Original subtitles

One hour later

We have orders to kill you if you scream.

Don't scream, Mme la Duchesse,

I have a headache.

ln fact, I will untie you.

What good would your cries do?

No one can hear you.

May I ask what you intend to do with me?

Nothing at all, Madame.

You are here for a short time.

I will explain who you are,

and who I am.

When you wriggle on your sofa, in your boudoir,

I have no words for my thoughts.

Here, my mind is unfettered.

Fear nothing.

Perhaps you think of rape,

I wouldn't think of it.

Madame,

one minute, one will suffice for me

to affect the rest of your life.

You inspire a spirit of justice in me.

Atone for your fault.

God may forgive you, I wish it.

Spare the tears, Madame.

Nothing in you can move me now.

All is said.

You have a right to speak harshly,

and I deserve this punishment.

Armand,

I thought as I resisted love,

I was obeying woman's nature of modesty.

You take my weaknesses

and make crimes of them.

My severity spoke more of love than of complacency.

And besides,

what is your grievance?

My heart was not enough,

you brutally demanded my person.

Brutally!

You came to me

as with those bad women,

with no respect,

none of the attentions of love.

Had I not the right to reflect?

lf I did wrong,

may I not be forgiven?

May I not mend?

Armand,

these women you take me for give themselves, but they fight.

Well, I fought,

but here I am.

I love you!

I am yours!

Madame,

Antoinette cannot save the Duchesse de Langeais.

I believe neither one nor the other.

Armand, who are these men?

What will you do to me?

These men are as discreet as I am on what will be done here.

Look at them as my instruments.

One of them is a surgeon.

Surgeon?

Speak,

tell me if it's my life you want,

I will give it to you.

You don't understand?

Did I not speak of justice?

Look at this star.

We will stamp it on the forehead,

here,

between the eyes...

You will not hide it with diamonds.

Your forehead will have the mark

applied on the shoulders of convicts.

My Armand,

brand your creature quickly

as your poor little trifle.

I see but mercy

and forgiveness,

but eternal joy in your vengeance.

By marking a woman

as yours,

with your red brand,

well,

you can never abandon me,

you will be mine forever.

Come in,

come gentlemen,

and mark the Duchesse de Langeais.

She is forever more to M. de Montriveau.

Come quickly,

my forehead is hotter than your iron.

I spare you, Madame.

lt's as if it never happened.

But here

let us bid goodbye.

Goodbye?

Goodbye.

I have lost faith.

You would torment me, you would always be the Duchess, and...

nothing.

Goodbye.

What do you wish?

To go home or return to Mme de S�rizy's?

Where do you want to be?

Take me to the ball.

Throw to hellish society one who suffers in it,

and will continue to suffer in it

if there is no happiness for her.

lf I leave,

allow me to take something.

Anything! This.

When you wish to leave, tell me.

- I wish to stay. - Out of the question.

Here. This was poorly wet!

- You smoke? - What wouldn't I do to please you?

Go away, Madame.

I obey.

We must cover you so you may not see the way.

I am ready, Armand.

Can you see?

No.

I can hear you.

You can see!

A bit.

You deceive me still?

Lead me, Monsieur,

I shall not open my eyes.

My friend, I love you

as your bourgeois love you.

This society has not corrupted me.

I am young and have just become younger.

I am a child,

your child,

you have just created me.

Don't banish me from my Eden.

Move ahead.

My dear Antoinette,

we were looking for you everywhere.

I came here to breathe.

The reception rooms are unbearably hot.

Goodbye, my dear.

I love him...

A week long, she looks for him at balls and receptions...

in vain.

What is this impatience, my dear?

Another cup of tea?

For the tea, I say yes.

You have fallen out with M. de Montriveau?

He doesn't come here anymore?

He is nowhere to be seen,

he is surely busy with a woman...

So you miss him.

I heard monstrous things about him.

Hurt him, he never comes back, forgives nothing.

Love him, he keeps you in chains.

Those who praise him say he's a great soul.

Society does not care for great souls.

Men of that stamp are best at home.

May they remain there.

I am cross not to see him.

I had a sincere amity for him...

I love great souls.

Go, Lisette.

I don't want to be disturbed.

The next day, at dawn, her letter is carried by Julien.

Did you see him?

Yes, Madame.

He is in Paris then!

How is he? What did he say?

Tell me everything, Julien.

M. le Marquis said he would come to Mme la Duchesse.

He is coming!

I need Lisette.

The fire is dying.

I want big flames.

Hand me my shawl.

Madame,

it is ten o'clock...

I will go.

But, the following morning...

Yes?

M. le Marquis bids I tell Mme la Duchesse it was well.

Well?

For twenty-two days,

Mme de Langeais wrote to M. de Montriveau,

with no reply.

And don't forget that Spinoza

in his third volume...

Oh,

what is it?

Mme de Langeais' carriage.

lt is empty?

lt appears so.

ln front of General de Montriveau's!

- Damn! - Damn.

What of it?

Mme de Langeais commits the noblest imprudence!

Mme de Langeais is a heroic woman.

Now, she can love but Montriveau.

What will society become, Monsieur, if you honour vice,

and forget virtue!

Before all of Paris, to renounce for one's lover,

to society,

to fortune, and one's rank...

A feminine coup d'�tat!

Dear aunt,

do you really think my daughter is at M. de Montriveau's?

What do you think, Vidame?

lf the Duchess were na.i.ve, l'd say...

A woman who loves becomes na.i.ve, my poor Vidame.

You are getting old then?

But what is to be done?

There are a thousand ways to fix it.

lf M. de Montriveau is gallant, he will.

You don't know Montriveau, my dear aunt.

He's a lord of the day,

a pupil of Bonaparte,

with a major command in the Guard,

and not the slightest ambition.

At the first ill word, he might tell the King:

"Here is my resignation, leave me alone."

My child,

what is happening?

What is happening, dear father?

Paris thinks you are at M. de Montriveau's.

My dear Antoinette, you didn't go out?

No, I did not.

But I want all of Paris to think l'm at Mr. de Montriveau's.

Don't you know the result?

You embarrass your husband, your rank in society.

We're no longer under the Valois, we can still fix everything.

My aunt, I don't want to fix anything.

I want all of Paris to say I was this morning at M. de Montriveau's.

Antoinette, a woman must never give reason to her husband.

I thought like you, dear uncle,

as long as I didn't love.

I saw but interests,

where I now see but sentiment.

But, my dear,

life is simply a complication of interests and sentiment.

To be happy, in your position,

one must reconcile sentiment and interest.

I shall be eighty and don't recall, under any regime,

encountering a love worth the price you are willing to pay.

My child, you speak of sentiment.

A Navarreins cannot do certain things without failing his house.

You would not be dishonoured alone.

Dishonour.

Such a fuss over an empty carriage.

Please be so kind to retire. Leave me alone with Antoinette.

Go on!

My little gem,

no man is worth the sacrifices

we are crazy enough to pay their love.

- My dear aunt... - Listen to me.

I know by experience you will do as you please.

I would have done the same at your age.

But, my darling, don't give away the right to make Dukes of Langeais.

Stay in a position to be your husband's wife.

An imprudence means a stipend,

a wandering life...

At the lover's mercy.

A thousand times better to go to Montriveau's at night, in a cab, disguised,

than sending your carriage in broad daylight. You're a little fool, my dear child!

Your carriage flattered his vanity,

your person would have taken his heart.

My aunt, don't slander him.

Don't vex anyone, neither him, nor us.

I'll take care of pleasing all.

But promise not to do anything without consulting with me.

I promise.

- To tell me everything... - Everything that can be told.

Dearest, precisely what cannot be told, I wish to know.

Go on, lead me to my carriage.

Dear aunt,

I may then go to him in disguise?

lndeed, it can always be denied.

Two days later, Mme de Langeais wrote M. de Montriveau another letter,

yet with no reply.

But, this time, she took measures...

When is M. de Montriveau to come?

He will not return tonight, Madame.

I don't recognize anything.

Does he have two homes?

You will not answer.

I understand.

I only paid the right to enter. Very well.

A carriage,

quick!

After twenty-four hours of reflection,

she sent for the old Vidame de Pamiers.

M. the Vidame de Pamiers.

Dear child, you are very pale,

did you not sleep last night?

Don't smile, I beg of you,

at a woman who is so wretched.

You may be the last relative,

the last friend whose hand I shake.

Grant me, dear Vidame,

a service I could not ask my father,

or my uncle Grandlieu...

or any woman.

I beg you to obey me

and forget you obeyed,

whatever the result...

You must go,

with this letter, to M. de Montriveau,

and see him,

show it to him,

ask him to read it.

You may, to bring him to it,

say it is a matter of my life or death.

- lf he deigns... - lf he deigns?

lf he deigns read it,

say one more thing:

he must, for any answer, see me.

You will find him at five o'clock.

- Are you sure? - I know it.

lf three hours later, at eight,

he has not come out,

all is said.

The Duchesse de Langeais will have left this world.

My dear child...

I don't wish to hear any kind of comment

or advice...

"lf you love me, cease this cruel game,

"you would kill me.

"I want to be irresistibly loved,

"or left ruthlessly.

"lf you refuse to read this letter, it will be burned.

"lf having read it, you are not three hours later,

"forever, my only spouse,

"my end will honour my love...

"lf, having read it, you are not three hours later..."

These gentlemen have just arrived.

Have them wait.

Good evening Marsay.

Hello de Trailles.

Mission accomplished.

What did he say?

Nothing. He kept silent.

Stay and dine with me.

Let us talk, laugh.

Let us be like two old philosophers.

You are a gallant man

and the adventures of your youth have,

l'd like to believe, made you indulgent with women.

Not the least.

Really?

Anything pleases them.

I think he is sublime!

Sublime, not at all!

Don't ever say sublime!

Divine, adorable, marvellous... old style!

The proper word is "stunning"!

For instance, Fragoletta de Latouche,

the preface is stunning!

At the opera, yesterday,

the Tinti was stunning!

Dear Vidame,

be so gracious and ask if he is in.

He is indeed.

Now you must leave me.

I no longer need protection.

But the passer-by?

None can show me disrespect.

And also,

there is poetry.

For the Taglioni, Mme de Maufrigneuse says,

"There is poetry in her dance."

Even better:

there is drama!

Bonaparte, there is drama!

What do you say, Montriveau?

Yes?

Latouche, there is drama!

Fragoletta, what drama!

There is drama in this book!

Or else,

you're by a clear expanse of water,

on a calm evening

with a proper young maid...

Proper, but...

stunning!

Stunning but...

proper.

You say,

"There is drama here!"

My God...

For instance,

I went to see my uncle at Pierrefonds.

That man is rich,

he has horses,

well, he doesn't know what a tiger is, a groom, a britschka,

and still travels in a cabriolet.

Poor fellow.

Gentlemen,

farewell.

Some business obliges me to leave.

Hell's Boulevard,

for the last time, she looked at the noisy, smoky Paris,

bathed in the red of the lights.

And then... what?

She was at my door at eight.

At a quarter past eight she disappeared.

I lost her...

lf my life were mine, l'd have blown my brains.

Calm down.

Duchesses don't fly off like wagtails.

They need a carriage,

these angels have no wings.

On the road, or hiding in Paris, we will find her.

So we see you tomorrow.

Sleep, if you can.

Neither Montriveau, nor his friends found trace of the Duchess.

She had obviously chosen the cloister.

A few months after the last interview,

a merchant ship left Marseille and headed for Spain.

lt's agreed,

neither ruse, nor force

will succeed in the city.

Fergus.

Ruse, no. But force!

We destroy the city, and the convent.

Like pirates, we burn all, and leave the rest

for the crows.

What do you say, Montriveau?

I could care less for the lives,

but I prefer being discreet.

Unless there is a third way.

There are but two.

Either arms which frighten Europe...

or a ghostly kidnapping, mysterious,

convincing the nuns they were visited by the devil.

More difficult,

but more elegant. I also prefer.

Who votes for the brutal solution?

Then it will be the other.

We attack from where it seems impractical.

And all this, without a sound.

A few hours later

What is this singing?

I shall see.

Move ahead.

All the nuns are in the church.

She was a woman, now she is nothing.

Let's tie a ball to each foot, and throw her to sea.

Don't think of it but as a book,

read in your childhood.

Yes.

lt is but a poem.