All language subtitles for Les perles de la couronne (The Pearls of the Crown) (1937).ENG

THE PEARLS OF THE CROWN

With the obligatory details
out of the way, here are...

THE PEARLS OF THE CROWN

SEE AND HEAR...

THE AMAZING STORY
OF SEVEN FINE PEARLS

RESEARCHED, WRITTEN,
AND OFTEN JUST DREAMED UP...

BY SACHA GUITRY

Oh, this is amazing,

and unbelievable,
like all true stories.

What is it?

I just came across
a fabulous unknown story

that would make
a fascinating book, play or film.

Almost out of the
Thousand and One Nights.

Let me make one note
and I'm all yours.

Your Holiness will be pleased

to learn the exact provenance

of the four magnificent pearls
that adorn the crown of England.

Do you know how
the crown of England was made?

That's one thing I don't know.

Good.

I'll take great pleasure
in telling you the exact origins

of the four pearls
that adorn the crown's arches.

Settle back,
close your eyes, listen,

and imagine the pictures
to illustrate my true story.

One evening in February 1518...

One evening in February 1518,

King Fran? ois I of France

was telling Lorenzo de' Medici
at Fontainebleau...

I say your melancholy has
but one cause: solitude.

You revel in it, but it's harmful
to your feeble health.

You've given me marvelous gifts:
vases from Orbino,

and glass and lace from Venice.

Allow me today to repay you.

Accept from my hands
a treasure comparable

to the splendors
you've given me.

Twenty years old, the most
beautiful eyes, a delicate soul,

a charming heart,
and adorable hands.

Don't turn around.
Here she is.

Her name is
Madeleine de la Tour d'Auvergne.

What's more,
she's my cousin.

What do you think?

Doesn't she need
a Florentine setting?

What say you?

She's beautiful, cousin.

Their union gave birth,
ten months later in Florence,

to Caterina de' Medici.

That's right, my dear.

Yes, Your Holiness.

It's a little girl, Duchess.

The same day in Fontainebleau,
Henri, dauphin of France, was born.

It's a boy!

Those two infants
would one day wed.

Caterina's birth took the life
of Madeleine de la Tour d'Auvergne,

closing her charming eyes
forever.

I hail and welcome you,
young prince of France.

As the king of France greeted
his precious offspring,

Caterina met with a far cooler
reception from her father.

But we mustn't blame him,

for Lorenzo was at death's door

when his daughter was
presented to him.

Deceased even before
he could learn

of his wife's death,

he was no doubt pleasantly
surprised to encounter her

upon arriving in the Beyond.

Thus orphaned at birth,

Caterina was given to her uncle,
Pope Clement Vll,

who ordered her raised
in a convent.

Marvelous creature!

Divine splendor!

An angel sent from heaven
to us here on earth.

See that she's raised in a convent.

If God in his divine grace
is willing,

she'll spend
her entire life there.

Three renowned artists were then
painting masterpieces

and immortalizing
two powerful monarchs.

Jean Clouet began
his portrait of Fran? ois I

as Hans Holbein was finishing his
of Henry Vlll of England.

In Venice,

Titian was working
on another portrait of Fran? ois I,

which we find to be
a better likeness,

though he painted
this magnificent work

under surprising conditions.

Clouet, do you know how
my cousin Henry VIII's legs look?

No, Your Majesty.

He claims
they're seemlier than mine,

which I doubt,
though he is a handsome man.

This seemingly minor issue
is behind a rivalry

that's obstructed
a difficult but desirable alliance

between England and France.

Are you working, Clouet?
- Yes, sire.

You seem to be motionless

at your easel.

Motionless, sire?

If only Your Majesty were more so,

I would be much less so.

- Are you jealous of Titian?
- Titian?

- He's painting me in Venice.
- Venice?

I sent a medallion of myself

and my richest apparel
with the cardinal of Lorraine,

who is to tell him
the exact tint of my eyes.

Is that you, my son?
Come here.

Come sit on my lap.

How old are you now?

I'll soon be eight, Father.

Eight already!

It's high time you wed.

If you married
Henry Vlll's daughter,

it might soften
those Angles'hard angles.

But a more appealing plan
comes to mind.

I'll give you in marriage
to Clement VII's niece,

Caterina de' Medici.
You were born the same day.

She's being raised in a convent,
and I'm sure she has

her lovely mother's
sweet disposition.

Clouet, kindly do
a quick sketch of the dauphin

to send to the pope

to show what a fine husband
he'd be for Caterina.

Take my seat, young man.

Show him your profile.

Don't move,
and don't make faces.

Clouet, do a miniature,
medallion-size.

I did a poor job on his chin.
You have greater talent.

Make it less receding...

as you see fit.

"If Your Holiness will allow me,

on behalf of the dauphin of France,
I ask you..."

"...for Caterina's hand
in marriage.

I see in their union

a guarantee of lasting peace
and happiness.

Your most pious son,
Fran? ois."

Thank You, Almighty,

for the joy you've brought me.

Quick, get me two men
who are trustworthy,

discreet and brave.

My nephew Hippolytus,

and that friend of his,

the young Spanelli.

Yes, Your Holiness.

The dauphin is charming.

What a faultless profile!

Such an exquisitely shaped chin!

You are both to leave at once.

Go to the convent at Le Murate

and bring Caterina
back to me here.

A letter from His Holiness
for Mother Superior.

Mother!

A letter from His Holiness!

Quick, let them in.

Caterina!

Farewell, Caterina.

This is...

absolutely true.

Come.

Caterina de' Medici,

you may one day

be a queen.

I can say no more.

But as of today

I take you under my protection.

I want you to become

the most educated
and cultured princess in Europe.

Teach her French,

and, above all, English.

Because to rule France well,

she must know English well.

Not thow ast.

No, I'll say thow!

No, I'll say thow!

No one can give me orders!

It's vexing to be
the father of such a fool.

I appreciate a rebellious spirit

and a prince who can't bear
another's authority.

But to pronounce English
in your own way

is a sign of stupidity.
Get to work!

And as for you... -

What's your name, miss?

Anne de Boleyn, Your Majesty.

You're very pretty.

You would rebel before such eyes?

You would argue
with a face like that?

You should blush with shame.

Out, young man!

You are not my son.

Go pray to Our Lord

and seek his pardon

before mine.

Go!

I'd like to atone
for his faults and foolishness.

How do you pronounce that word?

How?

Very good.

De Boleyn's not very English.

But I am indeed
the Duke of Norfolk's granddaughter.

You've been here at court for?

Almost three months.

I'm a maid of honor to the queen.

I too would like
to learn English.

Since I need an instructor,

will you be the one?

Alas, I'm leaving Paris tomorrow.

- Leaving?
- For England.

The king's asked me to be
a maid of honor to the queen.

I should have been there
two weeks ago.

So you're leaving now.

What a pity.

Rest your chin on your hand.

Come forward. More.

Further.

Part your lips.

Close your eyes.

Did you like that?

Did you hate it?

What if I say I liked it?

I'd say I have others
even more tender.

And if I didn't like it?

As punishment
for forcing it on you,

I'd ask you to give it back.

Caterina? Good day.

- Caterina, what's my name?
- Hippolytus.

I hereby declare you a cardinal.

Go!

A cardinal?

Yes, at 18 years old.

He thought that would keep
Caterina out of danger?

No, but it would at least
keep them from marrying.

- Did he make the other one a bishop?
- No.

To get rid of him, he said...

I need you

for an extremely
important mission.

If you succeed,

your every desire

will be granted...

and more.

And I think

I know what they are.

Here are two fine pearls.

I want five others

exactly identical in weight,

shape and color.

Search the world over,
if need be.

Bring them to me,
and I guarantee

you'll be the happiest of men.

See that he's given
1,000 gold pieces.

He's to leave at once.

Go now and return quickly.

I give you my blessing.

In giving him those pearls

and sending him off to search
the world for five identical ones,

the pope surely thought
he was rid of Spanelli forever.

Meanwhile, things in England were
about to grow more complicated.

She finally decided to appear.

He scolded her for her delay
for an entire hour,

she who was
to become his mistress,

then his wife,

and soon after, his victim.

Then he interrogated her.
Where had she been?

France.

Doing what?

But upon hearing
she'd been at court,

and that the king had looked
especially kindly upon her,

his own attitude changed.

Attractive and pretty,

this merchant's daughter
seemed worthy of a king.

But a man entered who looked
askance at their long kiss:

Cardinal Wolsey.

Having presented her to his privy
councilor, he took her to the queen.

For it's an odd habit
husbands have

of making their wives evaluate
their mistresses-to-be.

For Henry VIII

to take a mistress is natural.

I'd be in bad standing... -
You're standing badly.

I'd be in bad standing
to criticize.

But asking Rome to annul
his marriage amazes me,

for I was sure he loved her.

What if he marries her?

Then he certainly doesn't love her.

Marrying one's mistress
means getting her out of the way.

It's a way of winning back
one's freedom,

for the mistress's position
thus becomes vacant.

Do you know what
the king of England dares ask?

That I annul his marriage
to the queen

so he can marry
a merchant's daughter

named Anne Boleyn!

This is an outrage!

I'll never annul it, you hear?
Never!

Never!

Here's Montmorency,
his brow dark with worry,

his hands full of bad news.

Not now.
Life's too beautiful today.

Not a word.
I'm sure everything's amiss.

How could it be otherwise?
Impossible.

Madam, is your king a target?

That funereal face
annoys me greatly,

because it's contagious.

Frowns and gloomy looks

are never good omens.

You're sad and prudish.

You always foresee war or famine.

Sire, foresight is a virtue.

Yes, but I fear
it's not very French.

The people are miserable.

Don't tell them that.

You want to make them happy?
- If I can.

Who wouldn't?

My friend, you promise them
happiness here on earth... -

a serious mistake.

The ways of religion

are much wiser than yours.

Instead of offering
happiness in this life,

they prudently promise it
for the next one.

If one spends money freely,
flings it out the window,

it may fall
into the hands of the poor.

Indeed, scandal may shake Britain
like a tree in the wind,

bending it
from right to left and back,

but the more it's blown one way,
the quicker it bends back the other.

But lose its balance? Never!

Never!

But France is not a tree.

Like this ball,
it's light and capricious,

flying from your hand

just when you think
you grasp it firmly.

But fear not
when it hits the ground,

for it always bounces back.

Henry VIII even spoke
of reforming the church.

So loudly did he protest
against the pope's obstinacy that... -

- He became a Protestant.
- Exactly.

See what thwarted love
can lead to?

What about Spanelli?

He'd journeyed all the way
to the Persian Gulf,

where he found
the first of the pearls he sought.

It was in a black diver's mouth,

a pearl amid 32 other
white pearls.

It's exactly like the others.

It's splendid!

But I need three more.

Where will I find them?

Then our traveler
came to a faraway land,

untamed yet refined... - Abyssinia.

No, not this book.

I always confuse them.
Abyssinia.

Its cruel queen claimed to be

a direct descendant
of the queen of Sheba.

Spanelli was struck
by her beauty,

but he was astounded

when he noticed her earrings... -

two magnificent,
pear-shaped pearls.

He couldn't help but react.

Seeing his gesture,

the queen grew worried.

No, I only speak Italian.

What's going on here?

I believe I understand.

You're Italian,
and you speak French.

I'm French,
and I understand English.

He's English,
and he understands Abyssinian.

We'll join forces
to help the queen understand.

Why did he make this gesture?

Because her two eyes
are like stars.

Because he says the lady
has eyes like stars.

Without the presence
of that useless snake,

Spanelli would've been
the happiest of men that day.

At sunrise, the queen
felt a deep gratitude toward him.

She seemed a bit surprised
at his insistence,

but she realized it was best

not to make
an enemy of an Italian.

Holy Virgin,

have pity
on this wandering traveler.

Take pity on this lover
who implores you.

Holy Virgin, my last hope.

Guide my steps and lead me

to the pearl I still need.

- Hippolytus!
- Spanelli!

- How happy I am to see you.
- How was your trip?

Marvelous.
I have the five pearls.

How's Caterina?

- Alas...
- What's happened?

Poor Spanelli.

Cruel disappointment awaited him.

He'd left a child
but returned to find a young girl

whose feelings had matured

just as her features had.
Her choice was made.

They're beautiful.

Thank you.

You've fulfilled to the utmost

the mission I sent you on.

Go now and rest.

Poor Spanelli.

His journey
has made him very weary.

Does Your Holiness
think he needs...

a long rest?

A long rest.

A very long rest.

No, boys aren't as charmingly
precocious as girls.

At 14,
girls are already women

possessed of understanding
and intuition.

You certainly don't look
like one betrothed.

Hold yourself more nobly,
my son.

My dear child...

I'm giving you
the loveliest pearl necklace

in the entire world.

For me?

It's so beautiful!

I want their meeting
at the port in Marseille

to be held in exceptional pomp
and splendor.

Since His Holiness
is escorting Caterina,

I myself will accompany
the dauphin.

Two years later,

those two had a son

who would become
king of France... - Fran? ois II.

The sickly infant had no idea
his wife-to-be had just been born

in Scotland,

and this smiling little girl
couldn't know

that she was Mary Stuart,
who was to become queen of France,

yet that's what happened
six years later.

After repudiating the queen
and dismissing Wolsey,

Henry Vlll wed Anne Boleyn

and immediately
became very enamored

of Jane Seymour.

From that moment on,

Anne Boleyn's days
were numbered.

This royal joke
brought no smile to her lips.

A few years later
the king died,

and soon after, the king of France
delivered his soul to God.

More.

Henri II succeeded his brother,

but it was often Catherine
who fulfilled his royal duties.

Years passed.

Mary Tudor succeeded
her father, Henry Vlll.

Five years later,
Elizabeth succeeded her.

And Pope Clement Vll's
lights slowly dimmed.

But then they beamed again.

But then...

they faded once more...

before brightening again
one last time...

and then going out completely...

and dying.

Paul III succeeded him.

Henry II died suddenly.

Fran? ois II took his place,

and Mary Stuart
became queen of France.

My child...

I want you to have
this necklace of seven pearls

my uncle gave me
on my wedding day.

Henceforth,
I wish the arms of England

emblazoned
with the arms of France.

I shall thus assert

my formal claim
to the crown of England.

That's dangerous!

When Queen Elizabeth
hears of it...

Indeed, on hearing this,
Queen Elizabeth was enraged.

But Fran? ois II
grew weaker by the day,

and his brother's shadow
loomed ever larger.

Catherine would find
consolation in her own way.

Fran? ois II soon died,

and his brother Charles IX
succeeded him.

Mary was in white mourning
for 40 days.

Lord, have pity on me.

The Queen Mother hates me.

Queen Elizabeth wishes me dead.

I'm a widow and an orphan,

and I'm not even 20.

Lord, come to my aid.

Send her away.

I can't bear the sight of her!

Send her away.
She's queen of Scotland.

Let her go home,
back to her throne.

It's dangerous for her.

What do I care?
I want her to be gone.

If she needs money,
give it to her.

A little.

No, don't give her any.

Let her keep
the pearl necklace

she wears.

But Your Majesty,

you gave it to me.

No, my dear,
I placed it in your hands.

Today I'm giving it to you.

Let's not judge an incident
that was so...

deplorable.

Let's simply recognize
that after a hasty trial,

poor Mary Stuart
was sentenced to be beheaded.

I ask for her help
and place my fate in her hands,

and she locks me
in this gloomy castle.

Queen Elizabeth
is too good to me.

I'm afraid.

Let it be known,
recounted, and written down

what the last hours
of my life were like.

Take this.

Please accept this.

Tell them I had
my gloves dyed red

so the blood would not show
on my white hands.

Has the hour come?

Do not cry.

Come.

Don't leave me alone.

Only four pearls out of seven
were recovered from the thieves.

The gang leader
had fled with the other three.

Queen Elizabeth
took the four famous pearls

and hid them in a secret panel
in a small box.

Three hundred years later,

Queen Victoria accidentally
discovered the secret panel

and found the four pearls.

She sent for the royal crown

and had the four pearls set
on the crown's arches,

where all can see them today.

Well, what do you think
of that story?

Fascinating!

I even see myself
in poor Mary Stuart's role.

And I see myself
as Fran? ois I, of course.

We always lend our faces
to the heroes of the story.

And why not?

Listen, I want to know
what happened

to the other three pearls.

- That the thief fled with?
- Of course.

The other three, Your Holiness?

It'd be interesting to know
what became of them.

If Your Holiness insists...

You think I should try?

Of course.
I'm very interested.

I'd love to.

I'm on my way.
I know what I must do.

I'm off. I have an idea.

NOW HERE IS THE TALE
OF THE THREE PEARLS

TAKEN BY THE THIEF
WHO FLED.

Excuse me, Constable.

I'd like to ask you something.

Where is this?

How silly of me! Thank you.

Nice boys.

It's in English, of course.

In this country they have
the deplorable custom

of using a language I don't know.

Nevertheless,

I see a date and some numbers

that look somehow familiar.

Look at that.

- Are you Italian?
- Yes, sir.

Then you speak three languages?

I speak seven, sir.

Congratulations!

You'd like to know
what that says?

Yes, I see a date
and some figures that intrigue me.

It says that at this very table,

in 1587, three thieves

divided up a necklace

of seven magnificent pearls.

"One thief kept three

and divided four
between his two accomplices."

Exactly.

You've done me a great favor.

I'm a very happy man.

Me too.

For the same reason?

I believe so.

I don't think this gentleman
is disappointed either.

Could we all be here
for the same reason?

I suspect so.

Then let's introduce ourselves.

Jean Martin, French author.

Giovanni Riboldi,
chamberlain to the pope.

Are you hunting for the three pearls
missing from the English crown?

Then allow me.

Let's sit here
as those three did in 1587.

That may be,
but I didn't understand him.

But I say fate's brought us together,
so let's not mislead each other.

That's what he just said.

Good. Let's share... -
Please tell him this:

Let's share everything
we discover.

Instead of hunting
for the same pearl, we'll split up.

I suggest we all meet here
in two weeks,

on April 30th, at 3:00,
to see where we stand.

Ask him what he thinks.

I understand French.

Perfect!

- Right here.
- At 3:00.

- Hello.
- Well?

I found one.
No, not really.

But I know
where it was two weeks ago.

But today? Who knows?

It belonged
to a certain Fleury Genneval,

but the sly old fox won't say
what she did with it.

When I think
of all I've done in 12 days.

I traced its entire path
since 1587,

and now it eludes me at the very
last minute... - how irritating!

But surely all isn't lost.

When are you
to see your two colleagues?

In three days, at that tavern
in London I told you about.

I found out a jeweler
has the pearl,

so I visited every jeweler
in Paris, but in vain.

Any word from your mother?
- Good news. She'll be back tonight.

You see?
Bad news travels in pairs.

Oh, sweetheart!

Actually I'm off tomorrow
to Amsterdam to pursue a lead,

then to London on the 29th.

Call me at lunch every day
at the restaurant I always go to.

Oh, I'd give anything
for that pearl!

- If only I could help.
- I'm sure you will.

I swear, if I find it,
I'll make a film about it.

What's that?

Yes, I'm Mr. Martin.

Is that you, darling?
I think I found it.

- What?
- The pearl.

You're crazy!

I'm not.
It's in the morning paper.

It said there's an auction.

Let me find it.

"An auction of jewels belonging
to Madame Fleury Genneval..."

Isn't that the name
you mentioned?

"...including a pear-shaped pearl
weighing 192 grains."

That must be it!

It goes on to say
"...of historical value."

They always say that,
but for once it's true.

Listen, go to that auction
and see who buys it.

Phone me with details
immediately afterward.

I'll grab the next flight.

Of course,
if a foreigner buys it,

I must know where he's headed.

When's the auction?

At 2:00 sharp.

It's now 1:40.

I'm off. Bye, darling.

Bye, sweetheart.

Ladies and gentlemen,
we'll begin the auction.

Payment must be made on the spot
and include 14.5 % of the bid.

We'll begin with item No. 5

in the catalog:

a pear-shaped pearl
weighing 192 grains.

This pearl is unique,
of inestimable value.

Nevertheless, we've estimated it
at 200,000 francs.

We'll begin at 50,000.

50,000 francs.

55,000! 65,000!

It was given to me in 1903
by a grand duke

over supper at Maxim's.

- 100,000 on my right!
- 110,000 in the first row!

I'm sure he'll give me
a magnificent present.

From what he said this morning,

it'll be either a ring
or a bracelet.

I'd prefer cash,
but in the end it's the same thing.

After three months together,

circumstances call him back
to America, forcing us to separate.

But I'm blameless,

meaning
he doesn't know you exist.

So in that case,

I'd say the present will cost...

165,000!

...around 100,000 francs.

And I think I'm worth it.

- Some port?
- Yes, darling.

180,000!

185! 190!

195! 200!

210,000 in the first row!

210,000! Do I hear more?

210,000 going once.

250.

250,000 in the rear!

Going... going...

gone!

Will you be keeping it?

I'll take it with me.

- How will you be paying?
- By check.

- When does the Normandie sail?
- Tomorrow morning.

But he prefers to stay
in Le Havre tonight.

- I'm glad.
- So am I.

Shouldn't I go, all the same?

Stay just 15 minutes more.
It's 2:30.

I love you.

Oh, miserable man!

- He left.
- With my gift.

He took advantage of me,
the bastard!

The ingratitude!

And to top it all,
they expect us to love them.

My God,
how stupid can a man be!

What'll I do with this pearl?

We'll see.

Good news... -
I know who bought it.

A nice gentleman
from the south has it on him.

Doesn't seem to know
what to do with it.

I'll explain why later.

I'm spending the night
in Le Havre.

My room's next to his.

Because he sails
on the Normandie tomorrow.

I couldn't call any earlier!

I haven't left his trail
for a second.

What should I do?

Take the Normandie?
You're joking!

What about you?

That's right.
It calls at Southampton. All right.

Wait, darling.

What if he speaks to me
after running into me everywhere?

You're so silly!

So I'm to speak to him
in adverbs only?

Very well.
See you tomorrow, darling.

Well, I'll be!

Pardon me.

You're a lovely woman.

Careful.
I'm only allowed to use adverbs.

Are you French?

Certainly.

Me too.

Does it show?
- Positively.

I'm from Marseille.

Obviously.

If I woo you, you'll react?

Stoically.

I've seen you eight times
in two days.

Similarly.

You find that normal?

Perfectly.

Going to New York?

What?

Are you going to New York?

Probably.

Are you alone?

Heroically.

You're quite young.

Sufficiently.

A ravishing lady's kiss
would set me back?

Enormously.

And one kiss from you
would set me back?

Inestimably.

How do you live?

Conjugally.

So you're saving
your kisses for?

My lover-ly.

What about your husband?

He is my lover-ly.

- Hello! How are you?
- Fine! You?

Wonderful!

Good to see you again.
Shall we wait for our third thief?

- It's only polite.
- Here he is.

- What?
- He found the first pearl.

- I found the second.
- I found the third.

We did it!

What is it?

I hope they're not all
the same one.

He gave mine to an English girl
for her "favors."

Then we did it!
We found the three pearls!

The thief lost his at gambling,

but he tried to sell mine.

But something stopped him?
What?

- He died first.
- Tell us the story.

- Why me first?
- He and I already know our stories.

Very well. I give in.

- So he tried to sell it?
- But it was too risky in England.

Besides, he felt only a king
could afford such a pearl.

But how was he
to approach a king?

Then he recalled that Henri IV,

your famous ladies' man,

was then in Dieppe,

recruiting all willing men
for his army,

whether from England,
or Switzerland, or anywhere else.

So he crossed the Channel.

And our new recruits?

Sire, 942 volunteers
just arrived from England.

I'll inspect them shortly.

942!

We'll fight tomorrow,
before your very eyes.

- How many men does Mayenne have?
- I don't know.

But an army's valor isn't measured
by the number of its men.

You're beautiful... exquisite...

adorable... charming.

Give me a smile, darling.

Take my hand

and come see the Englishmen
who'll be dead by tomorrow.

Have no fear, my beloved.

- What did that man want?
- I don't know.

His look frightened me.
I'm still trembling.

- He tried to address the king.
- He mustn't do that again.

Hail the victor,

and reward him
with your most ardent kiss.

- A decisive victory?
- Resounding.

Yet my joy is soured by remorse.

I begin to weary
of an enterprise

that leaves
so many dead and wounded.

Poor friend! Come to me!

The man who tried to speak to you.
He's in horrible pain.

He threw himself into my arms.

No, leave him with me.

You may go.

He's looking for something.
What is it?

A pearl?

- He's giving it to you.
- Why?

He wants to speak.

He's dying. Look away.

Poor man. It's all over.

- Maybe he has papers on him.
- I hope so.

No, nothing.

I give this to you.

But never give it away,

and never sell it.

Whatever its origins,
it is now sacred,

for this man
died fighting for us.

Bury him nearby.

On his tombstone,
engrave but these few words:

"An English soldier
who died for France

in the arms of Henri IV."

Now do you see...

why I grow weary of battle?

That's why he was
unable to sell it.

What happened to it?

You can't stop there!

For almost two centuries,
never leaving the court,

it followed an amazing
zigzag course, finally reaching

Madame du Barry.

The king gave it to me
as a New Year's gift.

Henri IV had given it
to his mistress.

Gabrielle died,
bequeathing it to the queen.

Since then it's been passed
from one woman to another,

from the hands of queens
to our own,

a reward sometimes for love,
sometimes for virtue.

Three queens have worn it.
Five mistresses have owned it.

It's lovely.

- Splendid.
- Unique.

- Zamor wants to see it too.
- Whatever for?

- He's so ugly.
- And so dark.

- He's amusing.
- Less than you think.

Sit up pretty.

As a reward,

you may lick my fingertips.

He adores me.

It's true.

I think you're mistaken.

I'd bet my life on it.

So would I.

- You hear that singing?
- It's awful!

The wisest thing is to bury them
at the foot of a tree.

I don't think anyone's seen us.

Come quickly!

Madam Véto had promised me

She'd slit the throats of all Paree

But she failed and caused no fears
Thanks to our cannoneers

Dance the carmagnole
Harken to its sound

Dance the carmagnole
as our guns resound

It's not true!
Someone lied to you!

Why arrest me?
I've done nothing wrong!

It was you, Zamor?

You betrayed me?

You may lick my fingertips.

Did you see Du Barry guillotined?

No, sadly, I wasn't in Paris.

She was beautiful.
What a head!

It was as if they cut off the body,
not the head.

Yes, he's like Puss in Boots.

He's pitiful and laughable
at the same time,

with the oddest look
in his eyes.

Barras...

will you introduce me?
- Yes, at once.

General Bonaparte,
Joséphine de Beauharnais.

Why do you mock me?

- Mock you?
- Cruelly.

From afar,
with your laughter and smiles

and stifled cries
devoid of meaning.

To me you're
the most beautiful,

most alluring woman
here tonight.

I've poured out my soul
to you from afar.

You've read it in my eyes.

Yet you laugh at this general
who's just 27.

You laugh at my hair,
my slight frame,

my miserable uniform.

You should blush with shame.
You're mean...

yet so lovely.

Who's that?

We call her
"Our Lady of Thermidor."

- Meaning?
- Madame Tallien.

Barras's mistress?

If he didn't brag so about it,
I'd be sure.

I don't care about that one,

but speak
to Madame de Beauharnais tonight

and you won't see me
for two weeks.

I adore you.

- Marry her off.
- That's my dream.

For she's an "em-barras-ment"
to this Barras.

Barras.

You allow a lieutenant general
to be dressed like this?

Am I to have but 30 francs
in my pocket?

Beautiful, isn't she?

Who?

Countess de Beauharnais.

- She's charming.
- No, she's beautiful.

You have every reason
to be in love.

Deliver 40,000 francs
to General Bonaparte tomorrow.

- That's too much.
- No, it's fine.

Buy her jewels.
She loves them.

In two days you'll be in command
of the army in Italy.

You'll leave on the 5th.
Marry her on the 4th.

32,000 is very expensive.

Look at it, General.
It's unique.

Know who that is?
Bonaparte.

No! You sure?

Positive.

General, I'll let you have it
for 30,000 francs,

but only because it's you.

- It's 10:00 p.m.
- Yes, it is.

- He's an hour late.
- Yes, he is.

Getting married at this hour!

He leaves tomorrow.
It was a last-minute decision.

Perhaps he forgot.

The mayor's fallen asleep.

No regrets?

No, not yet,

but the future looks dim.

You're wrong.

Why aren't you marrying me?
Meanie!

- Here he is.
- Forgive me.

Come along.

Marry us quickly!

Sorry I'm late.

I had to prepare for my journey.

I adore you.

Napoléon Bonaparte...
- This is it.

...born in Ajaccio
on August 15th, 1767.

1767?
You added two years to your age?

To make you appear
even younger.

Do you take as your husband
General...

I love you.

The visit to Malmaison,

the memory of poor Joséphine,

and the reminders of my youth
had already broken my heart.

I wanted to see
Fontainebleau one last time,

but I shouldn't have done it.

Why didn't they let me die?

The poison I took
was already taking effect.

Deserted, betrayed, vanquished... -

life is horrible!

Her Majesty Queen Hortense.

Why have you come?

After giving you
Mother's diamonds earlier,

In my jewel box I found this pearl

that the empress was so fond of.

Take it.
It's very valuable.

You may need it one day.

It's yours.

Give it to your son
on his wedding day.

He still has that glum look.

You may reign one day.

Should I foster such a hope?

Is he intelligent?

I don't know.

Whether my son reigns or not,

I don't want Louis
to be Napoléon II.

No, never.

The third!

I was born in Granada,

but I spent holidays
at my uncle's in Arteaga.

Every morning I'd kneel
in the cathedral

before that jewel-studded virgin
who's worked many miracles.

If one day I wished
to make a vow...

I'd surely go there.

The emperor!

She's so beautiful.

On June 17th, 1815,

on this very spot,

the emperor bid farewell
to my mother.

I was here.
I can still see myself.

He asked
Queen Hortense about me.

He was anxious to know
if I was intelligent or not.

He shouldn't broach that topic.

People will always ask that
about me.

It will never be resolved.

In any case, he asked my mother
to one day give me this pearl

that had belonged
to Empress Joséphine.

Today, June 17th, 1865,

50 years later,

since we are among friends,

allow me to offer it
to the empress.

I've come to pray for those

fighting to save France.

I wish to add this pearl

to the Virgin's treasures.

Good-bye, Father.

God be with you,
Your Majesty.

What pearl, sir?

On the Virgin's forehead?

In 1914, a very old lady

asked me to add it
to the Virgin's treasures

so she would take pity
on those fighting for France.

And that lady was?

Empress Eugénie, sir.

Thank you, Father.

And that's the story
of the third pearl.

Now hear the tale
of the first pearl,

the one the thief lost
at gambling.

Ah, I understand.

She gave it to her granddaughter
for her engagement,

saying the pearl
should never leave their family.

The old woman of our day
has only a son.

She gave it to him begrudgingly.

The pearl was false.

I understand English now.

- He said that in French.
- Ah, that's why!

It must be one of the two
from the queen of Ethiopia.

Probably.

Your turn now.

Yes, my turn.

This pearl seems
to have come into this world

only to help secure
the amorous favors

of the ladies.

Fifty years later,
old and poor,

she sold it to an old lord,

who had a place for it
right beside him.

Money provides
three types of joy:

acquiring it, having it,
and spending it.

I prefer spending it.

For you,
my sweet little Frenchie.

What's your name?

I'm Sorel's
great-great-great-granddaughter.

Agnès Sorel.

I love you too,
you distinguished old Englishman.

Kiss me.

Again.

Good Lord, they're demanding!

Don't be cruel,

my mean little lass.

Years later, that same woman,
now of some stature,

learned gratitude to men.

You're a handsome
young Hungarian.

Yes, I'm rather pleased
with myself.

And since I'm pleased
with you as well...

I have a present for you.

Good idea.

I should get two kisses

for this pearl.

Two kisses are a lot.

Ah, turnabout is fair play.

Should I repent
for having been cruel?

What I said in the past

don't you say now.

No, don't say I'm demanding.
I said those words too often.

Find something else,
something better.

Make me suffer,
if you wish...

if you can!

Truly, I deserve it

more than any woman.

Be brutal... cowardly...

vile... despicable.

Be not sparing
with your cruelty

if you wish me to suffer

almost as much as I,
for 200 years,

made other men suffer.

Sixty years later,
the 90-year-old Hungarian,

with roles reversed once again,

waves the pearl
with trembling fingers

at the lyric soprano
whose favors he buys.

Those piercing high notes

are called "sweetheart notes"... -

pure coincidence.

In any case, this old,
none-too-bashful gentleman

pays dearly for each note.

With age, sopranos lose their voices,
as she did hers.

One winter night
she sold the magnificent pearl

to a gentleman
whose singular tastes

might seem perverted.

Yes, my sweet negress,

your profile isn't Greek.

But Helen's beauty
isn't what I seek.

Your beauty
makes my head spin.

For the satin luster

of your ebony skin

will bring this pearl's
whiteness to its peak.

Sixty-two years later,
the old woman,

ailing and miserable,

sold the pearl
to Don Pedro Jiménez.

That same night,

Don Pedro gave it to a ballerina,

whose eyes, legs,
and breasts he loved.

Old in her turn,
one night at Maxim's,

she sold it to a grand duke
at the next table.

Sic transit gloria mundi.

The new owner
parted with it 32 years later.

Life is cruel at times.

To avoid poverty, she sold it

yesterday at an auction.

And then?

Would you like to see the pearl?

See it?

Yes, see it and hold it.

Would you like to touch it?

Of course!

Then come to dinner tonight
on the Normandie at Southampton.

What do you say?

Of course.

Come in.

Who are they from?
- I don't know.

But I think it was a man.

Probably.

When do we reach Southampton?

- In three minutes.
- Thank you.

Oh, I can't take any credit.

Some arguments are decisive.

Hypothetically.

Hello, darling.

This is John Russell,

His Majesty's equerry.

Giovanni Riboldi,
the pope's chamberlain.

Well?

Come along.

- Where is he?
- I don't see him yet.

There, right behind you.

The man sitting alone?

He looks furious.

Because we came along?

I have no idea.

Has he spoken to you?

Yes, he made
some vague compliments.

Are these from him?

I found them in my cabin
with no card.

I'm sure it was him.

Congratulations.

Your boyfriend
doesn't even have a tuxedo.

- You mustn't stare.
- Oh really!

The man speaks to my wife

and sends her flowers,
and I'm to say nothing?

Be logical.
You told me to follow him.

He saw me at the auction,

on the train,
at Le Havre, and here.

He wondered if I was following him
and finally asked.

I'm in an awkward situation,
and it's your fault.

We'll discuss that later.

Gentlemen,
please excuse my reaction.

I think it's quite natural.

What's our choice
of poison here?

- What?
- There's something on my plate.

See what it is.

The pearl!

By God!

He's gone. Good riddance.

I don't want a private matter
to spoil our excitement.

Hand me that pearl.

Gentlemen,
here's the marvelous pearl.

I said you'd see it tonight.
I kept my promise.

Magnificent.

Marvelous.

Please put it on.

I'm not saying
you'll wear it for long,

but put it on for a moment.

Getting off at Southampton, sir?

Yes, I am.

I don't want any trouble
with that man.

You're not going on
to New York?

I'll take the next ship.

That'll teach me.

Women!

How would you know?

I was one once.

I'll curse all women
until the day I finally meet one

who makes me forget the harm
the rest have done me.

Inexorably.

What's with all the adverbs
on this ship?

Get my bag.

Luckily I trust you,

because it's unthinkable
for a man

to just send a woman
a pearl worth 250,000 francs.

Let me have that pearl.
I'll give it back to the gentleman

and clout him
a good one at the same time.

Don't think I won't!

Gentlemen, we must say
farewell to this pearl.

You're returning it to him?

Of course.

What did he say?

It's of historic value.

Do you have
the right to dispose of it... -

Do I have the right?

I must say I agree with him.

Yes, it's the sole survivor

of the three lost pearls.

Yes, it's true.

It belonged
to Pope Clement VII,

Catherine de Médicis...

and the queen of Scotland.

It should end up...

- In Rome.
- In England.

Or in the Louvre,
in which case... -

My God!

The die is cast.

Fate has decided that
that marvelous wandering pearl

should return
from whence it came.