All language subtitles for The Twilight Zone - S01E24 - Long Live Walter Jameson.eng

[EERIE MUSIC]

NARRATOR: There is a fifth dimension

beyond that which is known to man.

It is a dimension as vast as space

and as timeless as infinity.

It is the middle ground
between light and shadow,

between science and superstition.

And it lies between
the pit of man's fears

and the summit of his knowledge.

This is the dimension of imagination.

It is an area which we
call the Twilight Zone.

You're looking at act one,
scene one of a nightmare,

one not restricted to witching hours

and dark, rain-swept nights.

Professor Walter Jameson,
popular beyond words,

who talks of the past
as if it were the present,

who conjures up the dead
as if they were alive.

The Union soldiers burned Atlanta,

but I assure you, they took
no pleasure in their work.

They were forced to it

by a man they hated more than
they could ever hate the rebels.

An ugly, sullen,

unbelievably brutal man

named William Tecumseh Sherman.

To give you a more comprehensive
idea of this great hero,

let me read you a few extracts
from the diary of Major Skelton.

The date is Tuesday, September 11, 1864.

"The city was ours."

"There was no need to destroy aught,"

"save that which could be
of use in the fight against us."

"But Sherman was drunk with victory."

"He himself started the awful fires."

"The fires that destroyed that
great citadel of grace and beauty."

NARRATOR: In the view of this man,
Professor Samuel Kittridge,

Walter Jameson has access to knowledge

that couldn't come out
of a volume of history,

but rather from a book on black magic.

Which is to say that this
nightmare begins at noon.

Very vivid, Walter. You had
me on the edge of my seat.

Thank you, Sam.

I begin to see why these
lectures of yours are so popular.

Is that why you sat in?

Well, partially. Tell me something.
Who is this Major Skelton?

Oh, just a lawyer wrapped into a mist.

Uh, what regiment?

Hundred and Twenty Third Infantry.

I must say, the story of his
is a fascinating document.

May I see it?

I, uh, I don't suppose I could borrow it.

I never lend books to
absent-minded professors.

Remember the last time?

Yes. You're right.

Anything wrong, Sam?

No. Could you come for dinner tonight?

Whose invitation? Yours or Susanna's?

Mine this time. Say, 7:00?

All right.

Good.

[CRICKETS CHIRPING]

Really, darling, must
you always be on time?

Always.

Please. Remember, you're a Ph.D.

Not yet, I'm not. There's a little
matter of an examination. Remember?

A technicality. Anyway,
you're gonna be a housewife.

The devil she is.

I'm giving you my daughter's
hand, not her brain.

She's gonna get that Ph.D...

If I have to spank her. I know.

Don't tell me you're
the cook again tonight.

Indeed, and why not?

Well, I think it's time that
I tried Susanna's cooking.

Don't worry, you will.

I'm sure. Well, shall we sit down?

My lady.

I take it back, Sam.
She'll never be the cook you are.

[CHUCKLES]

What do you think
you're doing, young lady?

I'll do the dishes later.

It's not the dishes I'm talking about.

It's books and study. Upstairs.

Besides, Walter and I
have something to discuss.

You're not going to
treat me this way, are you?

Worse. Who knows? You
may have to support us.

You oughta be ashamed of yourself, Sam.

Susanna's almost 30 years old.

And I'm almost 70.

Mm-hm.

My move, isn't it?

Yes.

What's that for?

Look at them. Extraordinary, isn't it?

They look very much alike.

Twelve years ago, those two hands.

Time marches on.

For some of us. Walter,
tell me something, will you?

Of course.

How old are you?

Forty-four.

I seem to recall that when you applied
for a post on the university staff,

you listed your age as 39.

That was, let me see, 1947,

which would make you 51.

Come on, Sam.

All right, I'm 51.

Too old for Susanna? Is that it?

In a sense.

Walter, in 1947, I was 58.

I had most of my hair, all my
teeth and hardly a wrinkle.

Look at me now.

In 12 short years, I've
turned into an old man,

while you haven't aged at all.

It happens that way sometime.

I know, but why?

Don't ask me, Sam. You're
the chemist. I teach history.

Yes, and you teach it very well.

You know what the students say?

They say it's almost as though you'd lived
through the period you were discussing.

I try to make it interesting.

Fake it, you mean?

You could call it that.

Yes, that's what I thought.

But somehow, that didn't seem like you.

You're such a precise sort.

What have you got there?

A book of photographs taken
by a fellow named Mathew Brady

during the time of the Civil War.

Well, what is it?

You look as though you've seen a ghost.

Maybe I have.

Walter was-was your grandfather
in the Civil War, by any chance?

No.

Then I'd say we have
something of a mystery here.

How so?

You made me curious about
this Major Skelton today.

I thought it would be interesting
to see what he looked like,

so I went through my Brady pictures,
not really expecting to find anything.

These are three of
Sherman's staff officers.

The one seated at the table is
identified as Major Hugh Skelton.

That picture was taken
almost 100 years ago.

You shouldn't have kept that
ring, you know. It's a dead giveaway.

What are you getting at, Sam?

Oh, come, Walter. You know
exactly what I'm getting at.

Oh, you're joking. Just because I happen
to look like somebody in a photograph.

And happen to be wearing the same ring

and happen to have the same
mole on the left side of your face.

Walter, you and I have
been very close for 12 years.

Tell me the truth. You...

You are that man in... in
the photograph, aren't you?

Yes.

[SIGHS]

I've suspected a long time.

But it seemed fantastic.

Mm, it is.

Yes.

How old are you, Walter?

You wouldn't believe me.

I can believe anything now.

All right. Let's say that I'm old enough
to have known this gentleman personally.

Plato?

But that was over 2,000 years ago!

I knew you wouldn't believe me.

No, no, it's... it isn't that, it's...

Two thousand years.

How, Walter? How?

In heaven's name, this is what
mankind has been dreaming of.

Sam.

Tell me the secret.

I can't tell you the secret, Sam,

because I don't know it myself.

I was like you, Sam.

Afraid of death. And when I thought
of all the things there were to know

in the miserable few years
that a man had to know them,

it seemed senseless.
At night, every night

I dreamed, as you dream, of immortality.

Only if a man lived forever, I thought,

could there be any
point in living at all?

I talked to priests, philosophers.

Then one day I met an alchemist.

Told him these things. He said
that he could grant my wish.

Only, of course, it would
cost a great deal of money.

I was desperate, I paid him his money
and submitted to his experiments.

I remember very little about it.

I lay in a coma for many weeks,

and when I revived, I was alone.

The alchemist had disappeared.

Go on.

There's really very little more to tell.

I thought, of course, that
the experiment had failed

because I didn't feel any differently.

But then

I saw my wife and my children aging.

My friends dying.

This was something that I
hadn't considered, you see?

But surely there... there's
some answer to that problem.

Is there? Think about it.

I tell you that somehow I
can stop you from aging.

Where do you want to stop, at 30?

Then you watch everyone
around you grow old.

At 70?

Do you want to live
forever the way you are now?

Old, sick?

It's better than dying.

No, you're wrong, Sam.

I was wrong.

It's... death

that gives this world its point.

We love a rose because we know it'll
soon be gone. Who ever loved a stone?

I'm not a rose. I'm
not a stone. I'm a man!

Very old and very frightened.

Of what, death?

Yes, of death.

You're a fool, Sam. I want to die.

Then why don't you?

Because I'm a coward.

You?

I haven't changed.
I'm the same man I was.

I was a coward then, I'm a coward now.

I'm tired of living.

In my desk I have a revolver, Sam.

And every night I take it out and pray for
the courage to pull the trigger. I can't.

You mean to say that you've
survived over 2,000 years

without an accident,
without being wounded?

Some people are lucky that way.

They go through life
without ever breaking a bone

or seeing the inside of a hospital.

Oh, I've been close to death, many times,

but never close enough.

Thank you.

For what?

I thought if a man lived
forever, he'd grow wiser.

But that isn't true, is it?

You just go on living. That's all.

It must be lonely.

I suppose you've been
married several times.

Yes.

How long with each woman, Walter?

Ten years? Fifteen years?

I see.

Sam, I tried to resign six months ago. You
talked me out of it. Do you remember that?

Yes.

I knew Susanna was
falling in love with me,

and I knew what would
happen. It's happened before.

A few years of happiness and then...

I tried to warn her. I did everything
in my power to discourage her.

Except tell her the truth.

How could I do that? She'd
have thought I was mad.

Then why didn't you leave?

Because by then it was too late.

I was in love with her.

I need her.

Everything is against it.
All my reason and experience.

But that doesn't matter
now. It doesn't matter.

It does to me, Walter. I can't
let you marry my daughter.

SUSANNA: And why not?

Well, come on.

Your father seems to think
I'm too old for you, darling.

That's the silliest
thing I ever heard of.

Good.

Then you'll marry me tonight.

I think you mean it.

I do. You go upstairs,
pack your prettiest things.

I'll pick you up in 15 minutes.

But...

Go.

I'll tell her.

She won't believe you.

Nobody would.

You won't believe it yourself
by tomorrow morning.

WOMAN: Hello, Tommy.

Who are you?

Don't you recognize me, Tommy?

Look hard. Look into my eyes.

You called them the most beautiful
you'd ever seen once, a long time ago.

I'm afraid you're making a mistake.

No, Tommy.

My name is Jameson.

Professor Walter Jameson.

Don't pretend.

I know who you are.

And who am I?

You're Tom Bowen, my husband.

Your husband?

My dear woman, perhaps if you'll
tell me who you're looking for.

Oh, stop it. I saw the
picture in the newspaper

announcing your engagement.

I had to come to see if it was true.

It is.

I can't explain it.
I only know it's happened.

I've grown old, and you haven't.

Now you're going to marry someone else

and leave her, the way you left me.

Oh, Laurette. Laurette.

I can't let you marry
her, Tommy. You're mine.

[YELLS]

Laurette.

Tommy, it's wrong.

You can't go on hurting people.

[GUNSHOT]

What is it? What's happened?

Walter?

Hello, Sam.

I thought I heard...

Are you all right?

[WEAKLY] I don't know.

It doesn't matter.

Either way, you're... you'll be rid of me.

What do you mean?

[GRUNTS]

I mean...

I've come to my senses... at last.

Tell Susanna that...

Oh, no, stay away.

You're hurt.

I'll call a doctor.

No.

Your hand.

It's happening.

At last.

Walter, what is it?

What's happening?

Oh, my God.

[WEAK VOICE] Nothing
lasts forever, thank God.

[GROANS]

[QUICK, SHALLOW BREATHING]

[PAINED WHEEZING]

Dad! Walter!

Go home, Susanna.

That sound was a shot! Walter's hurt!

Please, Susanna, go home!

[TUSSLING]

Walter?

He's-he's gone.

Where?

I don't know, my dear, I...

His clothes?

Dad?

What is that on the floor?

Dust.

Only dust.

NARRATOR: Last stop on a long journey,

as yet another human being
returns to the vast nothingness

that is the beginning

and into the dust that is always the end.

PRESENTER: Rod Serling,
the creator of Twilight Zone

will tell you about next week's story
after this word from our alternate sponsor.

And now, Mr. Serling.

Next week, an excursion to Mars

with Roddy McDowall and Paul Comi.

Two men trying to prove a point.

A simple proposition
that men are alike all over.

And on Mars they discover that
this is just whistling in the dark.

People are not alike. And next week
on The Twilight Zone you'll see why.

I hope you'll be with us.
Thank you and good night.

[EERIE MUSIC]

PRESENTER: Be sure to
see the fun-filled family life

of one of America's greatest
entertainers, The Danny Thomas show.

Monday nights over
most of these stations.