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 oft
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.
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 can 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!
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!
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!
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."