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!
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...
the enormously wealthy
Count Enrique Spada.
Spada was a righteous man.
Sadly, a couple
of years later, he died...
amidst rumours that he had
hidden his limitless fortune.
- Two weeks later, I was arrested.
- Why?
Napoleon wanted
Spada's treasure.
He did not believe that
I had no idea where it was.
So he had me thrown in here
to refresh my memory.
And so here I've remained...
with only God for company...
until he sent me you.
God is no more real
than your treasure, Priest.
Perhaps.
Hurry. Get it.
Compute this.
of rock and dust a day...
for 365 days.
Equals three-and-a-half
metres a year...
twelve feet, a foot a month.
Three inches a week.
In Italian.
Do not waste the light.
You were a soldier, Priest.
So you know weaponry.
Teach me.
Or dig alone.
This is ridiculous.
The stronger swordsman
does not necessarily win.
It is speed!
Speed of hand.
Speed of mind.
Now, sweep your hand
through the drops...
without getting wet.
Like this.
How long must I keep this up?
I am going down the tunnel.
Parry.
Up. Like that.
Economics is the science
that deals with the production...
distribution and
consumption of commodities.
Translation.
Thank you.
Happy Christmas, Edmond.
Give or take a month or so.
- Danglars? Mondego?
- Who do you think?
Good! Too good.
We have Newton's third law.
There is a reaction
to every action...
in physics and in man.
Thus my quest for vengeance
is a reaction to the actions
of Danglars and Mondego.
Up, up.
I want that seat.
You once told me that Villefort
had you rearrested just after...
he had cleared you
of all the charges.
You may go.
Yes, that's true.
Then why would he go
through that charade...
unless he had reason to change his mind
about letting you go?
- Think, Edmond.
- I'm trying.
- What happened?
- He asked me...
Did Napoleon tell you who was
supposed to pick up this letter?
- I told him...
- A Monsieur Clarion.
- And nothing more?
- Nothing. He burnt the letter
and said I could go.
Ah.
He burned the letter.
- Yes.
- Strange that a chief magistrate...
would burn evidence
of a treasonous conspiracy...
and then
imprison the only man...
who was aware of
Monsieur Clarion's connection...
to that conspiracy.
- He was protecting someone.
- Ah.
- A dear friend perhaps?
- No. No.
A politician like Villefort would have
rid himself of such friends.
Clarion could be a relative.
A close relative, possibly...
No!
Villefort's father was
a colonel in Napoleon's army.
Villefort wasn't protecting Clarion.
He was protecting himself.
Danglars, who falsely said he saw
Napoleon give me that letter.
Mondego,
who told Villefort I had it.
And Villefort himself,
who sent me here.
Bravo, Edmond, bravo.
Oh, my God. Oh, oh.
Oh.
Edmond, light. Light.
Quick. Light.
Oh, please, God.
What is that? Look.
Look. Look!
Roots. Plant roots.
If these are plant roots,
then we are only months away.
Yes. Well done, Priest.
I'll get my chisel.
Good. Good.
Priest!
In God's name, go on.
Go on. Go on!
Lungs are punctured.
- Don't talk.
- Listen.
- Don't talk.
There's not much time.
Under th-those books,
there's loose rocks.
Quickly, quickly.
Open it.
When I told them I did not know...
where the treasure of Spada was,
I lied.
You lied?
I'm a priest, not a saint.
There, on that island
off the Italian coast.
- Monte Cristo?
- Yes, yes.
Use... Use your head.
- Follow the clues.
- The tunnel's blocked.
- I can't escape.
- Keep digging.
When you escape,
use it for good, only for good.
No, I will surely
use it for my revenge.
Do not commit...
Oh. Do not commit the crime...
for which you now
serve the sentence.
- God said, "Vengeance is mine."
- I don't believe in God.
That doesn't matter.
He believes in you.
Priest?
Plates out.
Let's have it.
Oh.
Oh, God.
He's always awake.
First time in 1 2 years
he hasn't said "Thank you."
- Dead.
- How?
Fell off his bed, didn't he?
- He's a bit dirty, isn't he?
- They all are.
Well, let's sew him up...
and then see Dorleac.
One, two, three.
Right, let's get Dorleac.
Why'd you lock it?
He's not going anywhere.
I don't know.
Habit, I suppose.
Goodbye, Priest.
You're free now...
as I will never be.
Well, bring him along.
- Let's bury him, then.
- You ready?
- Yeah.
- One. That's it.
- Keep going.
- Come on, come on.
I haven't got all day.
Actually, I do.
I've got... I've got...
all the time in the world!
Come on.
Come on.
Monsieur Dorleac!
Heavenly Father,
we bequeath to you...
these remains of your humble servant.
Whatever his name was.
God, I'm so bored.
Monsieur Dorleac!
Did he, in fact, have a map?
- No, gov.
- Where's the, uh...
Stop!
Monsieur Dorleac!
What do you mean, after three?
We throw him at three or before three?
- After three.
- One, two...
- Monsieur Dorleac!
- And th...
- Don't, Monsieur Dorleac!
- One...
- Two...
- Don't throw the body over the cliff!
three!
We could have handled that
a bit better.
Thank you, Priest.
Thank you.
So, mi amice, I would ask who you are,
but in view of your shredded clothes...
and the fact that the Chateau d'lf
is two miles away...
what's the point?
As for me, I am Luigi Vampa...
a smuggler and a thief.
My men and I have come to this island
to bury alive one of our number...
who attempted to keep
some stolen gold for himself...
instead of, uh,
sharing it with his comrades.
Interestingly enough, there are
some of his more loyal friends...
who are insisting
that I grant him mercy...
which, of course, I cannot do,
for I would quickly lose control...
of the whole crew.
You provide me with a way
to show a little mercy to Jacopo...
that maggot you see
tied up over there...
while, at the same time,
not appearing weak.
And as a special treat, the lads
will get to see a little sport as well.
How do I accomplish all this?
lfJacopo wins,
we welcome him back to the crew.
If you win, I have given Jacopo
the chance to live...
even if he did not
take advantage of it...
and you can take his place
on the boat.
What if I win,
and I don't want to be a smuggler?
Then we slit your throat,
and we're a bit shorthanded.
to kill your friend, the maggot.
Perhaps you should get out more.
Release Jacopo
and give him back his knife.
Then we let the games begin.
Get up, maggot.
Come on, come on!
As you hope to live,
do not move an eyelash.
Senor Vampa, allow Jacopo to live.
He's already suffered enough with
the prospect of being buried alive.
The men that wanted
to see some sport have seen it.
Those who wanted mercy forJacopo
will get it.
And by keeping me and Jacopo...
- It's a deal.
- What is his name?
- You've got the devil, Jacopo!
- His name?
We shall call him Zatarra.
Sounds fearsome.
It means "driftwood."
I swear on my dead relatives,
even on the ones...
that are not feeling too good...
I am your man forever.
I know.
Eyes in the back of your head.
Have you never seen
Marseilles before?
It was my home.
- But you do not join the others ashore.
- Over here!
Yeah, that's right, over here!
Listen to me, Zatarra.
Whatever happened to you...
you cannot make it right
by staying here on this boat.
Go. It's up to you.
"We are kings or pawns,"
a man once said.
Si. Who told you this?
Napoleon Bonaparte.
Bonaparte?
Oh, Zatarra, the stories you tell.
A man is always in need
of a good friend.
Truly.
Danglars, what's happened?
Captain Reynaud is dead, sir,
and Edmond Dantes disobeyed my orders.
Zatarra, are you all right?
Everything's changed.
I want you to buy a boat,
just something the two of us can handle.
Wait for me to return.
I make my next visit alone.
Is... Is this the home
of Monsieur Morell?
My grandfather isn't well, monsieur.
Even if he were, he would not receive
visitors at 1 1:00 in the evening.
Perhaps he might make an exception for
a man who is seeking E-Edmond Dantes.
I apologize for the hour.
Old people never sleep. Sit down,
sit down. Julianne, some sherry.
So, Monsieur Zatarra...
you were a friend of Edmond?
- Monsieur Morell?
- Yes?
You knew Edmond also?
Like a son.
Unfortunately,
his father hanged himself...
after learning of Edmond's treason.
I see.
I see. And...
this treason you speak of...
- Who accused him?
- Who knows?
Monsieur Villefort,
the man who had Edmond arrested...
left for Paris soon after to take up
the post of chief prosecutor.
Of course, the shock of
his father's violent murder...
may also have spurred his departure.
They were strange times.
After Edmond's death,
I reluctantly took on a partner.
One of my captains.
And then one day,
Danglars forced me out.
My-My fate is nothing
compared to Edmond's.
Perhaps your luck is about to change.
You mean the Countess Mondego?
- Countess?
- Yes.
A month after
poor Edmond was arrested...
Mercedes wed his best friend.
- Fernand.
- Yes, that's right.
And with the death of
his father and brother in the war...
Fernand became Count Mondego.
They live in Paris now.
Count and Countess Mondego.
Are you all right?
Yes. I must go.
- I'm sorry I was not more helpful.
- Oh, no.
You told me what I needed to know.
Edmond Dantes is dead.
Zatarra. Zatarra,
you will be so proud of me.
I found a nice little skiff.
We couldn't afford a sloop.
Got a really good deal.
Za-Zatarra? Zatarra.
Zatarra, the boat
cannot hold no more...
and there are at least
eight more boatloads down there!
Do you not understand?
You are wealthier than any man
I have ever heard of.
Whatever your problems were,
they are over.
What do you want to buy?
- Revenge.
- Okay, revenge. Who?
Danglars, Villefort...
Fernand and Mercedes.
Right. We kill these people,
then we spend the treasure.
No, we will study them,
learn their weaknesses.
Why not just kill them?
I'll do it.
I'll run up to Paris...
bam, bam, bam, bam!
I'm back before week's end.
We spend the treasure.
How is this a bad plan?
Death is too good for them.
They must suffer as I suffered.
They must see their world,
all they hold dear...
ripped from them
as it was ripped from me.
You will need a better name than Zatarra
if you are to accomplish that.
Then I shall become a count.
I bid you good afternoon, sir.
I'm here to purchase your lovely home.
The very cheek!
I shall have you horsewhipped!
Now, get off my property,
you vagabond...
before I set the dogs on you,
you hear?
Thank you.
Ladies and gentlemen,
it is with great honour...
that I present to you His Grace...
the Count of Monte Cristo.
It's so beautiful.
Greetings.
My dear count, allow me
to introduce to you my husband...
Monsieur Villefort,
Chief Prosecutor.
- Very kind of you to think of us.
- Oh, I am the one
honoured with your presence.
Now, please,
enjoy yourselves tonight.
- What do we know about him?
- Not enough.
Where are they?
Are you sure you invited them?
Yes, Your Grace.
But I just learned that Count Mondego
has retired for the evening.
He has a morning appointment
he cannot miss.
You're up early, my dear.
Is the Viscount Tourville dead?
Well, unless his heart
is situated somewhere other than
the left side of his chest...
I suspect he is.
God grant him peace.
He did no more
than defend his family's honour.
Much good it did him.
His wife and I
were happy in our passion.
You were happy in your ignorance.
Now comes the viscount's valiant defence
of his honour, and you are pained.
- She is ruined, and he is dead.
- Don't flatter yourself, Fernand.
I was neither happy nor ignorant...
having known about the last three women
before Madame Tourville.
I'm sorry you are humiliated.
And since my attempts at discretion
have evidently failed...
there seems little point
in keeping up pretences.
It's actually quite liberating.
Wouldn't you say?
- They're not even cheating him.
- And have you looked into his shipping?
He got a bank loan for his own boat
several years ago.
- Doesn't use Danglars at all.
- Make sure we own that bank by tomorrow.
And tell the other shipping companies
to stay away from Mondego.
I want to give him no choice
but to crawl back to Danglars.
Now, tell the dealers...
take it all.
Do try to understand.
I have a very large consignment
of cotton ready to be sent...
and I shall make my payment on the ship
as soon as it is delivered.
So obviously I need the vessel
in order to deliver it.
Unfortunately, the bank can offer
no further extensions, Count Mondego.
Well, well. To what do I owe
the honour, Count Mondego?
Can't imagine why you've been
avoiding me after all these years.
I'm prepared
to overlook your faults and...
perhaps resume our dealings.
Business not going
so well these days?
Zatarra?
- Jacopo.
- Did you fall off the bed?
After 1 3 years of sleeping
on a stone slab, I can't.
Mi Maria.
Does that hurt?
Did you come here for a reason?
Mondego has a son.
- Albert wishes to talk with us.
- Not now! Tell him I'm trying
to protect his inheritance.
Are you afraid he's going
to squander his as you have yours?
May I remind you, my love, that in Paris
there are mistresses aplenty...
but you have only one son.
Come in, Albert.
- And, for God's sake, be brief.
- I will, Father.
Several of my friends are going to Rome
for two weeks during Carnival.
- I would like to accompany them.
- Rome?
- And no chaperons?
Albert, you're only 1 5.
- Almost 1 6.
Make it my birthday present,
Father, please.
- I won't get into trouble.
- No.
- Of course he can go.
I could do with
some peace and quiet around here.
Rome!
Albert! Albert!
- Over here! Over here!
- Over here!
Milady?
Can't hide forever. Milady?
- Who are you,
and why are you doing this?
- We are bad men, and for the money.
- My money is in my waistcoat.
- Not any more.
Besides, it's not your money
we're interested in.
You are the only son
of Count Mondego, are you not?
Ransom?
Send your note and be damned.
I wish it were that easy,
but a note won't reach your father
for at least two weeks...
and then there's the endless debates
about whether we killed you already.
No, a note just doesn't have the impact.
Perhaps if we send him your ring.
Yes. My ring bears
the Mondego crest.
Listen to me, vermin.
I am Albert...
son of Fernand, Count Mondego...
and you have had your last laugh
at my expense.
- Do your worst.
- If you insist. Peppone, the knife.
Cut this boy's ropes,
or I will be forced...
to start cutting
your miserable corpses.
Now!
Follow me, young man.
You see the surface? Wait for me there.
- I don't know how to thank you.
- Go. We'll talk later.
Well done, gentlemen.
Many thanks, Your Grace.
Albert.
Are you all right?
Sir, I owe you my life.
You've had quite an ordeal.
You're an extraordinary young man.
I insist, you must come to my estate
for breakfast tomorrow.
Agreed?
Agreed.
- May I ask who you are, sir?
- For the present, your friend.
Tomorrow, your host. For the short time
formality stands between us...
the Count of Monte Cristo.
He's out in the waiting room.
- He showed courage in the tunnels.
- He's a means to an end.
Yes, Your Grace.
Young man.
Albert, come in.
Come, come.
Come on.
- You've had quite a night.
- Yes. What an adventure.
Everything's an adventure
when you're young.
- One thing puzzles me, sir.
- Hmm?
How did you come to know
of my kidnapping?
I have many connections...
some of which are less than reputable.
I pay well to be informed of anything
of note in any city in which I stay.
And the kidnapping of a count's son
is of note.
But why risk your life rescuing me?
You're the son of a fellow noble.
It was the least I could do.
Judging by your character,
I'm sure you would have done the same.
Your father will be proud of you.
You must come to Paris
and meet my parents so that
they may thank you in person.
Unfortunately, I cannot.
Business, you see.
Please.
It is a matter of honour.
- Jacopo?
- Yes, Your Grace?
The Spada matter...
where do we stand?
- Even now, the gold...
- The shipment?
Oh, oh, l-I'm sorry, Your Grace.
The, uh... The shipment is in transit...
uh, bound for Marseilles.
- And it arrives?
- Not for another three weeks,
Your Grace.
Three weeks? That's more
than enough time to visit in Paris.
- Very well.
- Excellent.
- And you'll be there just in time.
- In time for?
- Happy birthday.
- Thanks.
The Count of Monte Cristo.
Count!
- Albert.
- Your Grace. Father!
May I present
the Count of Monte Cristo.
- 'Tis a pleasure.
- The pleasure is mine, Count Mondego.
I've been looking forward
to this moment for some time.
Well, you do me much honour,
when it is I who are indebted to you...
for the rescue of my son.
May I present
the Countess Mondego.
Mercedes.
Countess.
You would have to be a mother
to truly appreciate the service...
you've done for my son and me.
Monsieur, I shall never forget you.
Please, madame, it was nothing.
I am sure that within a month,
you will not even remember my name.
- May I steal your wife?
- I'm sorry?
- For the waltz.
- Of course.
Isn't he wonderful, Father?
- What's the matter?
- Uh, nothing.
You just remind me
of someone from long ago.
- Someone who was very dear to me.
- I'm flattered.
What happened to him?
He died.
But I'm not that man.
Monsieur and Madame Villefort.
What are they doing here?
Prosecutor Villefort.
- What are you doing here?
- Oh, Madame Villefort, monsieur.
I'm so glad you could come to see me
while I'm still in town.
- I must say, we were delightfully
surprised to get your note.
- Thank you.
Now, would you be so kind as to excuse
your husband and I for a moment?
I'm told you are an expert
in the interpretation of the law.
I have a certain matter
that perhaps you could help me with.
Excuse me.
Fernand.
Fernand! The toast!
Not right now.
I have state business to attend to.
The guests expect it.
Albert expects it.
- You give it, my dear.
I'm sure it'll be splendid.
- You are his father!
It is the least you can do.
You know how he admires you.
- Then he will forgive my absence.
- But...
I thought we agreed
not to meet socially.
How could I pass up
the Count of Monte Cristo?
Quite.
- What do you know of him?
- He's foreign, rich.
- I hear he aided your son.
- Why does he seek your counsel?
Why should I tell you?
When my son returned from Rome...
he mentioned he'd heard Monte Cristo
saying he was expecting a shipment.
He also heard the words
"gold" and "Spada."
- Hmm.
- You don't believe...
Monte Cristo
has found the treasure of Spada.
Not an hour ago, he asked me to help
him avoid troublesome inspections...
on a shipment coming from Marseilles.
- Hmm.
- I could have him arrested.
Don't do that.
Let's just relieve him of it.
- How do you propose...
- I have an acquaintance
who deals in these matters.
Tell Monte Cristo you'll get
his shipment through Customs...
but that it will have
to stay in port overnight.
I shall have it removed and taken
to my old family estate in Bouchon...
where we shall meet
the following day.
I require 70 percent.
- And yet you'll only get 50.
- Done.
Ladies and gentlemen...
unfortunately, my husband
has been detained by business.
And so it is left up to me to...
To introduce you...
to the Count of Monte Cristo yet again.
You see, I had the audacity
to beg the count...
to allow me to give
the birthday toast to Albert.
I was so insistent, and such is
the graciousness of our host...
that he reluctantly gave up
his fatherly right...
in order to accommodate a guest,
even one as boorish as myself.
Young Albert has made far too much
of the assistance I gave him in Rome.
When I arrived in the catacombs,
I watched...
as the criminals,
who tied Albert to a wall...
- As evidence of his abduction.
- Goodness!
The boy's reply to all this was...
"Do your worst."
Life is a storm, my young friend.
You will bask
in the sunlight one moment...
be shattered on the rocks the next.
What makes you a man is what you do
when that storm comes.
You must look into that storm
and shout, as you did in Rome...
"Do your worst...
for I will do mine."
Then the fates will know you
as we know you...
as Albert Mondego, the man.
Giddap!
Edmond, Villefort told me
that you were executed.
- Did he?
- Oh, God.
- Countess, you are mistaken.
Back to the Mondegos'.
- No!
- Madame, I am only thinking
of your reputation.
- I beg you, Edmond.
- I don't care how you returned.
- I am not this Edmond.
- Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!
So, what are you?
A spirit? Some ghost
sent to torment me?
This Edmond, you loved him?
- Yes.
- For how long?
For all of my life.
And how long after he died
before you married the count?
That isn't fair.
We've reached your home,
Countess.
You're right.
You cannot be my Edmond.
Well, there you are.
You said it yourself.
Edmond Dantes is dead.
Good night.
Countess.
If you ever again presume
to interfere in my affairs...
Do you understand?
- I understand you are mad.
- Mad?
My enemies are falling
into my traps perfectly.
Mad, Your Grace,
for ignoring this:
You have a fortune,
a beautiful woman who loves you.
Take the money, take the woman
and live your life.
Stop this plan.
Take what you have won.
- I can't.
- Why not?
I am still your man, Zatarra.
I swore an oath.
I will protect you.
Even if it means I must
protect you from yourself.
I'll drive you home now.
I'll walk.
Come on. Look sharp.
There we are.
Put two chests
on the Pharaon for our cut.
Mondego will never notice.
Come on. Get aboard.
- Philippe Danglars?
- Yeah?
You are charged with the theft of goods
from a certain merchant ship.
- This is absurd.
- We can resolve this matter easily.
These men will perform
a search of your vessel.
Count Mondego set me up.
But I'll not hang for him.
- Who are you?
- I'm the count of Monte Cristo.
But my friends call me Edmond Dantes.
Dantes?
Cut him down before
he can't talk.
- Boy, don't do that.
That's... That's too much.
- My dear Villefort.
I hope you don't mind
if I join you for a short while.
Your Grace,
I was not expecting you.
I want to thank you in person
for helping me with my shipment.
That, yes. L-I made all
the arrangements earlier.
I can promise you there'll be
no more problems from our end.
Excellent. I think this
could be the start of a long...
and fruitful relationship.
Speaking of which,
may I pose a question?
Yes, of course.
Anything in the world.
I was just curious.
Why did you tell
Countess Mondego 1 6 years ago...
that Edmond Dantes
had been executed?
- Hmm?
- Uh...
l-I don't understand.
Wh-What on earth are you talking about?
- It's a perfectly simple question.
- How do you know these things?
That's, uh...
That's quite enough.
You-You-You don't understand. Dantes
was accepting a letter from Napoleon.
- That was clearly treason.
- But we both know he never delivered it.
Packing a man off to prison
with such knowledge is bad enough.
But to tell his...
Your Grace, I have no idea what is
provoking this perverse discussion.
Now I ask myself, "What did my old
friend Villefort stand to gain...
by telling Mercedes
that Edmond Dantes is dead? "
The answer is absolutely nothing.
- Just as you say, nothing. So why...
- But if my old friend...
now chief prosecutor of France...
doesn't gain from this lie,
well, who does?
My dear Count, it's far too hot
in here and you're fully dressed.
is Fernand, Count Mondego.
I don't understand what
this inquisition has to do
with our business relationship.
I'm about to tell you.
Sit down, Mondego.
I'm an ambitious man,
and I have furthered these ambitions...
by scooping up Bonapartists.
Once merely an irritation,
now potentially lethal.
- Be lethal in turn.
- Well, the problem is such...
that l, myself,
cannot attend to it.
So I have a proposition
for you.
How is your father?
Alive, unfortunately.
We share the same misfortune.
You remember?
Why is this door locked?
I demand that you release me
from this room at once.
You've proved yourself
no friend of mine.
Your father was a loyal supporter
of Napoleon, wasn't he?
Possibly involved in plotting
Napoleon's escape from Elba.
The emperor arrives soon!
An inconvenient parent for an ambitious
civil servant like yourself.
But then he died, suddenly,
and opportunely murdered
again some 1 6 years ago.
The Emperor Napoleon.
The murderer never apprehended.
How hard did you look for him?
You have no proof,
no witnesses.
You just have theories.
J-Just conjectures.
On the contrary.
I have Count Mondego.
Young Mondego. Why?
Because your son
lacked the courage.
Mondego is the one
who pulled the trigger!
He'd never confess
in a million years!
You're right, he wouldn't.
But you just have.
Monsieur Villefort, you are under arrest
for conspiracy to murder.
You remember?
Dantes?
A courtesy for a gentleman.
You didn't think
I'd make it that easy, did you?
Hyah!
Edmond?
So did I.
Until I realized...
you said the name "Dantes."
A name that
I had never mentioned.
What do you want of me?
I want to be free of you...
the way you obviously
are free of me.
Just a few answers from you,
and I shall be gone forever.
Ask your questions.
Where have you been?
Thirteen years in
the Chateau d'lf...
and everywhere else
you can imagine.
The Chateau d'lf for 1 3 years.
Did you suffer?
- What happened afterward?
- Much.
- Why did you not come to me?
- Why did you not wait?
You married the very man
who betrayed...
I told you that night
on the rocks, remember?
And it never has.
Why?
You know why.
If you ever loved me...
don't... don't rob me of my hate.
- It's all I have.
- Let it go, Edmond.
Let it go.
I don't know what dark plan
lies within you.
Nor do I know by what design
we were asked...
to live without
each other these 1 6 years.
- But God has offered us
a new beginning...
- God?
Don't slap His hand away.
Can I never escape Him?
No.
He is in everything.
Even in a kiss.
My lady?
- Oh.
- Where's the count?
Um, the count would like for you
to join him this afternoon.
- Join him?
- Uh, yes...
in, uh, leaving the country
with your son.
Uh, I'll have someone
bring you to your house.
- And you just wait there for me,
and we just...
- Thank you!
- Yes, yes, but my...
Yes, yes... M-My lady...
- I need to go home and pack.
- Where's the count?
- Upstairs, my lady.
What's wrong?
I'm bankrupt.
All my debts have been called in.
- Also, I'm to be arrested.
- For what?
Piracy, corruption and murder.
- Did you do all these things?
- Yes.
There is simply not the time
to talk to talk about it.
The gendarmes are on the way...
apparently, so hurry up
and pack something.
I'm not going with you, Fernand.
You are my wife.
I have made arrangements for us.
We shall be very well
taken care of.
- He's not your son.
- I beg your pardon?
Albert Mondego is the son
of Edmond Dantes.
Why do you think I rushed off
so quickly to marry you
after Edmond was taken away?
Premature.
Well, aren't you a piece of work.
So he's the bastard son
of a dead traitor.
He always was disappointing.
Goodbye, Mercedes.
You did please me some of the time.
You never pleased me.
What is this?
Monte Cristo.
King's to you, Fernand.
Edmond?
- But how...
- How did I escape?
How did I plan this moment?
With pleasure.
So you've taken Mercedes?
And everything else,
except your life.
Why are you doing this?
It's complicated.
Let's just say it's vengeance
for the life you stole from me.
Well, I see someone
has taught you the sword.
How did you ever
call yourself my friend?
We were friends, Edmond.
You sent me to hell! Why?
Take your vengeance.
But know the blood
you spill is noble.
Blood that will never
run through your veins.
You're no more a count
than I am a commoner!
You don't have it in you.
- Touch him, and I'll kill you.
- Boy, let me explain.
It's been explained. I spoke
to Madame Villefort on the street.
She told me how I was a silly,
trusting dupe that my friend...
the Count of Monte Cristo,
used to get into our lives.
- Albert, listen to me.
- I will not!
Forgive me for being
such a fool, Father.
- You were betrayed.
Of course you're forgiven.
- You were my friend.
- I looked up to you.
- There's a history here
you know nothing about.
He loved your mother,
and yet she chose me,
so now he intends to steal her away.
Lie. Get out of my way!
Boy, if I have to,
I will kill you.
I will not stop now.
- Nor will I.
- So be it.
No!
Albert...
I found the note you left
explaining where you'd gone.
But now I must
explain something to you...
where you really come from.
Albert, you are the son
of Edmond Dantes.
The man you know as
the Count of Monte Cristo.
Well, I'm afraid it is true.
You are the walking proof that your
mother was as much of a whore in her
younger years as she is today.
You...
- Fernand, I beg you. No more!
- I want no more of this.
Just go.
Call it mercy.
Mercy, Fernand.
You've only got one shot, and it will
take more than that to stop me.
Well, then I'd best put it where
it will do the most damage.
No!
Mother! Mother!
Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
Look what I've done. Jacopo!
Hyah!
Once again, Zatarra...
God sees you out
the corner of His eye.
She'll live.
Edmond! Edmond!
Please don't go out there. Don't.
Edmond, don't go.
You try. Don't ever quit.
Zatarra, you must end this.
Even the priest
will understand that.
- Edmond!
- Please don't leave.
Watch over your mother.
Now, I couldn't live in a world where
you have everything and I have nothing.
What happened to your mercy?
I'm a count, not a saint.
You were right, priest.
You were right.
This I promise you and God:
All that was used for vengeance...
will now be used for good.
So rest in peace, my friend.
So, Zatarra...
painful, huh?
No.
I bought this place,
thinking one day I would tear it down.
But now the only things
I care about...
are walking off
this island with me.
Let's go home.