控方证人 Witness for the Prosecution(1957)【完整台词】

(GAVEL)

Silence. Be upstanding in court.

All persons who have anything
to do before my lords,

the queen's justices of oyer and
terminer and general jail delivery

for the jurisdiction of the
Central Criminal Court

draw near and give your attendance.
God save the queen.

What a beautiful day. I've been hoping
for a bit of sun for our homecoming.

It's worth having the fog just to appreciate
the sunshine. Is there a draught?

- Shall I roll up the window?
- Roll up your mouth. You talk too much.

If I'd known how much you talked
I'd never have come out of my coma.

- This thing weighs a ton.
- Now, now.
We've been flat on our back for two
months, we'd better be careful.

Lovely, lovely. It must be perfectly lovely
to live and work in the Inns of Court.

How lucky you lawyers are.

I almost married a lawyer. I was
in attendance for his appendectomy

and we became engaged as
soon as he could sit up.

And then peritonitis set
in and he went like that.

He certainly was a lucky lawyer.

Teeny-weeny steps, now. Remember
we had a teeny-weeny heart attack.

Oh, shut up!

Williams, my cane.

Here he comes!

Good afternoon. Thank you very
much. Everybody back to work.

Sir Wilfrid, if you don't mind, I'd like
to read you a poem to welcome you back.

Very touching. You can recite it
after office hours in your own time.
Now back to work.
What's the matter with you?

Nothing. I'm just happy that
you're your old self again.

Any more sentimentality around here,
I shall go back to the hospital!

They won't take him back. He wasn't
really discharged, you know,

he was expelled for conduct
unbecoming a cardiac patient.

Put these in water, blabbermouth!
Come on in, Carter.

Look at this room.
It's ugly, old and musty.

But I never knew I could
miss anything so much.

- Missed you too, you musty old buzzard.
- Oh, thank you, sir.

I'm not a religious man, but when they
carted you off, I went out and lit a candle.

- Why, thank you, Carter.
- Actually, sir, I was lighting it for myself.

If anything happened to you, what
would happen to me, after 37 years?

37 years!
Has it been all that long?

Yes, sir. This is 1952, that was in October
1915. The Shepherd's Bush murder.

The chemist accused of putting
cyanide in his uncle's toothpaste.

My first murder trial. I was more
frightened than the defendant.

First time I rose to make an objection,
my wig fell off. Where's my wig?

Right here.

- I've guarded it with me life.
- I hope it still fits.

I lost 30lbs in that
wretched hospital.

Still, I suppose my
head isn't any smaller.

What's all this?

- We've put it in mothballs.
- Mothballs? Am I not to practise again?

Of course. The solicitors have
been breaking down our doors.

- I've got some interesting briefs for you.
- That's better.

Divorce case, a tax appeal, and an
important marine insurance claim.

- Nice smooth matters with excellent fees.
- No, Carter.

I'm sorry, but you're not to undertake
any criminal cases. Your doctors have...

Doctors! They've deprived me of
alcohol, tobacco, female companionship.

If only they'd let me do
something worthwhile!

Sorry, sir.

Might as well get a bigger box,
more mothballs, put me away too.

- 2:30, Sir Wilfrid. Time for our little nap!
- Oh, get out!

Beddy-bye. We'd better go upstairs
now, get undressed and lie down.

- We? What a nauseating prospect.
- Upstairs, please.

Are you aware that,
while on my sickbed,

I seriously considered strangling you
with one of your own rubber tubes.

I would then have admitted the crime,
retained myself for the defence.

My lord, members of the jury, I hereby
enter a plea of justifiable homicide.

For four months this alleged angel
of mercy has pored, probed,

punctured, pillaged and
plundered my helpless body

while tormenting my mind with
a steady drip of baby talk.

Come along now,
like a good boy. Oh, no.

Take your hands off me,
or I'll strike you with my cane.

- You wouldn't, it might break your cigars.
- What cigars?

- The ones you're smuggling in your cane.
- Cane?

You could be jailed for this.
You had no search warrant.

In hospital he'd hide cigars
and brandy all over the place.

We called him Wilfrid the fox.

- I'm confiscating these.
- Can't I have just one?

No. Upstairs.

A few puffs after meals? Please.

I'll do it. Some dark night when her back
is turned, I'll snatch her thermometer

and plunge it between her shoulder
blades. So help me, I will.

Oh, no, sir. You mustn't walk up. We've
installed something for you here. It's a lift.

A lift? I'm sick of this plot
to make me a helpless invalid.

I think it's a splendid idea.
Let's try it, shall we?

Out of there. I'll try it. It's my
lift because it was my heart attack.

Here you are. Simply press this
button for up and this one for down.

Carter, I warn you, if this
contraption should collapse,

if the barrister should
fall off the bannister...

Remarkable. Smoothest
flight I've had in years.

- Upsy-daisy!
- Once more to get the feel of the controls.

Good afternoon. Is it
possible to see Sir Wilfrid?

I didn't make an appointment,
but this is urgent.

If it's about a brief, I'm sorry, but we're
full. Sir Wilfrid has all that he can handle.

I'm sure he'll want this brief.

Serious criminal matter.

Absolutely not, Mr Mayhew.
Sir Wilfrid is still convalescent.

He can't accept anything of
an overstimulating nature.

Put me on a diet of bland
civil suits. Hello, Mayhew.

Hello. Distressing news
about your health.

It's tragic. You'd better get
a man with younger arteries.

If you could just give us a few minutes.
This is Mr Leonard Vole.

- He's in rather a ghastly mess, I'm afraid.
- How do you do, Mr Vole?

Well, according to Mr Mayhew,
I'm not doing at all well.

Sir Wilfrid! Sir Wilfrid!

- You're dawdling again!
- Oh, shut up!

Sorry, Mayhew. Try me again when
you've something not too stimulating.

Like a postman bitten
by a stray dog.

I wish you could help us, Wilfrid, but I
quite understand. Take care of yourself.

Mayhew! Mayhew!

Oh, no. Sir Wilfrid, please.

Don't worry, we won't take the
brief, but an old friend needs help.

Surely I can give him
a word of advice.

Come on, I'll give you five minutes.
No, no, I don't want you, just Mayhew.

Our nap! Sir Wilfrid! Our nap!

You go ahead. Start it without me.

This is your fault. You
should not have permitted it.

It is not my fault. I distinctly
told Sir Wilfrid no criminal cases.

Well, if it's anyone's fault,
I expect it's mine.

Seems silly to me, but Mr
Mayhew thinks it's very urgent.

- He thinks I may be arrested any minute.
- Arrested for what?

Well, for murder.

Oh!

It's the case of Emily French. You've
probably seen reports in the press.

Middle-aged widow, well-off, living
with a housekeeper at Hampstead.

Mr Vole had been with her earlier.

When the housekeeper returned,
she found her dead,

struck on the back of
the head and killed.

Vole seems caught in a web
of circumstantial evidence.

Perhaps if I gave you the details you'd
suggest the strongest line of defence.

- I'd probably think better with a cigar.
- Of course.

No previous convictions. He's of good
character with an excellent war record.

- You'd like him a lot.
- They've confiscated the matches. A light.

The defence may tum on establishing
an alibi for the night of the murder.

- I haven't got any. Let me get you some.
- Lord, no! You don't know Miss Plimsoll.

This will take all our cunning.

Young man!

Come here, please.

Your solicitor and I feel you may be able
to enlighten me on an important point.

- Yes. Thank you.
- Sir Wilfrid!

You're not in bed yet? Upstairs!

- Give me a match.
- Sorry, I never carry them.

- What? You said I'd like him.
- But I do have a lighter.

You're quite right, Mayhew,
I do like him. Thank you.

Can you imagine Miss Plimsoll's
face if she saw me now?

Then let's make absolutely
sure that she doesn't.

Splendid. All the instincts
of a skilled criminal.

- Thank you, sir.
- Here.

Whether or not you murdered
a middle-aged widow,

you certainly saved the life
of an elderly barrister.

I haven't murdered anybody.
It's absurd.

Christine, that's my wife, she thought
I may be implicated and needed a lawyer.

That's why I went to see Mr Mayhew.
Now he thinks he needs a lawyer

and now I have two lawyers.
It's rather silly.

I am a solicitor.
Sir Wilfrid is a barrister.

Only a barrister can actually
plead a case in court.

- Oh, I see.
- She shall not even find the ashes.

- Sit down.
- Thank you.

I saw in the paper that Mrs French had
been found dead with her head bashed in.

It also said the police were anxious to
interview me since I visited that evening.

- Naturally, I went to the police station.
- Did they caution you?

I don't quite know. They asked
if I'd like to make a statement

and said they'd write it down and it might
be used against me. Is that a caution?

Well, it can't be helped now.

- They seemed quite satisfied.
- They seemed satisfied, Mr Vole.

He thinks that he made a statement and
that's the end of it. Isn't it obvious

that you will be regarded as the principal
suspect? I'm afraid you'll be arrested.

I've done nothing!
Why should I be arrested?

This is England! You don't get arrested
or convicted for crimes you haven't done.

We try not to make a habit of it.

But it does happen,
though, doesn't it?

Of course. There was that case of that
fellow, whatshisname, Adolph Beck.

In jail for years and they suddenly
found it was another chap.

- He'd been innocent!
- Unfortunate, but restitution was made.

He received a pardon, a bounty from the
crown, and was restored to normal life.

That's all right for him. What if it
had been murder? What if he'd hanged?

How would they have restored
him to his normal life then?

Mr Vole, you must not take
such a morbid point of view.

It's just when you say these things are
closing in on me, it's like a nightmare.

Relax. You're in the hands of the finest,
most experienced barrister in London.

Let's get this straight. I may have
done something highly unethical.