Original subtitles

Well...

Let me tell you in two sentences my main concern.

Yes, of course.

My main concern is the concern of the company

and the prestige of Cannon.

Cannon has announced for a year-and-a-half, approximately,

the Jean-Luc Godard movie, King Lear.

People do not believe that the movie will ever be done.

We're losing confidence. We are losing our name.

It's bad for us because every now and again,

a clever interviewer, or who thinks he's clever, comes to me and says:

"You made a big noise once you signed with Godard", etc., etc.

And I protest: "We are shooting". Anyway,

it's hanging us

and I must insist that movie, as promised,

which was already postponed so many times

will reach the Cannes Festiva. This is my main concern.

- Okay, Jean-Luc, why don't you respond to that? - Action!

Mailer. Oh, yes.

That is a good way to begin.

The contract dated the sixteenth of April, 1986.

It was between Norman Mai er and JLG Films.

It said: "Norman Mai er and certain members of his family,

including Kate Mailer, as may be required and available,

could provide generous services, including services as actors.

But words are reck ess. Words are one thing,

and reality, gentle reality, is another thing.

Would you like a drink?

And between them is nothing.

You know, I'm all keyed up. I want to go back to America.

Why don't we change our p ane reservations for tomorrow.

Dad!

Dad!

Don Kenny, Don Gloustro, Don Learo!

- Learo. - Learo.

Why are you so interested in the mafia!

I think the mafia is the only way to King Lear.

Corde ia.

Mailer.

Oh, that's a good way.

That's a good way to begin.

To begin the thought I said: "Let's go".

The greater writer said: "Why don't you say action?"

So I did.

Then I said: "Kate enters your room and kisses you,

when she hears you finished the play. Not "your" play, "the" play.

The great writer said:

"Why don't I kiss her instead of her kissing me"?

I said okay again.

And now began a ceremony of star behaviours:

"Why do I have to put my jacket on"?

"Do I have to drink orange juice"?

And again: "Why does she have to take my hand instead of me taking her"?

And anyway, this picture, what's the he?

- Would you like a drink? - Yeah.

You know, I'm all keyed up.

I think I'd like to go back to the States.

Why don't we grab a plane and get out of here?

It was not Lear with three daughters.

It was Kate with three fathers.

Mai er as a star, Mailer as her father,

and me as a director.

Too much indeed,

Dad?

For this young ady from Provincetown.

After the fifth take of the first shot, the great writer eft the set.

They took off for America, they said.

He and his daughter first class. Daughter's boyfriend, economy.

- Don Glouster? - Don Gloustro.

Don Gloustro. Why are you so interested in the mafia?

Anyway, I was fryed.

I kept on thinking about the relation of heart and fire.

Corde ia!

He lo everybody. Good evening, folks.

But why did they pick me?

Twenty years later I still wonder.

Why not some other gentleman?

From Moscow or Beverly Hills?

Why don't they just order some goblin to shoot this twisted fairy tale?

- Marce. - No! - Yes!

A picture. So high, you could put it in a cell

and condemn it to solitary confinement forever

and condemn it to solitary confinement forever

without it being a...

Ingrid! Yes, of course.

Be sure you have exhausted everything.

Which is to communicate by mobility and silence.

No, Francoise, no.

I'm not sure.

If an image, looked at separately, expresses something clear y,

take courage with it, show an interpretation.

It will not transform itse f in context with other images.

There are other images who have no power over it.

And it wil have no power over the other images.

No action. No reaction.

Leopardo, yes!

Yes, the night has come.

- Fritz, yes, of course. - Another world awakens.

- Of course. - Hard, cynical and a phabetical,

amnesic, twisted without reason.

Spread flat as each perspective has been abolished.

I life's strangest thing, the iving dead of this wor d

are constructing this world.

- Joseph, yes! - The fire and the sensations are from before.

The vanishing point has been erased.

Again, Jacque, again.

I'm alone, the world seems to say.

Caught for having a necessity you can not change.

If I'm only what I am, I'm indestructible.

Being what I am, and without reserve,

my so itude knows yours.

I will repeat the pattern of o d warriors.

I will say nothing.

Am I in France?

In your own kingdom, sir.

- And now, you desert your kingdom. - Do not dessert me.

Looking again at Luchino's picture,

from the time when he was young and first assistant to Renoir,

and noticing the difference between that

and the old man that he became with time,

I suddenly discovered why his artistic father, Jean,

a so becoming o d, was so keen on young girls.

Like his father, August.

Father, Father.

Dorei, do not haunt me.

And then ooking again at Sages.

Sti I editing on his death-bed.

I remember what Plogi told me years later about editing.

I fear I'm not in my perfect mind.

- Physically... - When the rain came to wet me. - In both hands.

- And the wind make me chapped... - The future...

- When the vendor would not do my bidding. - And the past.

There I found him. There I smelt him out.

Gotou, they are not men of their words.

- Betwixt my eye and... - They to d me I was everything.

- Each doth do violence to the others. - It's a lie.

- I am not. - And not mine eye is famished for a look

or heart in love's picture then my eye doth feast

with my love's picture then my eye doth feast

and to the painted banquet bids my heart.

Come not between the dragon and his wrath.

I oved her most and fought to se my rest

on her kind nursery.

Hence, and avoid my sight.

So be my grave, my peace

as here I give her father's heart from her.

Peace. Mr. Shakespeare.

Come not between the dragon and his wrath.

I oved her most

and fought to set my rest

on her kind nursery. Hence!

And avoid her look.

So be my grave, my peace.

No nudity. No, no!

I'm on duty now for the cultural division at Cannon

and they definite y don't accept nudity.

And then suddenly it was the time of Chernobyl

and everything disappeared.

Everything.

And then after awhile everything came back: Electricity,

houses, cars.

Everything except culture and me.

I was one of the few survivors in that fie d, as an individua.

At the corporate level, there was the Cannon cultural division.

So, by special arrangement with them,

and the Royal Library of her majesty the Queen,

I was engaged.

My task: To recapture what have been lost,

starting with the works of my famous ancestor.

And so it happened that on my way back from Denmark,

where I rediscovered "To be or not to be",

I stopped here,

in a itt e city of Nyon, between Italy and Germany,

between the woods and the water,

where I would try to ocate another survivor,

where I would try to ocate another survivor,

who, according to local egend, specialized in visual media.

His name? I can't remember.

I'd been told that his research

had been moving in para el lines to my own.

By the way, my name is William Shakespeare, Junior, the Fifth.

What is this?

It's the best part of the fish.

Give me the map, then,

now meantime

we shal express our darker purpose.

Yes, father.

Know that I have divided

in three my empire.

Twis my fast intent

to shake all cares of business

from my age,

conferring them on younger strength

while I unburden

and craw towards death.

Are you istening?

Now, my joy, al my ast enrich... Speak!

What sha Cordelia speak?

Love and be si ent.

- What country is that over there? - This is the Kingdom of France.

- Take off. - Yes, Mister Learo.

Now, you know,

Bugsy Seigal and Lansky, that's Meyer Lansky,

they was always fighting,

and the point was that Bugsy,

that Bugsy was the rea killer.

Not ike this Richard Nixon, you know.

- How many people did he ki I? - How many?

Eight or ten, that I know of.

- With his own hands? - Yes, mostly.

Sometimes he got some friends to help him to get rid of.

But this Meyer Lansky, the little guy,

he was a philosopher, you know.

And two days in Vegas, this was two days before Bugsy was murdered,

this Lansky said to him,

I got his words in his own writing here.

I want you to hear this.

He says... This is Lansky, to Bugsy:

"Studying human nature I came to the conclusion

people prefer to be rightous at home

and a sinner somewhere e se".

Own hand-writing. "As for myself I..."

"As for myself I stick to the saying:

When you lose your money, you lose nothing,

when you lose your character you lose everything".

Well, think about that, my beloved.

What do you think about that? Answer me.

I don't have my heart in my mouth.

You mend your speech a little.

- You may mar your dollars. - As you wish.

Love's abors lost.

As you wish.

As you wish, as you wish.

As you witch, as you witch.

As you watch, as you watch, as you watch!

Witchcraft.

As you...

As you like it!

That's it. That's it. As you ike it.

Thank you, miss.

Thank you, my lady.

Sure.

I shall never marry like my sisters.

To love my father all.

But goes thy art with this.

Aye, my good lord.

So young and so untender.

So young my lord, and true.

You just saved my life.

Are you trying to make a play for my girl?

No, sir. Please. A low me to introduce myse f.

Get your hands off me.

There's a play we're trying to make anytime, sir.

A p ay, sir.

Characters.

Come not in there, Nuncle.

Here's the spirit. He p me.

- Give me thy hand, who's there? - A spirit.

He lo? Hello?

He lo?

Where is everybody?

Where are we?

- The name is Goodwater. - Goodwater?

That's a nice name. What city is this?

When the French where here, they called it Les Oranges.

But before that, when the Spanish was here, they cal ed it Los Angeles.

Who was she? I needed to know.

I decided to forget of the "To be or not to be" business for awhi e.

Something was going on between this old man and this young girl.

I decided to concentrate on their story.

So I was trying to ocate this Pluggy.

I was wa king in the woods near the lake.

The p ace was named Oban which means "good water".

This information was given me by a young man, poorly dressed,

named Edgar, accompanied by his girlfriend Virginia,

except that she wasrt there.

They seemed to be ooking for something.

What were they ooking for, I asked them.

The boy and the girl didn't know. The girl wasrt even there.

Only the professor knows, but he hates the outdoor and natural light.

Pluggy, I asked.

"Yes, he's stayed inside his editing room now for twenty years".

Editing. That sounded familiar.

What's that, I asked.

But the girl and the boy couldn't remember either.

And the girls sti I wasrt there.

I tried to make an appointment but they disappeared.

Now, even if Lansky and I

arw as awesomw as we are reputed to be,

we are now scarcely more than,

than... More than

isolated men.

Lonely isolated

men on the criminal landscape of America.

- Now... - Do you wanna check, father? - Yes.

I want to check.

Lansky organized crime's ancient hope of getting casino gamb ing...

Wait a minute. Take your time. What's you hurry?

What's your hurry?

- By the late sixties the whole country was Las Vegasized. - Right.

Entertainment conglomerates like MGM own the largest building in Vegas.

Ah, yes.

Bugsy Seigal's Flamingo is now the Las Vegas Hilton.

Move slow, slow.

Bally, Playboy, Holiday Inn have rushed into Atlantic City.

- The new Eldorado on the sea. - Yes. On the sea.

And New York City is not far behind.

A I of there vice and leisure centres

are linked together to my Learo Jet Company.

Ah, my!

A I of America is now embracing...

All of America is now embracing our vision,

and Bugsy Segal's death was not...

Whoa! Not death.

His martyrdom.

- And Bugsy Segal's martyrdom is not in vain. - Right.

The question universally asked is how much influence...

No! No!

How much power. Put power down.

A I right?

Power.

The question universally asked is how muck power

Meyer Lansky and I exercised over these...

The art of our necessities is strange,

we can make vi e thins precioius.

Even if the worst arrives...

When the mind is free, the body's delicate.

...And in the end the system swallows up the gangsters

and his gigantic mob, eaving behind...

See what breeds about her heart.

Is there any cause in nature that make these hard hearts?

...Then isolated men on the criminal landscape of America.

I bear the mark of Cain, and...

I bear the mark of Cain, and...

Make no noise, make no noise.

Draw the curtain,

so... So...

they'll go to supper in the morning.

Sir, in my heart, there is a kind of fighting

that will not let me sleep.

Children...

Children...

You begot me, bred me, loved me.

And I return thus duties as I right fit.

Love you, obey you and most honour you.

There is two te ex, Mr. Learo.

Your sisters.

Sir, I love you more than word can weild the matter.

Dearer than easysight, space...

Space and liberty.

Beyond what can be valued,

rich or rare, no ess than life.

In grace, heath, beauty, honour,

as much as chi d err loved,

or father found.

Love that makes breath poor and speech unable,

beyond all manner of so much

I ove you.

Is that Gloria?

It was our e dest, yes.

And Regina?

The art of our necessities is strange that can make vile things precious.

"I am made of that self-metal as my sister

and prize me at her won'th.

In my true heart,

I find she names my very dear thoughts".

When the mind is free, the body's a target.

"And find I'm alone".

Make no noise. Make no noise.

Draw the curtains. So. So.

We'll go to supper in the morning.

I find I'm alone, falicitate, in your dear highness love.

Then poor Cordelia.

And yet, not so, since I'm sure my love's more ponderous than my tongue.

Tell me my daughters.

Since now we will divest us both of power and business

which of you shall we say, deservest most?

Now my joy to who's young love...

See what breeds about her heart.

Is there any cause in nature

that makes these hard hearts?

Speak to me.

- Nothing. - Nothing?

No thing.

Let me have surgeons.

I am cut to the brains.

I've never seen anything as stupid as these goblins.

They're showing up too soon or too late.

You never rea ly know what they're up to.

Then again, I suppose they don't either.

They can't help it: These gentle and powerfu beings.

The secret agents of human memory.

They blow it every time.

And my love. Where is that cheap lady?

I do be ieve her. No, I know. She ies.

Does any here know me?

This is not real.

Does Lear walk thus? Speak thus?

Where are his eyes?

Either his notion weakens

or his discernings are lethargied.

Waking!

Waking. "Tis not so".

Who is it that can tell me

who I am.

Lear's shadow.

Have more than thou showest.

Have more than thou showest.

Speak less than thou knowest.

Len less than thou owest.

Ride more thou goest.

- Hello? Excuse me, Mr Learo? - Learn more than thou trowest.

Have more than thou showest.

Speak less than thou knowest.

Lend less than thou owest. Ride more than thou goest.

Learn more than thou trowest.

Whereforeare you not odd.

I'm old.

What are you writing for?

I'm trying to recover the work of my ancestor.

I understand you've been working on this problem here, doctor?

Well, nobody writes.

So writing stil exists.

The trouble of what we're looking for.

It doesn't make sense.

Nobody does it.

Just what are you aiming at, Professor?

When the professor farts, the moonbeams are trembling.

No, no. Don't pretend to be a fool.

Light it! It's been invented.

Fools have bear crazyness in years for wise men have grown foppish.

And know not how their wits to wear are their manners so apish.

How is it that you're always disobeying, Edgar?

Oh what?

No, professor. No, no.

Children.

Ah, children.

What is their need for learning?

They don't hear no thing.

Yes we do, professor.

Eh, e, a, r, enya.

What's that?

Cry you mercy.

I took you for a trade-schoo.

Yes, it is a bet.

Each one of us when one does anything,

one is a ways disobedient in some way to something.

Or obedient to something.

Yes, and watch Mrs. Bersano.

But disobedient is more interesting.

Really, you never study, Mr. Shakespeare?

Number five. I'm in her Majesty's service

and I obey my orders

and my orders are to bring the work of my ancestor to life,

but I can't stop til the story's over.

Yeah, what's this all say?

Litt e bitty laughs.

They've all disobeyed goodness, death.

Know thou art an "O",

Well, thou art an "O" without a finger.

I am better than thou art now.

I'm a full.

Thou art nothing.

Yes, Versus, I will hold my tongue.

So your face bids me though you say nothing.

Mum, mum.

It is born and it is burnt.

It begins from the thing it ends.

At the same time.

Birth and death,

linked, like mouth and breath.

The answer to your question is there.

What we are looking for is like that fire.

It is born from what it destroys.

Then what it it? Tell me the name.

I ain't interested in names.

Why is that?

Look! No names, no lines. No lines, no story.

To name things makes the professor pee.

Who are they? To need a name to exist.

Do I need a name

to see live beauty.

I don't agree.

Do you need to say red to see red?

Do I need to say lips to say...

I ove you.

I disagree.

With no word, then come the mistake.

- I need the memory. - But between us into vanity.

- I need the memory. - But between us into vanity.

How can I possibly reach words with no words?

First, the tragedy of choice.

And then second, the comedy of errors.

Suppose we made a mistake at the very very beginning,

and we called red green.

How would we know today?

Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took.

A tension twisted in memory...

to show you what it's like.

Yes, tell me, professor.

- Show. - Show. - Show, that's what.

Show must go on.

A vio ent silence. The si ence of Cordelia.

To the question of a king, her father,

her answer was: Nothing.

No thing.

But Cordelia is not mute.

It is not that she hasn't say anything.

She has said: "Nothing.

No thing".

This girl silence, which is not mute,

does not ead to violence.

But everything that conspires and organizes itself around her si ence

that want to si ence her si ence.

This produces vio ence.

Let me not be mad. Not mad, sweet heaven.

Keep me in temper. I would not be mad.

You must bear with me.

I'm old and foolish.

Let me not be mad.

Not mad, sweet heaven.

I don't know if I made this clear before,

but this was after Chernobyl.

We are in a time now when movies, and more generally art,

have been lost. Do not exist,

and most somehow be reinvented.

Thanks to the o d man and his daughter,

I had some of the lines.

Her answer was: "Nothing. No thing".

It does not mean anything. She has said:

"Nothing. No thing".

I don't know if I made this c ear before but this was after Chernobyl.

We are in a time where movies and more general y art

has been ost, do not exist.

And it has to be somehow reinvented.

Thanks to the o d man and his daughter, I have some lines

and I was told this man Pluggy and,

I stil don't know what to ca them,

they had to go together with the lines.

Somehow I fe t they needed to go together, that's why...

Do not abuse me.

I meant to please you Highness all.

You must bear with me. I am old an foolish.

You must bear with me. I am old an foolish.

Thou shouldst not have been old 'ti I thou hadst been wise.

Oh...

Let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven!

Yes, tell me professor.

- So. - So! - So! Show. Not tell.

There's a lot of noise around here, huh?

What's it for?

What's it all for, professor!

Please!

Welcome, my dear Mr. Shakespeare. Welcome.

What is al that?

- Snakes. - Mister, brother a mystery. - Number five.

And you, my dear Mr. Shakespeare.

You see, a I those reckless words

for the simp e things on earth.

It's only ife and how it works.

Thank you indeed for this definition of ife.

Oh, not life. On y an image.

An image? What's that again?

The image is a pure creation of the soul.

It can not be born of a comparison,

but of a reconci iation of two realities

that tell more as far apart.

The more the connection between these two realities are distanced,

too, the stronger they get to be,

the more they emote the power.

Two realities that have no connection,

can not be drawn together useful y.

There is no creation of an image.

Two contrary realities wi not come together. They oppose each other.

One rarely obtains forces and power from either position.

So out went the cand e and we were left darkened.

So out went the cand e and we were left darkened.

An image is not strong because it is bril iant

or fantastic

because it is the sensation of ideas is distant and true.

The result that is obtained immediate y

controls the thus of the cessation.

A narration is the major mark of creation.

It teaches the symbols of connections.

The power and virtue of the created image

depends on the nature of these connections.

What is great is not the image

but the emotions that it provokes.

If the latter is great,

one obtains the image at its measure.

The emotion thus provoked is true

because it is born outside of all imitation.

A I evocation. And al resemb ance.

I'll go and see. I'I ask Virginia.

Ready to go?

- May I bring some friend? - The old man and the young lady?

- How do you know? - Never know, always see.

Never know, always see.

- Anyway, what's her name? - Cordelia.

That's her real name or you just invented it?

- Well... - You're the sparkler, my friend.

You're the sparkler.

When you and Edgar did just now

its glow was dirty yellow.

If it's gleaming white in her hand,

then her virtue is true.

And her name is Cordelia.

A vio ent silence. The si ence of Cordelia.

To the question of a king, a gangster, her father,

her answer is: Nothing. He demands the essentia.

How is he oved? Desired?

From where is he loved? He has power. He is king.

He wants to be wanted.

Who wants him? Nothing.

Not will, not intelligence, no sex

but all the same, a body, a little bit of flesh.

Because for Learo, to hear is to see.

A man may see how this world goes with no eyes.

Look with thin ears.

This is what he tries to do, the king who calls himself L'ear:

E A R. In listening to his daughter,

he hopes to see their entire bodies stretched out across their voices.

What he wants is not what he desires.

What he wants is to forget this desire that he can not stand.

The nothing of Cordelia.

So that he can silence the si ence,

he listens as though he were watching te evision.

But Cordelia. What she shows in speaking

is not "nothing", but her very presence,

her exactitude.

Take off.

Get out.

So what do you think will happen now?

- You will not have that for me. - No, no.

Come. Let's away to prison.

We two alone will sing...

Take me out of the grave.

...ike birds in the cage.

And when thus dost ask my b essing,

I'll knell down...

On a wheel of fire.

...And ask of thee forgiveness.

So we'll live and pray and sin

and tell old ta es...

They are not men of their words.

...and laugh at gilded butterflies

and here poor rogues talk of court news.

We'll ta k with them too.

Who loses and who wins who then who's out.

And take upon us the mystery of things.

As if we were God's spies.

And we' I wear out in a walled prison

parts and sex of great ones

who ebbed and flowed

by the moon.

People forget that you hear your own voice

not with your ears but with your throat.

I've reinvented the lines, I've reinvented the plot.

Now it's up to the characters. Or are they actors.

Which is the Doctor Jeckyl and which is Mr. Hyde?

All I know is that I can't contro either.

Maybe they're controlling me.

Obviously this old man was power.

Obviously this girl was virtue.

They are fighting.

I don't know what the issue is.

Do you have any cigarettes?

Pall Ma, Malboro, Lucky Strike, Came, Philip Morris...

- You don't have Kent fi ters? - I'm sorry no.

Quiet Virginia. This is a family residence.

Nature's above art in that respect.

Good light form the north or from the south?

Pall Ma, Lucky Strike, Camel, Phi ip Morris, Malboro.

That's fine Virginia.

- What paper did you say you were from? - From New York Times.

Why that?

Oh, that. Wel, you see

I'll tell you, miss.

Yeah, yeah.

Where the chairs are placed here

they are a I facing the same space and direction.

And the voices going over that space

it's projected all over.

You know, in a simple living room in an apartment,

when someone is speaking,

all the peop e are listening around the walled space.

Not here, miss. Not here. This is our invention.

A I the people are facing the same direction, same...

Same space. Even suppose it is dark,

people wil know where to ook at.

In a simple apartment if it's in the dark,

people are lost. They don't know what to ook at.

Here they know.

Okay, but why that?

That, my dear, it wi I kil you.

- You mean the truth? - Yes, if it's properly centered.

Professor Qentef has arrived.

He lo, my dear Sa ow.

You may excuse the battle, I need your car.

This is professor Quentef, she is the Arkansas Dai y.

No, from the New York Times.

You come a I the way from Lenningrad?

What's the name of your invention, Mr. Quentef?

Image, that's a great word.

They are not men of their word.

They to d me I was everything.

'Tis a ie. I am not.

Let's hope that we don't make any mistakes, Mr. Shakespeare.

- Number five. - What do you mean?

With al those damned and reckless words, one never knows.

I don't get it.

Suppose, my dear, we call it "image"

and that the real word is reality.

Then change it.

No, no.

It's right. Must come from the back.

From the back.

We got the wind.

Nature's above art in that respect.

It's too narrow.

Needs a push of reality out.

Anyway, we have to stop the experiment.

No, why that?

Something is missing

or someone.

I'm there.

No, you have boggled the experiment like all of us,

we are all part of it.

Even if we have not found it, whatever you ca I it, rea ity

or image, we fought for it.

And by god, we are no longer innocent.

Professor, there are two people here.

Peace, Mr. Shakespeare.

Come not between the dragon and his wrath.

I oved her most and thought

to find my rest in her kind nursery.

Hence. And avoid my sight.

So be my grave, my peace.

I went one ast time to visit this mysterious young woman.

She was asleep. Or maybe sleeping, or just pretending.

There were so many questions sti I unanswered.

The o d man, facing the screen, had not dared pronounce the words:

"As here I give her father's heart for..."

I've a message from your father.

I didn't quite understand them myse f when I wrote them,

I didn't quite understand them myse f when I wrote them,

but I can't afford to lose them.

Come, let's away to prison.

As here I give her father's heart from her.

We two alone will sing ike birds in a cage.

The doctor use the word prison ast night. Remember?

You where there.

Oh maybe I wasrt there myself.

What do you think will happen now?

Before seven years have passed,

the Americans wi I lose everything they have in France,

in a great victory which God is sending to the French.

I say this now so when the time has come

it will be remembered that I've said it.

In what year, on what day?

You will not have that from me.

How can you know whether your apparitions are male or female?

I see and I hear.

- Do they have hair? - That could be.

Their hair is it ong and hanging?

I don't even know if there are arms and a body.

How do they speak if they don't have bodies?

These apparitions.

Have they promised to deliver you from prison?

- Yes. - From the prison that you are in at this moment?

I told you that you cannot know a I.

It must come to pass that one day I will be delivered.

Thos that wish to take me from this world

could well have to eave it before me.

Your voices have always promised that you would be delivered.

Your voices have deceived you.

Yes, they have deceived me.

You write what is against me.

You do not write for me.

Kingdom of France.

Ninety-nine percent of the play had now been rediscovered.

Maybe even a hundred and one.

I came to thank Professor Pluggy.

I guess the first be s of Easter were ringing.

Mr. Alien.

Mr. Alien.

Yes, they were Easter bells.

The images were there as knew. Innocent.

Shy. Strong. Now I understand the Pluggy sacrifice was not in vain.

Now I understand through his work St. Pauls' words

Now I understand through his work St. Pauls' words

that the image will appear in the time of resurrection.

Stop!

Unappy that I am, I cannot heave my heart into my mouth.

Unappy that I am, I cannot heave my heart into my mouth.

The images were there as new.

Innocent, shy, and strong.

The images were there as new.

Innocent, shy, and strong.

I might have saved her

but now she's gone forever.

Corde ia! Corde ia! Stay a itt e.

What is thou sayest?

Her voice was ever soft and gentle

and low, and excellent thing in women.

Tis true, my lord.

Did I not, fella,

I've seen the day with my good biting falcon!

I would have made them skip!

I'm old now, and these same crosses

spoil me.

Who are you?

Mine eyes not at the best,

I tell you straight.

Your fortune brag of two she loved and hated.

One of them we behold.

This is a blow, son.

- Are you not Edgar? - Yes, sir.

I must be bad, no not mad.

Give me the temper.

I would not be mad.

And in me too, the wave rises,

it swells, it arches its back.

I am aware once more of a new desire.

Something rises beneath me

like the proud horse whose rider first spurs

and then pulls him back.

What enemy do we now perceive advancing against us?

You, whom I ride now.

As we stand pawing this stretch of pavement.

It is death against whom I ride.

With my spear couched and my hair lying back ike a young mars.

Like Hercable's when he ga loped in India.

I strike spurs into my horse.

Against you I will fling myself

unvanquished and unyie ding.

Oh, death.

She's gone forever.

I know when one is dead and when one lives.

She's dead as earth

then me a ooking g ass.

If that her breath or mist would stain the stone.

- Edgar! - Why then she lives?

It's a pity there is not music.

Okay, let's use gentle words for once.

To accompany the dawn of our first image.

The weight of this sad time we must obey.

Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.

The oldest hat on most

be that it's young, shall never see so much.

- Light sir. - Or ive so ong.

I couldn't help remembering Pluggy's ast words.

Mr. Alien. The bad time of Chernobyl had long been forgotten.

The motion picture industry was growing fast again.

Paramount, Fox, Warners were booming.

And so was the Cannon Cultural Division.

I was finishing the picture or bringing this twisted fairy tale

to and end in a small editing place they had hired for me.

The man in charge was named Mr. A ien.

- Lights, sir. - This can't be no accident. - Lights, sir.

Oh, then I see a king dealing alone with his many subjects.

Lights, sir.

Twenty years later I still wonder.

Why not some other gentleman

from Moscow or Beverly Hills?

Handling. Why don't they just order

some goblin to shoot this twisted fairy tales?

In both hands the present, the future

and the past.

No. I wi I be the pattern of all patience. I will say nothing.

Am I in France?

- In your own kingdom, sir. - Do not abuse me.

She's so young and so untender.

So young, my lord, and true.

Like as the waves make towards the peppled shore,

so do our minutes hasten to their end.

Each changing place with that which goes before.

In secret toil, all forwards do contend the tifity,

once in the main of life, craw s to maturity.

Where with being crowned,

crookedy c ipses age this glory fight.

And time that gave doth now his gift doth vow.

Time doth transfix the flourish

set on youth and delve the paral els in dutys' brow.

Feed on the rarities of nature's truth.

And nothing stands for his sight to bow.

They are not men of their word.

They to d me I was everything. 'Tis a lie.

She's gone forever.

She's gone forever.

I know when one is dead when one lives.

I know when one is dead when one lives.

- She's dead as earth. - Hand me a ooking glass.

If that her breath will mist or stain this stone,

why, then she lives.