

would be incongruous,
don't you think?

What's all this talk
about good and evil?

Arbitrary forces,
my good fellow.

Too much of either
will destroy us all.

We can never have
too much good in the world.

Trouble is, we've never had enough.
We don't know.

Listen, Verdoux, I've been
your friend all through the trial.

Now give me a break.
A story with a moral to it.

You, the tragic example
of a life of crime.

I don't see how anyone
can be an example...

in these criminal times.

Well, you certainly are —
robbing and murdering people.

That's business.

Well, other people
don't do business that way.

That's the history
of many a big business.

Wars, conflict —

it's all business.

One murder makes a villain...

millions a hero.

Numbers sanctify,
my good fellow.

Father Ferro to see you.

By all means, show him in.

You'll pardon me,
but my time is limited.

Verdoux, is there anything else
you'd like to say before I leave?

Yes. Good-bye.

All right, Father.

Well, Father...

and what can I do for you?

Nothing, my son.
I want to help you, if I can.

I've come to ask you
to make your peace with God.

I am at peace with God.

My conflict is with man.

Have you
no remorse for your sin?

Who knows what sin is...

born as it was from heaven,
from God's fallen angel?

Who knows
the ultimate destiny it serves?

After all, what would you
be doing without sin?

Exactly what
I'm doing now, my son:

trying in my humble way
to help a lost soul in distress.

They're coming. Let me pray for you.

As you wish.

But I don't think these gentlemen
want to be kept waiting.

May the Lord have mercy
on your soul.

Why not?

After all, it belongs to him.

Henri Verdoux...

the Criminal Court of Justice
of the French Republic...

sentenced you to die
by the guillotine.

It is now the order of the court that
the sentence be carried out this day.

Merci.

- Cigarette?
- No, thank you.

- Here.
- What's that?

Rum.

No, thank you.

Uh, just a moment.

I've never tasted rum.