A Tale of Two Cities

Oh, no!

What is happening here?

Who is making that abominable noise?

I'm sorry, Monsieur, we have struck a child, I believe.

The child, Monsieur le Marquis, is dead.

The coach struck him. This man is the father.

Really, it is extraordinary to me

that you people cannot take care of yourselves.

Or your children.

Always in the way.

How do I know what injury you may have done to my horses?

Here. Give him that!

Be brave, Gaspard.

It is better for the poor little one to die so

than to live in times such as these.

He died quickly, without pain.

Could he have lived an hour as happily.

Oh, you're a philosopher, Monsieur?

How do they call you?

Defarge.

Of what trade?

A vendor of wine. That is my shop.

Well, philosopher and vendor of wine, pick up that...

And spend it as you will.

Move on!

Walk on.

Ah-yuh!

It was the best of times.

It was the worst of times.

It was the age of wisdom.

It was the age of foolishness.

It was the epoch of belief.

It was the epoch of incredulity.

It was the season of light.

It was the season of darkness.

It was the spring of hope.

It was the winter of despair.

Royal George, Dover...

Royal George.

Thank you, sir.

Good morning to you, sir.

I am Jarvis Lorry of Tellson's Bank.

I'm looking for a young lady, Miss Lucie Manette.

- Can you tell me where...? - There, sir.

I beg your pardon?

There, sir.

Directly behind you.

Taking a tea with her companion.

Miss Lucie?

Mr. Lorry.

Won't you sit down?

Thank you.

Um...

You know Miss Pross, don't you?

A pleasure, Ma'am. As always.

What is this all about, Mr. Lorry?

The letter said it was of the utmost importance.

Quite true.

Although, I must confess it's such an astounding revelation that I...

Indeed, I hardly know how to tell you.

Is it something so dreadful?

On the contrary, it's wonderful news.

You were too young to remember, of course,

your father being thrown into prison.

At that time, any French nobleman could imprison any French citizen

with no questions asked.

Does this concern my father's estate?

No, not his estate.

He left you enough to live comfortably, as we both know...

Oh, Miss Lucie...

Courage, Mr. Lorry.

Your father, my dear child...

Your father has been found!

What?

Alive.

He was left to die in prison. He did not die.

Where is he?

He's been taken to the house of an old servant of his, in Paris.

A man by the name of Defarge.

It is in this house above a wine shop that we can find him.

Will you be able to leave with me on the packet boat tomorrow?

Oh, Miss Lucie.

Oh, dear heavens. Look what you've done.

Did you have to frighten the child to death?

What sort of a banker are you?

Fetch the vinegar!

'Ere, watch out!

Gaspard!

What are you doing?

Do you want to go to the mad hospital?

Move on!

The wine's outside.

There was an accident.

Did you hear me?

They are here.

Monsieur Lorry?

Indeed.

The lodging you wish to see is on the second floor,

if you will come with me.

Is he alone?

Alone.

God help them, sir. Who should be with him?

Is the door locked?

Always.

Why?

Why?

Because he's lived so long locked up alone in prison

that he would rave and tear himself to pieces if this door were left open.

Doctor?

Good day, Dr. Manette.

Still hard at work, I see.

Yes, I am working.

May I let in a little more light, Doctor?

Doctor?

You have visitors.

What?

What is that?

There is someone here to see you.

Tell this gentleman what kind of shoes you make.

Shoes?

Can you describe the shoes for this gentleman?

They are ladies' shoes.

And the maker's name?

Name?

You ask my name?

Yes.

One hundred and five north tower.

Sir?

Do you not remember me?

You.

Yes.

You are the jailer's daughter?

No.

Who are you?

I don't...

I don't...

What?

In the sun...

it is the same.

How can this be?

It's so long ago when they came to take me away.

We held each other... My little girl, she was in my arms.

And when I arrived in prison,

I found these on my sleeve, and I've...

I've... kept them ever since.

How is this?

Was it you?

Oh, please.

It cannot be.

We've come to take you away with us.

We've come to help you.

Please trust us, my dear.

Please trust me.

Oh, my clear, please trust me.

Thank God I have found you...

I have found you again.

My tools.

What?

What's that?

He wants his tools to make the shoes.

- Ah... - One moment, Doctor.

I shall be right back.

Shall we, Doctor?

What is that?

Some writings of his.

A diary, perhaps.

I'll put it in with his tools.

FIE?

Give it to me.

We shall keep it here.

Why?

To read, you fool.

Godspeed.

To the barrier!

Excuse me, Monseigneur, but your nephew is here to see you.

Well, what do you want?

Be quick about it. I'm busy.

I'm here to say good-bye.

I'm leaving France.

For how long?

Forever.

Monseigneur!

Where are your clogs?

Dogs?

You're shooting pigeon. Who fetches them?

Oh, yes, well, I really don't care much for pigeon.

I would be hard-pressed to think of anything in this world

you do care for.

- Except yourself. - Yes, perhaps.

Really, that's quite true.

It is no wonder the family is looked on with nothing

but thoughts of fear and slavery.

That I take to be a compliment.

Get away! Get away!

Let me tell you, my dear nephew...

Fear and slavery keep the scum obedient.

As long as the roof shuts out the sky.

That may not be as long as you would suppose.

The tide is turning. There's a new philosophy in the air.

The people are going to rise up in righteous vengeance.