♪ ♪ PHILEAS: I'm going to circumnavigate the globe in 80 days.

(laughing) PHILEAS: Someone will achieve this.

Well, it won't be you.

It will, actually.

You have yourself a wager, sir.

Phileas, you can't go on your own!

Well, I won't be on my own.

PHILEAS: My companions: Abigail Fix...

I'm here to cover your progress for "The Daily Telegraph."

PHILEAS: ...and Passepartout.

I've been sent by the agency, monsieur, your new valet-- at your service.

Let the adventure begin.

ABIGAIL: What qualities would you say define you and will drive you on?

BELLAMY: Some are born to adventure and others are not.

(Passepartout grunts) No!

(crowd shouting) (grunting) PHILEAS: This really is the only way to travel!

What could possibly go wrong?

(laughs) ♪ ♪ A team.

A team, yes.

PHILEAS: Nothing can stop us now.

Around the world, my friends, in 80 days!

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (clocks ticking, pendulums swinging) (mechanisms whirring) (clocks ticking) (crowd clamoring faintly) (crowd grows louder) (clamoring stops) (Grayson breathing heavily) (watch ticking) (door closes, Grayson breathing heavily) (bird twittering) PHILEAS: Morning, Grayson.

Morning, sir.

We really must get some bigger cups.

Just allow me, sir.

(clock chiming hour) What's that, Grayson?

Sir?

This postcard.

(clocks chiming hour) ♪ ♪ Where did this come from, Grayson?

There's no postmark.

♪ ♪ (stammering) Grayson!

Who brought this postcard into my house?

(stammering): The postman, sir.

PHILEAS: That'll be all.

GRAYSON: Is it bad news, sir?

(door opens) ♪ ♪ (mechanical bell rings) (bell stops, people talking in background) ABIGAIL: Why aren't the presses rolling?

Are we late?

Oh, we can't be late, miss.

Your father would have us all sacked.

(chuckles) Don't worry, Miss Fortescue-- typeset every letter myself.

Worried?

I'm not worried.

It's just my first credit, that's all.

Nothing remotely important.

♪ ♪ (mechanical bell rings, machinery whirring) MAN: Presses rolling!

(bell stops) (Abigail gasps) Here, miss.

(presses clattering) ♪ ♪ (horse neighs) (bell tolls) (people talking softly) ♪ ♪ EDITH: Morning, Passepartout.

Or, "Bonjour, ma chérie," I think it was?

(quietly): Come here.

(dishes clattering, people talking) PASSEPARTOUT (quietly): Edith... Lovely, pretty Edith.

Passepartout.

(giggles) How I envy him.

Who?

The man out there who is going to meet you, fall in love with you, marry you, have children with you.

But, but I, I've already met him.

It's you, Passepartout.

(sighs) You deserve much more than me.

Find a good man, a man who wants to settle down.

(gasps sadly) ♪ ♪ It's for the best, chérie, I promise you.

(Roberts clears throat) We're here to work!

(people talking in background) ♪ ♪ (people talking quietly) FALLENTIN: Morning, Fogg.

Late this morning, Foggy?

Not like you.

Everything all right?

Everything's fine.

Why wouldn't it be fine?

Mm.

I like this piece, Fortescue.

With the opening of the railway between Rothal and Allahabad, this fellow Penrose claims it's now possible to circumnavigate the globe in a mere 80 days.

(laughs) Absolute rot, of course.

No, it's not rot, actually.

Well, what I mean to say is, if a man was well-organized, and of a resilient and indefatigable nature, took advantage of recent technological advances... (Fortescue laughs) You and your "technological advances."

PHILEAS: No, I'm serious, Fortescue.

Only last night I was reading about a balloon contraption a chap in Paris has invented, a Mr. Lôme.

(Bellamy scoffs) Imagine going up in a balloon invented by a Frenchman.

Oh!

Um...

Sorry.

(in French): Excuse my hands, Monsieur.

(in French): I shall have the hake in herb butter.

Bellamy?

Uh... Pork chop.

Green beans.

And Mr. Fogg will have his usual brown Windsor soup and then the boiled beef.

(in French): If you recall, I once planned such an excursion myself.

Not in 80 days, obviously, but...

I could have done it.

Yes, I remember it well.

You made it as far as Victoria Station.

Dover, actually.

Some are born to adventure and others, frankly, are not.

Do you remember that time he cried when matron told him not to wear a vest in August?

Now, that's enough, Bellars.

PASSEPARTOUT: The brown Windsor.

ROBERTS: Madam!

Madam, this is members only!

No women allowed!

ABIGAIL: Really?

Watch me!

(men murmuring) Good Lord!

Madam!

Madam, please... ABIGAIL: There you are.

Abigail!

What on Earth... Can you tell me what is wrong with this otherwise carefully researched and expertly conveyed article?

Abigail, would you please calm down?

I'll enlighten you, shall I, Father?

It appears to have been written by a Mr. Charles Penrose.

Well, I have my readers to consider.

It's 1872!

Would your readership really suffer a mass coronary if they discovered a woman had written this?

Now, Abigail, this is neither the time nor the place.

I'm very sorry, madam, I must insist you leave.

You're frightening the members.

My office, 2:00.

We'll discuss the matter then.

Will you please show the lady out?

(men murmuring) (murmuring) Terribly sorry about that.

No, no, not at all.

(clears throat) Seems to have grown into a very fine young lady.

Yes, I think so.

If you want my advice, Madame... (scoffs): Which I do not.

...you're best out of it.

This is a place where souls come to die.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ SOUS CHEF (voiceover): One roly-poly pudding, one Eton mess, and one spotted dick.

She may be a woman, Fortescue, but your daughter's written a fascinating piece.

Everything would have to run in a chap's favor, of course-- weather, war, rail, sail-- but it's possible.

It's more than possible.

Someone will achieve this.

Well, it won't be you.

Oh, leave the man alone, Bellars.

PASSEPARTOUT: One spotted dick.

Now, let's see if the new chef has mastered the sultana ratio.

PASSEPARTOUT: Roly-poly.

(clock ticking) (mechanism whirs and clicks) And the Eton mess.

(mechanism clicks) (watch ticking) PASSEPARTOUT (in French): (mechanism whirring) (clicks) It will, actually.

Sorry, Fogg?

What will what?

I'm going to circumnavigate the globe in 80 days.

Or less.

(laughing) (men laughing) (chuckling): My dear fellow.

Has something happened, Fogg?

Nothing's happened.

Not for years.

I'll start today.

(pocket watch ticking) 1:00.

(pocket watch closes) Well, with any luck, I'll make the overnight sailing from Dover to Calais.

By Jove, I think he's serious!

Never more so, Bellamy.

Care to put your money where your mouth is?

Absolutely not.

Now, you stop this foolishness, both of you.

♪ ♪ 10,000 pounds.

FORTESCUE: What?

(men murmuring) BELLAMY: 10,000 pounds.

(men murmuring) What do you say, Fogg?

Or are you just like that Froggy balloon, full of hot air?

♪ ♪ 20,000.

(men gasp, murmur excitedly) You have yourself a wager, sir.

♪ ♪ I'll see you all back here no later than 1:00 on... ...Christmas Eve.

(laughs) (bell rings hour) (dishes clattering) Please, Edith... (weeping): Just leave me alone.

PASSEPARTOUT: Please, don't cry.

You.

Leave her alone.

That was my intention.

But the lady is crying, and I will not stand... Stop it!

Kelly, stop!

Edith, after you have finished your shift, we'll go to the park and I will explain why...

I told you to leave the girl alone!

(punches, woman gasps) What is going on here?

Sir, I never... (grunting, women screaming) ROBERTS: Stop it!

Both of you!

You French... ♪ ♪ (panting) PASSEPARTOUT: Are we finished?

(people gasping, exclaiming) He fainted.

Good God!

Call the police!

PASSEPARTOUT (in French): ROBERTS: You stay where you are!

FORTESCUE (voiceover): Phileas... Phileas, you can't go on your own!

Well, I won't be on my own.

Grayson will be with me.

Grayson?

He hasn't left the house in 20 years!

Yeah... Bellboy?

Yes, sir?

(snaps fingers, drops coins on counter) (murmurs) Thank you.

(horse whinnies) FORTESCUE: Phileas!

Phileas, please!

Come back!

BELLAMY: Fogg!

Maybe the best man win!

Thank you.

See you in the morning!

(laughing) (police whistle blowing, carriages clattering) ♪ ♪ (keys jangling) (key turning) PASSEPARTOUT: Allow me, Monsieur.

Can I help you?

I've been sent by the agency, Monsieur.

Your new valet.

(grunts) ROBERTS: Call the police!

FORTESCUE: Phileas, you can't go on your own!

PHILEAS: Bellboy!

BELLBOY: Yes, sir?

Get round to Fritton's Agency quick smart, have them send their finest man to this address.

Of course, sir.

FORTESCUE: Phileas, please!

Come back!

Monsieur Roberts has asked for you urgently.

I'll take care of this.

(in French): Ah!

You're the best on their books?

(police whistle blowing) OFFICER: Stay back, please.

(whistle blowing) Nobody better.

Do you have a name?

(turns key) Passepartout, Monsieur, at your service.

Pass... Passepartout.

Passepartout.

(dog barking) Right.

Well, come inside.

PASSEPARTOUT: May I?

(door closes) I should warn you, I am going around the world in 80 days.

Oh, splendid.

"Splendid"?

That doesn't worry you?

Why would it, Monsieur?

(gasps): Oh...

Languages?

(safe unlocking) French... (speaking French): Italian and German, Spanish, a smattering of Cantonese, Russian, and, uh, I can say "Where is the fire escape?"

in Swahili.

Have we met?

Uh, I, I don't think so.

Well, don't just stand there, man, go and pack my bags!

(bird chirps) Eveningwear, loungewear... Grayson will show you what I need.

Go on.

♪ ♪ FORTESCUE (voiceover): He is the most timid, unprepared man in Christendom.

I'll require expenses, of course, and I'll telegram you whenever I can.

What on Earth are you talking about?

My contract for my new regular column: "Around the World With Abigail Fix."

If you seriously think I'm going to let my only child follow this charade even as far as the Strand...

I'm not even reading it.

I wonder if "The Times" would be interested in this story.

Damn it, Abigail!

You know even less of the world than Fogg!

And, my God, that is saying something.

(mechanical bell ringing in distance) Why your mother's maiden name?

Because I'm sick of being the famous Mr. Fortescue's daughter.

I'm going to be a proper writer.

You can be a proper writer here!

No, I can't.

You proved that today.

Expenses only.

And my name on the column: Abigail Fix, not A.

Fix, Teutonic Regular, ten point minimum, and... You really are the most impossible creature.

(giggling) (Abigail chuckles) Please...

Please be careful.

What time does Fogg sail?

6:00-- if he gets that far.

He'd better have, or he'll have me to deal with.

♪ ♪ Abigail...

There's no shame in changing your mind.

♪ ♪ ABIGAIL: This is what I was born to do.

(door closes) ♪ ♪ Are you sure you don't want me to come with you, sir?

No.

You must stay here and make sure the household runs as clockwork.

See you on Christmas Eve, Grayson.

I'll be waiting right here, sir.

A cab won't call itself.

(whistles loudly) (cab approaching) DRIVER: Whoa!

Next stop Paris.

Paris?

Capital of France.

I know it's...

I didn't know we were going to Paris.

Yes, we have to change trains for Turin.

Just to change trains?

Yes.

(horse neighs) Something the matter?

We have a boat to catch!

Everything is perfect, Monsieur.

Then let the adventure begin.

(vomiting) (coughing) (groans) I think I'm dying.

Hello.

Miss Fortescue.

Miss Fix, actually, when I'm working.

(Phileas groans) Monsieur is just getting his sea legs.

(groans) (boat whistle blowing) What on Earth are you doing here?

I'm here to cover your progress for "The Daily Telegraph."

What?

No.

Oh, no!

No, no, no!

No!

The last thing I want is some journalist coming with me.

Think of the publicity.

(stammering) That's exactly what I am thinking about-- no.

(stammering): Absolutely not.

That's out of the question.

Such a shame, Mademoiselle.

I think we would have enjoyed each other's company.

Aren't you the waiter from the Reform Club?

As the gentleman said, have a safe trip back.

(wind howling, Phileas groans) PASSEPARTOUT: Your hat, Monsieur!

It has gone home.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (seagulls squawking) "Paris: The Turbulent City."

Do you mind?

You can't learn about a city from reading a book.

You're very forward for a servant, or a waiter, or whatever you are tonight.

I'm just a man, Mademoiselle.

Where's Mr. Fogg?

He's still revisiting his brown Windsor soup and boiled beef.

(boat engine chugging) ♪ ♪ ABIGAIL (voiceover): Do you think he's going to make it around the world in 80 days?

(laughing) I hope and believe he'll prove you wrong.

Oh.

Why do you think he, he doesn't want a journalist with him?

Because deep down, he knows he will fail.

PASSEPARTOUT (voiceover): And he doesn't want you telling the world when he does.

Have you got anything to drink?

No!

Then I will bid you good night, Mademoiselle.

(boat engine chugging) ♪ ♪ (crowd shouting, whistling) (man singing in French) The police are closing all the railway stations?

You can't be serious!

PASSEPARTOUT: Until all this is over.

PHILEAS: Well, when will that be?

This is France, Monsieur-- it could be decades.

(song continues) You stay here, I'll get a cab.

How long will you be?

Don't worry, they don't behead rich people anymore.

I don't think.

(people chanting in French): PHILEAS: Oh, sorry.

(chanting continues) (song and chanting continue) (horse whinnying) (song continues) (Abigail gasps) (song ends, people shouting) ABIGAIL (in French): You rude man!

(shouting continues) (Abigail groans) Miss Fix?

Mr. Fogg is not going to like it.

Then he will have to lump it.

Who was that man who knocked me over?

Nobody.

You'd better come with us.

Le Grand Hôtel!

(in French): (shouting continues) PASSEPARTOUT: This way, Monsieur!

MAN (in French): (shouting continues) PHILEAS: Is it always like this in France?

PASSEPARTOUT: Always.

(shouting continues, horse whinnying) Miss Fix, I thought I made my position perfectly clear.

You did, and I've decided to ignore you.

What is this all about?

The government crossed the Paris Commune.

Now the people protest against our glorious president, Marie Joseph Louis Adolphe Thiers.

Not a popular chap, I take it.

He once passed a law that said the poorest could no longer vote.

Well, I'm sure he had his reasons.

DRIVER (in French): (carriage moving) (pounds twice, carriage stops) Ants in your pants?

I will meet you in the foyer of Le Grand Hôtel in an hour, Monsieur.

Where are you going?

This is going to take some time.

(door opens) I will organize the hire of a carriage to pick up the train in Italy.

ABIGAIL (in French): PASSEPARTOUT: There will only be room for two people in the carriage.

PHILEAS: You're my valet!

You can't just... (door closes) (shouting continues outside) I can't fall at the first hurdle.

That would be ridiculous.

Never be able to show my face in the Reform Club again.

Waiter, valet... What do you know about our Mr. Passepartout?

I mean, really know.

I'm not talking to you, Miss Fix, as you are currently on the ferry sailing back to Dover.

(pounding): Why aren't we moving?

(pounds, carriage starts) (pounds twice) Where are you going?

If I'm going around the world, I want to know who I'm going around it with.

(door opens) You are not going around the world, you are going back to London!

Miss Fix... (door closes) (carriage starts) (crowd shouting) (crowd chanting in French) (people shouting, drums pounding) (footsteps approaching) What is the English word for fatigante?

Tiresome.

What are you doing?

This is where my father's life ended.

Where he was killed.

Who killed him?

The government of France.

Why?

Because he was strong, and brave.

And kind.

Because he believed in a better world.

You must be very proud of him.

I didn't want a dead hero, Miss Fix.

I wanted a father.

GÉRARD: Yes.

Yes, we are, Madame.

Very proud of him.

Gérard!

(speaking French): (laughing) (Passepartout growls) (both laughing) ♪ ♪ (carriage moving) (horse neighs, carriage stops) DRIVER: Whoa, Gustave!

(crowd chanting, pounding on carriage) (carriage rumbling) Go, go, for goodness' sake, go!

None of this has anything to do with me!

MAN: (crowd shouting) No, no, no!

(grunts) I am English!

I am English!

(clamoring) (kids yelling) GÉRARD (in French): (snaps fingers): That was you at the station, wasn't it?

HUGO (in French): You knocked me over and left me there?

PASSEPARTOUT (in French): Good God, no!

ABIGAIL: I'm working, if you must know, a journalist.

(scoffs) GÉRARD and PASSEPARTOUT (in French): PASSEPARTOUT: GÉRARD and PASSEPARTOUT: PASSEPARTOUT: A manservant.

Manservant.

ABIGAIL: A spectacularly bad one, as it turns out.

PASSEPARTOUT: GÉRARD and PASSEPARTOUT: PASSEPARTOUT: Excuse me, I can understand what you're saying, and "the woman" will be the judge of where she goes, not you.

You say you're a journalist, Mademoiselle Fix?

I don't say I'm a journalist, I am a journalist.

Then how about I give you the story of a lifetime?

♪ ♪ (kids yelling) PHILEAS: Somebody help me!

(woman singing in French) Please, I have a first-class ticket!

No, please, no, please, please, please!

Leave that!

Leave that, please!

That belongs to the lady, it is not yours!

(song continues) (kids yelling, Phileas pleading) (song continues) PASSEPARTOUT: Why don't you go and find Fogg?

This is not your business.

Everything's my business.

So I'm starting to see.

ABIGAIL: You said "today of all days."

What did you mean?

A year ago, President Thiers ordered the army to destroy the Commune.

They turned their cannons on us, here, in the heart of Paris.

Are we going on a protest march?

My readers would absolutely love that.

A protest, Mademoiselle?

That much is certainly true.

(bell ringing) I am the English man!

(laughing) SISTER CATHERINE (in French): PHILEAS (crying): All my things...

SISTER CATHERINE: PHILEAS: Ah, Miss Fix's bag!

SISTER CATHERINE: You must not judge us unkindly, Monsieur.

People with empty bellies have been known to forget their manners.

(panting): Yes, of course.

But you appear to be a man who is a stranger to poverty.

(bell ringing) Oh, yes.

Certainly, of course.

I'm sure the Lord won't mind some English pounds.

Thank you.

Go in peace.

Your journey has the Lord's approval.

Really?

(murmurs) An idiot, Fogg.

You're an idiot, you were never made for this.

(speaking French): Thank you-- merci.

I'm sorry, Bernard.

I don't know what I was thinking.

I'll bring her home at once.

(grunts) (panting) PASSEPARTOUT: GÉRARD: PASSEPARTOUT: Passepartout?

My insane brother and his suicidal friends are going to assassinate the president of France.

GÉRARD: How's that for a headline, Miss Fix?

PASSEPARTOUT: GÉRARD: (revolver cocks) ♪ ♪ (bird wings flapping) GÉRARD: Do you know what my father said to Passepartout the moment before the firing squad took him away from us?

No, I don't.

He said, "Look after your brother."

And do you know what my brother said to my father?

I don't know and I don't care.

Why are you even contemplating this?

I suggest that you put down your... "I promise, Papa."

That's what I said to him.

He asked one thing of you and you betrayed him.

I was young.

I'd seen my own father killed!

I just wanted to get away from this city, these politics.

I just wanted to forget.

Forget who murdered your own father?

Yes!

I needed to be away from here.

You had a brother!

PASSEPARTOUT: What do you want me to say, Gérard?

That I was a bad brother?

I freely admit it.

I am the worst brother a man could ever have.

I am sorry as any man can be.

♪ ♪ GÉRARD: PHILEAS (voiceover): Excusez-moi.

Excusez-moi?

Oh, excusez-moi, have you seen this woman?

(speaking French) Anglaise.

Uh, uh, stubborn, uh... Talks a lot, um... (carriage approaching) (men murmuring) (whispering): What will happen to us?

PASSEPARTOUT: If he kills the president, every gendarme in Paris will be inside this building in less than a minute.

Will they arrest us?

They will kill us.

(whispering): Someone will rescue us.

Mr. Fogg.

Is a fool who cannot run his own bath.

Miss Fix, Miss Fix, Miss Fix, Miss Fix... PASSEPARTOUT (voiceover): I wouldn't be surprised if he's already on his way back to England.

My father is a powerful man.

Who is currently asleep in the library of the Reform Club.

♪ ♪ (voiceover): I wish you had left when I told you to.

(girls talking) ♪ ♪ I'm sorry, Miss Fix.

Nobody is going to rescue us.

PHILEAS (voiceover): Have you seen this woman?

Excusez-moi?

(speaking French) PHILEAS: Anyone?

Sorry...

Someone must have seen her, she has big hair!

Blue eyes-- I think?

Where might I find a policeman?

Police... Quoi?

Gendarme, gendarme!

WOMAN (speaking French): Oui, yes, thank... PHILEAS and WOMAN: (talking in background) ABIGAIL (whispers): If you get out of this and I don't, tell my father I love him very much and that he's not to feel guilty.

I was doing what I'd always wanted to do.

(whispering): Is there anybody you want me to speak to?

There must be someone.

GÉRARD: Not much to show for a life, brother.

No wife.

No children, no friends.

No beliefs.

No country.

Nobody cares if you live or die.

(whispers): I would.

Care if you lived or died.

A little bit.

(carriage approaching, men exclaiming in distance) ANTOINE (speaking French): Always punctual.

(talking in background) GÉRARD: PASSEPARTOUT: Gérard, listen to me.

Thiers didn't kill Father.

He betrayed the movement.

Same thing.

(breathing slowly) ANTOINE: How can more killing help France?

It helps me.

(revolver cocks) ANTOINE: Thank you, excusez-moi, coming through.

Thank you, excusez-moi.

Excusez-moi.

I am not going anywhere until I have seen the chief of police himself.

He is inside with the president of France.

She is the daughter of the editor of "The Daily Telegraph."

(speaking French): ♪ ♪ (crowd exclaiming) ANTOINE: (cheers and applause) PHILEAS: Mr. President!

My name is Phileas Fogg!

I've traveled from England... (gasps) ...and I'm looking for a woman!

Aren't we all, Monsieur?

(laughs) Do not interrupt the president of France!

(horse neighs) ABIGAIL: Mr. Fogg!

Miss Fix?!

I've been looking everywhere for you!

HUGO: PHILEAS: I'm going to London!

I'm going to London!

(fires) (audio muffles) Fogg!

(crowd screaming) (audio muffles) (crowd screaming) (audio muffles) (crowd screaming) (audio muffles) (crowd screaming) (speaking French): (guns firing, glass shattering) (guns firing, people yelling) (groans) (guns firing, glass shattering) (firing) (yelps) (gun fires, Hugo yelps) (glass breaking) (shooting continues) Go, Passepartout!

ABIGAIL: Come on!

(guns firing, glass shatters) Come with us!

GÉRARD: No!

PASSEPARTOUT: Come with us!

(guns firing) (audio muffles) ♪ ♪ (audio fading back in) Passepartout!

Quick!

Now!

♪ ♪ (clock ticking) (ticking stops) (inhales sharply) (people shouting, guns firing) (laughs) OFFICER: (guns firing, people shouting) (gun fires) (yelps) ABIGAIL: Fogg, Fogg!

I thought you were dead!

Dead?!

I've never felt so alive in my life.

You came for us, I knew you would!

(men shouting) We must leave Paris, now!

Wait, hold on!

Um... PASSEPARTOUT: What is it?

Do you know this place?

(softly): Place...

Yes.

Take me there.

Why?

Just... Trust me!

(dogs barking) ♪ ♪ In there?

Do you want to live or die, Monsieur?

(men shouting in distance) Well... Live, I suppose.

Get in!

Yes, all right.

(officer yells in French) (men shouting, horse neighing) PASSEPARTOUT: Hurry up!

(officers shouting) PASSEPARTOUT: This way!

(horses neighing) ♪ ♪ PHILEAS (panting): I think we've lost them.

ABIGAIL: We have to keep going!

PHILEAS: I've got a bit of a stitch.

Just let me catch my breath for a few minutes and then... (guns firing) PHILEAS: Oh, will you people stop firing at me?

PASSEPARTOUT: ABIGAIL: I am hurrying!

OFFICER: (firing) ♪ ♪ This way!

♪ ♪ Up there!

(grunts) (yells) In here!

(gates opening) Bolt the door!

(breathlessly): Oh, it's beautiful.

I am not going up in that!

Nobody is going up in that.

Monsieur Lôme?

My name is Phileas Fogg.

I need to purchase this magnificent flying machine, and I need you to fly it for me.

It's not for sale.

Name your price, Monsieur!

(chuckles) There's no price.

LOÔME: What's the name of the balloon, Monsieur?

PHILEAS: Marie Rose.

Marie Rose, yes, was my wife.

We, we had this dream to fly together, out over the city, over the fields, and rivers.

Like birds, like angels.

She died before I, before I could complete it.

(pounding on gates) LOÔME: Hurry, Mr. Fogg!

Monsieur, you built this machine for your wife.

For Marie Rose, I understand that.

But what honor does it do her gathering dust here?

It should fly!

Like a bird!

Like an angel!

No man in the world knows more about lost opportunity than me, Monsieur Lôme.

(pounding on gates) OFFICER: COMMANDER: ABIGAIL: If we're going to go, we need to go now!

(pounding continues) ♪ ♪ You'll come with us?

No, Monsieur, you go.

Make my wife proud.

(bolt breaks) (chuckling) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ Why can't we get a train, like normal people?

Do you have any idea how this thing works?

Basic physics, I imagine.

What a story!

PASSEPARTOUT: Where are we going?

Italy, of course.

Not a second to lose.

♪ ♪ PHILEAS (grunts): I've been thinking, Miss Fix, perhaps this adventure should have a chronicler.

If you're still interested.

Thank you, Mr. Fogg, I'd be honored.

Yes.

Only a sip each, I'm afraid.

"To my darling fellow traveler, sincerely yours..." Whoever gave you this saved your life, Monsieur.

Yes, I think you might be right, Passepartout.

ABIGAIL: Thank you.

♪ ♪ Around the world, my friends, in 80 days!

♪ ♪ EVA: You really think you can cross the entire globe in just 80 days?

PHILEAS: Certainly, Madame.

Or die trying!

(chuckles) He's a fraud, Miss Fix.

FORTESCUE: He has Abigail by his side.

She's a force of nature.

No!

I promised your father!

I won't tell him if you won't!

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ANNOUNCER: Go to our website, listen to our podcast, watch video, and more.

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"Masterpiece" is available with PBS Passport and on Amazon Prime Video.

♪ ♪