All language subtitles for Mceng3

The Count of Monte Cristo

of the novel by

In February 1815, in Marseilles,
the bookkeeper Danglars,

with envy of the
sailor Edmond Dantès,

denounces him as a
Bonapartist conspirator.

The attorney's deputy,
Villefort, committed to the case,

throws Dantes into a
dungeon in the Château d'If.

He stays there 14 years.

In confidence,
prisoner Abbé Faria

reveals to him the existence
of a fabulous treasure

buried in a cave on the
island of Monte-Cristo.

Dantès manages to escape from
the Château d'If and finds the treasure.

Now he's one of the
richest men in the world

and begins to settle
accounts with his enemies

under the mantle of the
mysterious Count of Monte-Cristo.

In 1838, during the
Carnival of Rome,

he saves the young Viscount Morcerf
from the clutches of a Roman bandit.

Filled with gratitude, Albert de
Morcerf invites the Count to Paris.

Monte-Cristo finds each one
whose betrayal led to his arrest.

Fernand became Count of Morcerf

and husband of Mercédès,
Dantes' former fiancee.

Danglars became a banker and
Villefort became royal prosecutor.

3rd episode THE CELERATES

Albert, don't worry.
I understand it well.

Mr. Debray
evaluates my furniture?

No, I like them too much.

I just do some math.

This indirectly
concerns you, Albert.

I reckon House Danglars
won with Haiti's latest rise

300 thousand francs.

- How was that?
- Very simple.

Funds rose from 206 to
400 francs in three days

and the baron disposed of his shares
when the value reached this last value.

He had a nose because the funds
dropped to 204 after selling them.

A well-informed man.

Reported here by Mr.
Debray, who, before anyone

else, receives news
by telegraph on his desk

and then passes them
on to Mrs. Danglers.

Why does she say this?

Her connection to the baroness
is notorious, my dear Lucien.

Aren't you afraid that one day the
telegraph will transmit false news?

The idea is interesting,
but I assure you

Mr. Count that the
Ministry of the Interior

never received false
news by telegraph.

Are you doing your harvest?

It's time for a break, sir.

Is it one of the bosses?

Rest, I'm just a traveler who's
never seen the aerial telegraph.

What a beautiful
invention Mr. Chappe.

You came to see the telegraph.

I won't make you
waste your time.

My time is not worth much.

I still have a few moments.

I received the signal that
I could rest for an hour.

It must be exhausting work.

No, it is just a matter of
mechanically repeating the signals

transmitted by the previous station
and the next one does the same.

There are 53 from here to Bordeaux.

How long does a
full-size shipment take?

to arrive from Bordeaux?

Six minutes with clear skies.

Do you often have interesting
messages to convey?

Interesting?

We don't try to understand,
we just repeat the 98 signs.

Being a telegraph operator
requires long studies.

No, it's brief.

Long is the wait for the promotion,
that this one, not even seeing it.

Anyway...

You earn a thousand francs a
year, you have accommodation...

And a beautiful vegetable garden.

It's where I spend my
breaks and foggy days.

These days it's a party.

I plant, trim, prune,
kill caterpillars.

Time passes.
I've been here for ten years.

In another ten years, I will
have a pension of 300 francs.

300 francs? Interesting.

What if you dared to change
anything about the signal

you send and end up
transmitting another message?

He would be fired and would lose his
pension. I would never do such a thing!

Not even for...

For fifteen thousand francs?

Do you want to buy me?

Just try it.
So let's say 25,000 francs.

Think about it.

With 5,000 francs, he buys a
beautiful house and two acres of land.

Of the 20 that are left, he
takes a thousand in income.

Imagine just two acres of land.
The amount of strawberries

the apricot heaps,
the nectarine pyramids.

My God...

- What should I do?
- A childish thing.

It will transmit these signals.

You can accompany me.

Lucien...

Hermine, does her husband
have Spanish funds?

I think about six million.

Well, let him sell,
no matter the price.

D. Carlos fled Burges
and returned to Spain.

The Carlists will seize power.

Thank you Lucien.

Is it the notary?

Yes sir Count.

Here's the scripture.

Where is this house I'm buying?

Conde, the house
is very well located in

Auteuil, on the edge of
the Bosque de Bologna.

Do you think the suburbs are a place
for a country house, Mr. Bertuccio?

- It was Mr. Count to see the ad.
- You're right.

I was seduced by a
misleading "cottage" ad.

- I'll look elsewhere.
- Leave it alone, I'll take this one.

Give 55,000 francs
to this gentleman.

The Count was wrong.

It's just 50,000 francs,
including my fees.

It's to pay for your travels.

Thank you sir.

Mr. Bertuccio.

Sir?

I would like to visit my
property this afternoon.

- Will you accompany me?
- Yes sir.

In Auteuil, 28 Rue
de la Fontaine.

Rue de la Fontaine?

Number 28?

Dude, this house looks
completely abandoned.

It's true, Mr. Count.

The Marquis de Saint-Méran has
not been here for more than five years.

Saint-Méran...

That name tells me something.

A faithful servant
of King Louis XVIII.

He gave his only daughter
in marriage to Mr. de Villefort,

who was royal procurator at
Marseilles and later at Versailles.

She died twenty years ago.

Since then, Mr. de Villefort
came no more than three times.

The house must remind
you too much of her.

Should I accompany you?

No thank you.

Come in, Mr. Bertuccio.

- Let's see where this ladder leads.
- To the garden, sir.

Finally, I believe.

- Let's make sure. - Yes sir.

Now.

Yes sir.

Then?

Go ahead, Mr. Bertuccio.

You can go ahead.

What holds you back?

You see well that
none of this is natural.

Buy a house in Auteuil

and it is precisely 28
Rue de La Fontaine,

as if there were
only the house of...

Of...?

... of the murder, sir.

From murder, plague?

Corsican devil, always with
mysteries and superstitions.

I want to see this garden.

Go no further, sir.

This is where he fell.

Mr. Bertuccio,
let's be serious.

We are in an English garden in
Auteuil and not in the middle of the bush.

Abbé Busoni recommended him

not to mention his
involvement in a murder.

The Abbé heard me confess.

He warned him that
I made a big mistake.

Yes, but I thought it was
a robbery or a vendetta.

That's right, a vendetta.

And that vendetta was
carried out right here.

Right here...

Tell me everything.

This is only told in the
secrecy of confession.

Then I send him back to the Abbé, to
the Nimes prison where he found him.

I tell.

It all dates back to 1815.

My eldest brother served the
Emperor in a Corsican regiment.

After Waterloo he arrived at Nimes,

where should I find
him to bring him money.

Unfortunately, in the
South it was the time of

the White Terror and
they massacred my brother.

So I went after the royal
prosecutor in Marseilles.

Tell me...

At the time in Marseille,
there was a prosecutor

called Villefort, it seems to me.

Yes, it was him.

I told him about
my brother's death

and he said that so many monarchists
had been massacred in the Revolution,

that now it was the turn of the
republicans and the Bonapartists to pay

the harsh law of reprisals.

A very natural thing, he said.

It was then that I
declared the vendetta

and told him that at our
next meeting I would kill him.

And ran away.

He sent for me everywhere
and didn't dare leave the house.

I waited patiently
for the right time,

without making me notice.

When he was appointed
to Versailles, I followed him

and I found that he
often came to Auteuil.

On here,

to this house.

I found out.

The owner resided in Marseille.

As he was never in
Auteuil, he rented the house

to a young widow
known as "baroness".

She was in hiding,
awaiting the birth of a child.

I was told that her lover
came to see her often.

One night she was
waiting and I saw him.

It was Villefort.

He could avenge me.

Three days later, a
servant rode out at 7:00 pm

and took the road to
Versailles at full throttle.

At 10:00, Villefort was there.

He entered the house
by the secret staircase.

I waited and after some time...

When I saw him digging the
earth to bury the ark he brought,

a little greed
added to my hatred.

I thought the ark had money.

I'm Giovanni Bertuccio.

Your death for my brother.

Your treasure for his widow.

Well...

What I see is a murder
followed by a robbery.

Sorry, my lord...

A vendetta followed
by restitution.

That's what I thought, except
there was no money in the chest

but a newborn child.

She looked dead, her
hands were already purple.

I thought I felt her
heart beating weakly

and I did as there in
my land in these cases.

I blew air into
her little lungs.

After a quarter of an
hour, he screamed.

He was alive.

What became of this child?

He was a boy.

I left him at the casa pia in Paris

and I kept half of the embroidered
swaddling cloth that wrapped it.

Six months later, my sister-in-law
came from Corsica to pick up the kid.

Did they give it to you?

Yes, she was able to show
the other half of the swaddle.

We called him Benedetto.

- And the child survived?
- Yes sir.

I won't even tell you the
bad times the scoundrel

put us through when he
was a kid. But one day...

The saddest day of my life,

Benedetto helped by two friends,

tied my sister-in-law
in front of the fireplace

and burned her feet to make
her say where she had the money.

- Atrocious.
- Yea.

The rest is still much more.

The fire caught the unfortunate
woman's clothes and...

...and she burned to death.

Benedetto ran away.

I never saw him again.

God made you pay dearly
for your crime, Mr. Bertuccio.

Have you read this unusual thing?

The news of Dom Carlos'
escape was a mistake

due to misinterpreted
telegraph signals due to fog.

A mistake... But what a day!

What's up, Mr. Attorney?

Did the neck of a
convict escape you?

No, Mr. Count.

I only suffered a loss of money.
Almost nothing, 900 thousand francs.

My father disowned
my daughter Valentine.

- Mr. Count!
- Lady...

Excuse...

I take cognizance
of your misfortune.

As well?

Mr. de Villefort was telling me
about his stepdaughter's misfortune.

Valentine was always opposed to
the idea of marrying Franz d'Épinay,

so it wouldn't surprise me that,
combined with her grandfather,

she has done by boycotting him.

- Giving up 900,000 francs?
- She doesn't want to know about it.

Less than a year ago, she wanted
to be a nun and go to a convent.

Valentine is going to
marry Franz d'Épinay.

An annulled marriage is a
stain on a maiden's reputation.

I agree.

May I have some
advice on the matter?

I thank you, Mr. Count.

The opinion of such a counselor
is the best I could hope for.

I'm having dinner next Saturday.

Your presence will
give me great pleasure.

We will, dear friend.

If you allow me to
call you "dear friend".

It's an honor for me.

It will be in my
new country house

at 28 rue de la
Fontaine in Auteuil.

It was you who sold
Mr. from Saint-Méran?

Yes, the world is small.

The chance of an
advertisement in the newspapers

it was a choice that brings
me even closer to your family.

I'll wait for you Saturday at 18:00.

We will.

Mr. Marquis
Bartolomeo Cavalcanti.

Marquis Bartolomeo Cavalcanti,

ex-major in the service of
Austria, if I'm not mistaken.

Exactly, Your Excellency.

Was it Abbé Busoni who sent you?

It was. He asked me to
deliver this letter to him.

Abbé is an excellent man.

"Major Cavalcanti,
worthy patrician of Luca,"

"descendant of the
Cavalcanti of Florence..."

- Sit down. - Thanks.

"... owner of a fortune that
gives him half a million income..."

Half a million?
He didn't expect so much.

Yes, that's what
Abbé Busoni wrote.

He is incapable of misjudging

the fortunes that
flourish in Italy.

"... half a million income and
who only needs to be happy,"

"find the beloved son"

"kidnapped at age
five by gypsies".

It is true.
He was just five years old.

poor father.

"I gave him back
his life by telling him

that Mr. Count can
reunite him with his son."

Well I can.

Forgive me, but you didn't
read it all, Your Excellency.

There is a postscript.

Forgiveness.

Well there is.

"And please give the Major
the 50,000 francs you owe me."

Very good.

Do you really agree with
the terms of this postscript?

Why shouldn't I agree?

A request from Abbé Busoni,
for me, is the word of the Gospel.

It's like an alter ego.

Forgiveness?

It's just the heat.

Please forgive me,
I'm tired from the trip.

- Feel free.
- Thanks.

So they took your son away from you?

Yes, it is a very
difficult situation.

Especially as it was given to him
by the Marquise Olivia Corsinari,

a charming lady and I believe
of the nobility of Fiseole.

Yes, from the nobility of Fiseole.

A sin of youth?

And did he marry her,
despite the family's opposition?

Some monsters.
But I got my way.

Abbé sent me his
marriage certificate

and the birth of your child.

- An exceptional man.
- Admirable.

His son's name is Andrea and
his mother died ten years ago?

Yes, ten years.

And I still mourn that
woman's death today.

We are all mortals.

Will hand these
papers to your son

and make him
understand the value of it.

I'll give you 10,000 francs.

I owe you 40 grand.

Thanks.

Don't wear that overcoat anymore,
it makes you look like a retiree.

He will find everything he
needs in the suitcase that

arrived at the Hotel dos
Príncipes, where he will be staying.

Now guess who's here.

Angelo?

I would rather say Andrea.

Is he here?

Andrea!

Hug me, my son.

Andrea...

Hug me, Andrea.
My son has been found!

Very good.

I do not ask for
any recognition but I

would be delighted
to introduce you

next Saturday at
a dinner in Auteuil.

Mrs. Baroness Danglers.

Mr. Lucien Debray.

Mr. Baron Danglers.

Mr. Baron d'Epinay.

How are you, my dear count?

Your house smells delicious.

It is a scent of wildflowers from
where the southern winds cross.

Mr. Danglars doesn't
seem in a good mood.

Not up to par?

The false news of Dom Carlos'
escape cost him a fortune.

Mr. Marquis
Bartolomeo Cavalcanti.

Mr. Viscount Andrea Cavalcanti.

Mrs. Baroness Danglers.

Mr. Lucien Debray.

Baron Danglers.

Who is that Cavalcanti?

Princes family.

They try to spend their
fortune without succeeding.

The son wants to
get a wife in Paris.

Cavalcanti. Good name, yes!

Dress in white.
Véronique's shirt and tie.

It's perfect.

A little naive, perhaps.

Mr. Royal Attorney
and Mrs. from Villefort.

Mr. Count...

You did not tell me
the number of guests.

He saw them at the door
and they have all arrived.

What's wrong with you?

The lady who arrived
first, in the gray dress...

Mrs. Danglers.

She is the woman of the garden.

The one who was pregnant.

And the last to arrive, with
glasses and a sinister look...

Mr. de Villefort,
the royal procurator.

- So I didn't kill him.
- I would say no.

Note the young blond
man in the black coat.

Next to Murillo's painting.

Benedetto!

You can start serving, we're
going to the table at 6:30.

You seem fascinated
by my canvas, Mr. Baron.

I'm flattered.

I know this work.
It was proposed to the museum.

- The museum didn't buy it.
- It's because?

You are very naive,
my dear Baron.

Because the government
is not rich enough.

Whose fault is it?

I lived a few months in Russia.

I believe this fish is a
variety of sturgeon, the

sterlete, whose roe is
used to prepare caviar.

Exactly.

Mr. Major Cavalcanti, who is
Italian, must know the other's name.

It's lamprey.

But be careful, to fish

a lamprey of this size,

just going to Lake Fusaro,
which is more than five

hours from Naples and
is connected to the sea.

But how do they get to Paris?

It's very simple.

It reminds me of what happened
to the Prince of Talleyrand.

He asked the head waiter
to change the salmon dish

and he immediately sent
for two more, but alive.

Mr. Count, I greatly admire

the readiness with which it is served.

I believe he bought
this house on Monday.

Yes.

I visited it when the
Marquis put it up for sale,

abandoned for years.

Mistaken for one of
those murder houses,

where some great crime
has been committed.

Yeah, it's weird.

The same idea occurred to
me the first time I walked in.

There was, above all, a
room covered in apricot red.

with surprisingly
dramatic effect.

I left it as it was.

Yes, it reminds me of the room
of the Marchioness of Ganges.

There is a small secret
staircase that leads to the

garden and I can imagine the
Knight of Ganges and the Abbe

coming down the
stairs on a stormy

night, carrying
some sinister burden.

They wish at all costs to hide
themselves from the eyes of men,

or even from the eyes of God.

What do you have?

The earl startled the
lady with this bloody story.

- I am desolate.
- Give him a sniff.

Hermine, the Marchioness of Ganges
died at Hérault and not at Auteuil.

Allow me.

Did I scare you that much?

She has a way of telling things
that makes your blood run cold.

I reproach myself for the fear I
unintentionally caused you, Baroness.

I could have referred
to that red room

like that of an honest and
peaceful mother of a family.

And the staircase like
the one by which the father,

out of respect for her sleep,
she takes her sleeping child.

I prefer this more
serene version.

An authentic Nativity.

However, I'm sure there
was a crime in this house.

Mr. Count, have mercy.

Caution!
We have the royal attorney here.

Precisely! I take this
opportunity to make my statement.

Lord of Villefort...

One day I had the servants
dig a hole in the garden

and found an ark.

- They called me...
- And in that chest?

There was the
skeleton of a newborn.

I was not wrong.

This house looks scary
because it hides a crime.

Who tells you it was a crime?

A child buried alive. What name
do you give him, Mr. from Villefort?

I've never seen her in this state.

Someone hurt her.

Tell me.
You don't need to hide anything from me.

No, Lucien. I was bothered

hearing the macabre fables of
Mr. of Monte-Cristo, that's all.

Good night.

Mr. Debray, it's 11:00 pm
and you live a long way away.

Lucien, I have a thousand things
to tell you. Don't go, sit down.

Mr. Debray will listen to
Mrs. Danglers tomorrow.

I'm not kicking him out.

It's usually just rude, but
tonight it was extremely crude.

You're making progress.

I appreciate you taking out your
bad mood on your employees.

But since they make my
fortune and I pay them badly, I am

not angry with them, but with
those who emptied my safe!

I lost 700,000 francs to Spain.

And is it my fault?

Listen up...

I always gave him strictly 25%

gains made through their
ministerial relationships.

You gave me false news.

It makes me lose 700,000 francs.

So you owe me 25%. Borrow them!

to Mr. Debray, for example!

Doesn't it give you
half of your earnings?

Thus, your lover will realize
that he has not discovered a

roulette wheel where he
always wins without ever betting.

Miserable!

So it is.

I'm so wrong with Mr. Debray
as with Mr. from Villefort,

which was the first in the collection.

How so, Mr. from Villefort?

Do I need to explain?

Her first husband, the
late Mr. from Nargonne,

had the unfortunate idea of
going away for seven months.

When you returned, you
were six months pregnant.

Instead of challenging
the father of the

child who would bear
his name to a duel,

he preferred to kill himself.

His sense of honor kept
him from being cuckolded.

He had no money to save.

Only I have!

He spoke the old bookkeeper.

I would allow you
to make me hateful,

but I won't let you
expose me to ridicule.

Do with yourself what you
want, it's the same for me.

But I forbid you to ruin me!

Thanks for your punctuality.

It's been a long time since I've had
the happiness of finding her alone.

It took such a painful
circumstance to bring us together.

An atrocious occasion.

More than you think.

It's not impossible.

The Count of Monte-Cristo
couldn't have found anything

excavating the garden
of Auteuil's house

because there was nothing there.

But why deceive me?

- For what purpose, sir?
- I don't deceive you.

I have carried this
burden alone for 20 years.

I ask you now to share
it with me, Hermine.

The man who only hurt
me, thinking he would kill me,

took the chest where I
had placed our son's corpse.

Why did you take him?

For a terrible reason for us.

The child we thought
was dead was alive.

My killer saved her.

I brooded during the six months
I was between life and death.

When I was discharged,
I ran to the sink house

and I learned that
that night they left a

little boy there wrapped
in a linen swaddling

who had half a baron's
crown with the letter H.

Where is my son?

A woman had come to get him, taking
the other half of his swaddling clothes.

to attest to being the mother.

I searched for
it for a long time.

And now we have a serious lead.

Someone besides us
knows our son is alive.

Monte Cristo.

Monte Cristo?

Why else would he stage
that hideous comedy?

Why the strong allusions to the

red room and the
secret staircase?

Didn't she notice his eyes
while he was talking to us?

They were icy.

What do we do?

Everything within the
power of the royal attorney.

Within eight days,

I will know who
this Monte Cristo is.

Mr. Is Abbe Busoni at home?

Who should advertise?

An emissary from
the prefect of police.

Monsieur Abbé is in the library.

Mr. Abbé, we know you know

personally the Count
of Monte-Cristo.

Yes.

Monte-Cristo is the name of an island
that the Count owns in the Mediterranean.

And his nickname is...?

Zaccone.

He is the son of a very
wealthy Maltese shipowner.

I'm Sicilian.

I've known them
since I was a kid.

He looks very rich.

There is talk of three
or four million income,

which would be considerable.

It is possible.

Does this Zaccone, alias
Monte-Cristo, come to France often?

It is not the first time.

And since I spend
half my time in Paris,

I gave him the
information he wanted.

for my part,

I recommended Major
Cavalcanti and his son to him.

One last question I ask
you to answer, Mr. Abbe.

Do you know why the
Count of Monte-Cristo

bought a house in Auteuil?

Certainly.

Want to install a
psychiatric asylum

a bit like the one founded
by Count Pisani in Palermo.

It is a magnificent institution.

I thank you.

Please forgive me for bothering
you at ten in the morning

but i have a serious
problem since yesterday

and I really wanted
to open up to you.

Wasn't it you who told
me the other day that

young Cavalcanti wants
to get married in Paris?

When he marries his son,
he must give him something.

Of course it is.

Andrea will bring at least two
or three million to the wedding.

Because?

Are you interested, Baron?

It's not for Ms.
Danglers, I hope.

Andrea would be beheaded
by Albert de Morcerf.

You know that Morcerf...

Thinking well,

I would rather have Eugénie
become a Cavalcanti than a Morcerf.

Just imagine...

Just imagine that the
general was never called

Morcerf and that he is
as earl as I am baron.

Do not.

Are you sure?

Between us, we've known
each other for 30 years.

I was a simple bookkeeper and he
was a little fisherman from Marseilles.

His name was Fernand Mondego.

But that's not what worries me
when it comes to my daughter.

Ever heard of Ali-Tebelin?

Janina's pasha murdered
in Greece by the Turks.

Because.

Their accomplice is said to be

it was a certain Fernand.

That would be an
odd coincidence.

The best thing for you
would be to write Janina today.

There is little prudence
regarding the future of a daughter.

Thanks.

The grapes from France
don't compare to those from

Sicily or Cyprus but they
are still very good. taste.

Sorry, but I don't
eat anything sweet.

Prefer a peach? Are delicious.

There is an Arab custom

according to which those
who share bread and

salt under the same
roof remain friends for life.

We are in France, where there

is no custom of salt and bread.

But we're friends, aren't we?

Why wouldn't we?

Is what is said true?

Who has traveled a
lot around the world

and suffered a lot?

It is true.

In times

I loved a woman in Malta.

Then came the war
and took me in its turmoil.

I thought she loved me
enough to wait for me.

I was wrong.

She was married when I got back.

This is perhaps the
story of many men

when they are young.

Maybe I had a weak heart and
suffered so much because of it.

She's already dead.

Did you forgive this woman?

To her yes.

To those who separated me from her...

... never.

Now I replace your
dear grandfather.

I give you a kiss.

Sir...

He wrote to me about
this little girl's marriage.

with Mr. Franz d'Épinay?

Yes ma'am.

Is it an advantageous party?

The baron is one of the most
distinguished men I know.

Doesn't this alliance with the
granddaughter of a Bonapartist disgust you?

Do you know what has become of Mr.
Noirtier. He is nothing but a shadow.

Let's hasten this marriage, sir.

I feel like I have
little time to live.

I want a notary to make sure my

entire fortune
goes to Valentine.

Sure.

Calm down.

It's not a notary grandma
should call. He's a doctor.

It doesn't hurt me at all.

I'm just thirsty.

Give me a drink.

Let's prepare the
nuptial contract.

Notify Mr. d'Épinay.

If no one objects,

I would like everything
to be resolved in two days.

Maximilien...

My grandmother is dying
and demands that the

marriage contract be
signed tomorrow at 21:00.

Valentine,

the moment you marry
Franz d'Épinay, I'll kill myself.

Maximilien...

I swear it would be impossible for me to
live knowing that you belong to someone else.

- Goodbye, Valentine.
- Do not go.

I will only be yours.

So come, I'll take you.

At least wait until there
is no other way out.

I begged my father again, I'm
going to talk to my grandmother.

If you don't listen to
me and call the notary...

We both left.

Yes, I swear to you on my life.

I'm just yours.

Come here tomorrow before 21:00.

Either we'll be safe or...

Or well...?

Or I'll get lost with you.

I don't insinuate anything, Mr.
from Villefort. I assert.

Mrs. de Saint-Méran
was poisoned.

The poison would have
been strychnine or brucine.

You are wrong.

Unfortunately, my
friend, I am not mistaken.

- Yet...
- Yet?

If it's not a crime, maybe this
misfortune happened by accident.

- Like this?
- I treat Mr. Noirtier with brucine.

It may have been a
poorly cleaned glass.

In that case, watch
over your servants.

But if hatred and
interest are the cause,

watch your enemies.

What will you do?

You are the royal attorney.
It's up to you to act.

I'll keep quiet, but
look for the culprit.

How did you not show up

I dared to enter the
garden and was surprised...

I heard your servants comment...

Yes, my dear grandmother died.

Before she died, she ordered my

marriage to take place
as soon as possible.

Comes.
I have a friend in this house.

Grandfather, may I introduce
you to Maximilien Morrel.

Mr. Franz de Quesnel,
Baron d'Épinay?

It is me.

These gentlemen
are my witnesses.

I must warn Mr. Baron
that this marriage,

by decision of Mr.
Noirtier, entirely alienated

the fortune he was to leave his
granddaughter after her death.

For my part, I warn
Mr. d'Épinay that it was

impossible for me to
attack my father's will.

I regret that the issue was
raised in front of Ms. from Villefort.

Mr. Noirtier de
Villefort wishes to

speak now with
Mr. Franz d'Epinay.

- Now?
- Yes sir.

After the contract, if he wants to.
Immediately is impossible.

Mr. Noirtier
made it quite clear.

In case of refusal
of his request,

Mr. Noirtier will
be led to the salon.

It will be my pleasure to pay
my respects to Mr. Noirtier.

Come on.

Forgiveness.

Do you want Mr. d'Épinay
read this paper, grandfather?

"Extract from the minutes of the
Bonapartist Club of Rue Saint-Jacques"

"Meeting of February 5, 1815"

February 5, 1815...

It was on the night of the 5th to the 6th
of February that my father was murdered.

What's in the minutes? Speak.

Sir, I just learned
that my father,

whom the Bonapartists
thought were on his side,

he was summoned to
this meeting on 5 February.

He was informed of the usurper's
forthcoming return to France.

General de Quesnel, made
Baron d'Épinay by Louis XVIII,

declared as an honorable man
that he remained loyal to the King.

The club president, fearing
that General de Quesnel

would reveal Bonaparte's
escape from the island of Elba,

something my father
certainly wouldn't do,

the president
challenged him to a duel.

They knocked in the middle

of the night at Cais dos Olmos.

My father was killed in the dark.

It was no longer a
duel, it was a murder.

They threw his
corpse into the Seine.

I need to know the name
of the president of this

Bonapartist club, to finally
know who killed my father.

You?

Mr. Count of Monte Cristo.

Madam...

Mr. Cavalcanti, didn't the
ladies invite you to play with them?

Unfortunately, Ms.
Eugénie is in singing class.

Come on!

I admire my husband for
his strength of character.

Just this morning, he
learned of the bankruptcy of a

banker in Milan, which
made him lose 400,000 francs.

I trust Mr. Danglers.
He knows the bag well and will get it back.

Make a mistake.
He never played in the bag.

It is true.

I was told that you played
the game, Baroness.

I've lost my taste, actually.

Cavalcanti is a
charming young man.

But by the way, where does
the title of prince come from?

I assume from the same
source as your baronial title.

The Viscount of Morcerf.

Madam...

Mr. Baron...

- How is Ms. Danglers?
- It's great.

She plays some music
with Mr. Cavalcanti.

A charming duo.

She and the prince
get along beautifully.

Which prince?

Prince Cavalcanti, Viscount.

He is exquisite.

Congratulations, maiden.

Bravo, Prince.

- Mr. Baron, an urgent message.
- Excuse.

I may have something to convey to
you, Count. It's my mail from Greece.

How is King Otho?

The letter is not
about that, but its

content will make
certain people tremble.

You gave me excellent
advice, Mr. Count.

There is a horrible story
about these two names,

Fernando and Janina.

Congratulations.

I wish I was that good a shot
because I'm going to hit myself.

With whom?

Like Beauchamp.
Have you seen the newspaper?

"Write to us from Janina."

"A hitherto ignored fact
that has come down to us."

"The citadel of Janina was
handed over to the Turks"

"by the trusted man of
the vizier Ali-Tebelin,"

"a French officer
named Fernand."

And then?

My father fought alongside
Ali-Tebelin and his name is Fernand.

Maybe you're right.

There may be those who
see some unfortunate links.

Either Beauchamp
retracts or I kill him.

Do not.
He must inform himself first.

- Inform me? - Yea.

Look for Beauchamp
and talk to him

before sending
you his witnesses.

You're probably right.

Dear Albert, try to find
a place in this mess.

I come to talk about the newspaper.

I think this article deserves
at least one correction.

Is this officer your relative?

Yes. Your newspaper insults you.

I want a retraction
and I shall have it!

This officer is my
father, Fernand Mondego.

Earl of Morcerf.

Will you deny this slander?

Yes sure. As
soon as I'm sure the

accusation against
your father is false.

false? Are there any doubts?

Deny it, sir.

Deny it or we'll fight.

Now call me "sir"?
What does that mean?

Of course, it seems to me.

Here is my answer, dear sir.

This information will be refuted
or confirmed by the rightful person.

Then I will agree to
cut my throat with you, if

you consider that your
father's honor demands it.

Let him come in.

Come in, Prince.

It is always a
pleasure to receive

your visit, whatever the reason.

Mr. Baron, since
my father's departure

I've found a second
family in his house.

It is true. I
discovered under your

roof all the happiness
I dreamed of

and this even before being
restrained by the violence of passion.

As far as passion is concerned,
I was lucky to find it, I believe.

Italians in a nutshell.

They always know how to
talk about the things of the heart

in more beautiful ways
than we poor Nords.

But what passion is this?

The one I nourish
for Mna. Danglers.

In short, she's asking me
for my daughter's hand.

In short, yes, Mr. Baron.

This proposal honors me, sir.

But I'll be direct, the
worst of my qualities.

Can we talk about
the interests involved?

My daughter is my only heir.

I will give her when she gets
married the sum of 500,000 francs

and that jewel that
belonged to the queen.

It will also be a wedding gift
and is worth twice as much.

He asked me to marry
him and I wonder...

...and on her side?

My father decided to give me an
annual pension of 150,000 francs

from my wedding day.

But I think he will also give
me the capital of 3 million.

Plus the 2 million
from my mother,

the marquise Olivia Corsinari.

Maybe I should trust him with
everything to make him surrender.

Of course it is.

I normally give 3.5%, but
my son-in-law will give 5%.

And we will share the
profits from operations.

It will be wonderful, dear father-in-law.
Sorry, "sir".

But can I hope?

As far as I'm concerned,
Mr. Andrea, it's a closed deal.

He has before him the
happiest man in the world.

What did you come here to do?

Give you a hug, kid.

Very good. Beautiful print.

What do you want, Mr. Caderousse?

Do you no longer call me by you?

When I think about what
we shared in Toulon prison...

We were even chained
to the same fetter.

Shut up!

Scared you?

Tonight I'm busy.

I'll wait for you at 10:00 at
Rua de Ménilmontant, nº 11.

Ask for Mr. Pailletin.

An honest baker
who left the oven.

It is me.

I count on you, my prince.

Here is Mr. Pailletin,
my handsome young man.

You're punctual.

Very good.

He's calm, kid.

Calm.

See what I prepared for you.

do you remember?

You loved my cooking in the hut.

Go to the Devil plus the hut.
Do not bother me.

Boy!

You've come a long way since you
got rid of the number on your coat.

The 59.

I remember well.

Especially since mine
had the number 58.

You hang out with the
richest men in Paris.

They say you're hanging around the
daughter of the rogue Baron Danglars.

You...

... Prince Benedetto.

What is your protector called?

Count of Monte Cristo.

A man who doesn't
know his fortune.

You should see his house
on the Champs Elysees.

There's so much
money it looks like

apples in an orchard
after a windy night.

You haven't lost your
hand, Caderousse.

AND...

It is not...

... at number 30 of Campos Elísios
where your Monte-Cristo lives?

How long have you
been spying on me?

A week ago.

Then you must have
seen me go to Auteuil.

This house is also his.

Tomorrow he spends the night
there and takes all the servants.

And the house on the Champs Elysées?

Is it empty?

Yes.

Just yesterday I told him that one
of these days he's being robbed.

Do you know what he answered me?

"What difference does it
make to me if they rob me?"

Your life is done, bastard!

Tell me all this,

to your poor old
fellow in misery.

Wait, let me dream a little.

The home of the Champs Elysées...

... how is it inside?

I'm not good at descriptions,

but with paper and ink I can
try to make you a schematic.

Go make me a drawing.

Mr. Count...

Mr. Count forgive me,
but this just arrived and

the carrier said it was
urgent and important.

"Mr. de Monte-Cristo is warned"

"that a man will enter your house
on the Champs Elysees tonight."

"Mr. Count is brave"

"to do justice without
alerting the police."

"Evident precautions would
ward off the wrongdoer."

"Chance enabled the sender to
discover this abominable plan."

Good night Sir. Caderousse.

What bad winds bring you?

Abbe Busoni!

It's always the
same, Mr. Assassin.

Do not.

Killer, no.

Yes.

I heard you murdered a
jeweler from Beaucaire

who sought to sell a diamond

bequeathed to him through me.

A disgraced prisoner.

It wasn't me who killed
the jeweler, it was my wife.

He was recognized at the trial.

So much so that they only
sentenced me to the galleys.

In perpetual, but here
I meet him in Paris.

You are an outlaw.

Mr. Abbé saved me once.

Save me again.

The Lord...

...call the guard?

I'm not alone.

Tell me the truth
and I'll let you go.

How did he manage
to escape from prison?

Thanks to an
Englishman, Lord Wilmore.

He protected my
fellow in fetter,

a young Corsican
named Benedetto.

He got us the
material for the escape.

And what becomes of Benedetto?

Today he is known
as Prince Cavalcanti.

Yes.

He is the young man who must
marry the daughter of Danglars.

Yes, he is.

It is my duty to
warn Mr. Danglers.

You won't say anything, Abbé!

Break my arm.

Pity!

Dear God, what
strong hands you have!

Caluda.

come on.

He writes.

"To Mr. Baron Danglars"

"The young man who
must marry his daughter"

"is an escaped convict"

- Slower.
- "is an escaped convict"

- "that should"?
- "marry your daughter"

"is an escaped convict"

"from Toulon Prison"

"with the number"

- "from Toulon"?
- "from Toulon with the number"...

59.

"His name is Benedetto."

sign.

Do you want to disgrace me?

sign.

When the baron reads this note

You will surely have
nothing more to fear.

Now go out the way you came in.

Are you going to attack me from behind?

You would certainly do that.

listen.

If you get home safe and sound

I will believe that
God has forgiven you

and wherever you are, I will
give you something to live on.

Now disappear.

Relief!

Hill!

Benedetto...

Relief! Assassin!

Go call the police.

Mr. Abbe...

A doctor...

Hill.

They've already gone looking.

I know who murdered me.
I recognized him.

Benedetto.

It's the life you give me, Mr. Abbe.

I will write your statement.

You will sign.

God has not forgiven
you, Caderousse.

Did you know he was going to kill me?

God's justice is impassive
and has eternity on its side.

She hits every scoundrel
the moment she decides.

Caderousse,

one drunken afternoon you
betrayed one of your best friends.

God still sent you a fortune

and you tried to
duplicate it with a murder.

Benedetto is a
murderer and yet...

Benedetto will pay like everyone else.

As for you,

God grant you a few
seconds to repent.

I don't believe in God.

Do you want proof that
God exists, Caderousse?

Watch.

Who are you?

What about?

I'm...

... Edmond Dantès.

Lord, I believe in You!

My God...

I believe in you.

One.