25.000
Idiots.
Take the captain beyond the reef till we get permission to bring him ashore.
For a moment I thought you were abandoning me.
Fernand Mondego does not abandon his friends in the face of stupid, suicidal danger.
If we don't get him to a doctor, he will die.
- Do you understand? - Of course I understand.
- Just don't expect me to do this sober. - Right.
English dragoons.
Hello!
Dantes, don't.
- A little careless, don't you think? - We have to talk to someone.
Well, I know, but...
We're French sailors!
- We seek medical attention! - Come on. Come on.
- We come in peace. - Edmond, come on!
- We mean no harm! - Edmond!
Come on! Climb!
Look out!
Fernand!
Lieutenant Graypool.
If your thirst for gore demands the death of these poor fools...
then by all means shoot them.
But do so with the knowledge they are no agents of mine.
Now explain yourselves or be shot.
Sir, I am Edmond Dantes...
second mate of the merchant ship Pharaon, on our way home to Marseilles.
This is the shipowner's representative, Monsieur Fernand Mondego...
son of the Count Mondego.
Our captain has contracted brain fever, so we put in here for help.
If his coma is genuine, he won't feel my knife point, will he?
Only a scratch.
Edmond!
- Lieutenant Graypool! - We came to you in good faith!
- That's for my wounded men. - And wounded pride, no doubt.
It has been an eventful evening.
If I hadn't have shot those dragoons, you might by lying in pieces on the beach right now.
- I almost got us killed. - Yes, you did.
Yet, we survive.
King's to you, Mondego.
Being your friend is always an adventure.
Yes, it is, isn't it?
It's a pity adventurers can't always be friends though, huh?
What?
Well, it won't always be like this, will it?
- What are you talking about? - Nothing. Drink up.
We're drinking Napoleon Bonaparte's wine.
As long as you're still awake, Monsieur Dantes...
I wonder if I might have a word with you.
Oh, it's just something we've done since childhood.
Um, whenever one of us has had a victory, king of the moment.
- King of the moment? - Yes.
In life, we're all either kings or pawns.
I'm moved by your effort to save your captain's life, Dantes.
He is my captain and my friend, Your Majesty.
Loyal friends are rare indeed.
In fact, it is upon such a matter I wish to speak.
I have written a rather sentimental letter to an old comrade in Marseilles.
It's a side of me I prefer the British not see.
And since they have a habit of opening my mail...
I wonder if you would deliver it for me.
Oh, l-I don't...
It's just a letter from one old soldier to another.
It's totally innocent, I assure you.
But more important, it is the price I demand for the use of my physician.
- Then I agree. - Good.
You are to deliver the letter to Monsieur Clarion.
- Can you remember that name? - Monsieur Clarion.
Now, I do not wish this letter's existence to be known to anyone else.
Not even your boon companion back there. Do you understand?
I'm a man of my word, Your Majesty.
Yes, l, uh... I believe you are.
What did he want?
Oh, um, news from France. That's all.
Time you were on your way. Your captain has been dead for half an hour.
Are you sure?
you can feel death.
Kings and pawns, Marchand.
Emperors and fools.
Come about! Come about!
Drive faster.
Danglars, what's happened?
Captain Reynaud is dead, sir...
and Edmond Dantes disobeyed my orders.
Will you be needing me, Monsieur Morell?
Go.
Mercedes.
- Where is he? Where is Edmond? - How lovely to see you too.
You just missed him, I'm afraid.
Could be a while. I think he's in trouble.
He said he'd meet us by the rock. Come on.
I told Dantes not to go ashore.
Is this true?
I accept all responsibility.
As well you should. It was all his idea, monsieur.
It should have been your idea.
Puttin' into Elba didn't save the captain's life, monsieur.
- I was protectin' the merchandise. - You were protecting yourself...
by hiding behind your rank and staying aboard.
Edmond Dantes, I am making you the new captain of the Pharaon.
You presume to demote me?
There is no demotion.
Unless, of course, you choose to seek another berth.
Now I imagine there's a certain young lady...
who will want to hear this news.
Thank you.
Monsieur Morell?
I understand you had a ship just returned from Elba, monsieur.
- Yes. - Did anyone aboard...
get ashore there by any chance?
They did, but they're not here at the moment.
Thank you, monsieur.
- May I say who has called upon them? - Clarion.
The name is Clarion.
- Make love to me. - Will you ever give up?
- He doesn't have to know. - I'd know.
So would I.
- It'd be our little secret. - I don't believe in secrets.
You think Edmond doesn't have secrets? He does. Ask him.
- I know what you want, Fernand. - You do?
Remember when we were little kids and Edmond got that whistle for his birthday, and you got a pony?
Well, you were so mad that Edmond was happier with his whistle than you were with your pony.
And I'm not going to be your next whistle.
How long do you think it's gonna be before he can afford a wife?
Two years. Two years. That's all.
Then he gets his captain's papers, and we can marry.
Two years. I couldn't wait two years for anything...
particularly a bride like you.
Hey!
- There he is. - Hey!
- Whoo! - Mercedes!
I missed you so.
The missing is over now.
- Are you in trouble? - No. I'm captain. Come on.
Monsieur Morell gave me the Pharaon.
Edmond!
King's to me.
Yours is a life truly blessed, Edmond.
Come on.
- You're still the best man. - I know.
Come on!
Stop that. You'll go bald.
- Do you keep secrets from me? - Secrets? No.
Why?
Ask me anything and I'll tell you.
We don't have to wait two years any more.
- As soon as I can afford the ring, we'll wed... - I don't need a ring. I don't.
This will be my ring. And no matter what happens...
Ever.
Care to join me?
So tell me, Mondego...
how did you ever become friends...
with that righteous little ponce, Edmond Dantes?
He claims to be my friend...
yet he has the audacity to keep secrets from me.
What secrets?
To the new captain of the Pharaon.
All I am I owe to you, Father.
May this happy moment be but the dawn...
of a long and wonderful life for you both.
- Which of you is Edmond Dantes? - I am.
Edmond Dantes, you are under arrest by order of the magistrate of Marseilles.
- Arrest? - On what charges?
That information is privileged. Take him.
I demand an explanation. I demand an explanation!
I'll be back tonight. Don't worry, Father. This is a mistake.
Well, I must say, Dantes, you don't have the look of a traitor.
Traitor?
Now, attend me well, Dantes, for your life may depend on it.
Did you have any personal contact with Napoleon when you were on Elba?
Elba, yes, I did. Well, we did.
I was with the Count Mondego's son, Fernand, almost the entire time.
- Do you know Fernand? - He's a recent acquaintance, yes.
Oh, there you are. H-He'll vouch for me.
No doubt, but you said, "almost the entire time."
Except for when Napoleon...
asked me to deliver a personal letter to a friend in Marseilles.
Well, Dantes, it is for accepting that treasonous correspondence...
- What? - Now, did you deliver the letter?
It's... It's still in my jacket. Here.
- Have you read this? - No, sir, l-I can't read.
Well, Dantes, this is a letter to one of Napoleon's agents.
It gives the times and the locations of the British beach patrols on Elba.
Sir, I swear on my mother's grave, I had no idea.
He swore its contents were innocent.
No.
It's you that's innocent.
Foolish and innocent.
I believe these are the worst charges that could be levelled against you.
Fortunately, as I've intercepted this document, there's no harm done.
God knows how you're going to survive in this world, Edmond Dantes.
But you are no traitor.
You may go.
Thank you, sir.
Wait, uh, did Napoleon tell you who's supposed to pick up the letter?
Monsieur Clarion.
What... What name did you say?
Monsieur Clarion.
Have you mentioned this name to anyone else?
Monsieur Mondego or anyone?
No, sir. In fact, Monsieur Mondego knows nothing of this letter.
This is very dangerous information.
One can never be too careful in times like this.
- Don't you think? - Yes, sir.
Mm-hmm.
I've given you rather a stressful time.
I wonder if, by way of an apology, I could offer you my carriage home.
It's just through here.
Thank you.
Monsieur Villefort? Monsieur Villefort?
Monsieur Villefort!
Whoa. Whoa!
Where are you taking me?
This is a mistake.
I'm allowed to go home.
From now on, your home is the prison Chateau d'lf.
No! No!
Hey!
Shoot him now!
Mount up! Get after him!
Fernand!
- Fernand! - Monsieur?
It's all right. He's right here. Fernand!
I've been arrested for treason. I barely managed to escape.
When we were on Elba, Napoleon gave me a letter.
I didn't tell you because he made me promise not to.
He said it was just some note to an old friend.
But the bastard lied to me! He lied.
It was to one of his agents.
Uh, somehow the authorities found out. I don't... I don't know what to do.
There's gendarmes on horseback right behind me.
- All right. We just have to think. - I hope I haven't compromised you.
- I was hoping your father could help me. - He's in Paris. He's very ill.
- How far back are the gendarmes? - Minutes.
- Do you need money? - Yes, thank you.
- Do you have a pistol? - Of course not. - Good.
Stop it, Fernand. I don't have time for this.
I saw Napoleon give you that letter.
- It was you? - Well, it wasn't just me.
Well, why did you keep it a secret from me?
- I thought you were my friend. - I told you I gave Napoleon my word.
He lied to me!
I know, Edmond. I read the letter.
You... You read...
Why are you doing this?
Oh, it's complicated.
Complicated.
Don't be ridiculous.
- Get out of my way. - I can't let you go, Edmond.
Get away from the window.
Don't make me take off your hand!
Why? In God's name, why?
Because you're the son of a clerk!
And I'm not supposed to want to be you.
- In here! - In here!
- Get! - Wait.
Hold it. Hold it.
To remember better days.
Come on!
I told you it wasn't always gonna be this way, Edmond.
Father!
- Where is he? - The study.
- Wh-What's he done now? - Now, you listen to me, Father.
And I cannot afford to have my own father mixed up in treasonous affairs!
You know...
in the end, treason is a matter of dates.
And I shall be the patriot...
and you the traitor, when the emperor returns.
Stop it. Stop it, you old ruin. Those days are over.
Napoleon Bonaparte is no longer the emperor of anything.
And if you continue to dabble in this lunacy...
you run an excellent chance of being arrested and ruining our entire family...
- All because of your idiotic sympathies. - At least I have sympathies.
For God's sake, Father, all Valentina is saying...
is that as a family, our fates are intertwined.
- Surely you can see that. - See? Ah!
I'm an old ruin.
I don't see as well as I did. You will excuse me.
Move it.
Move.
Welcome, Monsieur Dantes.
I am Armand Dorleac, the warden of Chateau d'lf.
Monsieur, I know you must hear this a great deal...
but I assure you I am innocent.
Everyone must say that, I know, but I truly am.
- Innocent. - Yes.
I know. I really do know.
- You mock me? - No, my dear Dantes.
I know perfectly well that you are innocent.
Why else would you be here?
If you were truly guilty...
there are a hundred prisons in France where they would lock you away...
but Chateau d'lf is where they put the ones they're ashamed of.
Let's have a look at your quarters now, shall we?
"God will give me justice."
People are always trying to motivate themselves.
Or they keep calendars, but soon they lose interest or they die.
There's a window.
And all I'm left with is a rather unsightly wall, I'm afraid.
So I conceived of another way to help our prisoners keep track of time.
Every year, on the anniversary of their imprisonment...
we hurt them.
Usually just a simple beating, really.
I like to do something rather special.
And if you're thinking just now, "Why me, O God? "
- The answer is... - All right?
God has nothing to do with it.
In fact, God is never in France this time of year.
God has everything to do with it. He's everywhere. He sees everything.
All right.
Let's make a bargain, shall we?
You ask God for help, and I'll stop the moment he shows up.
Monsieur Villefort, have you not heard?
- Napoleon has escaped from Elba! - What?
Landed 1 00 miles from here. He marches on Paris!
We are here to plead the case...
- Of Edmond Dantes, Magistrate. - Not now! Dantes?
We have not met, monsieur.
I am Fernand Mondego, the son of Count Mondego.
And I am here to swear to Edmond Dantes's innocence.
Edmond Dantes is charged with high treason.
- Yet you stand by him? - Of course I do.
What if I was to tell you that Dantes is also charged with murder?
- Murder? - Edmond would never do such a thing.
Dantes carried a letter from Napoleon to one of his agents...
and when we tried to arrest him, he killed one of my men.
No, if you knew him, monsieur, you would know that was not possible.
- Have mercy, please. - You have proof of this treason?
- Well, that is government business. - Please.
Please, just tell us where he is.
I cannot, mademoiselle. He was handed over to the king's men.
I can understand your pain at this betrayal.
But my advice to all of you would be to forget Edmond Dantes...
particularly you, mademoiselle.
Take solace in the comfort of your good friend here...
and perhaps some good may yet come of this unhappy affair.
Now, you will excuse me. I have to attend some other matters.
- My son is no traitor! - I will try to reason with him further.
- Safely leave this to Fernand. - Never. It's impossible.
- He can plead the case. - Never.
I will not give up on Edmond yet.
I will never forget your kindness.
And I shall never cease to give it.
Not that I don't appreciate the embroidery of the crimes...
but still, murder?
It's quite simple really.
When you reported Dantes' receiving the letter to me...
I didn't quite understand why you were betraying him.
What prompts you to be so accommodating?
Sit down, Mondego.
No!
Come back!
What's my crime? What's my crime?
I'm innocent!
Happy anniversary, Dantes.
Until next year.
Has it really been four years, Delius?
Or Danton? What is his name again?
Forgive my intrusion.
But I was under the impression that l...
I was digging toward the outer wall.
I am Abbe Faria.
I have been a prisoner in Chateau d'lf for 1 1 years.
Five which have been spent...
digging this tunnel.
There are 72,51 9 stones in my walls.
I've counted them many times.
But have you named them yet?
Once I was as you are now.
But I promise, it will pass.
I promise, I promise. Now...
may I stand on your shoulders?
Take me down.
Please, take me down now. Take me down.
I have not seen the sky these 1 1 years. Thank you.
Thank you, God.
There is no talk of God in here, Priest.
What about the inscription?
It's faded, just as God has faded from my heart.
- And what has replaced it? - Revenge.
Hold these.
Follow me.
Perhaps your thoughts of revenge...
are serving God's purpose of keeping you alive these seven years.
- To what end? - Escape.
There we go.
You spoke of escape.
Yeah.
There are only two possibilities of reaching the outer wall...
I simply... I simply chose the wrong one.
Now, of course, with two of us, we could dig in the opposite direction.
And with both of us together, then, of course, we could possibly do it in, um...
oh, eight years.
Oh, does something else demand your time?
Some pressing appointment, perhaps?
In return for your help, I offer something priceless.
My freedom?
No, freedom can be taken away, as you well know.
I offer knowledge, everything I have learned.
I will teach you, oh, economics, mathematics...
- Philosophy, science. - To read and write?
Of course.
When do we start?
I got it. I got it.
Lights out. Lights.
- Let's have 'em. Come on. - The slot opens twice a day.
Once for your toilet bucket, which is where we hide the dirt.
Come on.
And once in the evening for your plate.
Lights out. Out.
Come on, Priest.
Thank you.
Between those times we can work all day without fear of discovery.
"So neglect becomes...
our ally."
Excellent.
So you were in Napoleon's army.
We had such dreams then.
However, one night...
my regiment ran down...
a band of guerrillas...
who ran into a church for sanctuary.
I was ordered to burn down the church...
with them inside it.
Did you?
To my everlasting shame, I did.
I did.
How did you come to be here?
The following day I deserted...
to devote my life to repentance and to God.
I worked as private secretary to...