All language subtitles for Les enfants du siècle aka Aşkın büyüsü (1999) Juliette Binoche, Benoît Magimel

The Children of the Century

"We were born

"into a world in ruins.

"The wars were over

"leaving no glory or ideals
to die for.

"Despair was our religion

"and scorn our only passion.

"Women dressed in white like brides

"while we, the young men,

"wore black like orphans, and stared

"empty-hearted at them,
blasphemy on our lips.

"I was living in this wilderness,

"wrapped up in my selfishness,

"until, suddenly,

one day, I met her."

Wait for me, for God's sake!

What's wrong?
You could at least tell me.

- It's only a novel.
- No, a confession!

Which means
telling the truth!

Am I really like that stuffy lady?

No one recognises themselves in books.

Readers will. Believe me, Buloz!

For pity's sake...
George!

His leg's better.

- Water him.
- Yes, ma'am.

Boucoiran!

Mama!

The pumpkins are ripe...
Time to make jam.

Let's go to the kitchen garden!

George!

lf you don't like his version,
why don't you write your own?

Perhaps I will, one day.

But you won't be the publisher.
Adieu, Buloz.

You can catch the midday coach
at La Chatre.

Several years earlier, June, 1832

Mama...

What are you doing down here?

They're all so noisy.

I can't sleep.

Go back to bed.
I'll be up in a minute. Go on.

I'll tell them to be quieter.

Go to sleep now. It's late.

ls it Papa shouting?

- They're talking politics.
- Is he drunk again?

No, you know how he likes his drink.

Come on now. It's been a long day
and you must get to sleep.

No, leave it.

Will we go to Paris one day?

Why?

To get away from his shouting.
You said we'd go.

I don't know.

Paris, a few days later...

Come on!

Stay there! Don't move! Hold on tight!
Don't lose the bag.

Solange!

My book!

Maurice!

Mama!

Let go of me!

You have to let me in!

Sorry, not dressed like that.

Aurore!

- You have no hat!
- I lost it!

I was told you were here.

Where have you come from?

Chateauroux.
Did you not get my letter?

But I've left my husband.

Can we at least sit down?

Come this way.

- Is she hurt?
- No.

Get her some salts.

l'm not likely to faint now,

but give the children
sugared water.

You risk cholera!
Bring tea!

Don't people know what's happening?
Boulevard St Martin is a bloodbath.

I live near there!

I must go.
You'll need friends in Paris.

l'm home most afternoons.

l'm Marie Dorval.
l'm an actress.

l'm sorry...
Latouche, editor of Le Figaro.

Baroness Dudevant.
We wrote Rose et Blanche together.

You're Jules Sand?

Yes. Well, it was us.

I couldn't use my married name
so Sandeau gave me half of his.

Aurore Sand, then...

I want a man's name.
No one listens to women.

Women will. It's to your advantage.

l'm a writer
not a woman who writes.

I'd like to call myself George.

George without an "s".

George!

Cigar?

He won't spread his tail.
Turn round.

Show him your feathery rumps.

Put some life into it!

The peacock's call
is like a lover's groan!

Well, Musset?
Does my farmyard not inspire you?

Put them in the cage,
then he'll mount them.

You can stop now.

- What's wrong?
- It's not you.

They irritate me.

Let's change prey.

How about an actress?

She's prey for Sappho.

She is?

I'll wager 1,000 francs.

You're on.

See that woman over there?
I want you to seduce her.

- That's Marie Dorval.
- So?

I want to see
her hand between your legs.

Go on, l'm watching.
No cheating...

What's the matter?

l'm scared.

Of who?

Musset.

Beware! He's ruthless and spiteful.

Who with?

Women, of course.

Unlike us, men are fragile lovers.

They pick at old wounds.

Come on, Marie
you're taking all night.

lt's odd how experience hardens men

but makes women softer.

There you are!

I knew it.

Will you accept
my dirty money?

Dirty? You don't even know
the meaning of the word.

And now to more serious business!

Did you think
I hadn't seen you drawing?

Show me!

No... It's not very good.

Don't toy with desire, Musset.
It's a dangerous game.

Come with me.

You know, drawing the two of you

has managed to get me...

Care to join us?

No, thank you, not tonight.

Excuse me, sir...

Musset!

Your father's very ill.

lt's cholera.

Don't go in there! Alfred!

Alfred!

No one's here.

Where is he?
I want to see him.

You even missed our father's death.

One year later...

Flat sleeves are the best.
Did Palmyre make this?

- Do you want the waist tighter?
- I'll look like a stovepipe.

I wore trousers too
when I was a camp-follower.

I want to feel at ease

and in trousers, I'll pass unnoticed.

When I come to see you at the theatre,
I won't need an escort.

I'll fetch the jacket.

I can't afford to have
my dresses cleaned every day.

They won't have
any doubts about us now.

I couldn't care less.

You're the best thing
that's happened to me in Paris.

- Solange, what are you doing?
- Just playing.

"ln marriage,

"a woman is enslaved.
She has no rights.

"She can't think for herself

"can't own property

nor feel erotic pleasure."

Quiet!

"lt is easier
to accuse a woman of frigidity

"than to try to give her pleasure.

"Modern man's ideal wife
is a whore.

"An honest woman
has no choice

but to give in
or commit suicide."

lt's a scandal!

Marie! You're leaving?

Yes, I need some air.
I told you it was a mistake.

To tell the truth?

Some written words
should never be spoken.

Was it Buloz's idea?

Do you think it was wrong?

She doesn't understand.
No one will.

What counts is that your true friends
admire your courage.

Beuve, Pinson's leaving.
Get his opinion.

Your name will be on everyone's lips.
The book will sell like hot cakes.

You sound like a baker.

Come on!
Romanticism is his stock in trade.

I know.
He once climbed a barricade, but...

Give me a cigar.

ln public?

What public?
They're all leaving.

- What do I tell Buloz?
- It's fit for the water closet!

He'll send you a set of proofs.

To shine my boots!

Instead of licking other people's.

Musset, I had no idea you were coming.
No one told me...

Beuve, how are you?

Why, it's Marie Dorval...

Alfred, where have you been?

I was gambling.
I need to borrow two hundred francs.

- You're joking.
- Not at all.

So, is the reading over?

Capo de Feuillide, critic,
"Revue de Paris".

Your reading will be featured

- in my column.
- Thank you, sir.

No need to thank me
I'll drag you through the mud.

You may dress like a man
but to me you're even less than a woman.

With just enough syntax
to link your vile thoughts.

Fear not.
It will sell.

By the pound! like manure!

I'll see to him.

Drink this. Don't cry.
Not in front of them.

Why should I cry?

I don't know.
Stupidity makes me want to cry.

That wasn't stupidity.
It was hatred.

A critic's hatred. What of it?
Hatred at threepence a line.

You know what? That idiot has made me
want to read your book.

I've been through this too.

Three years ago,
I had a play staged.

At the Odeon, no less!

I felt like killing
every one of them.

Critics, audience, actors
and me included, as punishment.

What for? For boring them?

I tried to please them.
It's much worse.

- You hate the public?
- Not at all.

I realised then
I wasn't writing for them.

You and I know that the joy of writing
is in the execution...

Something terrible is happening.

I hardly dare tell you...

I want to kiss you here and now.

Don't worry, I won't.

I know it's impossible.

l'm thirsty.

Don't move.

What's this story of a fiasco
with Merimee?

What?

Dorval is telling
anyone who'll listen.

- You're joking!
- She's in there.

What are you doing?

You tell everyone my secrets?

I was tying to explain your nature,

that you'd never known pleasure.

Anyway, you have no secrets now.

lt's what you wanted.
At least thirty men

are ready to take up the challenge.
But it'll still be a fiasco.

You force yourself.

And you force others.

You impose yourself on them.

lt's very unpleasant.

She just left, I think.

Here!

You just missed him.
Another party, another crowd...

- The night is young for him.
- George!

I've had a row with Marie.

The critics are at war.

That's it.
The debate is under way.

They're here!

lt's like a coffin.

No, it's a bathtub.

- Is it heavy?
- Yes, of course.

Why are they washing you?

For his portrait.

Mr Delacroix is painting a battle,
with soldiers...

Naked soldiers?

Bath-time, Planche.

No, it was a bad idea.

Come on!
Courage, Mr Planche!

- I'll pay for the water.
- Be brave!

Hello. What's your name?

Maurice.

ls your mother in?

Ouch, l'm not a lobster!

Some cold water?

Beuve, please close the door.

You'll be the death of me!

We have a visitor.

- Musset!
- I should have charged an entry fee.

Forgive me...

Don't worry.
It's always open house here.

You all know Alfred de Musset.

Of course!

I agreed to undergo this humiliation
if Madame Sand scrubbed my back.

Now l'm getting cold.

Close the door!

I've just finished your book.

I was afraid

that I'd dislike it.

You look like Marat.

Musset, would you care
to share my bath!

I chose the wrong day.

Musset in the tub!

Come on!
I'll make room for you.

I'll let him take my turn.
Here, Planche.

Enjoy yourself.

I'll come another day.

Have you seen Bocage's Louis Xl?

I hear the play is dreadful.

I have a box for tonight.

Are you angry?

lt's not your fault.

lt's the actors who ruin plays.

Not actresses?

No, they ruin one's life.

- Who is it?
- Dudevant!

I'll say good night then.

Please come up.
I have something to give you.

Do you have five minutes?

Of course.

Drat!

You'll wake Boucoiran.

ls that the dog?

Are you still up?

I was preparing tomorrow's lessons.

What would I do without you?

- Mama!
- Isn't he asleep?

- I'll go.
- No, it's all right.

How was the play?

A dozen butcher's boys dressed as pages
take three acts to kill each other.

Romantic drama is dead.
It reached perfection too soon.

Hugo and Dumas

have spoiled audiences.

That bogus Renaissance!

You've been "spoiled"!

They're this century's
greatest writers!

This century has barely started!

- I must be going...
- No, wait...

That's our only copy.

Maurice wants a glass of water.

He had a nightmare...

Good, it will make a writer of him.

Here... I'd like your opinion.

Not a historic drama, I hope.

Yes, but since you hate the genre,
you'll be merciless.

"A Conspiracy in 1537"!
My mouth is watering already.

Good night, then.

Would you like a candle?

No need...
l'm like a cat.

I live by night.
I can see in the dark!

Did you land on your feet?

Yes, don't worry.

- What's wrong?
- The play!

I read it in one go.
I've just finished. It's amazing!

Lower your voice...

You know what you have here?

- Your Lorenzo is Hamlet!
- Not so loud.

An Italian Hamlet!
But he's still Hamlet.

- What is it?
- Does Boucoiran sleep here?

Yes. Why?

I've woken you up...

No, I was working.

- Would you like some coffee?
- Yes, please.

Where did you find this story?

ln the Varchi chronicles.
I didn't invent a thing.

ln 1537, the tyrant
who ruled Florence was murdered

by his cousin, Lorenzo de Medici.
It's true.

lt's a true story.

I like the character
especially his dark side.

I'd make him die like a dog at the end.
It's what he wants.

No, he wants freedom!

Freedom, you say?

People dream of freedom,
but no one really wants it.

Freedom is terrifying.

Oppression is so much more comfortable.

Sit down.

I see I've shocked
your republican conscience.

My republican conscience
has seen worse.

I was a baroness for ten years.

No, you're wrong.

Oppression in marriage
is far from comfortable.

This place is so calm
without your pack of bohemians.

What do we do with Lorenzo?

Kill him?

lt's the only possible ending.

So we've got the ending to do!

No, we have to redo the whole play.

"Lorenzaccio enters
looking melancholy.

"The Duke, in a low tone:

"Look at him drained
by his orgiastic fever.

"Look, he shames his parents,
his mother weeps."

"Look at that ambling aftermath
of an orgy."

"Look at that...

"ambling...

"aftermath...

of an orgy."

"He shames his parents,

"his mother weeps and Florence says:

"Here's the wicked Lorenzaccio

the spy, the traitor..."

Have you ever betrayed?

Perhaps.

Did you enjoy doing it?

I hope not!

Then your heart's too pure
to understand Lorenzo.

To him, betrayal
is as exciting as love.

His pleasure comes when he sees
his victim realise the truth.

I think you're right.

I can't begin
to understand perversity.

I find it hard to believe it exists.

I learned that
from the first woman I loved.

She seduced me
in order to betray me later.

I know Lorenzo
and every corner of his mind.

I could do everything he does.

You could kill your cousin?

I almost killed my brother

in a hunting accident.

Your hero is just like me.

How did you manage?

I just imagined the worst.

And you turned up.

Mama!
Maurice pushed me in the pond!

You didn't fall.

Liar! I didn't push her!

What are you doing?
Come out.

Don't wake them, they're asleep.
Come along.

What's happened?

They've been working.

Let's surprise them.

How late did they work?

All night.

We'll bake them an apple pie.

Have a safe journey.

Three months isn't long.

I'll think of you every night.
Will you?

Yes, I'll think of you.
Off you go, now.

There's a chicken and some
bottled pears in the basket.

Come here, my darling.

Hold me tight.

Give my love to everyone.
Off you go.

Can we go to the zoo again?

Yes, we'll see the monkeys next time.

He's right, they'll soon be back.

They won't. Their father's sending them
to boarding school.

They learn more with you.

I have no choice.

Don't you want to see Rome...

Florence...

Touch the marble, see the palaces...

A moth has a fine life...

Just a few days spent dancing...

ln flames, you mean!

They're right to burn.

life is too short to be petty.

No, we mustn't.

I can't love you in that way.

There's a place in my heart,
but for a true comrade.

lf you want it, it's yours.

What's the matter?

I've swallowed a moth.

Mother, did you know
Alfred is preparing a masterpiece?

He is?

Hermine, you haven't eaten a thing.

Leave her plate, please.

A new poem?

No, you'll be pleased...
It's a play.

About time, too.

I knew you wouldn't dwell on a failure.
This one will be a success.

Yes, because I've rid myself
of what makes a play fail:

the audience and the actors.

lt's only to be read,
never performed.

l'm calling it "armchair theatre".

A play without performances?

What's the subject?

lt's about a conspiracy,
in Florence, under the Medicis.

By the way, I must tell you
about a journey I plan to make.

I need to touch the marble

see the palaces.

l'm going to Italy.

Do you plan to go alone?

Nothing has been decided yet.

Until Madame Sand decides.

- Where are you going?
- l'm leaving this house.

Sit down, please.

Hermine, leave us.

Shouldn't I have mentioned it?

- Is it a secret?
- You want to discuss family secrets?

We're talking about today.

You won't waste your life
on an older woman

with a husband somewhere!

He has given her back her freedom.

That's what they all say!

I will not let you go.
I forbid it.

Not with that woman!

You'll thank us one day.

You're out of your mind!

I beg of you, Alfred!

Out of my way!

Don't go. I fear for you.

You fear for yourself.

Alfred's leaving!

You don't understand.
l'm in love!

You may respect her
but you're incapable of love.

And you destroy those who love you!

What's happened?

Can you put me up?

Come in.

Have you lost your key?

ln a manner of speaking.

You can have the sofa.

Any earlier
and I'd have had time to cancel.

l'm off to the Girardins'.
Do you want to come?

No, thank you,
I've had enough theatre for one day.

There are sheets in the cupboard.

Perfect.

lt's too dull, isn't it?

- The colour, maybe?
- The fabric, perhaps.

lt's taffeta!

Or the shawl....

No, it's the dress.

ls this the latest Byron translation?

Buloz sent it over this afternoon.
Take it if you like.

Have you told your mother
about our travel plans?

We've fallen out.

lt's not good
to fall out with one's mother.

That's exactly what she said.

Ah, no comparison!

Let me...

- What's that?
- Fragonard's "Girl with a Ribbon".

The first woman
to share my room.

She must know a thing or two.

There.

Could you do me up?

Are you sure you won't come?

I hate to abandon you.

Don't worry,
your perfume will keep me company.

lt lingers in rooms after you've gone.
What is it, patchouli?

You're armed?

Paris is a dangerous city.

I wouldn't like to meet you
in the woods.

Then again...

Go, before it's too late.

Your carriage is here.

Pay it off and send it away!

Wait!

You imitate passion
but you feel nothing.

I know men aren't meant
to say such things.

But to the author of "Lelia"...

Savour this moment with me...

Every day, I think of your body...
all its movements...

ln every shade of light,
I imagine its shadows...

Its hidden secrets...

What skill!
Were you raised in a circus?

Absolutely! I was doing
the "dive of death" at five.

Those words I swore not to say...

Should I utter them
don't believe me.

Come here.

I hate heights.

Shall we jump?

I dare you.

We'll never live
another moment like this.

Are you ready?

Shall we do it?

No!

See the way I am?

I want to give you so much

and the best I can offer
is to die with me.

Escape, while you still have the chance.

lt's too late.

Baroness Dudevant
for Madame de Musset.

Please wait.

l'm against this journey.

That must be why you're here.

lt's not a whim.
He is deeply inspired by Italy.

My son keeps me informed
of his work.

But why not wait until spring?

His mind is set on the new year.

Bring him back to me.
That's all I ask.

Don't worry, Madame.

I love him... I love him like...

like a mother?

Wait.

2,000 francs for his journey.

I'd rather give it to you.

Don't thank me.

You're taking your whole library?

Keep the key
in case you come back one day.

l'm not going off to America!

l'm staying here.
I'll be here when you get back,

a little dustier perhaps
but you'll see I was the one...

Look after yourself.

You haven't shaved!

l'm not following you.
It will be like a funeral.

A funeral?

Or a wedding if you prefer.
Weddings are even gloomier.

An imperfect match...

Charming...

Stop that row!

I almost forgot.

Father wanted you to have it.

l'm glad you came, Paul.

This is it then?
You're leaving?

I wager you come back
with someone else.

Thank you, Tattet...
Very tasteful.

Forgive me.

- Go.
- I'll write to you.

That's a good start.

My friends, I won't write to you.

Charming. Thank you, Musset.
That way, we don't have to reply.

Well, Florence or Venice?

We'll toss a coin on the coach.

Farewell!

You're in love.

Aren't you?

What is it?

I don't want to be eaten by bedbugs.

They should be so lucky!

l'm not well.
I have a fever.

l'm in pain.

Do you regret this journey?

I've never been so happy.

Where are you going?

l'm not sleepy.

l'm going up on deck.

Where were you?

Mind my papers!

You're quiet. Don't you like Italy?

I didn't expect to spend
my nights alone.

While you're out on the town
with a coachman.

The Venice coach is leaving.
All aboard, please.

What do you two
find to talk about?

He's a local.
He showed me round.

What do you expect me to do?
Watch you write?

lf you want me to stay in,
make me.

lt's not in my nature.

lt's beneath your pride.

What you retain by force,
you kill.

Haven't you noticed?

What? Is he still drunk?

No, we're alone.

Alone at last!

I can't go on.

- l'm letting go.
- Me, too...

Good day.
You're entering Venice,

Austrian territory.
May I see

your passports?

This is Venice? We're in Venice?

His pockets!

Got it!

Get the key.

lt's a great honour for us, Madame Sand,

to have you here at our hotel
for the new year.

My God, l'm so impressed.
All Venice is eager to meet you.

l'm not very well. Could you send up
some hot water and quinine?

Do you require a doctor?

lf you can find one.

Let me take care of it.

Send for Doctor Pagello.

I must go and lie down.

Will you send up the bags
and pay the porters?

I can't, l...

What's wrong?

I've been robbed.

What?

I've just been attacked.

Close that window, I beg of you.

Why are you in a bad mood?

Another attack of the spleen?

Yes, so I'll take my "spleen"
into the city.

Of course. Enjoy yourself.

At least you do that well.

I could have been killed just now!

May l?

Where will you go?

The nearest casino.

I thought you had no money.

I'll wager my inheritance!

Excuse me...

l'm Doctor Pagello.

Thank you for coming so soon.

You're running a fever.

I may have dysentery too.

ls it serious, doctor?
Should I stay?

Don't worry.
Leave her with me.

l'm not a very good nurse.

I think I'll take another room.

Don't unpack my bags, please.

Come in.

How's my patient today?

I think you've cured me.

I feel much better.

Good...
I feared it might be typhus.

Really?

Good.

They've featured you in the gazette.

I didn't know you were so famous.

- Neither did l.
- George!

Excuse me.

What a miraculous recovery!
Congratulations, doctor.

How are you today?

"Andante ma non troppo".

What have you done to yourself?

- What?
- Look...

Let me clean it up.

No, leave it.

I want a reminder
of last night's sins.

What's the news?
Is something happening at last?

Our arrival is announced
in the gazette.

Our arrival?

lt's mostly about you.

Allow me.

Can one find opium here?

Of course.

For insomnia?

No, for boredom. It's the only thing
one can't drown here.

You don't like my city?

lt disappoints me.

I wanted Casanova's Venice
Guardi's Venice...

Not some petty Austrian garrison town.

You promised
we'd see no Austrians here.

Well done!

What's going on?

I don't know.

We need money. They're evicting us.

We're selling everything,
even the furniture.

lt's an eviction.
They're selling their possessions

but everyone's poor here.

Why not go elsewhere?

Jews aren't allowed to trade
outside the ghetto.

We need money.

You shouldn't.

I thought you had no money left.

I won it back at the casino.

See you tomorrow.
Eight o'clock at the Florian.

I must ask your forgiveness.

I've been odious
these last few days.

I was angered by your illness.
I almost felt you did it on purpose.

Never leave me.

My papers!

Fancy writing in bed!
Do I sleep on your desk?

You sleep where you like

and don't write anywhere.

Will "Lorenzaccio" ever be finished?

You might say why finish a play
that won't be performed?

Why perform a play
that will be a flop?

You don't deserve your talent.

There he is.

Oh no, he's brought his friends.

Shall we go back to the hotel?

We can't do that.

We'll stay five minutes,
then I'll say l'm tired.

What's wrong?

We're not married.

Give me your arm.

lf it's an arm you need, you should have
stayed with your husband.

Did you find any opium?

Sorry, I forgot.

Please...

He's leaving?

He's leaving.

- Fourteen.
- Your cloak?

George...

meet Romeo.

He'll keep you company
when l'm not with you.

When he sings,
you'll know you're in my thoughts.

Then he won't sing often.

lt's the quality of the song
that counts.

Get dressed, a gondola's waiting.

I have work to do. I promised Buloz
150 pages by the end of the month.

He won't pay

until he gets them.

Doesn't he realise
inspiration needs feeding?

Touch the marble, see the palaces...
That's what we came for.

ls that why you
spend your nights in brothels?

You've come a long way
for so little change.

Maybe l'm a poor judge.

Venetian whores must be
more picturesque than Parisian ones.

Can't you see
I need to live badly to write well?

l'm sure you do...

So?

For someone who defends women
I find you very scornful.

ls this some game?

lf I have to compete,
at least give me a fair chance.

Draw me like them.

How much would you pay me?
Thirty ducats?

I think he's dumb.

As much as forty?

Twenty.

Charming!

lf you want to play,
play by the rules.

lt's not just beastiality.
There's avarice too.

Men enjoy lowering the price.

How do you want me
for that price?

Tender? Docile?

Passionate?

- Brutal?
- Stop this stupid game!

Don't try to imitate them.

For them, it comes naturally.

They have the grace of animals.

Ah! You're no longer with me.

You're right...

Once you've loved someone body and soul,
you can't turn back.

You taught me how to love that way.

So if you can't give me that,
I want nothing.

We'll have tried everything.

We've exhausted each other.

Love shouldn't demand such efforts.

Forgive me,

I don't think I love you anymore.

Monsieur de Musset!
I have your opium.

Not too much at once...

Take a coat.
It's going to rain!

Look!

A drunkard, a tramp!

Go and sleep, drunkard!

ls anyone there?

Show yourself!

We found him in a canal.

Send for a stretcher!
l'm taking him away.

A stretcher?

Send word to Doctor Pagello.

Doctor Pagello, yes...

Madame Sand...

I fell asleep.

No, rest now...

Nothing more can be done.

lt's my fault.
I gave him the opium.

Calm down...

What are you doing?

Give me that!

I can't do anything.

But he can fight it.

Get some rest now, please.

I'll stay with him.

Please.

"My dear Buloz,

"Alfred is critically ill.

"He has a brain fever

"and his doctor is at a loss.

"I fear for his life.

"lf he dies
I don't care what happens to me.

"lf he recovers, I don't how
how we'll pay the doctor.

"I can't send you anything for now,
l'm unable to write.

"He is raving
and I can't leave his side.

Farewell, my friend."

Don't drink my blood, mother.

lt's poisoned.

You must get better, Alfred.
Do you hear me?

Why are you buying me?

l'm alive.

You've put me in a coffin
but l'm alive.

Alive!

Urine!

lt's urine! He's safe!

He's safe?

A few days ago,
I'd have died to save him.

Now I wish his illness
would never end.

l'm going mad.

ln that case, l'm mad as well.

I won't be able
to look at him again.

We've saved him
and that's what counts.

You and I have saved his life.

Leave me, you murderers!
You want to kill me!

- Take your medicine.
- You want to kill me!

The doctor's here to look after you.

No, he's not here to look after me!

He wants to bleed me!

He wants to bleed me like a pig!

That's it, isn't it?
Leave me alone!

Give me some air!
I want air!

I want air!

Let go of me!

Don't open the window!

Let go of me!

Don't move.

Get down from there.

I want a doctor who speaks French!
A real doctor!

I am a doctor. And I speak French.

No, you...

You're a "conspiratore"!

Not a "dottore", a "conspiratore".

Right, George?
A conspiracy in 1834!

That's it, isn't it?

Murderers!

He's mad!

l'm alive!

Take the key.

I'll kill you both.

Open this door! George!
Open it or I'll break it down!

What's going on?

Everything's fine.

I'll give him a sedative.

He'll soon calm down.

I need to talk to you.

I'll kill you all!

Dr. Pagello says Mr. de Musset
is on the road to recovery.

lt's been more than two weeks
since you told us you were leaving.

We can't travel now.
Surely you can see that.

You haven't paid your bill for ten days.

ls that the director
of the asylum?

Excuse me, I must go.
Excuse me.

lt's the director of the asylum!
He's come to get me...

The French...

He's mad.

No, he's raving but he's not mad.

Drink this.

What would I have done without you?

George, open this door!

Open it or I'll break it down!

What will become of us?

When I get out of here, I will kill

every one of your old lovers
and all the new ones.

Don't go to him.

You don't know who this doctor is.
He's the devil! The devil incarnate!

- What is this?
- Dirty devil!

"Dear Pietro,

"When you receive this letter,
I shall be far away.

"Perhaps you will never receive it.

"Alfred is fully recovered,
so we're returning home.

"My life is bound to his
as long as he needs me.

"I'll never forget you.
I love you.

Farewell. Pity us."

Just a second...
Doctor!

Madame Sand has said she is leaving
but I have a problem.

lt's about her bill...

What are those for?

My resurrection.

Here.

You went out?
You're sure you're not too weak?

l'm in the pink.

Were you writing? A new novel?

No, still the same one.

Am I interrupting you?

No, I'd just started.

Of course... Buloz!

Give us each day our daily chapter.

I haven't written
for two weeks.

That's not like you.

I've been looking after you,
day and night.

We have no money left.

You should have left me with the nuns.
I wouldn't have bothered you then.

I wasn't the only one
you looked after night and day.

Or so I believe.

What if we were to talk frankly?

About what? I have work to do.

You're right.

I must start writing again, too!

What did you want to say?

During my fever,
I thought I saw certain things

between the doctor and you.

- Was I mistaken?
- Yes, you were.

Swear to me.

I swear.

Let go.

Let go of me.

Look...

Look...

Look at the face of a liar.

Look!

Eat...

Go on, eat...

Eat your words!

You've never loved me!

Never...

Liar!

Liar! You've never loved me!

Oh, my God! Help!

Help!

Come on.

Never leave me alone with him again.

- You have nothing to fear now.
- Don't leave me.

We'll have him locked away.

Don't send me to a madhouse!
I'll go back to Paris.

I'll get help there.
I'll go back. Please...

Don't send me to the madhouse.
I'll get better.

Go and say good-bye to her.

lt's a long journey.
Are you well enough?

lf I end up in an asylum,
I'd prefer it to be in France, and soon.

You're not mad.

ln Paris, you'll recover and forget.

I don't want to forget.
I don't want to recover from you.

The coach won't wait!

What did he say?

You didn't understand.

Deep down, you're lucky.

You'll have no regrets.
I've left you nothing but bad memories.

I have no bad memories.
I never will.

I only remember the good things.
You know me.

Will you write?

No, you're right...
Don't.

Farewell, George.

Farewell.

Take care of her.

Write to me soon!

Write to me!

Go!

"George, in four days,
we'll be 300 leagues apart.

"Why not be frank?

"That far away,
there are no more fits or violence.

"If our last kiss
was the last in my life,

"I want you to know
that as I left,

"I realised how much
I deserved to lose you.

"You told me to leave and I left.
You told me to live and l'm alive.

"But I am lost.

"I no longer know if l'm walking,
breathing or speaking.

"But that's fine if
I know you are happy.

I have been such a poor lover."

"I am in Geneva.

"I wanted to be sure of myself
before I wrote.

"My love is still as strong.

"But I am serene.

"By taking you,
Pagello took everything I had.

"Yet I love him
for bringing me back to life.

"ls it not absurd
to love one's rival?

Write to me."

"lt has rained for a week
and the squares are flooded.

"I live almost alone,
Pagello is busy with his patients.

"I shut my bedroom door
and wrap myself in pipe smoke.

"Sometimes, I burst out laughing

"at the foolish things we did,
but then it makes me cry.

"Now, I know we'll be
in love for life.

But without passion or despair."

"I've been in Paris
since April 12th.

"Two weeks before I got here,
everyone knew we'd parted.

"Planche and Sandeau have been dragging
my name through the mud.

"I want to write our story.

"I think it could save me.

"When we met, I couldn't speak.

"Now that I can,
there's no one to listen

"and I haven't said anything yet.

Your letters hurt but I prefer the pain
to the good others bring."

"I've started a new novel.
It's not a story about any of us.

"I can't write about myself
in my current state of mind.

"But for your book,
do as you like.

"I offer myself to you blindly.

"l'm sending you an article
for the "Revue",

"hoping you'll approve.

"I wanted to write
about our friendship,

and silence those who say
you ruined and abandoned me."

"I received your article.
It is true: you still love me.

"I believe it, I can feel it.

"lt's true then, friendship can live on
when love is gone.

Tell Pagello
that he's silly not to write to me."

"Boucoiran hasn't written
for two months.

Please go and see my son
and tell me how he is."

"Maurice is well.
We're going out on Sunday.

"I went to your apartment.

"I found the cigarettes
you made before we left.

"They were in the saucer.

"I smoked them
with an odd blend of sorrow and joy.

"I only ash one thing of you:

"to see you just for one hour
some day.

"We won't talk about the past,
the present or the future.

"Please don't use Pagello as an excuse
to turn down this last request.

Let him suffer for once, like I have."

Look, it's dead.

I must return to Paris.
My son needs me.

I'll go with you.

Alfred...

Yes, Alfred.

She's back and she's brought

the Italian with her.

For God's sake, find another woman!

I ought to blow my brains out.

Hurry up and do it then.

I'd prefer a dead man
to someone sick of life.

Ah! How divine...

Let me guess... your new novel?

No, but it's for you anyway.
From Italy.

As an apology? I'll be wary
of your trips in the future.

Gaultier isn't at home, sir.

Then ask Dumas, Soulie, Paul de Kock!
But find me an article!

The latest issue?

I need twenty pages by this evening.

Will the account
of a trip to Venice do?

- By this evening?
- It's written.

- Six hundred francs?
- I have no choice.

Neither do l.

I've got into the bad habit
of paying for everyone.

Have you missed me?

Yes, and l'm not the only one.
All Paris has taken its revenge

by spreading wild rumours.

Really? Like what?

That you'd become a nun.
That you'd run off with a Turk.

I should have done.

An Etruscan vase
to brighten up your evenings.

Those Etruscans were saucy fellows.

So, who's this Italian?

The man who saved my life.

I thought he saved Alfred's.

Still, if you've found happiness...

Let's say I've found peace.

Have you seen him? How is he?

ln a terrible state.

He wants me to arrange...

a chance meeting.

I'll drop the article off
before I take the coach.

Leaving us again?

For Nohant. I haven't seen
the children in months.

What are you doing here?

Did you get my last letter?

Why didn't you reply?

You can't do this. You can't!

You can't kill love before it's over.
It will seek revenge.

Dare to tell me you don't love me.

Dare to tell me you weren't happy!

Let go of me!

ls that you?

lt looks good there, no?

Tell me it's not over.

George! I've changed!

l'm not jealous anymore.

I'll open the door.

l'm not violent anymore.

I am nothing.

Without you, l'm nothing.

Open the door!

George!

- Wait, mother.
- What's wrong?

Please... l'm scared.

What of, for God's sake?

I dance so badly...

Typical of you
to put the cart before the horse!

Someone has to ask you first.

Isn't that poor Edmee?

Isn't she in mourning?

She has a daughter to marry.

What are her chances?

A father carried off by cholera:
no health.

Two brothers in literature: no morals.
As for the rest

no conversation, no appetite
and no dowry.

Why is she here then?
She may as well plough the sea!

My dear Edmee,
so lovely to see you again!

The feeling's mutual,
my dear Caroline.

You know my son Paul.
And this is Hermine.

My, hasn't she grown!
You know my friend Hortense.

Alfred couldn't come.

What do you mean? He's here!

Fancy... Your brother's here!

l'm sorry.
I dropped my fan.

lt's my fault.
Forgive me.

No, don't bother.

Please don't bother.

Do they soothe your throat?

No, they soothe my life.

Would you like one?
They're opium cachous.

- Thank you.
- My pleasure.

You do the waltz here?

Everyone does. It's all the rage.

Hermine, if someone should ask you,
I'd rather you...

May I have the pleasure
of the next dance?

Look at them!
They have no sense of balance.

They're falling all over the place!

Silly girls!

- Why did you drag me here?
- For your entertainment.

With my family here?
Brilliant.

Enjoy the party.
Look at what's on display.

They're young and rich.
Some are even pretty.

Alfred!

Alfred de Musset... Aimee d'Alton.

- Delighted.
- We just met.

Mr. de Musset gave me an opium cachou.

Now, you promised me this waltz.

- Did I really?
- Yes.

Perhaps Alfred can replace me.

I'd be delighted.

Come on then.

Come quickly!

He's fallen over!

Mademoiselle d'Alton...

Will you marry me?

We've raised 1,000 francs.
The veterans will be happy.

ln praising you,
Alfred omitted the essential.

He wanted to surprise me.

She's delightful. l'm subjugated!
Aren't you jealous?

You stand no chance.
Aimee is faithfulness in person.

The dream after the nightmare.

That woman will suffer
for the harm she did.

She already has been.

How's that?

- Didn't I tell you?
- It's starting...

That Italian doctor...

He was selling fake Etruscan antiques
to pay for his stay in France.

People go to prison for less.

She sent him home.
Scared of scandal no doubt.

Look, doughnuts...
Would you like some?

I'll be right back.

He's mad.
Look at the way he's dressed.

lt looks like a skirt.

He's such a child!
You'll need a lot of patience...

You and I will protect him
from his demons.

I have 25,000 pounds in income.

I'll use it to further his career.

I'll start a salon... In ten years,
he'll be a member of the Academie...

lt's still happening...

lt won't stop...

There's no end to it.

Julie, have the bailiffs been?

Madame, it's worse than that.

I couldn't stop them.

They've gone mad!

Isn't this better?

Look how beautiful it is!

No more of that Turkish bazaar.

lt was like living
in a painting by Delacroix.

One curtain to go, children!

Not the curtains!

Come on, get up.

Look at the state you're in.
Go and wash.

You too, Maurice.
You should know better.

lt wasn't my idea.

Off you go.
Wash their faces, Julie.

Are you angry with me?

lt was Alfred's idea.

Don't be such a telltale.
Go and wash your hands now...

Can I at least keep the carpet?

What's this?

lt's coral.

Who gave it to you?

There's a trunk here.

I've had my things brought over...
Do you mind?

"April 24th, 1819.

"I feel that I love God.

"I see a vast, endless path
opening up before me

and I yearn to set off on it."

How old were you?

Fifteen.
I wanted to be a nun.

The things one writes at fifteen!

"I want to love without suffering.

I want eternal love
with vows that can't be violated."

God, how we change!

From Venice, you wrote the opposite.

Listen to this:

"One day, you will look back
and say like me: I've often suffered,

"I've made mistakes at times
but I've loved.

lt is I that has lived, not a pale copy
of myself created out of pride."

What's that you're playing?

Schubert.
A piece Liszt gave me.

When did you see him?

I didn't. If you really want to know,
I composed it.

What are you saying?

I composed the piece.
But I didn't want...

to seem boastful.

So you just lied to me?

I didn't lie.
It was out of modesty.

You're not modest!

lf you lie, like that,
for no reason

how can I believe you
when you say you love me?

That's got nothing to do with it.

So, did you see him or not?

- Who?
- Liszt.

Franz, Ferenc, whatever...

No, I didn't see him.
What of it?

You know it doesn't matter.
What more do you want?

The truth!

The truth!

The truth is I love you
and l'm mad to love you!

Yes, I love you and it's killing me.

Your suspicions, accusations
and jealousy are never-ending.

Just tell me... Were you lovers
when I was ill in Venice?

You have no right to ask.
You left me the day we arrived.

You said travelling with a sick woman
was sheer hell.

You took a separate room
that first day.

Now, you want to know
when we first kissed?

lt's a moment in my life
that doesn't belong to you.

Then you don't love me.

When you're in love,
you can tell each other all.

l'm tired.
l'm going to bed.

Save that line for your play.

No, I have a better one.

"All men are liars,

"unfaithful,

"false, glib, hypocritical,

"proud, cowardly,

"despicable and sensual.

"All women are treacherous,

"deceitful, vain
nosy and depraved.

"The world is a bottomless pit,

"a sewer in which twisted seals
writhe on mountains of slime.

"But there's one
holy and sublime thing in this world:

the union of two
of these imperfect beings."

Where have you been?

The circus.

We saw a battle.

And elephants.
Can I have a baby one?

Two...
We'll put them in your room.

Have you been crying?

I've just finished reading
Alfred's new play.

I thought it was a comedy.

lt's a sad comedy, Maurice, like life.

"Unreasonable Love".

Now it's "Don't Toy With Love".

Come along.
It's dinner time.

Go on, Maurice!

lt's your best play yet.

lt will still be staged in 100 years.
Sorry, read in 100 years.

You used my farewell letter
to Pagello.

You might have said farewell
but you didn't leave him.

My God, we're going to be late.
Julie!

Come as you are.

Suppose we stay in...

Dinner now and then to bed.

I've made blancmange.

You're wearing that?

Yes. Don't you like it?

You look like an undertaker's horse.

What shall I wear then?

The Spanish comb.

Again!
Why do you like it so much?

I like the look it gives you.
Like a femme fatale...

Do we really have to go?

Yes, I want to go out.
I want to see people.

But most of all
you want people to see us.

They say he's a priest. I didn't know
they had to learn the piano.

Your brother
is picking up your cast-offs.

lt's only fair.
I used to wear his old clothes.

I've just had a brilliant idea.

Your portrait by Delacroix
for the review.

That will cause a stir.

You want to end up as wrapping
for fried potatoes?

I'll get us a drink.

I'll talk him round.

Your rekindled passion
annoys everybody.

They'll get used to it.

I thought you'd sworn
to sever all connections.

We couldn't help it.
Surgery isn't always successful.

To surgery's failures then.

And to my lost wager that he'd return
with another woman, not the contrary.

I'd like to listen to the music.

You haven't sent me much
since your return.

I was waiting
for your account of Venice.

lt's time
you got back to work, Alfred.

Planche, you're bitter.

No, you just don't know her.

- Go home.
- I haven't had a drop.

She's just very... organised.

The Italian was next door.
After checking one man's temperature,

she went to warm the other up.

Be quiet!
You're drunk!

lt was the Italian
who bragged about it.

She can satisfy
more than one man at a time.

Just ignore him.

She's depraved!

No, just a little agile...

One from in front
and the other...

- from behind.
- Ignore him.

He's right, Alfred.

Musset!

I don't know this new dance.

But l'm not sure
I want to dance with you.

Get up, you fool.

You must be joking.
No one strikes a man who's down.

So l'm staying down here.
l'm a coward, you know.

Malicious, yes...
but still a coward.

I'll kill you, Planche.

By the book.
Our witnesses will arrange it.

Who says I won't kill you?

Apologise... He'll accept.

Never. l'm not that big a coward.

- See what drink does to you?
- l'm sober!

You're in a fine state.

Planche, this is madness.

- l'm sober.
- You're dead drunk!

Let me talk to him.
This is absurd.

What's going on?

Try to reason with him.
I can't.

I forbid you to fight for my honour.
It implies you own me.

You don't!
I settle my own accounts.

l'm just ridding the world of an idiot.

- By killing him?
- Why not?

Will you miss him?

Stop that!

You're right.
Killing off all your former lovers

- would require an army.
- Here we go again...

Yes, here we go again.

The handsome doctor
and his miracle cures.

He may be gone but, miraculously,
he's still with us.

Here!
It was him who gave you

this taste for pleasure!
There!

His parting gift?

You've been odious before.
Now you're vulgar.

You're the vulgar one.
Like your novels!

Find someone else for this game.

This is where I stop.

Careful! Too much glue.

Leave me alone.
l'm working.

Mother, pass me the fern.

Look out!
Quick! Close the window!

Madame, Mr. de Musset...

Paul...

Am I disturbing you?
It's early.

No, no, not at all...

My brother asked me
to return this to you.

He has taken our advice
and shut himself away to write.

Would you kindly return his things?

Not forgetting...

the small Fragonard
I believe he left with you.

Mother's very fond of it.

Please, take it with you now!

Don't make things any harder.
It won't help anyone.

Madame Sand to see Mr. de Musset.

He's not here, Madame.

I assure you.

He's expecting me.

Don't insist, Madame.

Alfred!

Why won't you answer my letters?

I have things to say to you.
Open the door.

"At the risk of losing you,

"I shall tell you
the truth you have so often asked.

"Yes, I lied to you in Venice.
I would have told you everything

"but you were delirious
and you couldn't have taken it.

"Yes, my love, I betrayed you.
Yes, I lied to you

and I should have died that day."

Look!

Literature will never do better.

All Lamartine is there.

Isn't it all too much
after a while?

Have you seen her?

Does she know you're here?

You can't be enemies.
Paris is too small.

You'll forgive her,
or you'll forget her in no time.

You don't understand!
It's over!

lt's over.

My book is a farewell message.

When I finish it,
take it to her for me.

I never want to see her again.

What fun for your friends!

I have no friends.

Except for Tattet. He's the only one
who told me the truth.

Can't we go back?
My feet are soaked.

Do you want the simple truth?

Nature doesn't inspire you.
You're bored.

So stop playing the hermit
and come back to Paris.

Once I stop loving him,
I'll recover my pride.

Ask him to see me one last time.

One last time...

Can you give him this letter in person?

Shall we begin?

How do you manage, Lacroix,
when you suffer?

I give in to it.

When it's run its course
it lets me go.

Put this on.

Suffering is like time itself.

lt has to be tamed.

lt leaves scars.

But scars are beautiful.

They tell a story.

l'm ready.

- Yes?
- It's Beuve.

l'm sorry but l'm busy.

You've come for news?

She wants to know how I am?

Well, tell her...

Tell her that l'm well.

That I am managing to survive
without her.

That's a good thing.

Your happiness
would never have lasted.

You're not the same species of animal.

ls the book going well?

I've almost finished.

Why do we write
about people we've loved?

To immortalise them
or to kill them off in our hearts?

A critic like you
should consider that question.

I think you've just answered it.

She insisted on coming with me.

I suppose you have no wish
to say good-bye.

lt's wiser...

I'll be right back.

He's gone to see her!

Calm down.
They're saying good-bye.

They'll mention the letters!

What letters?

Those she writes every day.
We intercept them.

Are you that afraid of her?

Don't worry.
They won't mention them.

How can you tell?

I trust in their pride.
They're beyond that now.

You have nothing more to fear.

See, he's just saying good-bye
to a woman in a hackney.

The real George, for Alfred,
is on these pages.

Name me one writer
who doesn't prefer fiction to reality.

You've changed.

You've cut your hair...
Like Mademoiselle de la M么le.

Don't look at me.

l'm not a pretty sight.

l'm going back to Nohant.

I wanted to see you again
before I left.

Get in.
You're soaked.

What are you looking at?

You want to see
if the flame is still burning?

You know it is.
It will until I die.

That's the worst of it.

That's how love avenges itself.

Adieu, George!

Drive!

Stand back.
You're scaring them.

Why are they attacking me?

They know you're a stranger.

You smell of the city.

I'd like to see you
after a ten-hour journey!

You see!
I warned you!

Let me see.

Here...

There.

- l'm so glad to see you again.
- It's been a long time.

Don't you county people embrace?

My, you're looking prosperous.

You've eaten up
all your competitors.

I'll put some arnica on that.

Did you get them?

I have them here.

He said you can keep them

but he wants his back.
It's only fair.

Now perhaps you can tell me
why you wanted them.

l'm writing my version of our story
for you to publish.

I've waited so long for this.

My writing slanted
in those days.

ls he still as handsome?

He's not at all well.

He tried to find inspiration
in absinthe...

lt's his heart.

What heart?

You're hard on him.

Some are missing!

The last ones...

Has he kept them?

Why would he do that?

I had a hard time convincing Paul.

lt wasn't easy...

with those two women.
The sister-in-law is so jealous.

ls Paul married?

To Aimee d'Alton.
Didn't you know?

What's going on?

Hermine!

- What's going on?
- An accident.

I'll walk the rest of the way.

I'll be there in five minutes.

- Are you sure?
- I'd rather face them alone.

Don't be too hard on him, for once.

Mr. de Musset. l'm expected.

Madame, it's impossible.

Not this time.

You don't understand.

I was there at his birth, Madame.

He was destined
for a brilliant future.

We forgave him everything
in the name of his genius.

Then he met you

and his inspiration dried up.

And earlier today,

he died.

Your betrayal destroyed him!

Here!
These are what you've come for.

He has never read them?

He never received them.

"I want you to read this one day
and know how much I loved you.

"Oh, my tears, sign this page

so that one day they may find
your traces by his name."

There, that's the last one...

And now it's my turn
to write the truth about us...

And you'll have no say in it.

No need to feel embarrassed, Madame.

lt would be a sad thing
if one couldn't talk to the dead here.

He never received them...

Look at this tree, dry as a bone.

Fancy planting a willow here.

lt's sandy.
There's no water...

lf he had received them
would that have changed things?

Yes...

No...

I don't know.

I don't know.

Love does exist;
it is not an illusion.

l'm sure of that now.

One merely has to recognise it

and be humble before it.

We didn't understand it.
We parted in the arrogance of youth.

We didn't know then
what we learnt with time:

we only love once
with all our soul.

Today, I know it.
It was him.

He was that one time.

English subtitles: Ian Burley

Processed by L.V.T. - Paris