Original subtitles

FALSE CONFESSIONS

Please be so kind, Monsieur, as to sit there for a moment.

Mademoiselle Marton is with Madame. She will be down presently.

Much obliged.

I can keep you company so you do not grow bored.

Let's talk meanwhile.

No, thank you. There is no need.

Don't feel ill at ease, sir.

No, I insist,

I'll be perfectly fine by myself.

I beg your pardon, Monsieur.

As you please.

Ah, here you are!

- No-one here must know I know you. - Right.

You've told Monsieur Remy nothing about our plan?

No, not a word.

He has most candidly introduced me as a secretary.

I enquired about the lady and he happens to be her agent.

He has no idea you referred me to him.

But she has over £50,000 a year, Dubois.

And you have nothing.

And you think she'll notice me, that I'll marry her?

I am nothing,

have nothing.

Nothing?

You have the finest features!

Turn around, let me see, Monsieur.

I see no way we might fail.

We can't fail.

I can already see you at home in Madame's apartments.

So you have seen her and love her?

I love her passionately...

I'm shaking.

Oh, spare me your shaking.

Have a little confidence. You'll succeed.

I'll see to it.

You'll be wed, proud as we are;

and wealthy, poor as you are.

My uncle called me here this morning to introduce me to her,

or to a Mademoiselle...

- Marton. - Yes, Marton.

By the way,

try to woo Marton a little too.

Love and I will do the rest.

What do you think of that tall young man?

And why, Monsieur Remy, must I say?

He's my nephew.

I see!

Your nephew is indeed rather fetching...

as befits the family.

He's the secretary I'm introducing to Madame.

I'm so glad you like him.

But did you know he's seen you at my house,

several times?

No, I had no idea.

Well, we don't always notice these things.

Do you know what he said the first time he saw you?

"Now, who's that pretty girl I see?"

Look at that look...

Come over here, nephew dear.

I can't stay.

I'll be back soon.

Do you know her?

No, Monsieur; why?

Something occurred to me on my way here.

She's pretty...

and from a fine family.

Yes, I believe so.

You'll be living in the same house now.

I suggest you marry her. What do you think?

Oh! I wasn't thinking of her...

Well I suggest you think of her, and endeavour to endear her.

You have nothing.

You're my heir

but I'm in good health and intend to remain so.

And I might marry.

I have no wish to today but might wish to tomorrow.

So many fine peaches might kindle the wish.

So beware, nephew mine:

seek security should you forgo my inheritance...

I might bequeath it to you today,

but may well revoke it tomorrow.

Ah Marton!

So you're here about the position as private secretary?

I hear you're versed in business.

Is that so?

Yes, Madame: my father was a solicitor

and I could be one myself.

Then I suppose you come from a fine family.

Is this position not beneath you?

I see nothing undignified in this position, Madame.

The honour of serving a woman such as you is beneath no-one

and I will envy no-one.

Marten, he's so handsome I'm having second thoughts about hiring him.

Will people not talk?

- Must all secretaries be eyesores? - You're right.

He's my agent's nephew and he recommends him. I'll take him.

Show him to his apartments.

But let him choose;

if they don't suit him, there are others.

A friend told me about another secretary the other day.

But the case is closed.

It's him I want.

We will treat you with all the regard you merit.

You can't be a day over 30.

Not quite, Madame...

Plenty of time to find happiness.

I am finding it already, Madame.

See you later!

Come, I'll show you the suite.

Arlequin!

Your realm!

- Very nice! - Monsieur Remy is most expeditious.

- It all feels like a dream. - Perhaps.

Your love seems sudden.

Will it be enduring as well?

Oh, well, one and the other, Mademoiselle...

If you need anything, knock on that wall.

It's my room.

Arlequin, you belong to Monsieur now.

Madame has given you to him.

What?

Won't I belong to myself any longer?

Instead of serving Madame Araminte, it is he you will serve.

Come on, let's visit the rest.

I don't know why Madame is dismissing me.

I have always served her well.

She's not dismissing you.

She'll pay you to be Monsieur's.

The kitchen...

I'm Madame's valet.

I don't know why Madame is dismissing me.

I have always served her well.

She's not dismissing you. She'll pay you to be Monsieur's.

That would be unfair!

I won't labour here and charge my wages there.

I won't labour here and charge my wages there.

Why is she dismissing me? I don't deserve it...

She's not!

This is Madame Argante's mother's room.

Make no noise...

Forgive me, Madame. I didn't mean to disturb you.

Of course you did.

And I know why.

I may be in my fortress but I know everything that goes on.

My daughter has taken on a new private secretary.

I'm flustered.

Comte Dorimont had engaged one for her.

He should do.

So it's you.

Who would have thought. You're rather young...

30 is age enough to be a private secretary.

Stay there!

She would rather I hired another?

Yes, seems so.

And where do you come from?

John, chair!

Don't blush. You're the one I need.

And where do you come from, once again?

My home, Madame:

- Your home! - I've worked for no-one yet.

So you're an apprentice?

Monsieur is versed in business.

I don't care much for this man.

Does he look anything like a secretary? Not to me.

He's the man we need, Madame.

As long as Monsieur keeps to our agenda I care little

if we use him or another.

And may I ask what that agenda is, Madame?

Have you heard of Comte Dorimont?

No, Madame.

My daughter and he had a dispute

over a sizeable plot of land.

And it occurred to us that wedding them would avoid a lawsuit.

My daughter's late husband left her a very rich woman.

But, as Countess Dorimont,

she would be so very distinguished and mingle with such eminent people.

I long for the wedding.

And have they both agreed?

Not entirely, yet.

But my daughter will soon come around.

What is the concern here, Madame?

Tell my daughter,

once you have reviewed her case,

that it is weak, that she would lose the lawsuit.

If her case is weak,

I'll most certainly tell her, Madame.

What a nitwit! That's not what we're saying.

We're instructing you to tell her

that her case is weak whether or not it is.

But Madame, it would be wrong to mislead her.

"Wrong!"

I'm her mother and I'm ordering you to mislead her for her own good.

Understand? Me, me, me!

Ah, Monsieur le Comte.

Arlequin. Here...

- For Madame... - Yes, of course.

It would still be dishonest of me...

Scram, Monsieur suit.

Monsieur suit who suits no-one at all.

Madame is out. I'll tell her you called.

Too bad...

I'll be back.

I'm sorry I had no time to warn you Madame Argante is rather blunt.

Yes...

that mother is not at all like her daughter...

They are somewhat different.

And she's bent on the marriage, as you see.

Does it matter what you tell the daughter?

As long as her mother backs you,

I see nothing reprehensible.

It wouldn't be dishonest.

I beg to differ.

I would still be prodding her into a decision she might rather avoid.

Wait.

I'm being told to make up her mind.

So she is unwilling to marry the Comte?

She's indolent.

Believe me,

let's tell the truth.

I have a good reason,

and you would be wise to listen to reason too:

the Comte has promised me

a handsome sum the day the marriage contract is signed.

And, according to Monsieur Remy's plans,

that money will be for you as well as me.

Come now, Mademoiselle Marton!

You're the sweetest girl on earth but that money only tantalises you

because you have given it insufficient thought.

On the contrary: the more I think about it

the more it tantalises me.

But you're fond of your mistress!

What if she were unhappy with that man?

Wouldn't you rue your part in it

for such a paltry sum?

Say what you like.

The Comte is a decent man. The details elude me.

Think about the money.

You will enjoy it as much as I.

They want me to marry...

Comte Dorimont to avoid a big lawsuit

over some land I own.

I know, Madame.

And I had the misfortune of vexing Madame Argante over the matter.

How so?

Well, if you have a strong case to take to court,

they want me to tell you otherwise

so you'll hastily agree to the marriage.

I begged to be relieved.

My mother's so frivolous!

I knew I could count on your loyalty.

Don't change a thing, and don't let anything my mother said disturb you.

I disapprove her behaviour.

Did she say anything obnoxious?

Never mind, Madame.

It has only made me keener to serve your interests.

That's why I want no-one to upset you

and will make sure they don't.

What is the matter?

I won't stand for it any longer.

So they resent your diligence!

They are rude to you because you are gracious to them?

How dare they?

Madame, with all due respect,

pay no heed.

I am overwhelmed by your kindness.

I'm only too happy to be scolded in your stead.

What's the matter?

Your feelings are admirable.

But let's get back to the lawsuit.

I haven't finished. Wait here for a minute, please.

What's wrong, Dubois?

Nothing, Madame.

But I must ask you to accept my resignation.

Must you?

Because you've seen Dorante here?

Have you any idea who he is?

My agent Monsieur Remy's nephew.

And how did he slither his way in here?

Monsieur Remy sent him, as a private secretary.

That boy's a demon.

Explain yourself.

- Do you know him? - Do I know him!

Did you not see how swiftly he turned away?

But would he do any harm, as far as you know?

- Is he not an upstanding man? - He is!

There is no finer man on earth.

He is more upright than 50 good men together.

His integrity is wondrous. Perhaps unmatched.

So why are you worrying me?

I'm starting to shake.

His only flaw is here.

His head's damaged.

- His head! - Yes, his pet's cracked.

Cracked as pots can be.

Dorante! He seemed perfectly sensible to me.

What proof do you have?

What proof?

He went mad six months ago.

He has been deliriously in love for six months now,

it's consumed his brain, he's adrift.

I should know:

I used to work for him.

That's why I left then and must leave again.

Otherwise, the man's outstanding.

I see. He can do as he pleases but I won't keep him.

Well, forgive me,

but his madness is in good taste.

It doesn't matter. I'm sending him away.

Do you know this person?

I have the honour of seeing her every day.

She is you, Madame.

He worships you.

You must have noticed that bedazzled look when he speaks to you.

Yes!

There did seem to be something a little unusual.

That poor boy!

But where had he seen me before, Dubois?

Alas!

Madame, he lost his mind when he saw you leaving the Opera.

It was a Friday,

I remember. Yes, a Friday.

From then on, he spent his days

daydreaming and love-struck.

And I spent mine spying on your comings and goings.

You amaze me so!

We spent the evenings out in the street,

just to see Madame go in and come out.

In the end, I grew weary, my health faltered...

And I left.

My good fortune then brought me here,

and now he has weaselled his way into your employ.

And he'd sooner stay than lord over an empire.

This is so odd.

I'm so tired of people deceiving me.

I was pleased with his decency.

I'm not angry; that's beneath me.

You'd be kind to dismiss him.

The more he sees you, the worse he'll get.

I would, but it won't help him.

And what would I tell Monsieur...

Remy, he recommended him. It's tricky.

I see no elegant way out.

Yes, but then he will never heal.

Well, too bad for him.

I need a private secretary in my circumstances.

And it's not as risky as you think.

On the contrary.

If one thing can restore this man,

it is seeing me more often.

It would do him a favour.

Yes, and it would be innocuous.

He'll never utter a word of his love.

Are you sure?

Have no fear, he'd sooner die!

Does he fancy his love might be requited?

No.

He asks for nothing but to behold you,

your eyes, your gracious ways,

your comely figure.

That's all. He's told me a thousand times.

I find that most deserving of compassion.

I'll wait a few days until I find another.

And don't worry.

I'm well pleased with you and will reward your diligence.

But you're staying.

- Madame... - Do you understand, Dubois?

- I'm devoted to you for life. - He mustn't know I know.

Keep the secret.

Tell no-one.

Not even Marton.

These things must never transpire.

I've told no-one but you, Madame.

Off you go.

The truth: That's an admission I could have done without.

What was I saying?

I've forgotten.

Yes, I was saying they want us to marry.

Yes, and I believe you were about to add that

you were reluctant.

That's right. I wanted you to look into the case.

But I believe I might have to relieve you.

I'm not certain I can keep you.

But Madame, you kindly assured me that you would.

Yes, but I'd forgotten I'd promised the Comte

to hire the secretary he referred.

It would be rude to break my word.

I must at least meet the one he refers.

I feel miserable.

- Everything I do is doomed. - That's not what I said.

Nothing is decided.

Spare me this uncertainty, Madame.

I'll try my best to keep you.

I will.

So do you want me to look into the case?

Let's wait. If I were to marry the Comte,

it would be pointless.

I had understood you were disinclined, Madame.

I am for now.

Your circumstances are so untroubled

and easy-going.

I haven't the heart to afflict him.

Yes, look into the case.

I have papers in the study.

I'll bring them to you.

My, oh my!

I still can't see why Madame dismissed me.

You get two wages.

I didn't deserve it. I've always served her well.

So where's Dorante?

Madame's expecting some papers from him.

But who knows if he'll stay.

Mind your business.

I'm following Madame's orders.

Madame is virtuous and wise,

but beware.

Isn't that young admirer a little starry-eyed?

He has the eyes he has.

I know I've seen the dandy somewhere,

and he was ogling Madame.

And it upsets you that someone finds her attractive?

No, but I wonder if he isn't here to get a closer look.

Nonsense! You don't understand a thing.

You've got it all wrong.

You mean I'm blind.

Your observations are most unusual.

How are they treating you?

She's... very kind.

How did she take it?

She's leaning towards keeping you out of pity.

She hopes that seeing her will cure you.

No, really?

She won't slip away. We're making progress.

No, Madame,

there is no risk...

in taking this case to court.

Nothing here binds you to marry.

I'm in two minds.

I'll make him miserable.

It would be wrong

to sacrifice yourself because he might be miserable.

Have you looked properly?

Aren't you a little too biased against the marriage?

And against the Comte?

No, Madame.

I care about your interests more than his, or anyone's.

In any case, if I do marry him

and he wishes to replace you,

I shall find you a better position.

I think I'll take the case to court.

We'll see.

Incidentally, Dubois says he has worked for you.

It's true, Madame.

Yes...

He is faithful but not entirely truthful.

I hope he is not turning you against me?

He speaks very highly of you.

Madame, I'd like to thank you for kindly taking on my nephew

on my recommendation.

I didn't think twice, as you can see.

Did you mention you'd been offered another?

Indeed, Monsieur.

I'm glad. I'd like this one back for an important matter.

What do you mean?

Patience! Patience! Patience!

But Monsieur Remy, this is rather hasty.

And badly timed.

I've turned down the other person.

And I won't leave Madame's service...

Unless she dismisses me.

You have no idea what you're saying.

This is the matter at hand:

A lady of 35,

pretty it would seem,

with several thousand pounds a year, and proof of it.

She met Monsieur at my house,

spoke with him and knows he has no property.

She will marry you without delay and wants an answer promptly.

I am to take you to her house straight away.

It's obvious.

Am I wrong, Madame?

Let him answer.

Well, what does he think?

No, I won't marry her, Monsieur;

We wouldn't be happy. My heart is taken.

My love is elsewhere.

Ah, "my love is elsewhere!". How inconvenient.

The heart is an admirable thing!

Who would have fathomed that heart's dainty reservations;

a heart that will serve in another's house,

not be served in his own house.

I can't force a change of heart, Monsieur.

But Dorante,

try to overcome your feelings if you can.

I know it's not easy.

It's impossible, Madame.

I care for my love more than my life.

You senseless imbecile!

The woman you love has a chimp's brain

if she thinks otherwise.

Am I being unreasonable, Madame?

Isn't he overreacting?

Talk to him.

He moves me so, I have to leave.

What do you make of a penniless man

who snubs a young lady making £15,000 a year?

He's delirious.

Please help me show him reason.

You're very pretty.

But no eyes, however beautiful, warrant such surrender.

Do you mean Dorante?

Yes.

He is turning down wealth to save himself for me?

Yes.

Oh! Dorante, that's so commendable!

I never thought you loved me so.

A woman's heart catches fire astonishingly fast.

Monsieur, who needs so much wealth to be content?

- I am so grateful, Dorante! - No, Mademoiselle, you mustn't.

You have nothing to thank me for,

I'm following my heart.

I don't expect you to be grateful.

You charm me,

it's so delightful.

Such tender words have never been spoken.

I'm clearly clueless. I find him ever so dull.

Farewell, sweet child.

I wouldn't have forfeited what he's paid for you.

Idiot!

You keep your affection; I'll keep my inheritance.

Who's that? The Comte?

Comte Dorimont.

He's marrying Madame.

I must go. I see a murderous shine in his eyes.

Is he the secretary taking my protégé's position?

Yes he is.

He's good-looking,

but doesn't look much like a secretary.

I'm sorry but he's charming.

Araminte doesn't despise me, I trust?

Oh, quite the opposite.

Yes, but she's taking her time to decide.

And all it should take to make up her mind is the knowledge

that our dispute's outcome is unlikely to favour her.

A lawsuit would encumber her.

Marton...

Let's talk to this young man.

If money is all it takes

- to rally him to our cause... - Oh, no.

There is not a man in France who cares less for money.

Too bad, his sort is a waste of time.

As your father must go on a journey...

As your father must go on a journey...

- As my father... - Your father.

Repeat: as my father must go on a journey...

You've seen his face but don't know his name.

So I've seen his face but don't know his name.

You have strict instructions to give this to no-one but its owner.

I have strict instructions to give this to no-one but its owner.

I have strict instructions to give this to no-one but its owner.

Show it to us.

There's a lady's portrait inside.

- It wasn't you, Comte? - No, no, most certainly not.

Surely not you, Monsieur.

I know whom you seek:

a great man,

Monsieur Dorante.

I believe that's his name.

A lady's portrait? What does this mean?

- Have you seen the portrait? - No, I paid no attention.

Well it's for me.

Just give me the box.

It's safe with me.

You see I know about it.

Kindly give it to him at once when he arrives.

I certainly will.

- Because I say so. - No.

- Yes. - No.

She'll turn up here with the portrait.

Dorante!

You're so kind!

I would be so unfair if I did not love you.

- But I don't know... - Oh, spare me the mystery.

I have it,

the box, my Dorante.

I'm going to have a look.

It's all working. She fell for it beautifully...

You called, Madame?

Marton,

what is this portrait the Comte tells me about,

delivered to an unnamed man,

presumably of me?

Enlighten me.

It's nothing, Madame. Nothing of interest to you.

How do you know, Mademoiselle?

Have you seen the portrait?

Well, practically.

And I know whom it concerns.

If you're so well informed, tell us. I want to know.

Speak!

Well, Madame,

it's my portrait!

Your portrait?

Yes, mine.

And why not? Don't look so astonished!

I rather agree with the Comte. It seems peculiar.

And who incurred that expense for you?

A most lovely man, who loves me,

who is thoughtful, sensitive

and seeks my hand!

It's Dorante!

My secretary?

Your secretary.

The prat has feelings!

He has had time to paint you?

He's seen me before.

Give it to me.

I haven't opened the box it yet but it's me you'll see.

I was so utterly mistaken.

I suspected so: it's Madame.

Oh, Madame!...

It's true!

Dubois was right.

What on earth led you to believe it was you?

Well, my word, Madame...

Dorante loves me and has declined fortune for me.

So I concluded it was me he had painted.

Was I wrong?

Of course I was.

I give up.

I'm unworthy of such privilege.

I realise how utterly reckless I was and will say no more.

Bastard! You asked for it!

What's that noise?

Madame, I believe you should do something.

Bastard!

Take that! And that!

You'll see!

Vermin!

What's the matter?

What are you quarrelling about?

Tell her!

Madame, this is the matter.

While arranging Monsieur Dorante's apartments,

I happened upon a portrait of you, Madame.

I decided to take it down.

It was inappropriate.

It was improper to leave it. So I was about to remove it.

Then this oaf tried to stop me and we almost raised our fists.

How dare you take down a perfectly lovely painting?

Which my master was contemplating

with such eagerness only a moment earlier?

I saw the bliss in his heart when he beheld it.

And this bewildered brute wants to dispossess a good man

of a painting that delights him so.

Sheer malice!

Take something he can spare but not that painting, you animal.

What do you see that I don't?

I lack discernment,

I admit.

I see no reason to dismiss a man who came highly recommended,

a man of some substance who serves me well,

perhaps only too well.

At least I can discern that much.

You're so blind!

Or we each see with our own eyes.

I'll say no more about Dorante.

I'll simply return, hear what you have to say,

and, if you dismiss him as I presume you will,

the one I found for you will be available.

I'll keep him a few more days.

Stay, Monsieur le Comte.

I'll talk to Dubois.

If he gives me good reason

to dismiss this secretary who so barefacedly beholds paintings,

he'll be gone shortly.

Otherwise,

you will all kindly concede that I keep him as long as I please.

Oh, he won't please you for long.

It is your reckless behaviour that brings me here,

to pretend to ask what you know about him.

My mother and the Comte now expect a shocking report.

What can I say to shock them now?

This one's easy to set straight.

Tell them that people who know him have told me

he is unfit to work for you.

Even though he is perfectly fit.

The problem is that, if he is fit,

they will tell me to send him away and it's too early.

I've thought about it.

It would be unwise

and now I must tread ever so lightly,

coddle the overflowing passion you say he harbours,

so it doesn't erupt in a moment of pain.

I can't rely on a desperate man.

I'm keeping him not because I need him,

but to protect myself now.

How can I take Monsieur Dorante this burnt shirt?

Your problem.

Unless Marton is right.

Then I have nothing to fear.

She says he had seen her at Monsieur Remy's house...

Or rather that Dorante had seen her...

there and had long been in love,

so they were to marry.

Dorante had never seen Marton.

Monsieur Remy made up that fib to marry them off.

- He told you that? - Yes.

I had high hopes he would marry Marton

and get over me.

But no, it's not to be.

Wait!

What if he says something that gives me reason to complain?

But he says nothing.

All I know about his love is what you say.

I have no grounds to dismiss him.

Of course I'd be upset if he spoke.

But it would be convenient if he upset me.

Ah, Monsieur Dorante is unworthy of Madame.

If he were wealthy,

things would be different. His lineage is fine.

But his wealth is in his virtue, and that's not enough.

You're right, it's not.

Custom dictates it's not.

I have no idea how to deal with him.

I'll see.

I might try to trap him.

Everyone here dislikes me.

They hound me, scheme to drive me out.

I'm distraught.

I fear you'll surrender to their hostility.

I couldn't bear it.

Calm down.

Your fate doesn't depend on the ones who wish you ill.

They have not changed my mind.

Their petty schemes will come to nothing.

It's my house.

Your support is all I have, Madame.

And it will not falter.

But I suggest you appear less troubled.

I appreciate your allegiance and loyalty.

But hide them a little.

That's probably why they resent you.

Do as they ask,

let them believe you serve them well.

I've thought it over...

and decided to marry the Comte.

Decided, Madame?

Come in Dorante...

Come in.

Write the letter I'll dictate.

Everything you need is on the table.

To whom, Madame?

To the Comte. He was distraught when he left.

I will delight him with this letter you are about to write on my behalf.

Aren't you at the table?

What's the matter?

Yes, Madame.

Are you ready?

I can't find paper, Madame.

Can't you? Right in front of you.

Of course, Madame.

Write:

"Hurry here, Monsieur...

"your marriage is certain."

Have you written it?

Sorry?

Aren't you listening?

"Your marriage is certain,

"hurry here, Monsieur, your marriage is certain.

"Madame has asked me to write you...

"and looks forward to telling you in person.

"Please do not attribute this decision...

"to Madame's concern...

"over an unsubstantiated lawsuits doubtful outcome."

Well...

Well what?

Are you unwell?

But...

I told you you'd win,

Madame.

There's nothing doubtful.

Never mind.

Finish.

I'm not feeling well, Madame.

Why! So suddenly!

Fold the letter and address it to Monsieur le Comte Dorimont.

Ask Dubois to take it to him.

You have offered, on various occasions,

to marry me off, Madame.

You have offered, on various occasions,

to marry me off, Madame.

Until now,

I have been disinclined to accept your kind offer.

Today, Monsieur seeks my hand.

You have offered, on various occasions,

to marry me off, Madame.

Until now,

I have been disinclined to accept your kind offer.

Now, Monsieur seeks my hand.

He has turned down a much wealthier suitor

for my sake.

At least that's what I've been led to believe.

So, Monsieur, tell Madame.

If she grants me to you,

I'll gladly grant myself to you too.

I'm delighted with what she has said.

You have made a very wise choice.

Madame, it is not her I fancy.

You don't fancy her?

She says you love her.

Monsieur Remy fabricated that misunderstanding

without consulting me.

I hadn't the heart to deny it for fear she might turn against me.

I have no heart to give. I've lost mine forever.

You're wrong. You should've set Marton straight.

But she might have stood in my way.

My indifference spoke for itself.

Why, in your situation,

would you choose my house over any another?

Would you choose my house over any another?

I find more kindness in yours, Madame.

There's something I don't understand in all this.

How often do you see this person you love?

Not as often as I'd like, Madame.

Yet seeing her all day every day would not be enough.

Why don't you marry her?

She loves you, I presume?

Alas, Madame,

she has no clue I worship her.

I only ask because I'm puzzled.

She's unaware you love her, and you surrender fortune for her sake?

Beyond belief.

How can so much love go unspoken?

We seek love, I believe.

It's natural and pardonable.

Madame! Love? Me? No!

Her situation is beyond my reach.

It is out of respect I must be silent.

At least I'll die without upsetting her.

I can't imagine a woman worthy of such astonishing passion.

I just can't.

So she is beyond compare?

Beautiful beyond compare.

Beautiful and...

kind-hearted beyond compare.

Your behaviour does not stand to reason.

What do you expect from your love

for someone who knows nothing about it?

It's so curious.

The bliss of beholding her,

the rare occasions I'm with her.

It's all I ask, Madame.

With her?

Have you forgotten you're here?

I...

I meant with her portrait.

When I can't see her.

With her portrait!

You've had her portrait painted?

No, I painted it myself.

I would have gone without it sooner than ask someone else to paint it.

Show me that portrait.

This one made its way into my hands.

Who's that?

It's Marton!

- She saw you. - No, Madame; I believe not.

I'm telling you she saw you. Go!

I can't bear the sight of you.

Has Dorante declared himself? Must I speak to him?

No, not a word.

And nothing he did suggested your story is true.

Stay out of this.

- Ah! Dubois. - Get out.

- I have no idea what to make of it. - Be quiet, she's right there.

- You'll ruin everything. - Talk to me.

I'm not listening.

Prepare paper. The words will come.

Dubois, the man must go.

Simple. I've told Madame he is unversed in business.

- You said that, Dubois. - Said what? My memory fails me.

That the secretary dared behold Madame.

I said so?

Ah, yes,

there was something amiss in his gaze.

Don't despair.

I know Arlequin has a letter.

We'll learn more.

A letter.

We must overlook nothing.

She's stunned. The time is right.

Put the letter in the envelope.

Our last conversation was so harrowing.

I believe this adventure warrants a little inconvenience.

You know what will happen.

She'll make up her mind...

and send me away.

It's too late for that. Her resolve is wilting.

She must marry us.

She's embarrassed Marton saw me at her feet.

Embarrassed. She has so much more coming.

And Araminte said she couldn't bear the sight of me.

Naturally.

You've taken her affection, her heart,

she's bound to baulk.

Anyway, stop musing.

The letter! Go!

Give me the letter.

I'm sending someone there and can have it delivered.

You are utterly disagreeable, Mademoiselle.

Give me it!

Yes, most begrudgingly.

The friend I serve has asked me to deliver this letter to this street.

I was looking for it on the map.

Well, our dear agent!

This encumbering young secretary

is your nephew, I hear.

Yes, Madame.

We'd be most obliged if you'd rid us of him.

- He's not yours to be rid of. - No.

But it's my patience he's stretching.

And the Comte's, who is to marry my daughter.

Indulging you is not part of the deal.

Your tone is supercilious, Monsieur Remy.

Your compliments aren't helping, Madame Argante.

Come now, Monsieur. I believe you're wrong.

Monsieur le Comte, you have no business here.

I haven't the honour of your acquaintance;

we have nothing to do with each other.

Either way, Madame Argante's approval is essential.

She's no stranger in this house.

Your Dorante is impertinent.

A word that means nothing from your lips.

My lips!

Monsieur le Comte, would you kindly seal his lips?

Seal them?

I've been unsealing them for 50 years, Madame Argante!

Muttering baloney for 50 years, Monsieur Remy.

What is it?

It sounds as if you're arguing.

It's Dorante.

Have you any complaints?

Not that I know of.

He's an excellent man.

You mother insists I should relieve you of him.

I want no part in your tantrum, Monsieur.

As for Dorante, all I'll say is I shall keep him.

You say you shall but you shan't!

I assure you I shall.

Keep a secretary who worships you?

And why must my secretary despise me?

When I say he worships you,

I mean he loves you.

He's in love with you,

yearns for you,

you're the secret object of his affection.

The secret object of his affection.

Oh, Dorante!

Very secret, I daresay!

I never imagined I could be so perilous!

While you're at it,

why don't you tell me everyone else here feels the same?

Perhaps they love me too,

who knows?

Let's be serious now.

The others don't paint portraits of you.

The others don't gawk at your portraits.

The others don't have pining eyes or fawning gazes.

Mother, you'd be the first to mock me

if I took anything you say seriously.

It would be childish to dismiss him on such feeble grounds.

So seeing me is loving me?

What shall I do?

Monsieur Remy!

You see me often enough; so you must love me too!

But Madame, were I my nephew's age

I would not do better than they say he has.

What shall I do?

I suppose I'll have to get used to it.

You say he has pining eyes?

I hadn't noticed. Nor shall I scold him for them.

It would be odd to scold him for having fine features.

I'm like anyone else:

I quite like handsome people.

Forgive me Madame for interrupting,

but I have reason to believe my services no longer please you.

In these circumstances I can only ask you what fate awaits me.

What fate! A secretary's fate.

How cute!

And why can't he have a fate?

Allow me to speak.

What circumstances, Monsieur? And what makes you so anxious?

You know perfectly well, Madame.

You have sent for someone to take my place.

That someone is misinformed.

I did not send for him.

But Marton has told me I'll be gone within the hour.

Well Marton speaks nonsense.

Come on, Dorante,

ease up.

Were you the least fit man for the job I'd keep you.

Now I owe it to myself.

I am appalled by the way I've been treated

and will send the other man away at once.

Will those who brought him without asking please take him

and never mention him again.

Not so quickly, Madame!

I have a letter of recommendation for him,

written by Monsieur Dorante himself.

"I beg you, my dear friend,

"to call at 9 tomorrow morning.

"I have so much to tell you.

"I will soon have to leave the house and the lady I've told you about.

"She can no longer close her eyes to my star-crossed,

"incurable passion for her."

Passion!

Did you hear, daughter mine?

"A courier unexpectedly showed up here

"bringing me the box of the portrait I painted of her.

"I was out so he gave it to a maid.

"I fear all will be revealed,

"the pain of being sent away,

"of leaving the company of the woman whom I adore."

Whom I adore.

Ah! Whom I adore!

"She'll despise me.

"Not for my paltry wealth

"- she is incapable of disdaining me for that -

"but for I'm worth so little next to her...

"I have decided to come with you."

Bon voyage, suitor!

Setting sail, for this?

Well, daughter mine, is it clear now?

It appears perfectly clear to me.

So? He's in love.

He's not the first fine person love befalls.

Leave now.

Well, Madame,

I hear you're rid of him at last.

He can do as he wishes now.

Everyone has witnessed his folly and you have nothing to fear:

he says nothing.

I've just seen him, more dead than alive,

heading through the gallery back home.

Sighing in a way you'd find amusing.

I pitied him, though.

He looked so defeated,

pale and sad I thought he might be ill.

Someone should see to him.

Has someone followed him?

Didn't you help him? Must we leave that man to die?

It's over now.

I'm only here to warn you he might ask to speak to you.

I advise you not to. It's not worth your trouble.

Don't interfere. It's my problem.

You owe him nothing.

He says so in his letter.

I advised Mademoiselle Marton to take it from Arlequin.

I thought it could be useful.

I think I had an excellent idea, didn't I, Madame?

What?

So I should thank you for that scene?

Well, yes, Madame.

I never want to see you again.

But Madame, I thought I'd done well.

You wretch! You should have obeyed me!

You hurled me at the modification I wanted to avoid!

You spread all those rumours about him!

You didn't tell me he loved me

because you're loyal to me!

You told me because you enjoy causing pain!

I cared little about knowing.

I would never have known.

I pity him for having anything to do with you!

You've murdered him and betrayed me!

I cared little about knowing.

I would never have known.

Would you like me to leave today, Madame?

Suit yourself.

All this has saddened me so.

Oh, stop right there, please.

I'm despairing.

About leaving? Well stay, Mademoiselle,

stay, I consent.

But you were saying?

You've been ever so kind to me.

How can I stay now you mistrust me,

now I've lost your trust?

Trust you with what?

Secrets I should make up just to confide in you?

But you're sending me away, Madame.

What have I done to be so disgraced?

It's in your imagination. You resigned, I agreed.

Madame,

why did you allow me to upset you?

I unwittingly harassed

the world's loveliest man,

a man who loves you more than anyone has loved before.

Alas!

He's above suspicion.

He's told me everything.

I was his enemy, but not anymore.

He had never seen me.

Monsieur Remy misled me,

not Dorante.

I'm delighted!

Madame!

Why were you so cruel?

Allow me to love a man not meant for me?

A man who is worthy only of you?

And who is now in as much pain as I?

Did you love him, Marton?

Never mind.

Your friendship is all I need to be content.

- And it's all yours! - I'm so relieved!

Go now. I'll make sure you forget your sorrow.

Monsieur Dorante wishes to talk with you about some papers of yours

he has seen here.

He can come.

He dares not.

Where is he?

Downstairs. Shall I take you?

Leave me.

Dorante!

There's no need to talk about the papers.

I trust you.

I have no complaints about that.

Madame, I have something else to tell you.

One of your farm tenants came earlier.

One of my tenants.

Yes, that's possible.

Yes, Madame, he did.

I don't doubt it.

I have some money...

to give you.

Oh, money!

We'll see.

When you please, Madame.

Yes... when I please...

you'll bring it.

I've forgotten my line.

Perhaps I can bring it this evening...

or tomorrow?

Tomorrow?

How can I keep you here until tomorrow?

I won't see you for the rest of my life

and will have only this day

to treasure.

I can't, Dorante.

We need to part ways.

They know you love me.

And they might believe I'm not upset.

Alas, Madame! I'll be so despondent.

Come on, Dorante, aren't we all.

I've lost everything.

I will no longer see you.

It's penance enough.

May I keep your portrait?

Give you my portrait? And in doing so admit I love you?

Love me, Madame!

Who could ever imagine that?

And yet I do.

I'm lost!

I'm blissful,

undeserving but blissful, Madame.

Oh, Dorante, temper your bliss.

Because you will take it away, Madame.

You will take it away but you must know.

Know what? What do you mean?

A lot has happened

but only two things are true:

my love for you, which is boundless, and the portrait I painted.

Everything else was a crafty servant's doing.

A servant who knew of my love,

pitied me,

and lured me here with the hope of beholding you.

He made me consent to his scheme.

He wanted to show me off.

That is what my love won't allow me to hide.

If anyone else had told me, I'd surely hate you.

But you've told me yourself,

this very minute. That makes all the difference.

I find your honesty wonderful.

You are the worthiest man on earth.

And, since your love is true,

nothing you have done to win my heart is reprehensible.

A lover's allowed to use any devices he can to be loved in return.

And all must be forgiven when he is.

See ya!