All language subtitles for Pierre Falardeau - February 15, 1839 (Bootleg - Unrated Version)~(French with English Subs)

TO MY COMPATRIOTS

After the defeat of 1760
and the occupation of our country,

the British instituted here, a
ferocious exploitation system, as

in Africa, Asia, and Latin America.

In 1837 our ancestors took up arms
to cast off this corrupt regime.

Poorly trained and armed,

the Patriots faced
the world's strongest army.

General Colborne's 8000 troops
crushed the revolt.

Villages were torched,
the prisons overflowed.

For his services, Queen Victoria
named Colborne "Lord Seaton."

For the Patriots,
he became "Lord Satan."

In the pain of our dispossessions.
Gaston Miron

FEBRUARY 15, 1839

Hey, Frenchie,

you piss like a horse!

I could fill Colborne's helmet,
my bladder's so full.

Sometimes pissing's
even better than fucking.

Don't want to freeze my knots off.

Knots? I told you, we call'em nuts!

Knots or nuts...

mine are freezing!

Instead of hanging us, the bastards

are freezing us to death.

To save on firewood,
miserly buggers!

Just so long
as we don't cost'em much.

Whining again, are we?

They feed us, lodge us,
wash our linen...

And what's more,

we learn English!

Don't start this early.

The only English words
I've learned are Goddamn...

Hey, you Goddamns!

We're hungry, Jesus Christ to shit!

We're hungry, understand?

You never stop?

You go on writing?

We lost. It's all over.

Why...
-Don't start.

They defeated us.

Stop it.

I can't take it, I'm going crazy.

Don't you ever have doubts?

I have doubts constantly, Brien.
Constantly.

I wake up wondering how
I'll make it till night.

It tears at me, I feel it in here.

Then it eases.

All I know is if we give up,
it's over.

It is over.

No, it's never over.

Not if we keep fighting.

Why not admit it?

Because.

Because why?

Because.

Because I'm still alive.

It's what life's about.

But fighting for what?

We're all alone, behind bars.

Outside people are groveling,
grateful for crumbs.

To hell with them.

Let'em do what they want.

I want independence for me.

It's hopeless.

Listen to me.

If we cave in now, here,

they'll crush us for good.

So we have to keep fighting.

Fight for every sip of water,
every crust of bread.

Every day, every second.

We have no choice.

We must keep going.

We must resist.

It's our only hope.

The coffins.

I have the coffins.

I don't understand.

I think he wants that paper.

How many men are in prison?

Patriots?

About 800 men.

How many to hang?

There were 99.

They've already hung 7.

So there are 92 left?

They hang the Patriots here?

Yes.

Tell me what happened, Papa.

I can't.

I want you to tell me.

I can't tell you. I just can't.

You must.

You must tell me.

I can't talk about it.

When will we get straw and blankets?

Don't ask me.

For 4 months we've been freezing.

Even thieves get straw and two blankets.

They treat us Patriots
worse than dogs.

I just do what I'm told.

Don't forget my candles.
The fat ones...

not the ones the nuns use.

This loaf doesn't weigh 1(r) pounds.

Stop complaining.

McGill has to line
his pockets somehow.

It tastes like sawdust.

In France we call it
baker's scourge.

Thanks, Joseph.

Five came in.

Five came in.

Five.

Five came in.

Christ!

Five came in.

What?
-Five. They got five

You just keep at it.

How do you do it?

Aren't you afraid?

Of course I am.

What choice do I have?

Sit around all day brooding?

I'd go crazy.

Listen to me.

There are 92 men and 5 coffins.

I've always hated lotteries.

We have to occupy the men.

They'll get discouraged.

What about the classes?

Lewis will lecture on Irish history.

Is he ready?

No, maybe next week.

And Payeur wants to teach music.

I'm working on the Union proposal.

Still worried? They've talked
about it for 30 years.

With political conditions now
it's a real threat.

They'll do the same thing
as in Ireland in 1800.

What do you mean?

They crushed the revolt of 1798,

then passed the Union Act by force.

Just like in Scotland in 1707.

With the Union,
they'll make us a minority.

Exactly.

A conquered people,
annexed by force.

They call it the Rule of Law.

Where are your boys?

One's in the States,

the other...

Hey, the Goddamns!

Gentlemen, please.

Lieutenant Elliot.

You look like you're at a wake!

The blockheads can see you!

Don't let them break you.

Are we rebels, bloody hell?

Show some dignity, dammit!

Hey, you on the second floor!

Lewis, give me a hand.

Answer, someone!

You, down below!

What?

Were any of you named?
No one up here.

Hindelang

and De Lorimier.

And in the hole?

Here, Narbonne.

You over there, any word?

Here they took Nicolas,
and in the east block Amable Daunais.

Amable!

Courage, men! Courage!

Come in.

Come in.

I'm afraid.

I knew it might end like this.

The night of our pledge...

Remember?

Yeah.

Liberty or death.

I knew there was a price to pay.

But it's not so simple.

I just hope my legs
will carry me tomorrow.

I want to die with honour.

And the three others?

Daunais,

Nicolas and Narbonne.

Anything I can do?

No thanks.

Xavier...

My wife.

They can't.

Not Daunais.

Not Daunais.

What am I doing?

You're about to...

and it's me who...

Forgive me.

Don't apologize.

We're still human beings.

They can't take that away.

Poor L�vesque.

It's only natural,
Daunais's like his brother.

Do you know the two others?

Well, Nicolas... All I know is

he's from Quebec City.

Narbonne?

You know, the one-armed guy
from St-Edouard.

Right, his wife died
while he was in prison.

The Goddamns burned his farm.

His three kids were left paupers.

Let me tell you,

his only regret is

not killing more of them.

No wonder he's full of rage.

How are you, M. Dumouchel?

Today, not so good.

My Lord,

five more men.

When will it end?

It'll never end.

They won't give up
till they've killed us all.

Keep faith.

Thanks, Sister.

Remember us in your prayers.

The Lord keep you.

Courage, M. Primeau.
-Thanks, Mother.

Thank your countrymen.
Their alms are for you.

You're not forgotten.

Thank them for us.

M. Laberge.

Thank you, Sister.

We'd starve on the rations
they give us.

Shut yer trap,
you lily-livered ass.

Get stuffed, blockhead.

I said get stuffed,
and eat a bucketful of shit too!

Sorry, Sister. I couldn't help it.

I didn't hear.

I serve soup, not politics.

Eat... bucketful... shit!

Get it, pig brain?

No? Shit...

big, big pile of shit.

You eat pile, all of it.

The money...

Here.

Tell Joseph to buy whatever he can.

Wine, lots of cider, and rum,

especially rum.

Charles, rum comes from Jamaica.

Why do you bug me about Jamaica?

The Goddamns own Jamaica.

No imports.
Not a cent in taxes for the English.

That's true, shit!

Damn the embargo.

You're such a pain.

Rum's good.

Not a cent.

Alright, let it go.

Maybe I got talked into this.

Not me.

I was a Son of Liberty.

When O'Callaghan's newspaper
was ransacked,

ten of the bastards grabbed me.

They beat me with pick handles.

De Lorimier had been shot,

but he jumped in to help me.

Without him, I'd be dead.

I've followed him ever since.

At St-Eustache, Ste-Martine,
Beauharnois.

I'd go to hell with him.

We're there now.

They're frozen solid.

I'll put those away.

Do it later.

We have to talk.

I can't stay with him tonight.

This is all my fault.

I can take your place.

I'll talk to him.

I saved you one.

My mother sent them.

Thanks, I�m not hungry.

Want me to leave the plate?

No, don't bother.

Jacques will eat it.

Brien,

the confession you signed...

You're not to blame.

By deciding to court martial us,

they didn't need it
to declare us guilty.

This is about politics, not the law.

Save your strength.

You'll need it.

When this is over,

I'd like you and Brien
at the autopsy.

I'd also like you

to see they send

my heart to Mother.

Brien will get my boots,

the Baron, my helmet.

The Baron?

Fratellin, the Hungarian.

Give my greatcoat to Morin.

And my knife to Pacot.

Not so fast!

He gave it to me.

You keep my jacket,

it was a gift from Dr Davignon.

Give my other clothes to Joseph.

Is that it?

That's all I own.

It's about submission.

La Bo�tie wants to understand
why so many men obey like dogs

without rebelling.

Like here.

Yeah, more or less.

Would you mind reading some
to me and my brother?

With pleasure.

Alright...

The first reason
why men serve willingly

is they are born and raised
in bondage.

Additionally, and as a result
thereof, tyranny renders men

cowardly and effeminate."

Sure is hard to understand.

Yeah, but try,
it's worth the effort.

The people,
once it has been subjugated,

quickly fall into such profound
forgetfulness of their franchise

they cannot reawaken to obtain it."

Franchise means freedom.

Frank, French have the same root.

The people begin to serve,
so freely and willingly,

one would think
they hadn't lost their freedom,

but rather gained their servitude.

It is true that at first
one feels constrained

and defeated by force,

but those born later,

never having known freedom

and being ignorant of it,

serve without regret

and willingly do
as their ancestors were forced to.

Men who are born under the yoke,

born and raised in servitude,

live happily as they were born.

They mistake for their nature
the condition of their birth."

You're different, you can write.

Me, I never learned my letters.

Look at my hands.

Misshapen hands.

Hands made to grasp
the handle of a hoe or an axe.

Could've strangled that Goddamn Ellice
when we stormed his manor.

Him and his family of Goddamns...

All the land the wretches
took from us,

a million and a half acres, dammit!

When I think of it!

A million and a half acres to enrich
parasites who don't even live here!

Speculators, the lot.

I toiled like a beast, dawn to dusk,
and now I have nothing.

They took everything,
There's nothing left.

That's why I fought.

Because of that
and their other evil deeds.

You see these hands?

They were made to pray,

to cut bread,

to hold my grandchildren.

With these hands,
I just want to say thank you.

No need to thank me.

You'll tell them,
you'll talk about my hands?

Yes, I'll tell them.

Baptiste?

This is the outline
for my text on the Union Act.

The classes must be given.

Will you read it to me?

It's just an introduction.

A) Terror as a political instrument
of the British Empire;

a calculated terror.

First, quash the spirit
of resistance.

Second, create among the vanquished
a sense of fatalism.

Third, convince them
of your generosity.

B) Ensure acceptable conditions
for the vanquished;

an imperial policy. Example:

The Roman and Ottoman empires,
the Persians."

I was working on C).

When you stroke,
put your head in the water.

Breathe, stroke.

Swimming.

Can't you see, numskull?

We're learning to swim, jerk!

Anyone... has ailments?

Yeah,

me.

My stomach fever is back.

Stick out tongue.

Two a day, four days.

Me.

My legs are covered in sores.

Trousers up.

Not serious, go away soon.

Two a day, four days.

Old bastard!

Drunk as a skunk.

With that quack
we may as well pray.

Always the same damn pills,
if you have a headache or the runs...

Old louse.

Two a day, four days!

He only gave me 7.

Here, have mine.

What really saddens me is,

I won't see the spring.

Trees are beautiful.

I remember the apple trees
in bloom in spring, in Chiddes.

I planted the trees
with my neighbour, old Jean.

Forty-seven apple trees.

That's all I'm leaving behind.

Forty-seven apple trees.

You understand?

Bloody hell.

I do hope Jean looks after them,

when I'm gone.

Bloody hell!

Go ahead, shoot, you bugger!

Shoot, if you're a man!

What you waiting for?

Let's have done with it!

Stow it there.

How's Charles doing?

You know him,
putting on a good show.

As usual.

You can always count on him.

Like you.

I'm glad you're here, Prieur.

Me too.

Look, you see your g?

You have to raise its little tail.

I'll raise your little tail!

You old fool,

I�m going to trounce you good.

Big talker.

C'mon, let's see!

Don't give up, L�vesque.

Watch what the champ can do!

Can't you play something livelier?

C'mon, Payeur!

Mademoiselle,

may I have the pleasure
of this dance?

I couldn't see the Governor.

His wife received me,
we talked half an hour.

She was very kind.

She says her husband
might pardon you if...

But why?

I can't lose you!

Why'd you crawl to that scum?

What will I do if you die?

Some things we must not do.

I love you, Thomas.

You're all that matters to me.

I'd do anything
to save you, you hear?

Anything.

That's all they want,

for us to beg for grace,
to grovel. Those thieves!

80 years of exploitation.

I can't lose you.
It's you I love,

not your revolution.

You're my homeland.

They're making you pay

Not for the others!

I'm not a victim.
I'm not a missionary.

I despise victims, they're weak.

It was my decision.
I'm fighting for myself!

I can never accept.

Enough of this talk.

Those are only words, phrases.
It's only politics.

The people, liberty, nation...

What matters is life, not words.

Think of me for once.

Think of the children for once.

Just once!

Stop it.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

They're setting the ropes.

One's arranging the traps.

The pigs have the coffins.

I hate those bastards.

Not enough.

What did you say?

I said, not enough.

You still don't hate them enough.

You could never hate them
the way I hate them.

Everything they did to us
in Ireland...

You cannot imagine
how much I hate them.

It's like a fire.

It consumes me.

Touch me...

there.

That's your problem here.

You're not capable of hate.

Like some hot tea?

Don't mind the mugs.

Thank you, I'm freezing.

Sorry, it's all we have.

Thanks, that's alright.

Thank you.

In his report Lord Durham writes:

Assimilation to English habits
is already commencing.

English is gaining
as the language of the rich

and of employers of labour."

Who asked that bastard?

Let him read.
For once we have a paper.

The government's first object ought
to be making it an English Province.

Much time must elapse before
English spreads over the people.

We must determine if

the few French in Lower Canada
shall be made English now,

or if the process shall be delayed

until they are more numerous."

Wash your socks somewhere else!

Sorry.

Three times a week you wash'em
and wet me.

Afraid of getting sick?

It was an accident.

That'll do.

Him and his damn socks!

That'll do.

I'm a foreigner too,
and a Protestant!

You didn't come to rob us,

but to fight,
like O'Callaghan and Brown.

So?

The English set
the immigrants against us.

Should we kiss their asses?

Immigrants will always
defend their own interests.

Why should they
take the weaker side?

It's not true, it's not normal.

You're normal, Lewis is normal.

We don't care where you're from,

or if you're white, black,
yellow or green.

All we care is
if you're with us or them.

So simplistic.

Yes, I'm simplistic.

If you're with me,
you're my brother.

If not, wherever you're from,
I hate you.

You're a dirty dog.

I helped her.

Look, this is you.

Me, Fran�ois.

Marguerite...

This is her.

Here's the grass.

Look, a duck,

a baby rabbit.

She asked me to stitch this:

PAPA, I LOVE YOU LIKE THE SUN

The prison... what's this?

The firebird rescuing you.

Does she know?
-No.

She asks when you'll be out.
She misses you.

Does she understand?

Last week she asked me,
Why are the soldiers so mean to Papa?

What did you say?

What can you say to that?

How's school going?

Fine. Sister St-Pierre
encourages her.

I love seeing her write.

She copies her letters,
her tongue stuck out, so serious.

She's discovered your old globe.

She asks me,
Where's France? Where's England?

Where do we live?

And Marguerite? Does she...

still dress up in your clothes?

All the time.

With you gone, she's impossible.

Won't get dressed or eat.
I'm at my wit's end.

She'll get over it.

At her age L�opoldine was the same.

Yesterday I was washing the dishes.

She asked me,
Mama, what's liberty?

Daunais's calling.

Amable?

It's Guillaume.

You know?

Yeah.

I'm scared, Guillaume.

I'm so scared,
I don't know if I can walk.

I don't want to die.

I don't want to die.

You can't crack, Amable.

Not in front of those bastards.

I know all that.

But I'm still scared.

Listen, Guillaume.

What?

If you get out, promise me

you'll look after my bees.

Guillaume?

I swear.

Go to my room at M. Mallette's.

In the desk, in the bottom drawer,

you'll find a book on bees.

It's old Bessette's.

Give it back to him.

Don't worry.

And get my toolbox
from Thibert in Ste-Martine.

You can have it.

Take care of it.

You can be sure I will.

Oh yeah,
I don't know how to say this...

I was too shy.

But tell your sister
that I liked her.

You can say, a lot.

I noticed.

It was mutual, I think.

Speak louder, I can't hear.

She loved you too.

Amable?

Amable, are you there?

I think that this defeat

is even worse
than the defeat of 1760.

The greatest threat
isn't the military occupation,

but the occupation of our minds.

I fear we'll grow accustomed
to our misery

and that those
who hasten to sell us out,

will try to convince us
that submission

is paradise on earth.

Our prison bars...

they'll be in our heads.

Alphonse?

What's this?

Our farewell feast.

Chicken,

roast pork,

ham, duck,

p�t�...

It's not p�t�, Frenchie,
it's cretons.

Hey, guys, cretons!

Let me smell!

P�t�, cretons, who gives a damn?

It matters.
What do you Frenchies know?

Like my mother's.

Leave some for the rest of us!

I'll kneel to eat them.

Cherry wine!

And dandelion wine!

Guys, cider!

Cider!

Pass me the jug.

Cider, holy saints above!

Two fingers, Jos!

Sure beats the horse-piss
Molson foists on us.

Thomas,

we're ready.

Start without me, I'll be along.

He says not to wait.

Well, let's begin.

There's enough for everyone,

if we keep an eye on Jos.

Want some?

Remember last year,

at Ile des Soeurs?

It wasn't last year,
but the year before.

You sure?
-Yes.

It was spring,
the year of the floods.

We canoed between the trees.

You remember?

Like it was yesterday.

I remember the soft breeze,

the sun glinting off the water,

the pebbles on the shoreline,

the smell of your skin...

I can still see you,

your head thrown back,

your eyes closed,

your breath,

the beads of sweat in your hair.

It's funny.

Each time we made love,

I was discovering a treasure.

Each time.

For ten years.

And the other guy,

with his stupid hat
and English face staring at me...

Thought I'd die laughing.

Dumouchel, you look like you're
at a funeral! Pour me a drink!

God, why are you all so glum?

Alphonse, tell us a dirty joke!

A dirty joke...

I've got one.

There was this old guy,

comes into the bedroom
with his mast full up.

First time in 10 years. His wife:

For once it's unfurled,
now's the time to wash it!

I've got one!

With my scythe, by accident

I cut my cow's legs off.

How is she?

Too low to get the pail under her!

Know what the difference is
between a Goddamn's tie

and a dog's tail?

A dog's tail covers
the entire asshole.

My only regret is

not loving you enough.

No, it's true.

When I met you, you were everything.

Nothing else interested me.

Seeing you made me dizzy.

I couldn't get a word out.

Then I took up politics.

I was caught in the maelstrom.

Forgive me?

For not loving you as I should have.

There's nothing to forgive.

I knew how important it was.
It was your whole life.

The love I lived with you is like
the one I dreamed of as a girl.

Yes, but I was always gone,

crisscrossing the country.

You raised our kids on your own.

That was my way of fighting.

I hardly saw them grow up.

That's not true.

You always looked after them.

Kiss me.

Excuse me, but...

the men want to see you.

You should be with us.

One moment.

Like to come? It won't be long.

No, I'd rather wait here.

I'll be right back.

Dear compatriots,

down with tyranny.

Long live independence.

My friends,

here's to those
who resist exploitation,

who refuse to live on bended knee,

to all the patriots
around the world,

who fight for liberty.

To all of us!

No, it can't be. I can't!

I don't want to, I'll go mad.

Henriette, calm down.

What'll I do without you?

I'll never be able
to touch you, smell you,

hold you in my arms.

Never again, ever.

Listen to me.

I don't want to listen.

I won't let them hurt you, and me.

They want to destroy us.
I'll fight them off.

With my feet and nails and teeth.

I love you, Thomas.

Do you understand?

I love you.

I love you.

How can I go on living if you die?

You're me, I'm you.

You're part of me.

I won't let them tear you from me.

The monsters.

I'll defend you. I'll bite them,

I'll claw their faces,
gouge their eyes.

Stop it.

Stop it.

It's hopeless.

You can't let them.

You have to live.
For me, our kids, for you!

Stop it.

It's too late.

Don't make it harder for me.

I need my strength
to face this with dignity.

Help me.

I beg you, help me.

For Hindelang and De Lorimier,
given the circumstances,

the prison authorities have extended
visiting hours till 10.

The rest, inside.

We're not animals.

A bed, old man...

with white sheets,

freshly ironed,

that still smell of wind and soap.

Two woolen covers...

No, three.

Thick homespun wool.

And a warm quilt, with flowers...
sweet Jesus!

When'll they give us straw mats?

They're trying to break us.

Keep dreaming.

A nice feather bed,

real thick,

with my missus asleep next to me,

her hair loose.

You snuggle up to her,

it's warm,

and Lord, it feels so right.

I wonder who'll be next.

Hello Guillaume.
-Father.

Xavier.

Hello Charles.

Evening, Father.

I just found out.

I came as fast as I could.

I'm sorry.

Like they say,

we all have to face it some day.

Anything I can do?

You know my beliefs.

Thanks anyway.

How's Thomas holding up?

He's with his wife.

He's taking it hard.

Mercy!

Father,

did you see the others?

Daunais and Narbonne. He's alright,

as hot-headed as ever.
Daunais worries me.

He's like a wounded bird,
huddled in his corner.

His eyes are black with fear.

Heaven help us.

He mentioned your sister.

Only her memory keeps him afloat.

Thank you, Father.

Come on, Henriette.

It's over, my love. You must go.

I won't leave you. I�d rather die.

Don't touch me!

You have to go.

I'm staying. Don't touch me.

Come on.

My love, you must go.

The children, Thomas.

We let you have two hours more.
You must go.

Don't make me use force.

Courage.

Courage.

Don't touch me!

Lieutenant Elliot!

She's his wife.

Let me go! Let me go!

Not another word out of you!

We'll carry her.

Farewell, my darling.

My beautiful darling.

The worst is over.

Are you alright?

How did it go?

Xavier, would you mind
waiting outside?

At the gate

she was still unconscious.

It'll be awful when she wakens.

At least she won't be alone.

This is all my fault

and I can do nothing.

I watch those I love suffer,
but cannot help.

I'm powerless.

You're not alone either.

He is present.

Shall we pray together?

My God, you who bear
all the suffering of men,

the weight of our fears,

help us to die with dignity.

My God, you too died on the gibbet,

like a criminal.

Hear our cry of distress

and ensure that our death
is not in vain.

Welcome us into your paradise

where all suffering is abolished.

Our Father, which art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come,

Thy will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread,

and forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those who trespass against us.

I can't, Father.

I can't forgive our enemies.

Not for what I saw
on my wife's face.

God can't ask that of me.

Forgiveness, yes, but justice too.

Thomas,

I think God is able
to understand that.

Xavier.

How's he doing?

He's calm, he's with the priest.

Who's that priest, a traitor?

No, he's a simple priest,
on our side.

Wipes his ass
with the bishop's pastorals!

Bloody Goddamn-loving bishop!

Leave religion out of it.

It's not religion,

but that scum in robes
who sleeps with the Governor!

Submit! All authority
comes from God!

Rebels will be excommunicated.

Peace! Peace is the greatest good."

Bloody hell!

We keep the peace,
they keep the land and power.

Thank you, Father.

It's me who thanks you.

So few people are willing
to stand up.

Thanks for coming.

Guard!

How are things outside?

Outside?

Are there protests?

Not yet.

People lay low and
wait for the storm to pass.

Then there are
the moderates and cowards

and profiteers who accuse
the Patriots of being extremists.

They blame the disaster on us.

As usual

history will be written
by the victors.

For cowards

liberty is always extremist.

On the eve of rendering
my spirit to its creator,

I wish to share
my feelings and thoughts.

I die without remorse.

I sought the good of my country,
in insurrection and independence.

Death has taken
many of my collaborators.

Others are rotting behind bars.

Still more are in exile,
their property destroyed,

their families abandoned
to our harsh winter, destitute.

Despite all this misfortune,

my heart is filled with courage
and hope for the future.

My friends and children
will know better days.

They will be free,
my conscience assures me.

My children's only inheritance
will be the memory of my woes.

Poor orphans!

It's you I feel sorry for.

Your father's only crime
was failure.

As for you, my compatriots,

the executions of me and
my companions will have a purpose,

to show exactly what may be expected
from the English.

I've but a few hours left to live.

Dear compatriots,

for you I die a murderer's
ignominious death on the gallows;

for you I leave behind
my young children and wife;

for you I die shouting:

Long live liberty!
Long live independence!

Dear Henriette,

you, my darling wife,
have made me truly happy.

I shall not see you again
in this world.

But you, my beloved Henriette,

you shall see me one more time,

though my body will be cold,
lifeless, disfigured.

You must take courage,

you must live for the love
of our dear children.

So be happy, my poor, darling wife.

This is my soul's most ardent wish.

Farewell, my tender wife,
again, farewell.

Live and be happy.

Your miserable husband,

Thomas

Can I see?

At this hour my mother's dreaming.

When she learns the news...

Yes.

Though I'm glad she's not here.

We didn't always get along, but

I know she loves me deeply.

I always ran away.

I don't know why,
I couldn't help it.

Now, in a few hours,

I'll die
without having seen her again.

Bloody hell!

Every day since I've had children,
I've thought of death.

Every day.

Every time I see them.

But little Fran�ois,
I tell you, when he laughs,

when I kiss him on the neck,

it's fantastic.

You forget everything.

It's like the tinkling
of little bells,

like a gurgling brook in spring.

For a few seconds,
death doesn't exist.

That's what eternity must be,

a sparkling laugh.

If you're not careful,
it passes you by.

You miss so much of life.

Marguerite, I remember her,

lying on her tummy,

pulling up her gown, saying:

Papa, Papa, rub my back!

Please!

I think I melted.

It's as if

you're holding all the softness
in the world.

She's soft, she's warm.

She's limp with love.

She's learning what tenderness is.

You're learning
what tenderness is too.

In her eyes, a tiny flame
begins to flicker.

It shines so bright.

We must remain as children.

Mind that you do, Xavier.

We have to fight, but...

we mustn't stop laughing.

We mustn't stop watching the sun.

Old Madame Champenois,

with her white hair pulled back...

I'd gone to say goodbye
before I left.

She'd come out on to the path
beside her house

with her dog,

a little black and white dog,

almost as old as her.

We embraced.

She told me to be careful.

I set off.

I turned around a few times
as I walked.

She was still there,

all hunched over and white
amidst the leaves.

The trees formed a canopy above her,
like a church.

I knew I wouldn't see her again.

Listening to you, I can see her now.

She passed away last year.

That's the last memory I have
of my village.

You're not asleep?

No, I'd rather sit up with you.

You should try to sleep.

I can't.

You think too much.

You mustn't,
if you want to survive.

We have to kill time,

otherwise it'll kill us.

I never did anything worthwhile,
Thomas.

If I hadn't met you,

I'd have wasted my life.

If I hadn't fought with you,

I'd have lived for nothing.

I'd have died for nothing.

With you, I finally broke out.

For the first time in my life

someone was counting on me.

For the first time in my life

I was part of something
bigger than myself.

That's when I started to exist.

Your resistance...

allowed me to exist.

For the first time in my life

I was with people
who didn't judge me,

even if I was different.

Are you sorry?

Not at all.

Anyway, it's too late.

It's not a question of whether
we'll live or die,

but of choosing how we'll die.

My only hope is
people don't forget us,

but learn from our mistakes.

That they are able to unite
for once, just once.

So we don't die in vain.

Finally!

We're freezing in this hole.

I don't want any bread.

No, give it to me after all.

I don't want them to have it.

See you, Joseph.

Thanks.

Leave room for the noose.

Goodbye Charles.

Goodbye Guillaume.

When I'm up above,
in the next world,

send me a few English soldiers,
to keep me company.

But don't forget, I was a major.

So I�ll need some generals above me.

Farewell, my friend.

His wife's hankie.

We'll show them how Frenchmen die.

Courage, Charles.

In the name of the Father and
the Son and the Holy Ghost, amen.

Dear Jesus, I willingly
take up your cross,

and sip the bitter wine
from the chalice you hold out.

But Lord, you know how weak I am.

Help me, support me,

strengthen me,

so that I do not stumble
under the weight of my cross,

but bear it, in your footsteps,

with courage and perseverance,

to the summit of my Calvary,

to be crucified
and die with you there.

In the name of the Father and
the Son and the Holy Ghost, amen.

I'm ready.

Amable!

Don't let the Goddamns win.

Think of Louise, Amable.

Think of Louise.

Let go of me, I can walk on my own!

Guillaume, tell your sister

I died like a man.

Farewell, Guillaume!

We'll meet in heaven,

one day.

One day they'll pay for this.

We'll make them pay.

One day we'll take back
what those bastards stole from us.

We shall win! We shall win!

They're tying their feet.

It's your turn now to be afraid.

Holy Mary, pray for us sinners now
and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Hail Mary, full of grace,
blessed art Thou among women,

and blessed is
the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus.

On this scaffold,
built by Englishmen,

I die knowing I have done my duty.

This sentence is unjust.

May the guilty
answer for this crime.

Farewell!

I bequeath to you
the motto of France:

Long live liberty!

Long live liberty!

Long live independence!

Narbonne's hand...

He's holding on.

FEBRUARY 15, 1839

I am a drop of blood
that fertilizes the soil.

I die because I must die,
so the people may live."

Anonymous,
quoted by Ernesto "Che" Guevara