Throughout the ages,
the heavens have
unleashed their fury
to make man tremble
in the presence
of the unknown.
And as man has witnessed
the power
of nature's elements,
so have some men
sought desperately
in this infinite power
the secret...
of why they are born
and why they will die.
While the very ground
on which they walk,
the earth that
will bury them,
remains to mock
their existence .
My dear Carl,
only the vicissitudes
of a lifetime,
a long lifetime,
vicissitudes that we have
shared almost as brothers
could have brought me out
on a night such as this
to drink a toast
to your birthday.
Of course,
if you had been
more considerate,
you might have
been born
in better
weather.
Well, perhaps,
perhaps the next time
I am born, Alex
I'll,
I'll make it a day
in spring when
everything else
is being born also.
Then here's to both
of our next birthdays,
so that we may share
an eternity
of the friendship
we have known.
Mmm.
Excellent port, Carl.
Excellent.
Worthy of a man
who has made life
give him full measure
in 79 years.
Full measure?
Oh, how lonely the years
would have been
without you, Alex.
Only one
other person
could've driven
the loneliness
from my life.
But, what will be
will be.
Alex?
Yes?
I wonder,
my old friend,
could you do me
a favor?
Yes, of course, Carl.
Should I not be here
for a rendezvous
with my 80th birthday,
could you please
bury this with me?
A withered rose?
Yes, well,
it's not very much to show
for all those years, is it?
But to me,
this rose is worth more
than all the
world's treasures.
Sylvia gave it to me
almost 40 years ago.
I was to wear it
on my wedding night.
Excuse me,
there's something I must do.
Sylvia.
The time has come again.
Another milestone
has been reached.
I drink to your
infinite Patience.
Wait for me,
Sylvia.
The time cannot be
much longer
when I will
join you there.
Oh, Carl, Carl,
if you only knew
how wrong it was
never to have married
because of a memory.
My dear Alex,
perhaps I was capable
of loving only once.
And if fate decreed
that Sylvia should die
on the eve
of our wedding...
Alex, has man ever
been able to control fate?
Why not?
Nothing ever
stopped me
from living exactly
the kind of life that I wanted.
That all depends on
what one wants from life.
Alex, now, you...
You always needed
to be surrounded
with laughter
and gaiety, music.
Music is good
for the soul.
Nothing melts a lady
with more dispatch
than the sob
of a violin.
Oh, Carl,
what a waste.
Many women
other than Sylvia
would've loved you.
Now there
would be children--
Sylvia shared
everything with me.
Her face filled
my dreams.
Her warmth
gave me courage.
Her memory
gave me life itself.
Do you think I'd allow
another woman to intrude?
But it is not right
to live with a ghost.
That was close.
It was you with
your talk of ghosts.
I apologize.
I promise that I won't bring
such lightning again.
The rain is stopping.
I suppose you're going
to blame that on me, too.
Alex, look.
That door hasn't
been opened in 38 years.
Come, my friend.
Let's see what damage
may have been done.
Carl, do you think
we ought to go in there?
Afraid of dust and
meaningless bones, Alex?
You're a doctor,
you're used to these things.
As a doctor,
I can tell you
you're not so far
removed from dust
and meaningless
bones yourself.
Light the candles,
Alex, please.
Oh.
Two coffins?
The one that has fallen
is Sylvia's.
The other is mine.
You wanted to take
your memories
even to the grave.
Water dripping down.
The storm must've
cracked the ceiling.
Come help me put
the coffin back.
Sylvia!
No, Carl,
it can't be.
Not after
all these years.
She would be dust.
That's all
that would be left.
Yes, I know.
But it is Sylvia.
We both know that.
Just as beautiful.
Oh, Carl, put the lid
back on the coffin
and let's get out of here.
I'm a doctor,
Alex.
I have to know what
preserved her body.
It's sacrilegious.
Perfect.
Perfect.
The flesh is firm,
no decomposition.
But why?
It isn't the air in here.
This vault isn't
a vacuum.
Please, let's--
Alex.
Yes.
Alex.
Look.
It's still wet as though water
had been dripping on it.
But, of course.
It rained hard tonight,
there'd be seepage
from the hill above.
No, no, no,
Alex.
To cause a groove
such as this,
water would've had
to drip on this coffin
for a great number
of years.
38 years,
perhaps.
You mean, ever since
Sylvia was put in here?
Yes.
The coffin is wet inside.
The water must
have seeped in
through that hole,
and kept it saturated.
You can't believe
that just plain water
would keep
Sylvia looking--
I didn't say
it was just plain water.
Old age is
catching up
with you.
I say that we go
inside and finish
our wine. Go!
I thought my enthusiasm
for research
had gone
a long time ago.
And now,
here is a challenge
that tells me
I'm still alive enough
to be curious.
Impossible.
Simply impossible.
This liquid
absolutely defies analysis.
It looks like water.
It tastes like water,
but it isn't water.
At least,
not as man knows it.
You can drink that
if you like.
I need something
more familiar: whiskey.
Extraordinarily
high mineral content.
Sulfur, and practically
no bacteria count.
Can it be
that this liquid is some
sort of strong germicidal?
If so,
what could be
in the earth
above the crypt
to make it so?
Alex,
could this be some sort
of virgin spring?
A liquid so pure that
its very fundamental
structure is unknown?
If you've found
anything as pure
as that in this
sinful world,
you are indeed
a genius.
I have known such
purity only once before.
Sylvia.
It takes such a purity
to make a man
forget all other women
for as long as he lives.
Now, Carl,
now that you know
what you don't know
about that stuff,
do you mind if we get out
of this unholy room?
Just, just,
one moment,
there's just one other
test that I must make.
What are you going
to do with that?
We've seen
that this liquid
can preserve
the illusion of life.
Now let us see
if it can restore it.
Restore life?
Yes.
You're not serious.
It's only
an experiment, Alex.
Are you too old
for curiosity?
Do you see?
It's alive again.
A fragrance as sweet
as the day
Sylvia gave it to me.
Do you realize
what that means?
No.
I'm not sure
that I want to know
what it means.
This is the work
of the devil.
The devil?
He wouldn't have anything
to do with such happiness.
What are you
talking about?
Alex,
suppose I were
to drink
some of this liquid
and become young again.
Carl, you're out
of your mind.
Don't you see, Alex?
You could drink some, too,
and we'd have another life
of such friendship.
I'd hardly call that
the work of the devil.
Do you think
it's a possibility?
Well, I,
I'll be the first to try.
Oh, no.
What if it should turn out
to be some sort of poison?
You saw the second
coffin in the crypt.
My old friend,
I trust you'll make all
necessary arrangements.
I'll pray for you.
To Sylvia,
who has either brought us
eternal youth or
just eternity.
Do you feel anything?
No.
Carl, perhaps it only works
on things like flowers.
Carl.
Carl,
what is it?
I feel faint,
feverish.
Carl.
Look.
My face!
Alex!
Tell me
what you see.
Carl, I can't believe it!
You could be your own son!
I can't wait
to have you join me.
Come, drink the liquid!
Hurry, hurry!
Hurry, my old friend.
Yes, I am hurrying.
Do you remember
the fine figure
you cut
in your youth?
Tall, handsome.
My old friend,
you had the grace
of a panther.
I did, didn't I?
Now you shall
have it again.
Drink, drink!
By George, you didn't
walk into a room,
you glided in.
When you twirled
your cloak about,
I used to think
you were the most
magnificent thing I ever saw.
Did you really?
Oh, I begin
to feel it now.
The fever?
Good, you're going back
through the years.
Oh, this dizziness...
Oh, Carl.
Perhaps the liquid
and whiskey don't mix.
Oh, nonsense.
You're going back
to your youth
the same way
you left it:
full of whiskey.
The liquid
is taking effect.
I'm young again.
I'm young!
You've done it.
Let me feel your grip.
Here.
It's like iron.
What a night
of miracles this has been.
What if it wears off?
What if the liquid doesn't
give us youth permanently?
We can drink some more.
It's been dripping in the crypt
for almost 40 years.
It could go on
dripping forever.
What a wonderful way
to be young.
All we have to do
is to be thirsty.
The two thirstiest old
coots in the world.
The two thirstiest
young coots!
I can't wait
to see the expression
on the townspeople's faces
when they see us.
Sylvia.
If only Sylvia
could see us.
Sylvia?
Yes, of course.
Alex,
perhaps she
will see us.
What?
What are you saying?
Why shouldn't Sylvia
have a chance
to share
in our miracle?
But you can't give her
the water.
A dead person
can't drink.
Of course not,
but there are ways.
Carl, Carl,
I beg of you,
don't try to bring
back the dead!
Alex, you said it
yourself:
"A chance to live
our lives over."
If I could have that
marriage to Sylvia--
Marriage?
Carl, you couldn't.
Alex,
I devoted
one lifetime
to Sylvia.
I'm perfectly willing
to devote another.
How are you
going to do it?
It seems that even the fates
are conspiring to help us.
A few years ago,
a certain Dr. Pravaz,
a Frenchman,
invented a
singular instrument.
What does it do?
My patients seem to object
being jabbed by it, but
I'd say
it's quite effective.
Carl, wait.
I'm not sure that
I want to be a part of this.
Alex, we three were
inseparable.
Should Sylvia
come back,
I'm certain that she would
want you to be there.
You must stay.
But perhaps
you will be going too far.
I mean, people are meant
to grow old and die.
Sylvia never had
a chance to grow old.
Perhaps this
will give it to her.
I thought I saw
her finger move.
No, I saw nothing.
Look.
She's trying to breathe.
Sylvia,
come back to me.
Breathe.
She's breathing
normally.
Sylvia.
Sylvia, it's Carl.
Carl Heidegger.
I'm here.
I'm waiting for you.
Carl?
She's alive again.
She remembers my name.
Her eyes, look,
her eyes are opening.
She can see again,
the Lord in His
infinite mercy.
Carl?
Is everything ready
for the wedding?
The wedding?
Always so absent-minded.
Have you forgotten?
Our wedding
is tomorrow.
Your wedding
38 years ago.
It's the last thing
she remembers.
What is it you say?
38 years?
Sylvia, it's difficult
to explain.
What do you mean,
wedding of 38 years ago?
Sylvia...
And this rag?
Why am I dressed
this way?
Sylvia, be calm.
Just listen,
please.
If this is some
hideous prank--
No, Sylvia, no.
It's just that something
very strange has happened.
Sylvia.
Have you
no recollection
of the sudden illness
that struck you
on the night
we were to be married?
That was just
a few hours ago.
I was feeling weak
and tired, but
I'm all right now.
You died.
You have been dead
for 38 years.
Dead?
38 years?
He's insane!
You died, Sylvia.
You've been dead
for 38 years.
1859?
Alex, tell me
he's mad.
No, Sylvia,
it's the truth.
I haven't changed.
And both of you,
the years haven't
changed you either.
That's thanks
to a miracle
that was made known
to us this very evening.
What are you
talking about?
Please,
come sit down.
This evening,
we found
a peculiar liquid
dripping from
the ceiling of your crypt.
After testing it,
we learned
that it had the power
to restore eternal youth.
Since you'd been
preserved by it,
we were able to bring
you back to the living.
Carl,
is this true?
Oh, it's as true as heaven
and earth, my love.
I can stay alive?
Forever?
Oh, forever.
Oh, darling,
if you only knew
how much I've loved
you all these years.
How I've cherished
your memory
and could dream
of no other woman but you.
You never married?
There's never been
another woman.
We can still be married,
as if nothing had happened.
Nothing can
stop us now.
Darling, I saved
your wedding dress.
You didn't.
I'll get it
for you.
May I get
something for you?
Would you care
for some wine?
Is it good wine, Alex?
Such as we had
yesterday?
That yesterday
of 38 years ago, of course.
Please, Sylvia.
When we had our
final argument.
Sylvia, please.
He'll hear you.
Don't let him know.
It would break his heart.
And what of
my heart, Alex?
You had no conscience
about that, did you?
I loved you,
you know that.
Love?
To take all a woman
has to offer,
and then refuse
to marry her:
Is that your idea of love?
You know how I felt
about marriage
from the beginning.
I loved you,
but I wanted to be free.
You gave
yourself to me.
Are you trying to say
that I seduced you?
Do you think
you would've been happy
marrying him
to spite me?
I wanted to
be your wife, not
just another woman.
If only you had
loved me enough.
Isn't it love enough
that a man would
murder for you?
Murder?
Do you know
why you became ill
so suddenly the night
before your wedding?
I poisoned you.
You think I wanted to see you
in the arms of another man?
But you insisted
on mocking me,
by going ahead with
your spite marriage to Carl.
You forced me to do
what I had to do.
All right.
Maybe I was wrong
to have that much pride,
but we could be
married now.
We've been given
another chance.
We can't make
the same mistake again.
How can I tell Carl?
He's lived like a monk
all these years,
holding onto
your memory
as if it were
something sacred.
I've never destroyed
the illusion for him.
I don't know as
I could do it now.
All I know is
I don't want
to live again
if I can't have you.
Tell him the truth.
You must, Alex.
Please.
I'll try.
Sylvia, look.
Look.
As white and pure
as the day you
first tried it on.
Put it on,
my dear.
A new future begins
for us tonight.
Go on, my dear.
Carl,
couldn't this wait
until tomorrow?
I've done nothing else
but wait.
No, no, no, there'll be
no more wasted years,
no more
wasted minutes.
Life is
too precious.
Go on, my dear,
put it on.
I want to see you
as lovely and radiant
as you should be.
Then we'll burn
all this in the fireplace
with all the other
memories of the past.
Oh.
As my best friend, Alex,
you must give the bride away
tomorrow at our wedding.
Well, it's so late.
Must we discuss
it now?
Well, you don't seem
very enthusiastic
about our wedding.
What do you expect?
I just haven't grown
used to all this, yet.
Carl.
Yes?
There's something
I must say to you.
Yes?
It's about Sylvia.
What is it you want
to say to me,
my old friend?
That you ruined
my life once?
That you're about
to do it again?
You heard us?
Or are you trying
to tell me
that you turned Sylvia
into little more
than a harlot?
Carl!
Carl!
Don't.
Use reason.
Carl.
Argh!
Argh!
Carl.
Forgive me, I...
Carl.
We were such
good friends.
The water doesn't last.
Sylvia!
Oh, no.
You've stopped.
Don't stop, damn you.
Don't stop. I need you.
You've taken Carl
and Sylvia away from me.
You left me nothing.
You left me nothing.
Nothing.
Man's dream
of eternal youth:
An illusion that begins
with the first
awakening of his mind
and lasts
until the moment
when he goes
to his final rest.
Only a dream, perhaps.
But what would life be
without our dreams?
Among the most beautiful
and wonderful
of the lord's creations
are the things that grow
from the earth.
It is strange, indeed,
that the verdant green
of grass and leaf,
the myriad colors
and fragrances of flowers,
all meant to be solace
to the soul of man,
can be so distorted
that their very essence
become evil,
their only use, death.
Mistress Rappaccini.
I must apologize
if I frightened you.
But after seeing
you down there
for the past three days,
I was lost.
I had to find out your name.
Fortunately, my landlady is
an understanding woman.
I'm Giovanni Guasconti.
How do you do,
Mr. Guasconti?
Now, if you'll
forgive me--
Oh, but wait.
I wanted to talk to you.
What is it you wish to say,
Mr. Guasconti?
Well, I, uh...
This is my first time
in Padua.
I'm going
to the university.
I'm from Naples.
I've read
about Naples.
Well, it's much bigger
than Padua,
and has
a beautiful bay.
In the sun,
it glistens
like a necklace
that should be hung
around a pretty girl's neck.
May I come down there
and tell you more about it?
No!
No. I...
I'm sorry.
I must bring this package
to the house immediately.
When can we talk again?
Signore ,
I have brought you
fresh bedding.
Being my landlady
doesn't give you
the privilege of
spying on me.
I-I-I felt responsible. I...
I told you her name.
Then tell me
why she acted
so afraid of me.
I can only tell you
what I know.
In the 20 years that they have
allowed me to live here,
I have never seen
a visitor
go into that house.
Why?
Make of it
what you will.
You will study
chapters 3,
4,
and 5.
I hope you do
better this time.
Now, off with you.
Professor.
Ah, my young friend,
Giovanni.
You get to look more like
your father every day.
You have some question
about the lesson?
Uh, no, sir. It's, uh...
Quite personal. It's...
It's about a girl.
Oh?
One minute, I think
I'm in love with her.
The next minute,
I say to myself:
"How can that be,
Giovanni?"
I've never even been close
enough to hold her hand.
And you think
this is a problem
an old science
professor can solve?
You've lived in Padua
all your life.
You might know
the family.
The name is
Rappaccini.
This girl is
called Beatrice?
Then you do know her?
I have never seen her.
No one has...
Except you,
apparently.
This is crazy.
20 years ago,
the girl's father,
Giacomo Rappaccini,
taught science
in this very room.
There were many who thought
he was destined to be
the greatest scientist
of our century.
Then, suddenly,
he gave up his career--
everything.
He locked himself
inside his house
and no one
has seen him since.
But what of Beatrice?
Surely, she--
she may have been
the cause of it.
No one really knows.
All that the people of Padua
have learned is that
after the girl
was born,
Rappaccini's wife
deserted him,
ran away
with another man.
That was when
he left the university
and locked his door
in the face of the world.
Come, come,
there are plenty
of other girls in Padua.
Thank you, professor.
You've been very kind.
What's the matter,
father?
Has it grown
too strong for you?
The radiation
from the acid's heat
has exceeded even
my expectations.
Nevertheless, you know
that I could destroy it
if I wished to.
But then I would die.
And you don't want
to lose us both...
Do you?
Beatrice.
You fail to see
the humor, father?
The infusion will
take three blooms.
You will get them.
We share the same life,
my friend,
only you're
the more fortunate.
You don't have
to think.
Lisabetta did well.
These are fine specimens.
Your daughter
is a fine specimen, too,
is she not, father?
A specimen of the
most deadly thing
that was ever given life.
The day will come
when you will thank me.
How long would it take
for me to die
if these infusions
didn't take place?
My only concern is
with your life.
No matter.
The only difference
in being dead
is that this house
is bigger than a grave.
10 seconds...
And the potency
is correct.
Shall we give
the poor creature
a burial, father?
We could inscribe
on its gravestone:
"It died that Beatrice
Rappaccini might live."
You never understand
how fortunate you are
that none of the world's
sin can touch you.
As it touched my--
I do not wish
to hear her name.
Of course not.
Lock it
from your mind,
as you've locked us
from the world.
The world?
What is this sudden picture
you have of the world?
A stupid boy
on a balcony?
Is that
what you see?
I see a human being
who can laugh,
and think of me
as a woman,
not death.
Good morning.
Good morning.
What a wonderful way
to greet the day,
seeing such loveliness.
We'd better not talk
very long today.
You're gonna be late for
your class at the university.
Let's see, now.
For the past month,
we have discussed philosophy,
history and world events,
and all
from my window.
You know what I
dreamed last night?
That you invited
me down there.
And I thought I was dead
because it was heaven.
It isn't, is it?
I think it must be heaven
to be able to go
to the university.
Giovanni,
you're going to be late.
You know you are.
All right,
my remote Princess, I'll go.
Now, hold onto that
until I see you again.
Oh, signore .
I have use
for this key.
Oh, no,
you mustn't.
No one is allowed
to go in there. No one.
I won't tell them
that you so generously
opened the gate for me.
I'll tell them I dropped
in from the sky
like an avenging angel.
No, signore ,
you mustn't.
Giovanni!
Don't!
Don't!
The insect will still
have the poison on it.
Poison?
I saw the
butterfly die--
burned.
What is it?
What happened?
Giovanni...
You had no right
to come in the garden.
If you kept
that kiss I threw you
from my window this morning,
then I have every right.
Here, these are for you.
Thank you,
Giovanni, but...
I can't.
You know,
the closer I get,
the more beautiful
you are?
Don't come closer,
please.
Don't ever
come closer.
Ever?
Please.
Put the flowers
on the bench.
Now, leave
the garden.
My father doesn't
want anyone to--
But why
not, my dear?
Have I ever prevented you
from having guests?
Father.
You should introduce me
to your young friend.
I'm your neighbor, sir.
Giovanni Guasconti.
My pleasure, sir.
I see that you find
my garden attractive.
Your garden has
many attractions, sir.
Giovanni, please.
Please, leave now.
But tomorrow
is Easter Sunday.
Surely, you can go
to church with me.
No. I've tried
to tell you.
But of course you can go to
church with him, my dear.
Why shouldn't you?
Did I say something
to offend her, sir?
Young ladies
are sometimes
very difficult
to understand,
Mr. Guasconti.
Perhaps tomorrow,
she'll--
Yes, perhaps.
Good day.
Good day, sir.
Did you feel
very superior, father,
making a fool
of us both?
Under the circumstances,
I thought I was most kind.
You see?
I even brought
your flowers to you.
It's strange, seeing flowers
that weren't meant to kill.
Well, here,
take them, my dear.
After all, he brought them
to you with his own hands.
He held them.
And now
you hold them.
A very pretty, sentimental
thought, is it not?
Giovanni!
Giovanni!
Giovanni,
I must talk to you.
Please, come down.
I'll open the gate.
Giovanni,
I had to talk to you.
Let's talk in town.
They'll be celebrating
for the holidays.
No. I can't go.
There's no place
I can go.
Haven't you realized
that by now?
This isn't a prison,
Beatrice.
That gate is open.
Oh Giovanni,
if it were only true.
That's why I must
talk to you.
Forget me, Giovanni.
Forget you
ever saw me.
Is that why you
called me down here?
To tell me
to forget you?
Why should I? I couldn't
forget you if I wanted to.
We must both forget,
Giovanni.
Beatrice, I don't--
No further.
Listen to me.
You must listen.
You saw the butterfly die
when it touched
that plant.
Yes.
You would die
if you touched me.
What kind
of nonsense is that?
Why should you
and that plant--
This is what
you must understand.
Do you expect me to believe
such ridiculous--
It's the truth.
Let my hand
touch yours.
Will I die?
Are you telling me
that if I should kiss you,
I'd fall dead,
as that butterfly did?
Yes. As air is your life,
so is poison mine.
This is the way I've been
ever since I was born.
Since my father
made me what I am.
Your father?
We're both his creations,
the plant and I.
He used its poisons to change
the chemistry of my blood.
I refuse
to accept such a--
Oh.
How can I make
you understand?
Wait.
Wait.
See that lizard,
Giovanni?
Watch it.
Watch that
poor creature die.
Do you still want me,
Giovanni?
Does it still seem so pleasant
to want me in your arms?
In god's name,
why has your father
done this?
So that I can never sin,
as my mother did.
So that no man can ever
touch me with evil.
Now you know.
Beatrice!
Beatrice.
Beatrice.
No! No!
Beatrice!
You tried to kill yourself.
You tried
to take your own life.
Oh!
I want to die.
Oh, please, let me die!
Beatrice, child, I only wanted
to protect you from trouble.
I never wanted
to see you hurt.
Did you think
I would never need
a man's love,
or his strength?
But all these years
we've had together,
it can't be ended
because of that boy.
You blame him?
Are you so insane
that you don't know
what you've done?
But to take your own life
because of him?
Do you think
I won't try again?
You won't always be
around to stop me.
It was right to
awaken me, Giovanni.
Never have I seen
anything like this.
The acid has
eaten away
every organ
of the lizard's body.
What kind of a monster
is this Rappaccini?
Is this what he has come
to call science?
He tried to warn me,
to keep me away.
How can I help her?
Perhaps it's impossible.
Patience, Patience,
Giovanni.
There are many things
I can try.
It will take time.
Now go home,
try to get some sleep.
No.
Please. There is nothing
you can do here.
If there's
any hope at all--
I'll let you know
at once.
Yes, sir.
And so, unfortunately,
Beatrice couldn't be here.
She was quite upset
by what happened.
I had to give her something
to make her sleep.
But then perhaps
it's just as well
that we talk
by ourselves.
When I realized
how serious things were
between the two of you,
I wanted you
to have an explanation.
An explanation,
or a hopeless apology
for what you've
done to her?
You think my knowledge
is so little
that I cannot undo
what I have done?
Do you think I would have
brought you here
to offer my daughter's
hand in marriage
if I did not think
you could be married?
If that is the truth--
Beatrice wants you.
Her happiness
is my only concern.
Sir, it is mine, too.
Good. Then shall
we drink on that?
Are you sure
Beatrice will be
all right, sir?
Yes.
I don't know what
your experiments were,
but if it had to do with
making her immune to poison--
You need not
concern yourself.
The greater feat,
Giovanni,
would have been
to make the human mind
immune to the poison of evil,
rather than
the poison of chemistry.
To the only two men
who will ever be
in my daughter's life.
Sir,
an hour ago,
I felt as if the world
had been pulled out
from under me.
Now the world is back
where it should be.
Whatever else
you learn in your life,
remember this:
There is no more
potent force,
nothing can drive a man
harder or faster
to success
or destruction,
than the love
of a woman.
I think I...
I didn't get
much sleep last...
What is this thing?
What are you doing?
It's already done.
What?
You wanted Beatrice,
didn't you?
You can have her now.
Do you understand that?
As long as you
both shall live,
there can never be
anyone else
for either of you.
There will be no evil
in your lives, no sin.
What are you saying?
Go to her, Giovanni.
Touch her.
Take her in your arms.
Kiss her.
Make her your wife.
Make her your wife.
Nothing can harm you now.
You changed me.
You stand alone,
the two of you,
against all of the foul
things in this world.
Why don't you
thank me?
Or are you speechless
with happiness?
You've made me
the same thing she is.
That's what you wanted,
didn't you?
Holy wedlock that no man
could put asunder?
You're out of your mind,
insane.
You had no right!
You had no right!
You'll come back,
Giovanni.
There's nowhere else
you can go.
You'll have
to come back.
There's no place
you can go.
You'll come back.
This terrible thing
that Rappaccini
has done to you
and his daughter...
Why, it's so complex.
Are you telling me
that you cannot help us?
I'm not sure.
I have said the problem
is complex.
What Rappaccini has
succeeded in doing,
is converting the poisonous
China tree of India,
so that the plant's
own juices manufacture
a strange solution
of hydrocyanic acid.
That's what
my blood has become?
That is what
I hope it has become.
What do you mean?
We know that to touch
the plant means death.
However, I have managed
to find an antidote
which will destroy all effects
of the acid's radiation.
Professor!
Under a microscope.
But how do I know
what it will do to you?
It would take years
of testing
to find the result
on the human system.
Years?
Every hour
is a thousand years.
Beatrice and I
have no time.
Give it to me.
Giovanni,
can my conscience
let you have it?
Can your conscience
refuse me?
No, please,
put it there.
Whatever happens, sir,
we will always be
in your debt.
May god go with you.
Beatrice!
Beatrice!
Beatrice.
There's no need to stay away
from me now.
What are you saying?
You still don't know
what happened last night?
You see,
I'm still alive.
Giovanni.
That was your
father's answer to us.
He couldn't change you,
so he changed me.
Oh, no.
Giovanni,
I didn't want that.
If I'd known...
Now we're both locked in.
We're both prisoners.
No, we can escape.
Professor Baglioni
made this.
It's an antidote.
He said it could
counteract the poison.
If it will
really free us...
Pray, Beatrice.
No!
Quickly, give it to me.
No, wait.
Giovanni!
Beatrice!
Oh, Giovanni!
Oh!
Oh!
The fool.
Poison was his life,
like yours.
It could only kill him.
You've murdered him.
But you wanted him.
I gave him to you.
You could have
been together.
Then, we will be.
Beatrice.
Beatrice.
Beatrice.
Beatrice,
Beatrice, child,
I only wanted
to give you happiness.
How could
you give me something
you don't have yourself?
You could
only give me hate.
Giovanni.
Giovanni.
Wait for me.
I'll always love you,
wherever I...
Giovanni.
Where does evil begin,
and where does it end?
Can the eye of man
discern the fine line
that separates
sanity from madness?
If not, can there be
a judge so wise
that he can measure
a man's reasons
for the sins he commits?
The House of the Seven Gables
began its existence
in a year of terror.
It was in 1691
that mass hysteria
gripped New England,
and innocent people
were executed as witches.
Yes, it was a time
of horror and blood,
and left a mark on the house
that was not to be forgotten
for more than 150 years.
So you've finally
dared to come back.
This is my wife Alice.
My sister Hannah.
Gerald, are you sure
we have a right to intrude?
Intrude?
This is as much my house
as it is my sister's.
Is that not so,
Hannah?
Your absence of 17 years
makes me question that right.
Would you please
take these up
to the second floor?
My feet took me
this far.
But they're
not taking me
one step further
into this house.
Why did he say that?
The man's an idiot.
It means nothing.
I wouldn't be
too sure, Gerald.
Don't you think
the whole town knows
a male Pyncheon
has returned?
I'm afraid we'll have to
carry these up ourselves.
You will occupy
your old room?
Yes.
If it's possible,
two rooms might be better.
Gerald is
a light sleeper.
He doesn't like
to disturb me.
Very well.
You may have
the guest room,
next to mine.
Hannah,
if our being here
is a great
inconvenience to you--
I can only say,
my brother made
a great mistake
in returning.
Hannah.
Yes?
May I ask why?
You really don't know,
do you?
Whatever
Gerald's reason
for coming here to live,
the decision was his.
It isn't the first
of his mistakes
I've had to accept.
What is it?
Oh,
I feel cold suddenly.
There's no draft here.
It's a strange kind
of cold.
I think I'll feel better
in the morning
when I can look out
the window
and see the garden,
the arbor,
the old well.
How did you know
what's outside that window?
The garden is there,
isn't it?
Yes, it's there.
I don't know how I knew
about the garden.
Gerald never told me.
Hannah, how could...
Afraid of a
bloodstained chair, Gerald?
Or does it hold
too much knowledge
of our illustrious male
ancestors who died in it?
Don't look forward
to my early death, Hannah.
I have no intention
of honoring the chair
with my corpse.
He didn't either.
You're a fool.
Has any man in our family
ever died otherwise?
Then, I shall be
the first not to.
I will not
be frightened away.
When I get what I want
from this house,
then I'll leave,
and not before.
Do you think
you can outwit a ghost?
Are you
so immune to death
that you can defy a curse
that has ruined this family?
I'll stay alive
as long as is necessary.
You don't have a choice.
The man buried under
this house won't wait.
Go back to your books
of demons and witchcraft.
They're your
only companions.
Why not?
It wasn't the dead
who gambled away
the family fortunes.
Now that you've
bankrupted us,
you think you can take
what is rightfully mine?
Yours?
You assume a great deal,
my dear sister.
You'll never find
that vault.
I've searched this house
from top to bottom,
just as every Pyncheon
has searched it
for 150 years.
The ghost won't
let you find it.
It isn't where
you look for it.
It's how.
Now let us see
if a dead man can stop me.
Where's Gerald going?
He didn't say.
But if you want
Gerald to live,
get him out
of this house.
To live?
Do you see
those bloodstains?
That was his blood.
It ran from his lips.
The date is
on his gravestone:
March 17th, 1691,
the very first night
he lived in this house.
The Pyncheons
are cursed.
Every male member
of the family
has died the same way.
And unless
Gerald leaves,
he too will die
with blood on his lips.
Since we both
live here now,
you can at least tell me
who's coming tonight.
You'll find out
when he gets here.
What are you hiding,
Gerald?
I saw you run out of
the house this afternoon.
If it's about
finding the vault,
I'm entitled to know.
Are you entitled to meddle
in my private affairs?
You had no right
to tell Alice
about the bloodstains
on the chair.
How long
do you think
you can hold back
the truth?
Perhaps your visitor
isn't coming.
The time is long past
when the Pyncheons
could give orders
and everyone
had to obey.
You finally
decided to join us.
Is your
empty room
so much
better company?
Somebody's coming.
What are you saying?
There's no one out there.
His name
is Jonathan Maule.
Jonathan Maule?
Is he the one
you expect?
Yes. And if you have
any objections,
I don't care
to hear them.
Who told you Jonathan Maule
was coming here tonight?
Nobody told me.
He's here.
Jonathan Maule
has come.
She's right.
He's here.
How could you know
about a man named
Jonathan Maule?
Have you ever met him?
No, I haven't.
Hannah, how could I know
he was coming?
How?
You couldn't know,
unless something
in this house
Made you know.
Mr. Pyncheon?
Yes, you got my note?
I returned home
late from my business.
I heard music outside.
Yes, my wife was playing.
We can talk
in the study,
Mr. Maule.
Mrs. Pyncheon,
that music,
where did you learn it?
I...
I never played it before.
I never even
heard it before.
Mr. Maule?
I'm sorry.
Forgive me for
barging in this way.
I was just surprised.
We can talk now,
Mr. Maule.
Miss Pyncheon.
I never expected
to see you in this house.
I never expected
to be invited.
Have a seat,
Mr. Maule.
I am not disregarding
the long unpleasantness
that has existed
between our families, sir.
But I always say
that good whiskey
is better than oil
to toss on troubled waters.
And so,
your health, sir.
It's not like a Pyncheon
to ask a Maule to
pass the time of day.
No, of course not,
not unless they both
had something to gain.
Our ancestors
would say
the Pyncheons
did all the gaining.
We live in an enlightened
age, Mr. Maule.
A family feud
that began in 1690
can scarcely
affect us.
What is it you want,
Pyncheon?
I would like to make
a trade with you, sir.
For generations,
your family has been
in possession
of certain information.
Are you referring
to the vault
hidden in this house?
Precisely, sir.
Your ancestor was
the architect of this place.
He would've known
where the vault is.
Didn't your sister
tell you
that she tried to find out
what I know 10 years ago?
I presumed she had.
But I have a different
proposition to make, sir:
The House of the Seven Gables,
for your information.
What are you offering me,
Pyncheon?
A decayed tomb,
built on land that was stolen
from my ancestors?
The courts settled that
issue 150 years ago, sir.
Courts that
the Pyncheons
controlled.
If I did know
where the vault is,
you couldn't get it out
of me at any price.
My family has
suffered enough
from the curse that was
put on them by a Maule.
Have you explained that
to the man buried
in your cellar?
I say that the curse
is finished.
The past stays
in the past.
Does it?
The curse said
that the Pyncheons
would have
blood to drink.
Are you so sure now
that the past
stays in the past?
Mrs. Pyncheon.
Mr. Maule, please.
You seemed to
understand something
about the music
I was playing tonight,
more than
I understand myself.
The music is very old.
The only time
I ever heard it
was when I was a child
and my grandmother played it.
And still, I know it.
I seem to know many things
I shouldn't know,
and always when a
strange, cold chill
comes over me,
as if it was
possessing me.
I knew your name
before I heard it.
I could sense
that you were
at the door
before you knocked.
Then, what you
want from me
is an explanation.
Mr. Maule,
if there is one,
please, I must know.
How can I explain
my own impressions tonight?
When I got
your husband's note,
I wasn't going to come.
But something
kept coming to my mind,
compelling me to come.
I swear that while I was
still in my own home,
I could see you
playing that music.
It was your face,
the very dress
you're wearing,
the way your hands
moved the keys.
I knew you as though
I'd known you
since I was born,
or even before that.
Yes, I think I felt
the same way myself.
But we never met
before tonight.
What's happening to us,
Mr. Maule?
You know, there is
a curse against this house.
Hannah told me
something.
Did she also tell
you that the man
who spoke that curse
against the Pyncheons,
Matthew Maule,
was buried
under the house?
Last night,
my door opened,
but there was nobody there,
and yet someone, or something,
came into my room.
I could feel
that it was there.
And when it was gone,
I found this,
this locket.
This painting, it's of you.
No.
I don't know
who she is,
and I don't know
what the locket means.
I wasn't going to meet you
out here like this,
but something
drove me to it
so I could
give it to you.
Then, perhaps
it has the answer for us.
I don't know what
that answer can be.
I'm not so sure
that I want to know.
I'm going to leave here.
I'm going to forget
that the house of seven
gables ever existed.
Alice!
Alice?
Alice!
Alice, I want to talk to you.
Gerald, we have nothing
to talk about.
All I want to do
is get out of this house.
You'll leave
when I tell you.
Gerald, I can't
stand anymore.
I feel as if
I'm losing my mind.
Please don't try
to stop me.
I'm going to leave
first thing in the morning.
Alice, you are my wife.
You'll do as I--
Nora.
Nora.
Nora.
Nora.
Matthew,
you've come,
after all these years
of waiting.
Nora.
You called
me Matthew.
Why, there...
There was
another man here.
He...
He had a leather apron
of a blacksmith.
Matthew Maule had
his blacksmith's forge here,
near this well,
before the House
of the Seven Gables
was built.
What did he
want of me?
Why did he have me
come down to the garden?
Perhaps because
he knew I'd be here.
I said to you that I felt
as if I might have known
you before I was born.
Now I think it was
long before that.
I think what we feel
might have begun
150 years ago.
Was the locket
supposed to tell us that?
I believe so.
Alice,
was your grandmother's
name Holbrook,
Deborah Holbrook?
Oh.
How did you know that?
I've been going
through old papers
and records since
you gave me the locket.
Alice, the girl
in the locket
is Nora Holbrook.
Matthew called me Nora.
Nora Holbrook
was the girl
Matthew was to marry
before he was hanged.
He was condemned
as a witch
by colonel
Jeffrey Pyncheon,
because Pyncheon
wanted this land,
the land we're on
right now.
Then, why is
Matthew's grave there?
When Pyncheon wanted
the house built,
he was forced to use
the only architect in town,
Matthew's brother.
Oh, these were
superstitious times, Alice.
Pyncheon defied
Matthew's curse,
despite the brother
wanting to make
it come true.
The curse
has come true.
Alice, that music
you played.
Yes?
It was music Nora Holbrook
wrote for Matthew.
Can't you understand?
Matthew was hanged
before he and Nora
could realize their love.
But that love
didn't die with Matthew.
He wants it to live again,
through us.
Jonathan,
we can't have that love.
Then, why have we been
drawn together this way
if we are supposed
to love each other?
Are you about to do
something you'll regret?
Get out of my way.
I saw them
from my window.
Then you know why I'm
going to kill Maule.
Kill the one
chance you have
of finding the vault?
Can you be so blind
that you haven't realized
that they are
the key?
They? You're insane.
I want my share
of the money.
I'll not let you spoil it.
Am I supposed to let him
take away my wife?
You can't eat pride.
When you find the vault,
then you can do
whatever you want.
Not now.
Jonathan.
I'm still
Gerald's wife.
Please leave now.
Alice--
We won't see
each other again.
All right.
I only wish
that I had the right
to speak
for my own love,
not Matthew's.
Nora.
Nora.
Nora.
Why did you
come down here?
I can't tell you.
Why not?
Did Jonathan Maule
send you down here?
No.
Don't lie.
He told you where
he vault is.
Why, that's not true.
Shall I force you
to tell me the truth?
What is it?
Are you ready to open
doors to Jonathan
that you've kept
locked from me?
Gerald!
Ah!
Who can be
in the house?
What is it, Alice?
The ghost
of Matthew Maule?
Why?
Has he been conjured up
out of his grave
by Jonathan to come
between you and me?
Is that what he wants?
I told you
to leave this house.
You brought back
Matthew Maule,
you and no one else.
If I'm the one
you want, Maule,
then here I am.
I'm waiting.
Destroy me
if you can.
Because if you don't,
I'll get what I want,
and then you
will have lost.
Get some water,
Gerald.
It is blood.
Some water!
What did you expect?
The water is
from Maule's well.
The plaster in the walls
is mixed with it.
Did you expect
anything else
but blood from
Matthew Maule?
But I'm still here,
Hannah.
And I haven't
tasted blood yet.
If this is the extent
of Maule's revenge,
then he can't stop me
from finding that vault.
It's moving.
Do you mind if I watch?
Then I can be sure
we'll share whatever you find.
If that old deed to the land
in Maine is in the vault,
it'll be worth millions.
More than enough
for both of us.
His arm,
it's gone.
Matthew Maule
was a blacksmith,
a man with two arms.
Jonathan sent
Alice down here.
The secret to the vault
must be in the grave.
The portrait in the study.
And this arrow,
it could mean a lever
was concealed there.
You were right.
Jonathan Maule and
my wife were the key.
They wanted the
deed for themselves.
Are you satisfied now?
A Pyncheon has
outlasted the Maules.
Are you sure you will
be that Pyncheon?
This says that I will.
Or do you have some
ambitious notion
concerning yourself?
The power of the curse
was never directed
against
a Pyncheon woman.
I shall be
quite content
to share the new
fortune with you,
as long as you live.
You seem very confident,
my dear sister.
It was you who told me
my natural companions
are witches and demons.
What do I have to fear?
Shall we go upstairs
and share our victory?
Why not? It's a night
for celebration.
But I intend
to celebrate it alone.
You killed her!
Your own sister,
in god's name!
Where would you run,
to the police?
You want me hanged
as a murderer
so that you can
go to Jonathan,
is that it?
He told me not to come
back in this house.
He knew it was evil.
He told me
what was here.
Let me go!
Yes of course,
my dear wife.
I'll let you go
to Jonathan.
On second thought,
suppose we compromise,
and I give you to
a different Maule?
Gerald!
Gerald!
Aagh!
Aagh!
Aagh!
Alice.
Alice!
Alice!
Alice!
Alice!
Alice!
The last Pyncheon
has died.
The curse is ended.
Thus did the House
of the Seven Gables
come to its end:
destroyed by the decay
of greed and hate
that had corroded
its very foundations.
It was a time now
for Matthew Maule
to find peace.