My dear wife, as the ancient saying goes...
"In wine is truth!"
Insincerity, the mark of a drunkard!
If you could or would for one brief moment...
shut that vast, resounding chasm...
of a mouth, I should be grateful, madam.
What care you for the deprivations...
I have suffered in the name of marriage?
O mariage de convenance.
O cant, O guile, O mockery!
Oh, shut up.
Oh, how can you insult me so?
Very easily, madam.
I have but to listen to your fatuous brain.
Do you hear his churlish insults, Father?
Father!
Huh? What? What?
Sugar? Yes, here you are.
Oh, whatever possessed me to marry you?
That is a question I often inquire of myself, madam...
to which there is no satisfactory answer...
save one, perhaps, and that is that no one else would have you.
Only a man who drinks could talk like that.
We escape the unendurable however we can.
How I despise you!
Poor, abused Amaryllis.
You never cared a fig for me.
You only courted me to gain control of father's business.
What other reason could there be?
Oh! Did you hear that?
Does he ever?
Father!
Huh? What? Huh?
I gave the sugar to you once.
There!
Shall I give him some medicine?
Pretty close.
Merely for purposes of enlightenment, Mr. Trumbull.
I could have been the greatest opera singer in the world.
What world?
Would the vocal emissions of a laryngitic crow...
be qualifications?
Yes, then perhaps, you could have been.
What know you of art and beauty?
Tosspot, soak, inebriate!
Your mouth, madam.
Shut it!
Anybody could be proud to rest in this coffin.
You can't even keep our heads above water!
Why, you've only had one customer in the past 9 months.
My father had a thriving undertaking business...
until you proceeded to get ahold of it...
and run it into the ground!
Where else?
A thriving business.
The receipts of which he used...
to cram this house with monstrosities!
If my father chose to spend his hard-earned profits...
in the collection of curious objects...
He did more than collect curious objects, madam.
He also fathered one.
I despise you!
Demon rum will get you yet!
I look forward to that day with keen anticipation, madam.
Oh, what I wouldn't do to get her down here as a customer.
Good afternoon, Mr. Tremble.
Trumbull!
Will you learn to pronounce my name correctly?
I said Mr. Tremble.
What in the name of all that's holy is that thing?
This?
This is the new coffin.
I don't like to see anybody buried naked.
I don't... I just don't...
No one in their right mind would be caught dead in that thing.
My coffin.
How gratifying, Mr. Gillie...
to have a master craftsman in one's employ.
Well, I'm going out and drink myself...
into a state of stupefaction.
Mr. Trumbull.
Oh, how do you do, Mr. Black?
How nice to see you, sir.
That remains to be seen, sir.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a singularly pressing...
A boon, sir.
A trifling matter of a year's rent in arrears.
Has it been a year?
Each and every unpaid day of it.
Well, what do you know about that?
And much as I regret to dun you, dear sir...
it is unhappily incumbent upon me...
as owner of these premises...
to regard your monetary dereliction as...
shall we say, inconvenient to my purposes.
Oh, well, now I...
So vastly inconvenient, one might add...
that should the debt remain outstanding...
for as much as 24 hours more...
I fear that... legal machinery must...
perforce, be set in motion.
And Messrs. Hinchley and Trumbull...
face the incommodious prospect...
of taking up residence in the street.
In the street?
Have I expressed myself with clarity, Mr. Trumbull?
With extreme clarity, Mr. Black.
Then we are of one mind...
Our mutual interests in accord.
24 hours, Mr. Trumbull.
Good day to you, sir.
Good day to you...
you penny-pinching old pig.
Mr. Trumbull?
And as for you, you sniveling...
To forego the glories of an operatic career for him.
No, no, Cleopatra.
No, no, sweetheart.
Oh, I came up here to...
to get a glass of water.
If... if he continues mistreating you like that, I'll...
I wouldn't know what to do.
Beautiful.
Will you stop that ungodly caterwauling!
Must have been an earthquake.
Mr. Gillie!
In the parlor.
Drunk again, huh?
John Barleycorn and Hinchley.
They're the partners in this business.
Time for your medicine, old man.
Oh, thank you. Thank you.
Father!
Do you really think I'm going to let you poison my own father?
Hope springs eternal in the human... yes.
Why do you always take my medicine away?
Don't you care nothing about my health?
Yes, sit down, Mr. Gillie.
Comfortable, Mr. Gillie?
Well, Mr. Gillie...
I am afraid that it is...
decision time.
Decision time?
Yes, Mr. Gillie.
Business being, once more on the trembling verge of ruin...
it behooves us to acquire a bit of income.
Therefore, Mr. Gillie, it is necessary that we...
venture forth tonight.
Not so soon again!
Yes, so soon again, Mr. Gillie.
What if I refuse?
If you refuse, Mr. Gillie...
which possibility I find most remote...
however, if you refuse, Mr. Gillie...
the local constabulary shall forthwith be apprised...
of sundry illicit peccadilloes...
in which one Mr. "G" has been involved.
Peccadilloes?
What if I tell them the truth?
And tell them that it was your idea in the first place?
Mr. Gillie...
Felix...
Friend...
I put it to you.
Who, in your discerning estimation...
do you think they're most likely to believe?
Mr. W. Trumbull, respected citizen...
and entrepreneur of death...
or Mr. Felix Gillie...
wanted fugitive and confessed bank robber?
I've never confessed!
They just proved it.
One of these days...
One of these days, I...
One of these days what, Mr. Gillie?
Nothing.
Exactly, Mr. Gillie.
Nothing.
Shall we say...
...midnight?
Midnight it is.
All right.
You are most accommodating, Mr. Gillie.
Until midnight, then.
He's a perfectly delightful old gentleman.
Owns a fleet of merchant vessels operating out of Boston.
He and I enjoyed a most delightful afternoon...
of conversation together at the White Bull Tavern.
Later on, I walked him home.
Lives in a marvelous old house out there on Winkle Road.
Wait till you see it!
Well, come on.
- I have an idea. - What?
I'll wait for you right here.
Mr. Gillie, without your cunning fingers...
how should I gain entrance?
Come on!
All right.
Get to work.
You know, the next time they catch me with these tools...
it'll be 30 years.
It's no wonder they caught you the last time.
You're probably the most inept...
house breaker in all of New England.
That's true.
Did you try the knob?
No, why?
Quiet.
Quiet, quiet.
Pardon me.
Quiet!
I didn't mean to do it.
If they didn't hear that, they must all be as deaf as old Hinchley.
I didn't mean to.
Come on.
I don't like this.
What are you doing?
- Quiet. Get up. - My foot...
- Get up. - Your foot, my fingers.
Get up.
Come on.
If you make one more sound...
Now, you sit there, Mr. Gillie...
and don't you make a sound, Mr. Gillie.
As a matter of fact, don't you even breathe, Mr. Gillie.
Do you understand me?
Exactly.
I shall return presently.
Fait accompli, Monsieur Gillie.
The stream flowed, lapping, lapping...
and the leaves stirred, tapping, tapping...
and the ancient belle dames napping.
Dreamed of gently rapping, rapping.
Rapping gently with a hammer on a baby's skull.
Asleep yet, Mr. Gillie?
How can I sleep when I know what you've done?
A little medicinal nip?
No, thank you.
More's the pity.
And a white brooch...
Well, thus we end our lonely vigil, Mr. Gillie.
Forward!
Forward?
Dear child.
Dear child, what is amiss?
Oh, sir, my master has, to all appearances...
succumbed in his sleep, and I must run to fetch the doctor.
Oh, cataclysmic circumstance.
Perhaps I can be of assistance.
Oh, sir, could you?
Well, I believe I could.
Take me to your mistress.
Oh, yes, sir. Thank you.
Oh, not at all, my dear. Not at all.
It is my pleasure to help.
Hinchley and Trumbull are always at your beck and call.
I am afraid, madam, that he has made...
his final crossing to that Gidgeon shore.
What?
He's dead.
Allow me, madam, in this moment...
of your most desolate bereavement...
to lift from your sorrow-laden shoulders...
the burdensome tasks of exequy and sepulture.
What?
I'll bury him for you.
For by the most coincidental of vicissitudes, madam...
I happen to be the owner and director...
of a local funeral parlor.
You are?
Yes, indeed.
As we like to say to those we serve...
"When loved ones lie on the lonely couch...
"of everlasting sleep...
"let Hinchley and Trumbull draw the covenant."
How tender.
Yes, isn't it?
Remove the carcass.
Where in the name of blue blazes is she?
Play! Go on.
Now?
No, not now, you old fool!
We have to wait for the damned widow to get here.
Huh, what?
Oh, yes, yes.
He does look very natural.
Oh, I'm sorry, sir.
Never mind.
Is your mistress here?
No, sir. No one is.
What?
What's happened?
Where is the widow Phipps?
Gone to Boston, sir... with everything.
She's going to live in Europe.
Europe?
Yes, sir.
She's discharged all the servants.
They've all gone home but me.
And she left nothing?
- Sir? - No money?
Not a penny, sir.
Well, what about my fee?
Oh, sir, I don't know.
She didn't even pay me my wages.
Is there no morality left in this world?
Don't you think you've had eno...
Shut your mouth.
Women!
As soon put your trust in them as put a pistol to your head.
- You really... - Be still!
Old Ben Johnson, buried standing up.
Can't trust anybody these days.
The world is full of knaves and felons.
Don't you think that you're being overly...
Be silent!
Edward III...
buried with his horse.
Just because one customer...
Are you gonna shut your mouth or not?
- Mr. Tremble. - Trumbull!
I said Mr. Tremble.
Well?
Pardon me.
Alexander the Great, embalmed in honey, so they say.
Egyptians used to hollow 'em out and pour 'em full of resin.
Will you shut the old goat up?
Don't you dare refer to my father...
And you shut up, too.
Egyptians used to bend 'em in two...
and stick 'em in a vase of salt water.
Father.
And give 'em false eyes.
Father, please.
- Medicine old man? - Don't you dare!
Yank their brains out with a hook.
- Father! - Huh? What? Huh?
Oh, there you are.
You're eatin' much too much sugar.
You know that, don't you?
My medicine!
I'll have you arrested.
Mr. Gillie?
In the parlor.
Excuse me.
Of course.
There you go, keeping my medicine away from me again.
I don't believe you care...
whether your poor old father lives or dies.
- Do you want me? - Yes, Mr. Gillie.
We are going out again tonight, Mr. Gillie.
- Tonight? - Yes, I said tonight.
- Tonight? - Don't try to argue with me.
- I said tonight! - Tonight?
What if the same thing happens...
that happened to us the other night?
Well, it's never happened before, has it?
But what if it does happen?
Are we going to go out another night and another night...
and look for another man and another...
We'll pick someone who isn't married, Mr. Gillie.
And how are you going to do that?
Wake up everybody before you do that horrible thing to him...
and ask him whether he's married?
Or are you just going to kill off any old man...
that comes your way?
Mr. Trumbull, sir, Mr. Black wanted...
"Dear sir...
"If total payment for the past year's rent...
"is not received by morning...
"I shall instigate proceedings for eviction.
"Signed John F. Black, Esquire."
Mr. Black.
Precisely, Mr. Gillie.
To paraphrase the venerable adage...
we shall kill 2 birds with one pillow.
We just can't go on like this forever.
Oh, nonsense, Mr. Gillie.
This is a sizable community...
with more than an adequate supply of...
of customers.
Take Mr. Black, for instance.
He's a widower and therefore no risk
of a mercenary widow bolting with a plunder of inheritance.
And besides, with him, there's a double profit.
The only thing that bothers me...
is why I never thought of it before.
There must be a little more honest way...
to conduct a funeral business.
I might expect that kind of talk from a criminal.
Stop.
Whoa! Whoa!
Having a little trouble, Mr. Gillie?
This dirty lock was never made for picking.
Then why don't you take an ax and chop it open?
Nobody, but nobody, tells Gillie what to do with locks.
No, I take it back.
What you need is a keg of gunpowder.
Hey, I have an idea.
Maybe there's a bolt on the inside.
There's a bolt on the inside of your head, Mr. Gillie,
and it's loose.
But that has nothing to do with doors.
Then what about the front door?
Certainly that has a bolt, too.
Then try the windows.
All these windows?
That is not my specialty.
It's an order, Mr. Gillie.
All right. I'll try.
Well?
It's impossible to get inside.
Even the windows?
Every one of them has a bolt.
Why, of all the distrustful...
Well, I will not be denied.
Mr. Tremble...
Trumbull.
Mr. Tremble, I know, but what are you going to do?
Fly down the chimney?
None of your sauce, Mr. Gillie.
Thinks he can keep me out, does he?
You're positive about the front door?
Positive.
And the windows are all bolted?
Bolted.
You refer, of course, to the downstairs windows?
What?
What do you mean by "downstairs windows?"
Are you thinking of...
I think you are thinking of...
- No. - Yes.
No, no.
Ascend, Mr. Gillie.
Well, don't caress it, Mr. Gillie. Climb it.
We're not doing very well, are we, Mr. Gillie?
I told you I was not very good in climbing.
You're not very good at anything...
are you, Mr. Gillie, unless it's bungling.
Get up!
It's not my fault...
that all the doors and windows are closed.
Shut up!
Here.
Thank you, Mr. Tremble, thank you.
What did you step in?
Well, clean your boots off, for pity's sake.
I tried.
Couldn't you get somebody else?
No, I have my heart set on Black.
Now, come. Let's try again.
All right, I'll try, but I can't promise.
Now grab the roof.
What do you think I'm... I'm trying to do?
Well, do it before you break my back.
Here I go.
Well, go then!
Planning to spend the night up there, are you?
Definitely not.
I don't think this is a good idea.
Go on!
Go on, get on up there.
Why did I ever escape from prison?
It was so peaceful there.
You're gonna open that door for me if it takes you all night.
"Turn, hell-hound, turn!
"Of all men else I have avoided thee:
"but get thee back;
"my soul is too much charged with blood of thine already.
"I have no words: my voice is in my sword:
"thou bloodier villain than terms can give thee out!
"Thou losest labor:
"as easy mayst thou the intrenchant air...
"that thy keen blade impress as make me bleed:
"let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
"I bear a charmed life...
"that must not yield, to one of woman born.
"Despair thy charm;
"and let the angel whom thou still hast served...
"tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb untimely ripp'd."
"Accursed be that tongue that tells me so...
"for it hath cow'd my better part of man!
"And be these juggling fiends no more believed...
"that palter with us in a double sense..."
Come on, go to sleep.
"And break it to our hope.
"I'll not fight with thee.
"Then yield thee, coward, and live to be the show...
"and gaze o' the time:
"we'll have thee as our rarer monsters are...
"painted upon a pole and underwrit...
"'Here may you see the tyrant.'
"I will not yield...
"to kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet...
"and to be baited with the rabble's curse."
Crazy as a bedbug.
"Though Birnam Wood be come to Dunsinane...
"and thou opposed, being of no woman born...
"yet will I try the last.
"Before my body I throw my warlike shield.
"Lay on, Macduff, and damn'd be he who first cries...
"'Hold, enough!"'
Have at you, sir!
Who are you?
Gillie is my name.
Help! Help!
Get up. Get up!
Where am I?
Outside of Mr. Black's house.
- Do you know what happened? - No. What?
He recited a hymn or something.
Then he chased me with a big sword.
Ow.
You rang, sir...
Sir!
Get up! We've got to make a run for it.
You've bungled it again.
It wasn't my fault.
Oh, no, it's never your fault, is it?
It's always...
Is that Black's servant?
Where's he going?
I know where he's going.
- Where? - To the police.
Well, follow him. Stop him! Go on.
A fine mess you've made of things again.
Servant, where are you going?
To fetch the doctor, sir.
My master's unconscious on his bed.
- He's dying. - Dying?
Dying.
I wanted you to stop him. Why did you let him go?
Why? Because Mr. Black is dying.
Oh.
Oh, how sad.
This man is dead.
Are you positive, Doctor?
I beg your pardon.
No offense intended, sir.
It's simply that Mr. Black has been...
subject to catalepsy for several years now.
- Oh. - Oh, yes.
Several times he's presumed to have died...
only to revive some hours later.
I see. Well, I'm quite surely positive he's dead.
But if you wish, I'll apply a few more tests.
Oh, if you would, sir, if only to be absolutely certain.
All right.
He left the window open.
I'm sorry, but your master is quite dead.
Up, down.
Up and down all night long.
Up and down and up...
He has departed the earth, tenderhearted his soul...
no longer by grief invaded, and music lingers from...
Yes?
Good evening.
Mr. Black and I have an appointment.
Pick up your end, Mr. Gillie.
You're dragging.
My end must be heavier than... than your end.
You're going too fast, Mr. Tremble.
Butterfingers.
He's... he's pretty heavy for such a skinny bird.
He probably has all his gold sewed up inside of him.
All right... 1, 2, 3...
There.
Well, how nice to see you here, Mr. Black.
We are not going to embalm him tonight.
We haven't embalmed anybody in 6 years.
Why should we start now?
- I just thought... - Well, don't!
You don't do it very well.
Me for bed.
And me for getting the horses to bed.
Honestly, if it...
if it weren't for poor Amaryllis...
I don't think...
Did you speak?
Now what in the name of heaven is wrong with you?
Well, what about him?
I don't... I don't think...
he's quite dead enough yet to bury.
You don't think he's quite dead enough yet to...
What... place is this?
You.
Not me!
Mr. Trumbull...
This man...
W-what am I doing here?
You're here because you're dead, Mr. Black.
The hell I am!
Oh, yes, you are.
Everybody else knows you're dead, Mr. Black...
except apparently you.
What jiggery-pokery is this?
Not jiggery-pokery, Mr. Black.
Hinchley and Trumbull Funeral Parlor.
You wouldn't dare.
Have we a choice, Mr. Black?
Dead, huh?
That's what the doctor said.
Well, he's dead now.
Let's put him in the casket.
I don't even want to see him anymore.
You're not going to bury him in it, are you?
In our one good casket? Are you out of your mind?
Here we go.
Well.
Me for bed.
Me, too.
What, by...
Oh, no.
What place is this?
Shut the lid!
What are you trying to do?
Break my hand?
Come on, come on.
Be a nice boy and stay in there where you belong.
No! No! No!
What's the matter with that idiot?
Doesn't he know when to quit?
Let me out of here!
We most certainly will not let you out of here, sir.
Confound you, sir!
Confound you, too, sir!
Will you kindly have the goodness to die?
Never!
Help!
Let me out!
For a man in his condition...
he certainly has a lot of energy.
The stubborn crackpot.
I could have sworn he was dead.
It's about time.
I've never had such an uncooperative customer...
in my whole life.
I regard your actions as inimical to good fellowship.
- Oh, no, you don't! - Oh, yes.
- Leave me alone. - Oh, yes, we do.
He bit me! The son of a bit me!
- Let me out of here! - Hand me that mallet.
Let me... out of...
Get me a gag and some chain.
- Mr. Tremble. - Trumbull.
I said Tremble. Everybody's here.
All right. Tell them we'll be ready in a minute.
Is he dead?
Yes. Now, get out of here.
Ungrateful employer.
He is not dead but sleepeth
He is not dead at all
His eyes will open and he will see
The beauties of eternity
He is not dead but sleepeth
He is not dead at all
I wish she would have picked another song.
I wish her vocal cords would snap.
He is not dead but sleepeth
He hath not left our side
For constantly
Could we but view
He watches everything we do
He is not dead but sleepeth
He is not dead
At all
Huh? What? What?
You know, if Mr. Black wasn't dead already...
that note would kill him.
My friends, we have gathered ourselves together...
within these bog-grieved walls...
to pay homage to the departed soul of...
what's-his-name...
whom the pious and unyielding fates have chosen to pluck...
from the very prime of his existence...
and place in the bleak sarcophagus of all eternity.
That's pretty good.
Very good, huh?
And so, my friends, we find ourselves...
gathered 'round the bier of Mrs...
Mr. You-Know-Who.
This litter of sorrow, this can, this cromlech...
this dread dokhma, this gut, this mastaba...
this sorrowing dope, this unhappy cumulus...
this... this... what is the word?
This... coffin.
Never could think of that word.
Requiescat in pace, Mister... Mister...
The memory of your good deeds...
will not perish with your untimely sepulture.
In the hearts of those who love you, you will live on.
Of all the tricky, underhanded deceitfulness...
not to even tell us that this thing...
is going to be put into a crypt instead of into the ground.
Now we're gonna have to buy another one...
for the... for the services.
I'll be very glad to build a new one.
It's like parting from an old friend.
Good-bye, old friend.
Maybe someday we can exchange it.
And do what with the body?
Same as we always do, take it out of the box.
But they'd see it.
No, I'm afraid we're just gonna have to buy another casket...
and after having used this one for only 13 years.
Only 13 years?
You know, I wonder what idiot...
ever thought of putting bodies in a crypt...
instead of in the ground where they belong.
Yeah, and they fertilize plants, too.
What a terrible thing to say. Shut up.
At least we have some money coming in.
Yes, we have.
Did I say "we"?
No, never.
A good day to thee, sir.
And a good day to thee, sir.
Have thee a good sleep.
What place is this?
Ouch!
Oh, you're my angel.
- You're my angel. - Well, ain't you classy.
I must. I must, I must.
Forbear, Felix.
Forbear, forbear.
I don't know what that word means...
but I can't take it any longer.
I... I can't take it!
I'm so sensitive.
Mr. Trumbull?
Waldo?
Aren't you coming to bed...
husband?
Get outta here.
Waldo, don't be like that.
Get away from me!
Am I so repulsive?
That's the word, yes.
Couldn't you find it in your heart to love me, Waldo?
- Well? - Get up!
You're sittin' on my money.
Then you reject me?
As long as there's liquor in the house.
Oh?
Very well.
Then I shall not answer for the consequences then.
Very well.
"Then I shall not answer for the consequences then."
What... what... what... what? What is it?
He's so cruel, so thoughtless.
All he thinks about is his bottle.
Never of me.
Pardon me.
Better take him upstairs.
Him?
Upst...
Felix...
Oh, Amaryllis! Oh, darling!
Please, run away with me.
Be my wife. Be my love.
I'll let you study opera.
I'll let you study music, anything, anything.
Oh, Felix. Oh, mon amour.
Everything is going to be so magnifique.
Rain, rain, goeth thee away
Come thee again some other day
What manner of cry be that?
Do... do... do thee not choose to sleep, sir?
Well, if thee insist...
perhaps thee have a reason not to sleep, sir.
I'll ask thee.
Have thee patience, have thee patience.
I'm comin'.
It's not customary that I waken in the middle of the night.
For that, be grateful.
"Is this a dagger that I see before me?
"The handle toward my hand?
"Come, let me clutch thee."
Now, we... we must have a little talk, sir.
For thee too must sleep, like all the others.
Out!
"Therefore Macbeth shall sleep no more.
"I have done the deed.
"Didst thou not hear a noise?"
"The time has been that when the brains were out...
"a man would die and there's an end.
"But now..."
Felix, you've stolen my heart
Felix, we'll never part
Felix, Felix
Dites moi, dites moi
Dites moi, mon amour
Just like a nightingale.
"And therefore, Mr. Tremble..."
"Amaryllis and I have fled into the night...
"driven onward by the madness...
"of our all-consuming passion.
"Felix."
Come in.
I said come in!
That's not the front door.
All right, all right, I'm coming!
Don't be so impatient!
Someone there?
Anyone here? Come on out!
What are you grinning about?
You old goat.
Now, I'm sure that that door was closed.
Something's been opening doors around here.
But what?
Nice Cleopatra.
Dites moi...
C'est vous, Monsieur Gillie?
"Blood will have blood, they say."
Get up.
"The devil damn thee black...
"thou cream-faced loon!
"Thy bones are marrowless, and thy blood is cold!"
Wait for me. Wait for me!
"Sleep no more!"
"Macbeth doth murder sleep!"
I thought he was dead.
He'll never die.
Oh, good work.
It's a little better in the dark.
What is, decapitation?
"Painted upon a pole!"
"And underwrit!"
Would you let go of me?
Let go of me!
Let go of me.
Go and find your own hiding place. Go on.
"Lay on, Macduff!
"And damn'd be he who first cries, 'Hold, enough! '
"Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits!"
"The flighty purpose never is o'ertook...
"unless the deed go with it!"
Thank heavens he's gone.
You!
"Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow...
"creeps in this petty pace from day to day...
"to the last syllable of recorded time."
"And all our yesterdays..."
"Have lighted fools...
"the way to dusty death.
"Out...
"out, brief candle."
"Life's but a walking shadow..."
"A poor player...
"that struts and frets his hour upon the stage...
"and then is heard no more."
That I'll believe when I see it.
"It is a tale... told... by an idiot."
"Full of sound and fury..."
"Signifying... nothing."
Well, if it was anyone else...
I'd think he was dead, but I...
Oh, Felix!
- Oh, mon coeur. - What?!
- Oh, you've killed him. - Me?
You've taken the one really beautiful thing...
And you've killed this poor man.
Poor man? He tried to chop your head off.
Monster!
- Go to bed. - Go to bed?
I'll tell you where I'm going.
I'm going to the authorities.
I'll see you hang for this!
- Amaryllis, go to bed! - Never!
- Go to bed, Amaryllis. - You wouldn't dare!
Oh, no, of course not.
Well...
who's next?
Amaryllis?
You. You...
You killed her.
My rose and...
and she sang like a nightingale.
And I stilled the voice of the nightingale.
You... you dirty man!
With my...
with my bare hands, I'll kill you! I'll...
I've had enough for one night. Go away!
Oh, put that down.
"An eye for an eye," Mr. Tremble.
- Trumbull. - I said Tremble!
"And a tooth for a tooth!"
Give no quarter! Take no prisoner!
Forward!
March!
Amaryllis!
Ouch! That hurt.
Oh, what a night.
May I?
Mr. Trumbull?
Oh, Mr. Trumbull,
Mr. Black was seen walking through the streets!
Police! Police! Police!
Oh, to hell with it.
Police!
Well, if you can't lick 'em, join 'em.
What a blow.
Amaryllis, I...
I thought you were dead.
And I thought you were dead.
Isn't that funny?
I... I thought you were dead, and you thought I...
You will sing for me...
often.
Anybody there?
Speak up.
Everything seems to be in order.
Bedtime. What? What's that?
Trumbull?
What are you doing on the floor?
Drunk again?
Not feeling well.
What you need is a good dose of your own medicine.
Keep it in your waistcoat, don't you?
There we go.
There.
That ought to take care of you nicely.
Not here to stop me.
Empty.
Whoa, you're feeling better already, huh?
Oh, no good reaching for it.
It's all gone.
You took every last drop of it...
and me an old man that needs it more than you do.
That's the way it goes, though.
Let the old man go without.
Stick him in the battle.
Might as well go up to bed.
Nothing going on, as usual.
Nothing ever happens here.
Every day, the same old thing.
No change, no variety.
When I was young...
we knew how to live.
See you in the mornin'.
What place is this?
Is there no morality left in this world?
Huh? What? What?!
Husband?
"Out brief candle."