All language subtitles for Criterion B. Pascal, EN

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Thank you.

A fine wine!

But yesterday's was drier.

The one the day before
was even better.

Time flies!

The carriage is coming!

At last.

Before giving you
the keys to this house,

it is my duty, sir,
to verify who has sent you.

Sir, here is the royal decree
assigning me this mandate.

"By God's grace and will,
Louis, king of France and Navarre

hereby commands Etienne Pascal

to confer himself to Normandy

in the quality of Royal Intendant
of tallage and taxation

and furthermore,
delegates to him

all power and authority
he deems necessary

to restore order

in our parishes in Normandy

left in disarray and abandon

by the negligence
of our parliament in Rouen.

Signed at the Louvre on September 1 5,
in the year of our Lord 1 639,

by the Grace of God
and his Holy Virgin Mother,

King Louis."

The house is yours,
and I have the honor, Royal Intendant,

to give you the keys.

Your chambers are upstairs, sir.

All seemed calm
on the road to Rouen.

Because we've imprisoned
all the rebels.

Now no one will
refuse to pay taxes.

This is your office,
Royal Intendant.

I see.

We've much work before sending
a report to Chancellor S�guier.

Place the trunk over there.

That's fine. Thank you.

Where are the bedrooms?

Follow me, please.

Go open the window.

This room has no shutters.

The finest room in the house.

I'll show you the others.

"Moses was tending his flock
on the mountain of God

and the Lord appeared to him as a flame
of fire from the midst of a bush.

He saw the bush was burning with fire,
but the bush was not consumed.

Then Moses said,

'I will see this great sight,

why the bush is not burnt."'

You sent for me, Father?

I did. My secretary...

was corrupted
by a merchant of Rouen.

I fired him.

The tax register of Rouville parish
must be brought up to date

and I need your help.

"Morneboeuf, miller on the land
of the viscount of Rouen:

2,265 bushels of flour

and a house near the village
on the road to Rouen.

Four sols per bushel of flour,

two ecus for the house,

and the obligation
to buy 36 pounds of salt a year

at the price fixed
by the Lisieux tax office.

Did not take part in the revolt."

Write:

Tallage will increase
by one-fifteenth on the flour,

and by two-twelfths on the house.

The salt tax will remain the same.

Calculate the total.

But he didn't take part
in the revolt!

Let the matter lie.
Calculate.

For the coming year, Morneboeuf's
tallage is 43 ecus and two sols.

Quickly calculated.

Are you sure you're not mistaken?

Yes, and I could be quicker.

Be careful.

What's this, Father?

- What?
- This book.

Oh, that.
Father Mersenne sent it.

He thought it'd interest me.

Read the title.

Rough Draft of Attaining the Outcome
of Intersecting a Cone with a Plane.

It's by Mr. Desargues,

a Lyonnais geometrician,

a work so obscure that scholars
call it the "Lesson on Darkness."

May I read it, Father?

You may,
but you won't understand it.

Let's get back to work.

"Falaise, sharecropper on the land
of the viscount of Rouen.

Four cows and a calf under his care,
15 acres of pasture.

Obligation to buy salt each year

at the price fixed
by the Lisieux tax office."

Why is the water carrier here?
Is the well dry?

No, but this morning I saw a toad

and feared some evil spell.

This is good water
from the Bruel spring.

- Did you follow the ritual?
- With two sticks, I made a cross.

Marie, have you seen Mr. Blaise?

He retired to his room
and asked not to be disturbed.

- What about the mare?
- In the stable and restless.

I think she'll give birth tonight.

Inform me,
no matter the hour.

All the mare needs
is peace and quiet.

The stable boys
will take care of the rest.

Please leave.

I invite all of you to drink
to this happy event with my wine.

It's from the Seine Valley.

Good night.

Still working?

She bore us a little mule.

You should go see it
instead of tiring yourself.

Your calculations will never rival
the beauty of God's creatures.

Aren't these also part of creation?

It's already daylight.

What are you doing?

I've gotten to the bottom
of Mr. Desargues's work.

You know I disapprove.

You should take better care of yourself.
Do you think it's good for your health

to work all night?

I thought you'd be pleased.

You know that, like you,
I enjoy geometric calculations,

but you have too much zeal,

and curiosity,

and you're too good at it.

Don't let your successes infect you
with delusions of grandeur.

Father, I know a man is truly great
when he knows he is nothing.

Hold fast to that idea
and you will prosper.

However, I'll take your work

to familiarize myself with it

so that we may
discuss it together.

But from now on,

try to control
your thirst for knowledge

for it may lead you into temptation.

Do you know the Minim convent in Paris?

Deliver this letter and this treatise
to Father Mersenne.

Take this for your journey.

Take my best horse

and gain time
by cutting across the fields.

Another thing:
Tell no one of your trip,

especially Blaise.

Godspeed.

I've just received,
from Etienne Pascal,

the Royal Intendant
of the Rouen province,

a treatise by his son Blaise,
age 1 7.

It is such a brilliant work

that I intend to publish it.

It's the solution

to the Rough Draft of Attaining the Outcome
of Intersecting a Cone with a Plane,

the solution to the great Desargues's
"Lesson on Darkness."

You wish to see me?

Yes, Royal Intendant.

It's about my injunction
to pay tallage.

Which parish do you belong to?

Rouville, Royal Intendant.

Moulin�, master tanner.

You owe in excess of 53 ecus
to the treasury,

and your payment is
more than two months late.

Do not force me
to confiscate your property.

Sadly, your collectors
will find almost nothing.

I'm ruined.

Ruined?

How can this be?

The townspeople say
my maid is a witch.

Because of this,
no one will buy my tanned hides.

I'm ruined.

Is it a well-founded accusation?

I'm afraid so.

It's due to the evil spell
cast on my son.

Have you informed the authorities?

Naturally.

The woman has been arrested,

but there are so many witch trials
in our city

that she will not be tried
for several months.

I'm ruined, Royal Intendant,
and I can't pay you...

- unless...
- I'm listening.

Unless she's speedily
brought to trial

and I'm quickly released
from this curse.

It's the only way
to make my clients return.

I understand, sir.

I'll see what I can do.

Thank you.

Father is going to Rouen.

- Another trial?
- For witchcraft.

They are trying Mr. Moulin�'s maid.

After bewitching his son,
they say she bewitched his shop.

Mr. Moulin� can't sell a single hide.

The devil can't enter a man's body
unless he's been invoked.

On the contrary, he can,
if the spell has sufficient power.

It's quite possible that
Mr. Moulin�'s maid invoked the devil

to ruin her master.

She had good reason to hate him,
he always treated her harshly.

Doubtlessly,
but it is an abominable crime

to call upon the powers
of hell for revenge.

One needs proof that a Christian woman
would commit such idolatry.

Her master's business
is ruined, isn't it?

Due to people's credulity, perhaps.

I believe in hell's power,

but there are also illnesses that madden
the mind and corrupt the senses.

I believe Satan roams the world

trying to possess the souls of every weak,
defenseless person he meets.

The devil uses the melancholic
humor to torment men.

But the melancholic humor alone,
without Satan's help,

is capable of corrupting the soul.

In the merciless struggle against evil,
our vigilance must never wane.

Send in the accused.

Let us invoke our Lord.

May he be our witness

and grant his merciful grace.

Veni, cre�tor Spiritus,

mentes tuorum visita,

imple sup�rna gr�tia,

qu� tu cre�sti p�ctora.

Amen

Amen.

All auditors and witnesses being present,
court is now in session.

Accused, please rise.

Do you acknowledge
that you are Michelle Martin,

heretofore allegedly employed
as a maid by Mr. Moulin�,

in his house, located
in the parish of Rouville?

Yes.

Criminal Lieutenant,
state your case.

After much effort, we attained
a confession from Michelle Martin,

accused by us of the crime
of divine high treason,

of witchcraft
and abominable contracts with hell.

From the devil, the accused obtained

power of sickness and death over others,

and in order to harm her master,
Mr. Moulin�,

she cast an evil spell
on his youngest son.

After being bewitched,

this child threw extremely violent fits

each time he saw his parents
near each other.

Fearing a curse
and suspecting the accused,

Mr. Moulin�, using all his wiles,

convinced her that he'd keep it a secret
if she told him the truth.

The accused promised to tell all,

on condition that she wouldn't
be reported and her life be spared.

At this point, the accused asked
Rose Planquier to give testimony

attesting that she'd seen
a fly exiting her mouth.

Thus, she admitted

that she was possessed by the devil,

but denied signing a pact with him.

It was Astarotte.

Wait.

Accused, tell us what happened.

I told my master

the curse had to be transferred.

Someone had to die for the child.

Man or beast?

Beast.

It was transferred to a cat
and the child was saved.

Enough. This establishes proof
of a pact with the devil.

Let us now hear Dr. Colar's testimony.

After shaving the entire body
of the accused,

we searched her flesh,

with no tool but our eyes,

for the devil's mark.

But our scrupulous examination

yielded no sign of diabolical interference.

You then sought the devil's mark

by pricking all parts
of the body with a needle?

Yes, we did.

- Not neglecting old scars?
- No, sir.

What did you find?

On the left hip of the accused

was a spot lacking sensitivity,

an infallible sign
of a pact with the devil.

In this precise spot,

without spilling a drop of blood,

the needle penetrated so deeply

that we were unable to extract it.

The diabolical pact
is thus proven.

Michelle Martin,
would you now repeat

what was recorded
in your deposition?

The devil transported me
to a faraway mountaintop,

before an altar
draped with a black cloth.

Were you alone?

Alone with him.

What did he order you to do?

To make the sign of the cross
with my left hand.

What else?

He made me renounce
the baptism I'd received,

as well as God,

the Virgin Mary,

the saints of heaven,

the church,

and my family.

Fire!

Only fire can purify me.

Take me to the stake!
I want to be condemned!

Quiet.

We alone can decide
your punishment.

The devil didn't want me to confess.

I resisted ordinary torture.

I suffered,
he wouldn't allow me to speak.

Then, under extraordinary torture,

he became afraid,

and when they broke my legs,

he left me and I confessed.

I confess to everything.

I feared God.

I used to scrupulously obey
his teachings,

but the devil possessed me.

I was innocent,

but I rejoiced
at the darkest crimes

and the vilest blasphemies.

I took part in witches' Sabbaths.

The devil transported me

with dizzying speed
to the heart of a haunted forest.

Where did the devil take you from?

The house.

You set out on this diabolic journey
from the house,

passing through the walls?
- Yes.

She lies! Only God's power
is capable of such things.

The moonlight was bright.

And you followed him?

Yes, I followed him.

So, you followed him willingly.
How? Through the door?

We started that awful journey
from the courtyard.

But how did the devil get in?

- I don't know.
- You do know!

He slipped under the door.

Or through the window, perhaps?

Under the door.

Was the window closed?

It was open.

It was summer and it was hot,
I already told you.

Then why should the devil
slip under the door?

I don't know.

You do!
You were expecting him!

I was unhappy, miserable.

You retract your confession?

No.

I confess to everything.

Yes, he came in
through the window.

Which you'd left open?

Yes, I'd left it open.

Tell the whole truth.

It will benefit your soul.

No!

My poor daughter!

Do not attempt to pervert
the course of justice with your tears!

Never shall this court
be guilty of complicity with Satan.

Excellent.
I will now allow the judges,

before I question
the witnesses here present,

to consult the meticulously transcribed
confession of the accused.

The auditors may proceed.

Unbelievable! For the judges,
salvation can only found at the stake!

It's probable. The devil cannot
possess a soul that's left the body.

May the Lord deliver us

and never allow us
to invoke his enemy's name.

We'd never invoke him.

No one knows
what they might do tomorrow.

On finding ourselves in peril,
as if abandoned by God,

anything is possible.

You were barely a year old

when you were cursed
by a horrible witch

who believed it was my fault
she'd been unfairly sentenced at a trial.

To avoid seeing you die of convulsions,
I gave her money.

Perhaps she invoked the devil,
but you were saved.

I confess these things confuse me.

Yes, I know.

Please calculate it, Blaise.

The total is 1 5 ecus and three sols.

Good. We'll continue tomorrow.

Let's go.

Jacqueline.

Put that down, and come with us
to see the cabinet maker.

I'm sure you'll enjoy it.

Your brother wishes to show us
a machine he invented.

Father, is it really necessary?

This machine is capable
of doing all kinds of calculations

without paper or pen.

You know very well
that such things don't interest me.

Why not?

Father, didn't you urge me
to distrust anything

that might distract
my thoughts from religion?

You're excused, my daughter,

but there is no impiety
in Blaise's machine.

God doesn't condemn those
who seek to understand Nature's marvels

in order to share them
with mankind.

The only danger is to fall prey
to the demon of vanity

who urges us to believe
that the marvels are our own

and those who discover them,
their creators.

Good-bye, my daughter.

- Good day.
- Good day, gentlemen.

I invented it for you, Father.

It will spare you much work
in accounting.

These gears seem slightly loose.

Take it apart again
and readjust them.

First I must finish the bed and chairs
your daughter ordered.

What should we do?
- My sister doesn't matter.

She can wait a few months more.

She has no immediate need
for her furniture,

but this machine is eager
to be introduced,

to present this marvelous
new method of calculation

and attain its glory.

Spare no effort to make it
beautiful on the outside, too.

Yes, sir.

It must satisfy the eyes

as well as the mind.

Don't disappoint us.
- I won't, sir.

Good. Let's go.

We'll be back to see this marvel.

But beware, my son,

of excessive pride.

Good-bye, gentlemen.

Chancellor S�guier, time to rise.

"O righteous Father,

the world hath not known thee:

but I have known thee,

and these have known
that thou hast sent me.

And I have declared unto them
thy name, and will declare it:

that the love
wherewith thou hast loved me

may be in them, and I in them."

Please see whether Father Mersenne

and the other academics have arrived.

Yes, Chancellor, Father Mersenne
and the others are here.

Show them in.

We have the honor,
Chancellor S�guier,

of presenting you with a machine

that, according to the inventor,

owes its existence
to the need to fulfill your orders.

What kind of machine?
And who is its inventor?

This machine makes it possible
to perform any kind of calculation:

addition, subtraction, multiplication,

division of whole numbers
or with decimals,

all without pens or tokens,

or any danger of error.

It was designed
by Mr. Pascal, the son.

The same who wrote
the treatise on conic sections,

whose father serves the Crown
under my orders in Normandy?

The very same.

Five times eight equals 40.

Equals 40.

It seems a remarkable invention,

especially when presented
by such knowledgeable men.

I will not fail
to inform His Majesty,

who, as you know, is the most
capable craftsman in the realm.

He is so skilled that Mr. Pomerol,

the greatest gunsmith of France,
on retiring,

considered no one but the King

worthy of inheriting
the secrets of his craft.

I've heard from Cardinal Richelieu

that this Pascal has a sister
with a gift for poetry and acting.

The girl must've been
no more than 1 2 or 1 3

when, under the patronage
of the Duchess of Guillaume,

she enchanted Cardinal Richelieu

with one of those
theatrical performances

to which he has always
been so partial.

That was how she obtained
a pardon for her father

who had lost our favor.

The Pascal family will surely
make quite a name for itself.

I'm glad to see you, Jacques.

We weren't expecting you
so late in the season.

We had to leave Clermont
in great haste

before plague broke out
and roads were blocked.

- The plague?
- On the road to Clermont

we saw many pyres
where corpses were being burnt.

You've nothing to fear,
we kept our distance.

Gilberte!

Take her to her room immediately.

Where's Father?

He was asked to intervene
in a duel between two gentlemen.

As he hurried out, he slipped.

He insisted on being treated
by the Duchamp brothers,

charitable noble veterans,
experts at setting broken bones.

They're upstairs.

The borage, please.

Water!

He's always working.

He hardly eats,
so he's too weak to stand.

Miss Jacqueline told us
not to leave Mr. Pascal alone.

Does he often have such fits?

Yes, it's a kind of paralysis
from the waist down.

His feet are as cold as ice.

It's because he's too zealous
in his studies.

It's gone to his brain.

Though we are experts
at fixing broken bodies,

a science learned
on the battlefield,

we know nothing
about such humors.

With us, we carry
a devotional book,

the letters of Saint-Cyran,
a French disciple of Jansen.

We strongly recommend

keeping it
within the patient's reach.

Beyond that,

we can only pray for his recovery.

Thank you.

Seeing you die to return to God

filled me with joy.

You were certain
of my salvation?

Yes, certain.

If your illness
had been the devil's work,

the proximity of Saint-Cyran's letters

would have increased
your fever and agitation.

On the contrary,
they calmed you.

If you rejoice
to see a just man die,

why do you care for his body
when he is ill?

Because we must care for it,

as we would
the cherished possession of another.

On this earth we are mere actors,

and we play the role
the master has chosen for us.

If it be brief,
so shall we play it.

If long, we'll play it long.

Reading the letters of Saint-Cyran
you left me, I understood, like him,

that we are in the hands of God

who blinds some, enlightens others
and moves where he will.

The doctrinaire will never meet him,

for they believe they alone
can interpret the scriptures,

as if truth were an object
to be possessed

instead of a living thing recognized
and cultivated by the mind and heart.

In this world, I'm wary of
all the assurances of doctrine.

For instance, it's reasonable to firmly
believe that nature abhors a vacuum.

Undoubtedly.

And yet, I firmly believe

that the vacuum exists,
even if our minds reject this fact.

I can show you proof
that the heart cannot refute.

People imagine Plato and Aristotle

only in the heavy garb
of pedants.

They were good men,

and, like all of us,

they laughed with their friends.

When they amused themselves
creating their laws and policies,

it was play for them.

In their lives, this was
the least philosophical and serious part.

What was most philosophical
was living: simply, peacefully.

I'm astounded by such thoughts

after seeing the jumble of things
you distract yourself with.

You've barely recovered
from a serious illness,

and yet,
you're incapable of resting.

You've barely begun to walk
and you worry about science!

Thank you.
It's nothing.

You see,

my activity distracts me
from my ailments,

it keeps me
from concentrating on my pain,

or in other words, on myself.

I'm cold.

Could you stoke the fire, please?

Furthermore, I'm convinced
the idea of the vacuum

has much greater interest

than to resolve
a petty scientific dispute.

Why don't I show you?

Would you fetch that syringe?

- This one?
- Yes.

Every opening in these bellows

has been carefully blocked.

When I try to open them,

I feel a strong resistance,

as if the sides of the bellows

were glued to each other.

Try it.

- You're right.
- Good.

Now observe this syringe.

I push the plunger
all the way in

and immerse it in water.

With one finger, I block
the submerged opening.

Now I pull back the plunger,

and my finger feels a strong pull,
it's painful.

If I continue to pull the plunger,

my finger no longer feels a pull,

even though the empty space
inside the syringe has increased.

If I remove my finger,

the water, against its nature,
which is to flow downward,

instead rushes upward
into the syringe, quite forcefully.

From this I conclude
that the vacuum does exist.

The weight of the air makes
the water go up into the syringe

where a vacuum
has been created.

Very pretty.

But I have an objection.

The vacuum of which you speak
is neither substance nor spirit.

God cannot have created it.

How, therefore, can it exist?

And you?

How can you decide
what is of God and what is not?

Isn't God outside our reach,

concealed by the mediocrity
of our understanding?

Do you really believe
that the ability to recognize

and to measure the specific
weight of air at various altitudes,

which I will endeavor to do,

makes us less wretched
in the eyes of God?

No.

Science has two extremes
that touch each other:

The first is pure natural ignorance.

The other

is where great souls arrive

after traversing
all that can be learned by man,

to find that they know nothing.

Those in the middle,
who've overcome natural ignorance

but not yet attained the other,

"the ignorance of the wise"

have a smattering of science
and act knowing.

They are the ones who spread confusion
and misjudge everything.

I know you aren't like that.

If you'd stay longer,

I could show you
other experiments I'm planning.

To measure
atmospheric pressure,

that is,
the weight of the air around us,

we'll use this mercury-filled tube.

Observe:

one end of the tube
is hermetically sealed,

and the other,
the upper one, is open.

I shall suck out the air
from the upper opening

and inverting the tube,
immerse it in this tank,

removing my finger
from the submerged opening.

Now we can see the mercury move,

leaving an empty space
in the upper portion of the tube.

The height of the mercury

indicates the exact pressure of the air,

that is, its weight.

Now, gentlemen,

I pass the floor to my son.

I can't get up, Father.

Jacques, bring the brandy.

What are you doing?

Soaking my boots in brandy
does more than soften them,

it also confers a surprising
ability to conserve heat.

My legs are stiff because
my blood circulation is poor.

Heat activates my circulation

and makes my legs more limber.

All this would infuriate
the good Dr. Patin.

He maintains that Harvey's theory
on blood circulation

is useless to medicine
and harmful to man.

I, on the other hand,

though the idea is hateful
to many respected doctors,

can't help but be convinced,

for my poor legs force me

to verify its validity often.

The experiment
of the great Torricelli

clearly proves

that the effects falsely attributed
to abhorrence of a vacuum

should instead be attributed
to air pressure.

Since certain people
refuse to accept with reason

what their senses admit,

I've thought up an experiment

to enlighten us once and for all.

Thank you.
After that, I feel much better.

I intend to repeat the basic experiment
of the vacuum

which you've just seen

several times on the same day:

sometimes on the ground,
sometimes on a rooftop.

You'll see that
this experiment is decisive,

because if the mercury rises

higher when on the roof
than on the ground,

it means that the weight of the air

is the sole cause
for the suspension of the mercury,

since it is certain
that there is more air

here on the ground

than on the roof.

And no one,

no one could pretend
that nature abhors a vacuum more

down here on the ground
than up on the roof.

We'll now conduct the experiment
in your presence.

Pierre, up you go.

Half a line.

Half a line!

It's sufficient to confirm my idea.

In any case, I'm convinced
we'd obtain a much greater difference

if instead of the height of a house,

we could use
the height of a mountain.

With your consent, Father,

I'll write to Mr. P�rier and ask him
to repeat the experiment

at the base and summit
of the Puy-de-D�me.

There's no doubt
the results will be striking!

Before that, we should meet
with Father No�l of the Jesuits

to ask his opinion of these matters.

He's a learned man and luckily enough,
he's now visiting Rouen.

I say the space in the tube
which appears empty is a body

for it acts as a body:

it transmits light with reflection

and slows the movement
of other bodies,

as demonstrated by the descent
of the quicksilver.

We'll now examine
the nature of this body.

Let us presuppose that,

just as the blood in our veins
is a mixture of black bile,

yellow bile, phlegm and blood,

where blood, prevailing in quantity,
gives the mixture its name,

similarly, the air we breathe
is a mixture of water, earth and air,

where air, prevailing in quantity,
gives the mixture its name.

Now, in the same way
this mixture in our veins

is normal in the human body,

the mixture which composes air

is normal in the world.

Therefore, just as the elements
which compose blood

can separate inside the veins,

the elements of the air

can separate in the world.

I will further add
that the air inside the tube,

being separated from water and earth

is finer and more rarified
than when combined with the others

and can penetrate the pores
of certain types of matter.

Let us presuppose a known truth:

glass has a large quantity of pores.

It is true that these pores
are so small

that air as a mixture
cannot pass through them.

But air, separated
from water and earth,

could penetrate glass.

Like a wire, if too thick
to pass through a small hole,

when made thinner,
is able to do so.

As for the remaining objection, to wit:

light cannot sustain itself
in a vacuum,

this is conclusive proof
against the existence of the vacuum,

since light is a luminary movement of rays
composed of lucid bodies

which fill transparent bodies

yet this illumination may be found

in the part of the tube
free of quicksilver.

Therefore, this gap must be a body,
since it is transparent.

So you see, gentlemen,
the vacuum does not exist.

Revered Father,

a universal rule exists,

applicable to all subjects
which require to be proven.

This is the rule:

one must never pronounce judgment

to negate or affirm a proposition

without fulfilling one
of the following two conditions:

Either the proposition
seems so absolutely evident

that the mind has no way
to doubt its veracity --

we call this
a postulate or axiom --

I'll give you an example.

If we add the same number
to two equal numbers,

both sums will be equal.

Or the second condition,

that the proposition
is deduced by infallible logic

based on other
axioms or postulates.

Anything that satisfies one
of these two conditions is true.

Anything that doesn't satisfy
either condition remains doubtful.

Such things are called,
according to their merit,

"visions," "whims,"
sometimes "fantasies,"

sometimes "ideas,"

or at the very least, "thoughts."

You maintain, Revered Father,

that the empty space
in the tube is a body.

You conclude this
because it acts as a body:

It transmits light

and slows the movement
of other bodies.

Revered Father, if tested
by the method I just spoke of,

we shall find
that before we can judge,

it is necessary to agree
on a definition of vacuum,

of movement, and of light.

Let us consider
one of these three terms:

Light. We know nothing about it.

Its nature may forever
remain unknown to us.

Therefore, I beg you
not to draw conclusions

about the nature
of a thing unknown to us.

Let us now presuppose,
you continue,

that, as blood is a mixture
of different liquids,

air must also be a mixture
of different substances.

You presuppose that rarified air
can penetrate the pores of glass.

But, Revered Father,

at a time when eminent minds
discuss such topics with great care,

I can't believe that you'd draw
a conclusion based on a substance

whose existence
is a mere supposition!

In any case, if one
presupposes the opposite,

the conclusion, similarly,
could only be to the contrary.

Now, if you were asked
to show us this substance,

you'd say it's invisible.

If you were asked to let us hear it,
you'd say it's inaudible,

and so forth,
for the other senses.

You might say,
"It was merely a hypothesis."

But to form
a clear hypothesis,

one must be certain
of the causes and the effects.

For example,

if I found a hot stone,

how would you consider
the following logic?

"If we presuppose that this stone
was placed in a large fire

and was recently extracted,

it should still be hot.

As the stone is, in fact, hot,

I conclude that
it had been in a large fire."

You'd tell me
my reasoning is faulty,

since fire
is not the only cause of heat.

Heat can come from the sun
or from friction.

Finally, Father,

you define light in these terms:

"Light is a luminary movement
composed of lucid bodies,"

"lucid" here meaning "luminous."

I confess I have difficulty

accepting
a definition that says:

"Light is a luminary movement
of luminous bodies."

Well-spoken, my son.

These gentlemen
will reply another day.

You can be sure of it.

What are you doing?

Why didn't you send
your valet instead?

You tire yourself needlessly.

I'll explain.

It is my weakness to want to keep
myself in a state of poverty

and I believe that actions
speak louder than words.

You seem to have forgotten
about poverty of spirit.

Nothing in your actions or words

leads us to believe
you cultivate that state.

Another of your contradictions,
perhaps?

Yes. You're right
to judge me severely

and you never miss
a chance to do so.

However, listen:

The vacuum, the void,
is the face of the infinite.

If I seek the void in nature,

it's to discover its mirror
in the heart of man.

When I feel the void
consume my vanity,

when my thoughts are freed
from vain ideas and desires,

God, whom I know only through reason,
and therefore do not know --

Can you know or love someone
through reason alone?

Perhaps God will deign to consider
the place I've made for him inside me.

A place, not of the finite
and miserable dimensions of my reason,

but of the infinite dimensions
of the void.

Let God show himself
and I shall know him.

There are other paths to God.

Wait for him in silence
and he will come.

Not the God of philosophers,
but the living Christ!

Read the Gospels.

They teach
all you need know of the world.

Yes, but nature bears
the mark of God,

and I believe
charity can only be true

if it is enlightened
by understanding and knowledge,

and man's only true knowledge

is to acknowledge that
there is an infinity of things

beyond his grasp.

Our knowledge is nothing
if we do not realize this.

- What are you doing here?
- Removing all the water

so Mr. Blaise's soul
won't drown.

- Is it that bad?
- He hardly moved all night.

Take that away
and try to be less superstitious.

I feel very weak.

- Does your head hurt?
- No, my mind is clear.

Here, take your emetic.

This relapse was caused
by yesterday's argument.

You shouldn't get so worked up.

Perhaps I'd have remained calm
if you'd have been there.

Blaise, I've something
important to tell you.

This morning I saw
the parish priest of Rouville,

who's just returned from the monastery
of Port Royal in Paris.

Port Royal?

I want you
to be the first to know.

I've decided to renounce the world

and to retire to the convent
of Port Royal.

The letters of Saint-Cyran,

and my conversations
with the priest of Rouville,

whom I trust implicitly,

lead me to believe
that life at Port Royal

matches my ideal of Christian life,
an ideal I hold

since God
first touched my heart.

I know.

I know that you too
have great esteem

and admiration for these people.

But tell me,
what do you think of my decision?

All I can say is

I approve of your choice.

No. I've thought it through
and I cannot consent.

Your duty is to be here,
in this house, with your father,

as long as he lives.

You know that since my accident
I feel quite weak.

I assure you that
you won't have long to wait.

And you, my son,
you could've waited for my death

to plant the seed of this project
in your sister's too fertile imagination.

You should've dampened
her enthusiasm.

- But Father --
- I will hear no more.

It is necessary for you
to strengthen your new resolution

before you retire to Port Royal,

so that there remains
not the slightest doubt

concerning your vocation.

From now on, you shall no longer
speak to the priest of Rouville

nor to either of the Duchamp brothers

if you happen
to encounter them in private.

In this manner, we'll see
if you persist in your choice

and if it truly comes from God.

Blaise, you'll go to Paris
to look after my affairs.

I wish everything to be in order,

so that there will be no confusion
after my death.

In Paris, you'll have the good fortune
to meet Father Mersenne

and some of our greatest thinkers.

You'll have the opportunity

to discuss your ideas
on science and religion with them.

And now, please leave me.

"But as touching
the resurrection of the dead,

have ye not read that
which was spoken by God, saying,

'I am the God of your father,

the God of Abraham,

the God of Isaac,

and the God of Jacob."'

Sir?

- Are you Mr. Pascal?
- I am. Why?

I've been looking for you for days,

at last I've found you!

Are you the one doing odd experiments
in the bell towers of Notre Dame

with bottles full of water
and mercury?

Yes. Why?

I've been looking for you
all over Paris, sir,

to tell you
that you are reckless!

Yes, sir! Reckless!
And that's not all --

Do you really believe
you're benefiting science

by ignoring the ancients,
refusing them their due respect?

You're mistaken.
I don't ignore them. I honor them.

Do you deny
that you attributed to God

the creation of something
that absolutely cannot exist,

such as the vacuum?

I see you're not even brave enough
to defend your ideas!

The ones you call the ancients
were men to whom everything was new.

Humanity was in its infancy.

We've added to their knowledge

the discoveries made
over the intervening centuries

so the antiquity you speak of
is to be found living within ourselves!

Oh! You're also presumptuous!

You dare use
the authority of the ancients

to affirm with impunity

the opposite of
what's been taught for centuries

by men of science
around the world.

Unbelievable!

Use your reason, if you have any.

Do we blame the ancients
for their concept of the Milky Way?

They attributed its luminosity to
a greater density in that part of the sky.

But aren't we to blame

if we continue to uphold their belief

now that we've discovered
myriad little stars with the telescope?

On that point, you're right.

But for the rest,

I find you're a bit too young

to presume
to invent a new science.

Rest assured, I'll do no such thing.
I lack the ability.

In my opinion, however,

we should encourage the timid
who dare not invent anything in physics

and confound the reckless
who invent new theologies.

However,
it is a tragedy of our time

that new theological ideas,
unknown in antiquity,

are obstinately supported
and applauded,

whereas new ideas in physics,

though few in number,

are condemned as falsehoods

if they ruffle, even slightly,
accepted beliefs.

How dare you speak of these things,

you, who are so young?

Sir, if our reason leads us
to respect the ancients,

then our reason
must also place a limit!

You're nothing but a heathen!

Sense should be beaten
into you with a stick!

Excuse me, I'm expected
at the convent of the Minims.

What arrogance!

This side is full,
please sit over there.

Thank you.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

- Who's speaking?
- The great Descartes.

There's room over there.

"But like one walking alone
and in the dark,

I resolved to proceed so slowly

and with such circumspection,

that if I did not advance far,

I would at least
guard against falling.

I then resolved
to accept nothing as true

unless it appeared
quite evidently to be so.

As soon as my age permitted me to pass
from under the control of my instructors,

I entirely abandoned
the study of letters,

and resolved no longer
to seek any other science

than the knowledge of myself,
or of the great book of the world.

In the course of my travels,
it occurred to me

that I should find more truth
in the reasonings of each individual

in reference to his own affairs

than in those conducted
by a man of letters in his study.

I also learned not to believe
too firmly in anything

and during nine years,

I did nothing but roam
from one place to another,

gradually rooting out from my mind

all the errors
which had crept into it.

It was then that I began to discover
the foundations of an admirable science

and learned to conduct
my thoughts in such order

that, by commencing with objects
the simplest and easiest to know,

I might ascend, step by step,
to the knowledge of the more complex.

As model,

I took the long chains
of simple and easy reasonings

which geometers
are accustomed to use.

I also learned to correct

the errors caused by the senses.

Sight, for example,

wrongly tells us that the earth,

the moon and the sun
are larger than the stars.

In the few books
I've published since then,

I've attempted to be one of
the more accessible writers,

writing in French, not in Latin,

using this language
so that peasants

might be better judges
of the truth than philosophers.

You know that I'm rarely in France
and still less in Paris,

but I see so many people mistaken

in their opinions and calculations,

it seems to be an universal malady.

Men seem to care
only for their own gain.

But I see this
is not entirely true,

for you are here.

You, my friends.

You, my dear Mersenne,

whose friendship comforts me

and shows me I'm not entirely
a stranger in my own country."

This young man listened to you
with the greatest interest.

- Who is he?
- The son of Etienne Pascal.

He dazzles us
with his ideas and experiments,

especially some very interesting ones
on the vacuum.

I found your words very disturbing, sir,

because I realize I've taken
a different path from yours

and I find that quite alarming.

I've heard that you gave
a brilliant speech

in the presence of
Father No�l of the Jesuits.

That's true, but since then,

I've changed my mind
about certain things.

And also about myself?

Yes, I must confess.

In that case,
please enlighten me.

You said, sir,

that you learned
to conduct your thoughts in order,

commencing with objects
the simplest and easiest to know,

and ascending, step by step,
to more complex knowledge.

However, to build
your beautiful edifice,

you need a foundation
whose solidity is beyond doubt,

but the only foundation
you propose

is the discerning power
of your reason

by which you mean,
all human reason.

But reason, to me,

seems unsure
of its place in the world.

It exists, of course,
but in an uneasy position

between the infinitely small
and the infinitely large,

and as you yourself described it,

disappointed by inconstant appearances
and uncertain of its limitations.

Moreover, it is not through reason,
but the heart

that we know space
is three-dimensional.

It isn't a chain of reasonings

but rather sudden intuition,
the breakthrough

that allows us to reach
the few certainties we share.

The dimensions of the space
around us cannot be measured.

They are not quantifiable,
they are unlimited, infinite.

They simply exist because they are.

Yet listening to you,

one could believe that step by step,
by increasing their knowledge,

men will one day
be able to understand

all the workings of world,

like a spectator
backstage in a theater

might discover the means
by which the hero rises into the air.

But the infinite universe we live in

will never cease to be infinite,

while our knowledge will never cease
to be finite, limited,

in spite of all
the new things we learn.

The surveyor's scale
you've spoken of

can, it's true, measure the distance
from one point to another,

but is incapable of evaluating
the quality of the route.

The geometric method gains
firm understanding of a few principles

but is incapable of understanding

the diversity all around us.

Can it distinguish between
different tones of voice,

manners of walking, of coughing,
of blowing one's nose, of sneezing?

Can it distinguish grapes from other fruits,
and among grapes, muscat grapes?

You commence with the easiest objects
to arrive at the more complex.

Is it not better

to commence with the complex
and work down to the simple?

We tread with uncertainty,

for we are caught between an infinity
and an abyss of quantity,

an infinity and an abyss of movements,
an infinity and an abyss of time

from which we can learn
to truly know ourselves

and enrich ourselves with thoughts
worth more than the whole of geometry.

You speak of a method,

but to truly understand infinity

requires an infinity of methods

and only God can know them,
for only he is infinite.

Your objections, sir,
are quite brilliant.

I've already had such thoughts,
but I brushed them aside.

Perhaps true finesse

lies in refusing
to make use of finesse.

I will not forget your speech.

- He is a great man.
- Undoubtedly.

But tell me,
how is your father?

I've had no news from him
since I left Rouen.

When I left, he was ill,
but full of admirable patience.

"Now that you've been informed,

dear sister and brother-in-law,

of our father's death,

before passing this letter
over to Jacqueline,

I assure you his death
was so simple and desirable

that no Christian
could but rejoice."

We mustn't be distressed
as if we were pagans without hope,

for we do not consider the body
a foul carcass

because we know that saints' bodies,
in this base world,

are the abode of the Holy Spirit

with whom they'll be reunited
on the day of resurrection.

That is why we revere
the holy relics of the dead,

and why, at one time,
the host was placed in their mouths.

Knowing these bodies
were the temple of the Holy Spirit,

in that time of great faith,

we thought them worthy
of receiving the holy sacrament.

Every Christian who dies is destined
for eternal life and resurrection.

Blaise, you know I still intend

to withdraw from the world
and to enter Port Royal.

You'd leave me alone and ill?

You don't wish me to leave?

You've changed your mind?

When our father was alive,
you approved and supported my decision.

Now I understand

his reluctance
to be separated from you.

Can't you wait a little longer?

No, it's impossible.

I thought that charity would induce you
to stay with me at least a year

before entering the convent.

It'd give me time
to prepare myself.

In any case, I'd like
to withdraw for at least a year,

and donate my dowry
to Port Royal.

I'll give you an annuity,
which is your due,

but I won't put your wealth
at your disposal.

You know very well
it's not a large gift

and even though the convent
of Port Royal asks for nothing,

you know they accept all donations
and use them for good works.

If that's all it is,
I will lend them all I can.

But I don't have the right
to give you your dowry...

for just a simple retreat.

And so,

please sign this paper
for your safekeeping,

and I'll do anything I can
to make you happy.

I need your consent

and I ask it
with all the affection in my soul

not because it's needed
to accomplish my project,

but because it'd make it
more serene and joyous for me

because without your support

I'd be performing the most
beautiful act of my life

with a mixture of extreme joy
and extreme pain,

with an anguish unworthy
of such an act of grace.

I'll let you finish the letter.

Without a dowry,
the nuns will never accept her,

so she won't have long to wait.

What is it, Jacques?
- A note for you, sir,

from the Duke of Roannez.

Did you hear about Madame Duplessy?

She went to Port Royal and pledged
to donate a house to the poor.

"Very well," answered Mr. Barcos,

"but we believe a nun
should donate all she owns."

I'm sure you'd enjoy hearing
about my, quite opposite, experience.

My sister Jacqueline
wanted to enter the convent,

and I thought that Mother Ang�lique,
the mother superior at Port Royal,

wouldn't admit her without a dowry.

Instead, the opposite occurred.

Mother Ang�lique told my sister,
"Why, child, do you complain?

Confess your pride:
you wished to enter as a rich woman.

You aren't humble enough
to enter as a pauper.

But you'll enter as a pauper, for I won't
accept anything from your family."

This only reinforced
my great esteem for Port Royal.

This roast with rose essence
is delicious.

It's difficult to come by.

Bertier, in rue Saint Jacques, carries it,

and in addition to the rose essences
I use with roasts,

he also sells amber and musk extracts,
excellent with boiled meats.

Thanks to your knowledge,
my troubles are over. A most precious tip!

You are one of France's
greatest men of science,

have you no wish to marry?

I confess, ma'am,
I've not given it much thought.

This insulting tyrant

Takes every last ecu

From all you villagers

He taxes beyond due

Sound the alarm

The people of France still sing
songs of the Fronde,

but in Paris,
everything is back to normal.

Less than a year ago
it was impossible to find anyone

worth spending an evening with.

Five years of civil war has taught
our young king many lessons.

True, for he chose
to reinstate Cardinal Mazarin,

the only French statesman capable
of following Cardinal Richelieu's policies.

A king isn't a king if he doesn't
consider his ministers as enemies.

Will you grace us
with your company more often

now that your sister
has entered the convent?

Your doctors' advice
for you to divert yourself

seems the best remedy
for your melancholic humors.

The ailments
which afflicted me for years

have completely disappeared.

How is your sister Gilberte?

Fine. She lives in Clermont,
where her husband is posted.

My friend, I have known you
only a short while,

but apart from our friendship,
I'm alone in the world.

My father is dead
and my sister Jacqueline is a nun.

Have you ever considered
retiring from the world?

I'm only a simple believer.

I think I should abide
where God's will has placed me.

- Are you tired?
- Yes.

Not in body, but in soul.

I've been told you've begun
frequenting high society again.

Yes, I often do
and one would think I enjoy it.

It's not done of free will,

for the doctors advised me
to seek distractions.

Everyone insists,

saying health is a gift from God
which it's our duty to preserve.

Those who tell you such things
are untrustworthy.

They confuse illness with evil

and use this excuse to induce you
to frequent the salons.

Are you happy with those people?

I've never felt so disgusted.

I feel the need to leave them.

Why don't you?

Because I wouldn't know where to go.

I'm no longer attracted by society,

but at the same time,
I feel almost abandoned by God

and no longer feel attracted to him.

I reach toward him
with all my might,

but it is my reason
that leads me to see him

rather than an impulse from God,

so I'm uncertain

and no longer understand anything.

We expect great signs,

and perhaps that is how God
shows himself to mediocre spirits,

but for purer spirits,
God employs small signs.

Have faith.

You win.

Christians profess a religion
for which they cannot give a reason

and even declare that any attempt
to do so would be foolishness.

Certainly, it is in lacking proofs
that they are not lacking in sense.

What do you mean?

Since God is infinitely incomprehensible,

then understanding him by means
of reason is a contradiction in terms.

It is not because our reason is limited

that we should have
a limited idea of God.

God is, or he is not.

Reason can decide nothing here

except to admit there is an infinity
of things beyond understanding.

You're not a skeptic,

because skeptics know
man has a deep need for certitude,

and a man like you
wouldn't be satisfied with less.

Nor dogmatic,

because we all know

that life is uncertain
and in constant flux.

Where does that leave us?

God is, or he is not.
To which side shall you incline?

Since this game could be played
forever without outcome,

you must wager.

It is not optional.
You are embarked.

But neither to the reason
nor to the heart

is it satisfying to wager
on what is finite.

Why?

Because if you wager
on what is finite and limited

and you win, you gain nothing,

and if you lose, you lose all.

If instead you wager on the infinite,

if you win, you gain all,

and if you lose, you lose nothing.

But aren't we still uncertain?

Yes, of course, but you hope.

And instead of counting
only on your own strength

and risking despair,

you place your hope in
the reality of a superior existence.

And if I lose?

You'll have fought
the good fight

and will have become
a charitable and sincere friend.

And, in the meantime,
God might reveal himself to you.

"The year of grace 1 654.

Monday, November 23,

feast of Saint Clement,
pope and martyr,

and others in the martyrology.

The eve of Saint Chrysogonus martyr
and others.

From about half-past 1 0:00
in the evening

until about half-past midnight.

Fire.

God of Abraham,

God of Isaac,
God of Jacob.

Not of philosophers
and intellectuals.

Certitude,

certitude...

feeling,

joy, peace.

God of Jesus Christ.

Deum meum et Deum vestrum.

Your God will be my God.

Forgetfulness of the world
and of everything

except God.

He can only be found
by the ways taught in the Gospels.

Greatness of the human soul.

O just Father,

the world has not known you,
but I have known you.

Joy,

joy, joy, tears of joy.

I have cut myself off from him.

Dereliquerunt me fontem aquae vivae.

'My God wilt thou forsake me?'

Let me not be cut off
from him for ever!

This is eternal life,
that they know you

the one true God,

and Jesus Christ
whom you have sent.

Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ.

I have cut myself off from him.

I have run away from him,

renounced him,

crucified him.

Let me never be cut off from him.

He can only be kept by the ways
taught in the Gospel.

Sweet and total renunciation.

Total submission to Jesus Christ

and my director.

Everlasting joy

in return for one day's effort on earth."

How do you feel, my dear child?

I am afraid, Mother.

I am afraid of seeing
many of the people

whom I considered
as steadfast pillars of truth,

crumble in the face of --

in the face of our persecution.

I cannot bear it.

All the same, you must obey,

and submit.

But the truth, Mother?

The truth will only
be found by submitting,

by renouncing all
the convictions we hold most dear

if the superior authorities
demand it of you.

Is not the highest authority

that of God?

Has he not called upon us
to suffer for the truth,

is he not our only leader,

the only one to whom
we must answer?

Is not our greatest joy

to struggle and suffer for justice?

"Thus, the Jesuits

expect us to either embrace
their errors

or to swear that
we embrace them.

They would push us
into either error or perjury

corrupting either reason
or the heart."

Dear friend.

I regret disturbing your rest,

but I wished to see you.

I was thinking
of my sister Jacqueline.

Today, Friday,

marks three weeks
since her death

and it fills me with extreme pain
and with extreme joy.

Extreme pain

because, apart from you
and my sister Gilberte,

she was closest to my heart.

Extreme joy

because she chose
to let herself die

rather than sign the condemnation

of what made her choose
to forsake the world:

the holy, rigorous doctrine
of Port Royal.

You too have fought
with all your strength.

But the grand vicars,
in a second attack,

demanded that
the formulary be signed.

At court and in the city, our revered
fathers parade their satisfaction

at the outcome of this drama

because they are without doubt.

"Port Royal will never sign," they say

"and the King's archers
will bring them to order."

God contradicts man
until man understands

that man is
an incomprehensible monster.

He'll contradict them.

What is that strange thing?

A few truths
about the Christian religion

sewn together.

If God allows,
during my illness,

I'll make them into a treatise.

In order to do so,
accept my hospitality.

You'll be more comfortable.

Please, don't deny me the joy
of performing a good deed.

I heard you have a terrible toothache.

I do.

I don't understand you.

I distracted myself from the pain

by returning to my old work
on the properties of the cycloid.

It was so fascinating
that it kept all other thoughts at bay.

I think I've found

both the method and the result.

I know little of such things,

but enough to realize
that you have succeeded

where great scientists
like Galilei and Roberval had failed.

Observe and you will easily understand.

If I take this wheel

and move it across the table,

its axis traces a straight line,

parallel to the table.

Conversely,

any point situated
on the outside edge of the wheel --

this nail, for instance --

traces in space

a curve,
which is a geometric figure.

Now, what matters
in mathematics or in geometry

is to discover the relationship
of equality between two terms.

In this case,

we seek what is equal
to the geometric figure

traced in space by this point
as the wheel turns.

Though difficult,
it's possible to draw this figure.

But it's easier to calculate it
using an algebraic formula I've devised,

which manifests
the harmony that reigns in all things.

This discovery must be
made known far and wide

to prove that you know more
than the skeptics

in matters of geometry,

and if you follow a faith,
it's not out of ignorance.

You're probably right.

We shall publish
the calculation of the cycloid.

I shall use a pseudonym,

Amos Dettonville, for example.

Then I'll organize a contest

for the world's
most esteemed geometers

on the various problems
of the cycloid.

I will deposit 60 ecus
with Mr. Carcavi,

and this prize will go to whomever
is capable of solving the problem.

If after three months
no one has succeeded,

I'll reveal the exact solution
in a treatise.

You're an unpredictable man,
you'll never cease to amaze me.

I'd like to tell you
about a new idea of mine.

It may seem strange,
but it'd be useful to the Parisians,

and allow me to earn
some money for the poor.

It's a project for
a paid transport service

that I conceived while observing
carriages in the street.

I've drawn up a route through Paris

and done all the calculations.

Read this when you have a chance

and tell me what you think.

Look.

Here's one of the carriages
for the transport service.

The king has given us
the authorization to run it

and charge five pennies per person

and this

is for a route

from Vincennes to the Louvre

passing through Cit� and Ch�telet.

The king forbids soldiers,
pages, servants and artisans

from using the service.

I think these public carriages
will be useful,

especially on this route,

heavily frequented by magistrates.

We'll also be able to use
the crest and colors of city of Paris.

Life is so unpredictable.

The king and the court,
so harsh with the leaders of Port Royal,

condemning the Jansenists
as rebels of the Fronde,

wounded me,

yes, and broke the heart
of my sister Jacqueline

who died from the pain,

and yet,

they favor my project
of public carriages.

The Sorbonne scholars have asked
the royal authority to intervene.

They insist on charging as a crime

Mr. Arnauld's polemic
against the hierarchy.

But hasn't Rome already
condemned Arnauld, his friends,

and his doctrine, Jansenism?

The pope is busy
so he left it up to the Jesuits.

You know, everyone's still talking
about the letters in defense of Arnauld

that circulated in Paris

addressed to the Jesuit father
in charge of the province.

People say

they're a masterpiece of theology,

but were only signed
with a mysterious acronym:

"F.F.

B.P.A.

S.O.E.P."

Former friend,

Blaise Pascal, Auvergnois,

son of Etienne Pascal.

Why won't you say you wrote them?

Take this and you'll feel better.

From Dr. Gu�nault,

for Mr. Blaise Pascal.

"Two newborn puppies,
half a pound of live worms.

Cook and macerate
to prepare a dense ointment

to be applied to the legs
of the patient."

Good, I have everything I need.

Please return
in three or four hours.

In your condition!

Why didn't you wait for me?

Why should I?

Am I unworthy of manual labor?

I return from the pharmacy

where Mr. Justeau
prepared this ointment.

I must apply it.

I'm very upset, sir.

Why?

I must leave you.

Why? Tell me.

My son is ill and Dr. Gu�nault
fears it might be smallpox.

I must bring him to the hospital
and stay to care for him.

You will not leave this house.

But, sir, you risk contagion,

and those who visit you.

Stay here and keep the house
after my death.

Meanwhile, I'll go
to my sister Gilberte's house.

Sir, don't speak of such things.

As usual, your door
is always open,

you could be visited
by just anybody.

You are not "just anybody."

I bring news of
our transport enterprise.

Your carriages, dear Blaise,
are deemed so convenient

that the auditors,
the head accountants,

the counselors of Ch�telet,
and the counselors of the court

have no hesitation about using them
to go from the Louvre to Ch�telet.

The Duke of Anghien used them,
and maybe, one day, so will the king.

What's wrong?

Nothing.
It's nothing.

His terrible pain has returned.

My master has decided to retire
to the home of his sister.

I'll explain later.

What were you saying
about these carriages,

which are so
remarkably profitable?

I'll add that your paupers
in Blois will bless you.

I'd rather they prayed for me.

The notaries are here.

Good evening.

Follow me.

Brother, the notaries are here.

Good.

Shall I read the text?

Yes.

"Mr. Blaise Pascal, gentleman,

normally residing in Paris
near Porte Saint-Michel,

currently bedridden by illness

in a room on the second floor
of a house in Paris,

between Saint-Marcel
and Saint-Victor,

in the parish
of Saint-Etienne-du-Mont,

in full mental capacity...

The doctors are here.

but believing he is near death,

bequeaths in his testament

the sum of 1 ,200 pounds
to Fran�ois Delpeau..."

How is our patient?

This morning he felt dizzy

with a horrible headache.

He hasn't eaten in six days.

Don't be alarmed,
it's merely the vapors of his humors.

As soon as the notaries finish,
we'll examine him.

Thank you.

"... name Mr. P�rier executor.

Noted by said notary in said bedroom
and signed by the testator

in presence of the undersigned notaries,

the third day of the month
of August of the year 1 662."

In addition, I want to be buried

in the church of Saint-Etienne-du-Mont,

in the city of Paris.

Is that all, sir?

This way, please.

Being our student, take his pulse

so we may judge for ourselves
your new science.

- Good.
- Good?

Excellent.

Even, uneven, that is,
evanescent and vermiform.

There's no need
to examine the patient further.

What do you mean?
Is he well or is he ill?

- I think he's well.
- Is he suffering?

The pulse is the bursar of nature,

the preserver of the spirits
and the vital faculties.

This modern science!

Don't listen to him.
As I told you,

it's simply an attack
of melancholic humors.

Give him nothing but skim milk

and have him take
the waters I prescribed.

He's in no danger.

At least you recognize
he's in no danger.

I beg you,

bring me to the hospice,

I wish to die there.

There's no need,
you heard the doctors.

They ignore my illness.

The Lord gave me
a blessed family,

but it's time for me to leave it.

To die in the hospice,
among the poor,

would be like dying
in the arms of Christ.

Gilberte,

my sister,
I wish to be given the viaticum.

But the viaticum is for the dying

and you are in no danger.

But I want it.

Father, I want the viaticum.

You're not dying.

You're merely very ill,

as you have been before.

You mustn't despair.

I do not despair.

I ask for neither health
nor sickness,

neither life nor death,

but for God to dispose
of my life and my death

for his glory,
for my salvation,

for the church and the saints
to whom I hope to belong.

Suffering is a gift of God,

for, tormented by illness,

deprived of our possessions
and our pleasures,

freed of the passions
which afflict us all our lives,

we welcome death with joy.

I want the viaticum.

No, I want the viaticum.

The Lord will not abandon you.

Are you ready for your last rites?

Yes.

Peace to this house.

And to all who dwell therein.

Let us pray.

Hear us, holy Lord,
almighty Father, eternal God,

and be pleased to send
thy holy angel from heaven

to guard, cherish, protect, visit

and defend all those
who dwell in this house

through Christ our Lord.

Amen.

May almighty God have mercy
upon you, forgive you your sins

and bring you to everlasting life.

Amen.

May you be pardoned
and absolved of all sins

by almighty God.

Amen.

Receive, brother, the viaticum of
the body of our Lord, Jesus Christ.

May he keep you
from the malignant foe

and bring you to life everlasting.

Amen.

The Lord be with you.

And with thy spirit.

Let us pray.

O holy Lord, Father almighty
and eternal God,

we pray thee in faith,
that our brother may benefit

from the holy body of our Lord
Jesus Christ, thy son,

which he receives as an everlasting
remedy for body and soul

from he who lives and reigns
with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God,

forever and ever.

Amen.

May God never abandon me.

END

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