Original subtitles

Your hand.

It'll hurt less.

It doesn't hurt.

Who did this to you?

The one I gave the letter to.

He wanted to know who wrote it.

Fouché.

I didn't say anything.

That's good.

- To death! - Down with the tyrant!

DOWN WITH THE TYRANT

Take up arms!

Long live the revolution!

Move!

What gown will you wear for Germaine's reception?

If I wear a prettier dress than hers, she'll be jealous.

It is her party after all.

But if you wear one that's not as pretty, you'll be the jealous one.

Whoa. Whoa.

What is happening?

The road is blocked, Madame!

A protest!

That's absurd! Continue forward!

And don't forget, from now on it's Princess!

Go! Go! Go!

But...

Down with the tyrant!

Stop! Stop!

Get back, you bastards!

Help!

It's the whore.

We've got the devil's whore, guys!

How about a little stroll...

- Let go! - ...with real people?

Let me go!

To death!

Down with the clergy!

Long live the revolution! Down with the tyrant!

The police!

Thank God you weren't hurt.

Don't thank God, thank Fouché's men.

Bold, but I see neither name nor signature.

Are you joking? You know full well that Staël did it.

She's playing the armchair revolutionary again!

Calm down. The revolution is over. And she knows it.

See? You're still defending her.

You're still in love with her, aren't you?

Don't be silly.

I'm beholden to her.

That's even worse than love.

She was the only one to help me when I was in exile.

Don't tell me you still plan on going to her party.

I'm lending her my cook.

It's almost my party too, no?

Don't worry. Hmm?

Of course not. As usual,

you have the situation under control.

DEATH TO BONAPARTE!

Puff pastry for lunch.

You're making mille-feuilles for Madame de Staël's?

You've come to talk to me about the menu?

Read this.

"Down with the tyrant.

Jacobins, condemned by a merciless tyrant, have been left to rot in dungeons,

if they're not already dead.

These men are entitled to a fair trial."

And so?

This scrap of paper, whose "anonymous" author is indeed Madame de Staël,

has set Paris aflame.

She's fighting for a fair trial.

She's doing more for Bailly than both of us combined.

Germaine loves defending great causes, but she's going about it all wrong.

The more oil she adds to the fire, the more brutal Bonaparte's reprisals are.

She doesn't understand that he never gives in to force.

So what? Want me to poison her?

No.

I want to save her.

If Fouché finds the original,

its author will be executed

or imprisoned for life to serve as an example.

That will not help our plans.

However, if I make these pamphlets disappear,

I'll remove a thorn from our First Consul's side,

and I will organize a reconciliation between Staël and Bonaparte.

She'll have plenty of time to plead the case of the Jacobins and Bailly.

Why would she have kept the original?

Out of defiance.

And because she always keeps her writings as relics.

If you're here,

I assume it's to ask me to pick up this pamphlet at the party.

Of course, I could slip into her lodgings myself like a stealthy cat.

- But with this foot... - Of course.

...you'll agree it's not fitting for my rank.

You'll never just let me cook, will you?

I am fair when it is necessary.

Antonin.

It's ready!

One of Monsieur Carême's inventions.

- And what is this called? - No,

it's not ready.

Minister.

The boy we released this morning has rushed to the...

To the Hôtel de Galliffet.

When it's complicated, tortuous and hazy, it always leads back to Talleyrand.

Unfortunately, we have other urgent matters.

DOWN WITH THE TYRANT

Talleyrand's princess was attacked this morning on Rue du Bac.

How?

And I suspect Madame de Staël was behind this little riot.

I have to speak with Madame de Staël.

THOUGHTS ON INNER PEACE

Has she signed it at least?

Too bad.

You're late.

Nothing is more inspiring than love.

Madame, I'm here to present tonight's menu.

All of Paris will be there.

You're putting your reputation at risk.

We're planning two soups, ten hors d'oeuvres,

two roasts, followed by...

The rainbow trout with the Nivernaise cream sauce sounds particularly promising.

Good.

What about the appetizer?

Is there no appetizer?

It's a surprise.

A dish prepared in my own way.

- Is that the sauce? - Yes.

Another twist of pepper.

And some nutmeg.

So?

That's good.

Something's missing.

Are you sure?

Think.

First time we're making a savory dish with puff pastry,

we shouldn't overdo it, Antonin.

I'm sure.

- Where are you going? - I need to clear my mind.

- Take a vacation while you're at it. - Why not?

You hit an animal?

Almost.

The angry protesters that almost killed me.

You know Catherine. She managed on her own.

You're laughing but people died today for believing this rabble-rousing propaganda.

Was it the propaganda that killed them or was it the police?

Who knows?

You invited Louis Bonaparte?

Yes.

I even invited his brother.

But with the tumult going on I doubt he'll come.

I know you're the one behind the pamphlets.

Glad you're still able to recognize my inimitable style.

Come in, my friends.

May the festivities begin.

- Almost. - Have I invented something amazing?

Yes!

- Gutenberg! - Yes!

He is short, hairy and very noisy. You're rather close to each other.

JULIUS CAESAR

You're so slow.

Oh, I know! It's Grimod's monkey, isn't it?

Almost.

We give up.

Come on...

DOWN WITH THE TYRANT!

- Charles. - We'll talk about it later.

Not about this.

About what?

I'm pregnant.

- Is it... - Yes!

Yours.

Or the Holy Ghost's.

No one can know.

You want them to believe it's your husband's.

It'll be the most important child in France.

Until Mother and Bonaparte have an heir, it'll be him.

The heir.

If this gets out...

they'll destroy us.

And I don't want to lose you.

Anne of Austria?

Ah, no.

Drop that morel!

- Don't you want to kill it? - Wait until you have kids.

Let it go!

What the hell is a monkey doing in my kitchen?

And you, Monsieur?

Why aren't you in your kitchen?

Monsieur Grimod de la Reynière, in my kitchen. It's an honor, sir.

It's Madame de Staël's kitchen.

She claims you're a prodigy child.

Now I wonder if it's for your cooking or your appearance.

Sorry!

You're a pastry chef, aren't you?

You trained with Monsieur Bailly.

Sad turn of events. Poor man.

Although we won't miss his cooking.

I hope you don't take after him.

What have you planned?

We like surprises.

Not me.

Don't open it, it's not ready.

Nice. Is it a new dessert?

It's not a dessert.

Nobody tastes my creations until I decide.

Even Monsieur Grimod de la Reynière.

I hope your guests won't have the same reaction.

Who is that little brat?

The founder of the Almanach des Gourmands.

The biggest French food critic.

The cooks' executioner.

Go! Let's show him what we are made of. Look.

Plate?

Here.

Something is missing.

Morels, of course!

Smart!

Wonderful.

I want 50.

Back to work.

Get to it! You heard him. He wants 50!

Let's get to work!

What do we call this plate?

- We don't call it. - We don't call it?

- We eat it. - We eat it.

Get to it!

Are you spying on me?

Did my father put you up to it?

What's so funny?

You really think you're that important to him?

You heard nothing.

And you saw no one.

Tread lightly. Understood?

Father.

May I have a word with you?

Did you get what I asked for?

"He's out on his own, among the men.

The tyrannical gods had fallen, and Napoleon Bonaparte appeared."

See, it's not a squib, it's an ode to his glory.

"Down with the tyrant." How could I know? It's the same title.

She thinks this is a game.

I don't think so. I think she's just protecting herself.

You should listen to your cook.

I knew you'd send your spy to get my text,

so I wrote this fake pamphlet to cover my tracks.

Germaine, I beg you.

Stop spreading these pamphlets.

If Fouché finds the original, you'll be guillotined.

Show us where you're hiding the original

before he finds out.

And if you don't do it for yourself, do it for me.

I couldn't stand seeing you locked up.

Or dead.

Follow me.

- Baroness. - Minister.

Usually, invitations are for two people.

If you get one, of course.

That one-of-a-kind humor.

We came to guarantee your safety.

Haven't you heard about what's happening in the streets?

With all of Paris under the same roof,

you're a perfect target for the trouble-makers.

I don't doubt you have our protection at heart.

Do you like to play, Minister?

Only when I'm sure to win.

Come, let me introduce you to a few easy targets.

Oh, cook.

- Yes, Madame? - Would you be so kind as to serve us

the Chambertin Grand Cru?

Are you sure, Madame?

We'd agreed to serve a Haut-Brion.

Chambertin. Grand Cru.

Okay, Madame.

I want to honor our First Consul.

It's his favorite wine, isn't it?

Antonin! The appetizers are ready!

Let me taste it.

You don't want Grimod to eat them cold, do you?

And they still don't have a name!

Don't worry. Start serving.

I'll be right there.

Crécy, Romanée-Conti...

Crécy, Mercurey.

Where's the Chambertin?

Am I someone important?

Oh, yes.

You're Robespierre.

You're the Duke of Enghien.

You're Cleopatra.

CLEOPATRA

I'm so good at this game.

So I'm... I am, I am, I am...

You are your brother.

My turn, Minister.

May I?

Am I dead?

Yes.

Did Fouché kill me?

Of course, like many others.

Gunned?

Guillotine?

I'm Louis XVI.

Bravo!

If Your Excellencies are hungry,

you can come and eat.

The appetizers are ready, they're getting cold.

How bold!

The cook hasn't bothered to come and present these...

Vol-au-vent!

Made with pastry so light it could literally float away.

A new dish you are the first to taste.

It looks crunchy like a mille-feuille.

Dessert in the middle of the meal?

I'm not interested in your words.

Only your palate matters.

At least your companion has good taste.

This is the first savory dessert I've ever had.

I'd be lying if I didn't recognize your talent, Monsieur... Carême.

Pity it comes with such a poor education.

But your insolence comes as no surprise,

seeing as you are Bailly's apprentice.

If you dishonor his name again,

we'll settle this with pistols, Monsieur.

Come, gentlemen, the Minister of Police does not endorse such practices.

Instead, tell us what you think of this Chambertin.

Oh, apologies, Monsieur, hang me if this is Chambertin!

This isn't a Bourgogne, but a Bordeaux.

Haut-Brion, 1779.

One of Monsieur de Talleyrand's domains, if I recall.

Exactly, yes.

Do you usually search the houses of those you claim to protect?

Remove these.

Did you know having one of these at home is prohibited?

A private press for private parties.

Isn't this a bit much?

Minister...

DOWN WITH THE TYRANT!

Is this a joke?

"The gods fell and he appeared...

Napoleon Bonaparte!"

Like I told you,

I admire him.

Don't ever do that to me again, Antonin.

Sorry?

I was alone. You left me alone. It was a mess.

I made a fool of myself.

"It's going to get cold." How stupid!

Hey, hey, hey.

You did great.

- Thank God you were here. - How would you know? You weren't there.

I felt it, from afar.

Why are you smiling?

Because you didn't!

Thank you.

"It's going to get cold."

Next time, bring your wife instead.

It'll put your hatred aside.

DOWN WITH THE TYRANT

You're under arrest, dear Baroness.

Follow me.

Don't be arrogant, Minister.

I could return the compliment, Monsieur de Talleyrand.

Minister, too.

Well...

Escort her to the courtyard and wait for me.

You must flee among the crowd.

I can't protect you here.

I'm not afraid to face my destiny.

France needs you alive.

From exile, you can return. From death, I can only think of one person who has.

Leave now.

My carriage is at the back.

Please.

Pretend I'm not here.

So, the Chambertin?

You didn't find it in the end?

The Baroness must have made a mistake.

Odd, a cook who doesn't know his cellar.

This isn't my cellar.

I work for Monsieur de Talleyrand.

Really?

So you work for Talleyrand

after apprenticing for Bailly.

He's my father.

I mean, my adoptive father.

He's in prison.

I know.

Have you met him?

Indeed, we had a little "discussion."

A charming man.

He's been quite fatigued lately.

He's innocent, Monsieur.

I swear he's innocent. And he's entitled to a fair trial!

Are you questioning our First Consul's sense of justice?

No, of course not.

Let me see him.

Please, Monsieur. It's my father.

- At least once. - Calm down.

People say I'm a monster. Well, I'll prove to you I'm not.

Seeing him is impossible.

But I can give him a message, if you care to write to him.

Minister, Madame de Staël has vanished.

Find her now!

Let's go, Bailly.

The minister wants to see you.

The Paris Gazette!

The Paris Gazette!

I thought you were a suspect like the others, Monsieur Bailly.

I rarely say this, but I was wrong.

Don't you want to taste it?

Your son has talent, I must admit.

Pity he's using it to assist the wrong people, like Talleyrand.

In any case, he's thinking of you.

YOU CAN'T BEGIN TO IMAGINE THE COURAGE AND STRENGTH

YOUR LETTER GAVE ME

"...I'll find a way to..."

It's the same handwriting, isn't it?

It can be traced to the conspiracy against the First Consul.

Your son is in a very bad position.

That can't be. He's innocent.

So, everyone in your family is innocent.

Let me talk to him.

Who am I to stop a father from talking to his son?

No, we could make a deal.

What do you expect from me?

You're innocent but you're rotting here?

Talleyrand is guilty but he's free. Is that fair?

Tell your son to give me proof of Talleyrand's involvement in the attack,

and you can both go back to baking as much bread as you want.

Just send the message.

Your son will do the rest.

You really think he can fool a man like Talleyrand?

Don't underestimate him.

He seems smart.

Sure you don't want any?

It's divine.

Not a good time!

Agathe? What are you doing here?

Who is that?

Can you put that there?

Come and get it.

Come and get it.

"Come and get it. Come and get it."

Fine.

Thank you.

- What is it? - Grimod de la Reynière.

Madame de Staël's dinner party review.

ALMANAC

"The vol-au-vent, a pleasant and original enough dish, and that's all.

Why must all these young cooks seek out originality at all costs?

Must they always stray away from their predecessors' knowledge?

As for the vol-au-vent, the winds of history will no doubt blow it away."

- What a fool. - He liked it.

You couldn't shut it, for once?

She's not wrong.

Are you both against me?

Yes.

You'll see.

I reckon the winds of history will blow away Grimod's name sooner than Carême's!

Thank you, Agathe.

Yeah.

Any news?

Staël is in Switzerland. In the Canton of Vaud near Lake Geneva.

Give me a few days, I'll find a way to copy one of her letters to Talleyrand.

You think I'd let one of her letters cross the border to France?

Have you forgotten who you're working for?

Do you have something to tell me?

You're the one who has something to tell me.

Why haven't you said anything about Talleyrand's new cook?

I barely saw him.

He's just a cook.

I'm not asking you to think, but to keep me informed.

Of everything.

Of course.

This is the cook's handwriting.

Like this...

It's the same handwriting, right?

And that boy also copied Bonaparte's itinerary,

which we found at the scene of the attack. Don't you find it strange?

Tell me. If I'm the one who's keeping you informed,

what good are you to me?

I'll find out everything I can about him.

Do what you must.

Sleep with him if necessary.

But bring me the secret that ties him to Talleyrand.

Try not to disappoint me, Henriette.

The two of us had a deal, remember?

You can count on me.