Original subtitles

A chronicle of facts

that contributed to the fall of the monarchy

14TH JULY 1789

Present arms!

Forward march!

March!

About turn!

Forward march!

Squad, halt!

I would like to speak to His Majesty. Who is his gentleman?

Monsieur de Guéméné.

Announce the Duke de la Rochefoucauld-Liancourt.

Good evening, Guéméné.

Kindly inform His Majesty that I am here.

I must warn you, the hunt was keen today.

His Majesty sleeps like Hercules after his labors.

Pray make haste, my dear Guéméné.

- Is it serious? - I believe so.

His Majesty is not asleep. Pray enter.

Good evening, La Rochefoucauld!

I slept, but was aroused by a pang of hunger.

It is this hunting.

We chased a ten-pointed stag, very rare now.

Picard, put the small table on the bed.

My good Guéméné, pour me some wine.

My dear Duke, pass me the chicken.

Picard has placed it beyond reach.

He thinks, because I'm king, I must have long arms!

What is it?

Sire, the Parisians have taken the Bastille.

So it is a revolt?

No, sire, it is a revolution.

A VILLAGE IN PROVENCE JUNE 1790

I saw you.

Pardon a poor wretch, your honor.

I was wrong to kill your pigeons,

but they were eating the only crop I have.

You, there! You are witnesses.

I didn't see anything.

Nobody asked your opinion. Obey!

Take him away.

Case of Anatole Roux, accused of pillage.

You are a habitual offender!

Last year, my men caught you setting snares.

Luckily for you, on land owned by Monsieur Giraud,

mayor of this village, here present.

His misplaced generosity saved you from the gallows.

Count, a man is master of his own domain.

This is a flagrant case.

The pigeon is mine and there are witnesses.

I didn't see anything.

It is my heritage, as squire, to mete out justice.

A thankless privilege,

but it is my duty to exercise it unflinchingly.

Before all else, we serve His Majesty.

Your case is beyond my jurisdiction.

I will refer it to the magistrates.

Come now, Count, you know what they're like.

They've no more heart than a rock,

and no more sense than... an old pot!

With them, it's the gallows.

The gallows for a pigeon. Do you think that just?

The pigeon is immaterial.

It symbolizes the order I must defend.

It seems a pretty skimpy symbol to me.

There's nothing of it when it's plucked.

Once they kill our pigeons, they'll burn our castles.

So you are really defending your feudal rights

rather than the laws of His Majesty?

Both.

Destroy the feudal order which assures your rights,

then you destroy our social structure,

based on respect for divine and natural order.

Of which you, too, are a beneficiary.

A very small beneficiary. I know your tune.

If your privileges disappear, then mine will follow suit.

To keep my little comforts, I must abet your abuses.

You, the great lord, own most of the land here.

I'm an old warrant officer. You think we're interdependent?

I would rather lose everything I possess!

I surrender.

I'll go quietly.

What do you mean? Are you mad?

- Is that a hearth? - Yes.

It's all wrong.

Don't try to tell me how to do it.

I'm a mason, a good one.

I know my trade, ask anyone.

What's the matter with this hearth?

The wind's in the west.

You're no longer in town, you have to think about the wind.

Here's a good one.

Who's that?

I don't know.

- Who are you? - What about you?

We're from Marseilles.

- Fleeing the king's justice? - Not the king's, the aristocrats'.

- Same as me. - We're not criminals.

- Me neither. - We're patriots.

That's enough to put us in jail.

I killed a pigeon. That means the gallows.

You know this area?

I was born in Cadolive, just over the hill.

I know the priest there. He brings food when he can.

- Have you a leather belt? - I have.

It's a present from my mother.

There.

It'll make a good sling. We'll kill plenty of blackbirds.

- Got any string? - What for?

For snaring rabbits. There's plenty about.

- You seem to be quite a hunter. - I know.

That's what the count says, too.

- What's your name? - Jean-Joseph Bomier.

I'm Anatole Roux, but everyone calls me "Chamois."

- And you? - I'm Honoré Arnaud.

Toll clerk from Marseilles.

- Staying with us? - Willingly!

But let's remake that hearth.

Still, it's a good life here.

You want a blackbird? Just use the sling.

You want a hare? Just set a snare.

Understand the ways of Nature. That's the secret of it.

But that's just what makes it so exciting.

The simple life. Why don't we stay here forever?

Don't you want to see your mother again?

Of course I want to.

But think, I spent my life cooped in a house.

Like living in a cupboard. I'm staying here.

And women?

I'm old, I don't care. But you're young.

We could bring a beauty here.

We could easily feed her.

And she could help with the cooking.

It wouldn't be long before you quarreled over her.

If we had everything:

bread, salt, brandy, women, tobacco,

then this place would become a town.

Better to go back to Marseilles, clear it out.

Get rid of the aristocrats,

and profit from our parents' efforts.

Friends!

Here's Paget!

Is that how you keep watch?

Why bother? No one ever comes here.

What have you brought?

All a poor priest can afford. Bread, cheese, tobacco.

It's wonderful bread.

Thank God you're Arnaud's friend.

That's not why he helps us.

I've had enough of starving, too.

Our plight...

would touch even the stones beneath our tattered shoes.

Turn your rabbit, it's scorching.

Who's cooking it, you or me?

You can't talk to him, now he thinks he's a cook.

For a year, my vicarage has been windowless.

But the bishop lives in a palace,

keeps mistresses,

leads a debauched life that shames a servant of Christ.

He's just a lad of 22.

Noble lads aren't like ordinary ones.

Us folk, when we father a child,

we pass on our features or color of hair.

But a nobleman, without further effort,

passes on every imaginable talent,

political, military, ecclesiastic.

Without learning anything, the offspring knows everything.

We priests are like sergeants in the army.

Like sergeants, we have no hope of becoming officers.

I'm glad I'm a widower and my children are dead.

Ordinary folk should refuse to have more children.

Isn't your rabbit cooked now?

I think you're right.

Paget!

- Seen the smoke? - This one?

That's the Château de Bigeor burning over there.

The other place belongs to my bishop's brother.

Children,

the time is ripe for you to return.

We need you.

The aristos must be feeling pretty sick.

I wouldn't like it if my house was burnt.

Would you like ten years in the gallows?

The nobles have taught us bad habits.

They made us cruel in their image.

They're reaping. Reaping what they sowed.

They are like invisible witnesses.

It's not their fault. It's their God-given nature to do evil.

But now we're ready to get rid of them.

I'm sorry now my children are dead.

Because you young ones will build a new life.

Good-bye, my friends.

Whatever you do, stand fast.

- Good-bye, Chamois. - Good-bye, my friend.

Good-bye, Chamois! I won't forget what you taught me.

Give me that. You'll get guns in town.

OCTOBER 1790

Arnaud, of the Young Citizens.

Got your card, Bomier?

What for? Don't you know me?

I shouldn't let you in.

What's all this bureaucracy got to do with revolution?

It's all your writers and book-learners

inventing paperwork to make yourselves important.

You can't make order with disorder. Come on, let's go.

Respectable people are attacked on the streets!

The Mayor of Marseilles does nothing!

Yes, we want order in our streets!

The reactionaries are dictating the law!

The rich should pay taxes!

We dockers of Marseilles,

disciplined workers and opponents of violence,

stopped the looting of tax collector Rebuffet's property.

We stamp out crimes against public order

committed by reactionaries in defiance of the people.

He's right!

Therefore we offer you our wholehearted support.

I now call upon Citizen Moissant.

Citizen Moissant will sum up the situation.

To sum it up:

just as we witness an admirable scene,

king and nation united in the public weal,

a handful of troublemakers compromise the Revolution.

In their business houses, they work to force up prices.

In government,

they plot against nationally important measures.

And they are in the army.

Here in Marseilles, we have the three forts

held by officers hostile to king and people.

Threatening the town with cannons,

those troublemakers insult and harry all patriots!

By agreement with the new municipality,

we citizens of Marseilles,

members of the civic guard and patriotic groups,

have decided to seize these forts

and place them under our own elected authorities!

Books are always describing magnificent dawns.

Because writers are still in bed then.

The majority of dawns are cold, gray, with miserable colors.

I'm a painter, so I know.

Do you paint portraits?

I paint the heroes of antiquity,

Romans, Spartans and such patriots.

I've given up the aristocrats' shepherds and shepherdesses.

Javel, Ardisson...

you can start now.

- How are you doing, Diogenes? - Fine!

- Good. - Let's go.

You there, open up!

- What do you want? - We've got some wine!

- Who sent it? - Ravel.

It's a present from the municipality.

Go round by the main gate.

- Unload your barrel here. - Not further on?

Mind your own business.

Gently now.

Why so careful?

Can't you see it's an old barrel?

Anyway, it doesn't do to shake up wine.

There's something fishy about you two.

Get going!

You old misery.

You might offer us a drink.

I've got my orders. Go on!

Shake hands at least, comrade.

What are you doing?

The nation has just seized the fort!

Come along now! Hand over your rifles!

That's the spirit! Take it, Javel.

He doesn't know what to do with it.

- Ardisson, guard the door. - Don't worry.

You two, here. Give him your gun.

You watch the prisoners. Be careful, they're fierce.

Quiet now, this is the guard house.

On your feet!

Help! We're being attacked by brigands!

That's enough! Enough!

Don't worry, you won't come to any harm.

Alert!

Fix bayonets!

Save useless bloodshed.

You had better surrender, sergeant.

- How many are you? - At least 2000.

In that case, lay down your arms, men!

Arnaud, I'm going to the cells to look for Cuculière.

Yes, go on.

- Here, Cornil! - It's you!

What a pleasure to see you!

I didn't know you were in the army.

We both come from the same place.

- What are you doing? - Can't you see?

I'm keeping guard.

Who told you to?

I'm using my own initiative.

Have you a leader?

His name's Arnaud. He's inside.

Who's that?

The Marquis de Saint-Laurent.

Commandant of the Marseilles forts. He's a good fellow.

- Here. - Thanks.

How goes it, Marquis?

I've seen some strange things in my military career,

but this... this is a new one.

- How many prisoners? - Twenty-two.

- How many political prisoners? - All.

So much for the lettres de cachet.

You are Monsieur Arnaud?

Citizen Arnaud.

I am Commandant of the forts of Marseilles

and thus responsible to His Majesty.

I must ask you to surrender your arms and retire.

What's the matter?

It's my eyes.

All the prisoners suffer the same.

The doctor says he can't help.

It's the damp walls that cause it.

What are you doing here?

- We've captured the fort. - Well, well!

That's really good news. Yes, it's good news.

What about Arnaud?

Don't you worry about him.

He's all right. Come on, let's go.

Long live the nation!

You justify what I consider acts of rebellion

with words I don't understand.

The nation, citizens... what is all this?

The nation is the fraternal union of all Frenchmen.

It's you, me.

The people passing by.

That fisherman and his boat.

Citizens are the people who comprise the nation.

I have nothing to do with these people.

It's a new religion I cannot acknowledge.

I serve the king, that is all.

Or what you imagine to be serving the king.

When a king is prisoner of his unruly subjects,

no longer able to rule freely,

his loyal servants can only "imagine."

Permit me a question:

what are you going to do with me?

Wish you a happy journey to the frontier.

A pleasant stay...

in Germany.

And hope we never meet again.

GUESTS ARE REQUESTED TO PAY A WEEK IN ADVANCE

O, how sweet

Is my remembrance

Of the place

Where I was born

How sweet they were, my sister

Those days in far-off France

May my homeland

Ever be my love

Forever

May my homeland ever be my love

Forever

O, who will restore me

To my Hélène?

Who will restore the mountain?

Who will restore the oak?

Their memory

Pains me every day

Madame, that song is deeply moving.

It reminds me of our Provence.

Forgive me. It always fills my eyes with tears.

Madame de Saint-Laurent, the time for regrets is past.

- You will see your France again. - When?

In three weeks, Monsieur.

At last.

Monsieur de Boihue, will you rejoin your Company

or be transferred to the General Staff?

I have requested to serve as a private.

Only one thing troubles me: my insolently yawning shoes.

No matter. To serve His Majesty, one may go barefoot.

My dear Boihue, your shoes will hold out till Paris.

The expedition will be a mere stroll.

I can see it now. His Highness the Count d'Artois,

seated nonchalantly in his carriage.

Before him the doors will open, the populace will kneel.

The people, delivered at last,

acclaim the white flag and the fleur-de-lys.

If there is fighting, the revolutionaries will collapse.

One does not make war with weavers, cobblers and layers.

You forget one thing, my dear friends.

What, my dear Saint-Laurent?

The French have not always been beaten. They will resist.

Really!

At Rosbach, during the Seven Years War,

who resisted the Prussians?

You know the jest about Marshal Soubise.

Holding up a lantern, Soubise wondered:

"Where the devil is my army?

I saw it yesterday. Is it captured, or have I mislaid it?"

This time, we have the Prussians with us.

We are commanded by the Duke of Brunswick.

The great victor of that Seven Year War!

I just simply adore the Prussians!

Since the blessed day I learned they were with us,

I sing their praises!

I had the joy and honor of meeting the King of Prussia.

But perhaps I have told you already?

Yes.

Now there is a man!

A true Achilles, an Agamemnon!

He weighs at least 200 pounds.

Seeing him, even Jacobin bigots can't say all men are equal.

Long live Prussia and the Prussians!

Madame, I cannot share your enthusiasm.

After noisily proclaiming our championship of Catholicism,

it seems slightly indecent to soil ourselves with these heretics.

It is the marriage of carp and rabbit.

At least, let us not be ungracious rabbits.

Let us render thanks to the generous carp

who saves us from starvation.

Of course.

Of course, this hotel is not Versailles.

But without heretics, we would be sleeping in the street.

Above all, thanks to them we shall return to France.

That is precisely what irks me.

We arrived two years ago. Everything was beautiful and pure,

without question of soliciting aid from strangers.

We sought to uphold ideas

we thought essential to our country's greatness.

We sought to uphold them by our own efforts.

Dirty linen should be washed in private.

Now you invite your neighbors to assist.

They may well make off with a few items.

A drowning man can well yield his watch to his rescuer.

Your scruples would be more fitting in commoners,

peasants or artisans from some place or other.

Their views are necessarily limited.

Their greatest journey is to the next village

and they're bound to marry their neighbor's daughter.

Their children will never know other horizons.

One can see why these people gargle about "the nation."

Shall I tell you what it is, their "nation"?

The rabble united against people of quality.

I know another definition of "nation."

It was given to me at Marseilles,

by the man who deprived me of my command.

His name was Arnaud.

He had the style of a gentleman, yet he was a patriot.

If there are many like him, we'll not have an easy task.

Monsieur de Porquerolles, Monsieur de Saint-Laurent,

pray cease your historical discussions at once.

We require you to settle a dispute of great importance.

Let's go.

At Versailles, in the third figure of the gavotte,

does one look right in turning right, or left?

But it's very simple. Here.

How incredible. I have forgotten.

Do you remember?

Forgive me, but I am no expert.

Ask Boihue, that pillar of the Trianon.

Good idea.

It is very simple.

Keep your eyes fixed on your partner

while looking over your shoulder.

APRIL 1792

Who goes there?

Sorry, citizen. I thought it was the Austrians.

They aren't far away.

Where are you from?

Grandes Mottes, on the Mons road.

Some snipers fired on the Austrians,

so they burned our village, arrested the men.

They took my husband and hanged him.

Is it true there are Frenchmen with them?

Yes, they're aristocrats. The army of Coblentz.

It's shameful.

Why don't you and your child rest here by the fire?

Aren't you ashamed to rest while they hang and burn?

I'd like to know what our army's doing to protect us.

They say the Austrians laugh at your disappearing acts.

- Did you hear? - Yes.

She's right.

Is your crow cooked?

It's as tough as an old boot.

It's an old crow.

Still, it's food. No use relying on La Fayette's rations.

Damn aristocrats. They betray the country and let us starve.

What about Rochambeau?

Do you know him?

The general? I haven't had the honor.

But I know Marat. I spoke to him in Rouen once.

When we Parisians arrived at Tournai,

that Rochambeau lined us up on the square.

After marching all day, we weren't exactly pretty.

And we hadn't shaved since leaving Paris.

We all had a beard like the Wandering Jew.

Well, this Rochambeau

came out wiping his mouth with a serviette.

He'd been stuffing his guts.

He looked us over slowly, taking his time,

just as if we had full bellies, too.

Then he said, with a sneer I'll never forget:

"What am I supposed to do with you? You're too small!"

Small?

- How tall are you? - Nearly five feet.

- A fine man. - Finest in my trade.

- What is it? - I'm a house painter

in Les Batignolles, near Paris.

And you?

I'm a cooper from Darnetal, near Rouen.

Our fault, in the eyes of these gentlemen,

is that we're volunteers in Republican blue.

We trust our regimental committees,

the Assembly, Robespierre, Marat. We're patriots!

Nearly all the officers are aristocrats.

To me, anyone with a handle to his name is a traitor.

It wouldn't be so bad if they openly supported the enemy.

But while they scorn the nation,

they don't scorn the money the Assembly stupidly pays them.

"I cash in and I betray!" That's their motto.

What's that?

Hussars, heading to the east.

- Surrendering to the Austrians! - Really?

It wouldn't be the first time.

Remember the Berchany regiment?

That was only last Tuesday.

How much are the Austrians offering

per man and horse, eh, Judas?

Vermin! I'll teach you to watch your tongue.

Clear off, or I'll fire!

The more horses we kill the fewer you'll sell the Austrians.

We can't waste time here!

Well, my old friend,

if things don't change soon,

what with the Austrians and Paris...

there'll be only the two of us left.

Citizens, my name is Louise Vauclair.

I sell fish by the harbor and I pay my taxes.

I have come to tell you that on April 28th,

near a town in the north called Mons,

my lover, Antoine Givodan...

My old friend Toni!

Shut up! Carry on, citizen.

Sit down.

My lover, Antoine Givodan, a volunteer of 1791,

sergeant in the 49th Infantry Regiment,

was killed by the Austrians.

Citizen Antoine Besombe,

trooper in the 6th Regiment of Dragoons,

brought me the news when he returned home wounded.

He told me my lover was killed fleeing from the enemy.

Citizens, some of you here may have known him.

If so, you know Antoine Givodan feared nothing.

And if he fled, it was because he was betrayed!

- I knew Antoine Givodan! - Me too.

- Be quiet, my friend. - He was a generous soul.

I still owe him two crowns he lent me at Santons Fair.

Are we going to send more men to death

if their worst enemies are in the rear, not at the front?

Well said! Down with the Austrian Committee!

Enough!

I'm not talking about aristos, who seek their country's defeat,

because defeat would restore their privileges.

I'm talking about the king and the queen.

I'm talking about the Assembly!

His Majesty, Monsieur Veto

betrays because he is a man of straw.

Madame Veto betrays because she is Austrian.

Because she is arrogant!

Because she hates France.

She believes the armies of her Austrian Emperor nephew

will restore her to absolute power.

She forgets that a nation cannot be led like a husband.

And that we women are here.

The Assembly betrays because it is afraid.

These gentlemen are content with revolution if it profits them.

But if it profits the people they rein in and cry anarchy!

Just a word!

Is it a woman's place to say such things in the tribune?

Yes!

I say a woman's place is in the house!

Your place is in the gallows!

Throw that man out! Show him the door!

There's talk of sending a battalion of Marseillais.

First to Paris, then to the frontier.

But we've heard so much talk that we've become mistrustful.

What we want is certainty.

An assurance that our men, before facing Austrian guns,

will have dealt with those criminal leaders...

who place self-interest before that of their country!

Unless we have this assurance, we will bar the way.

Our volunteers will have to stop or trample over us.

I believe they will stop.

Down with anarchists! Down with Robespierre!

Long live Robespierre!

Your Robespierre has neither eloquence nor dignity.

In short, he's a Republican!

No eloquence? No dignity? Now listen!

Citizens, are you free men or slaves?

Show respect for this Club of Friends of the Constitution.

This free tribune, where Jacobin tradition demands

that each have a right to his say.

I call on Citizen Moissant to speak.

I will tell you why the city of Marseilles

has decided to send a voluntary battalion to the north.

Like the battalions of our Federates throughout France,

it will represent the nation's will before king and Assembly.

Each volunteer will be sworn to go first to Paris,

to make contact with patriot groups and authorities,

and stay until patriot ministers have been recalled.

And measures taken against refractory priests,

against agents of foreign powers, speculators...

and other enemies of the Revolution.

Only after assuring these nationally vital measures,

will our federates march to fight the foreign enemy.

Foreign enemies to the gallows!

To forestall our adversaries,

who will not fail to paint us in the blackest colors...

the city has decided that admission to the battalion

will be granted to completely honorable citizens only.

Volunteers must prove they have no criminal record.

Their families must be well provided for in their absence.

They must swear they have no debts.

The expedition will be no excuse to shrink obligations.

They must have served in the army,

the National Guard or a civil formation.

We now open the first enlistment register.

Heroes of the South, saviors of the North, answer the call!

Come on! String up the aristocrats!

Come on! We'll get the aristos!

What are you waiting for, Bomier?

Aren't you coming?

So you're not going?

You're letting us go alone to Paris?

There'll be 500 of you.

Is it your mother?

- That business with Marie? - Maybe.

I don't understand.

An old comrade, a liberator of the town.

You were all set to leave,

dreaming of sacrifices for your country.

Yet now the time has come...

you desert us.

You can't talk about the king's dependence on the queen.

You sacrifice honor and dignity for a woman, too.

So long, Bomier.

It's as though my brother had died.

HERE WE ARE PROUD TO SPEAK FRENCH

The Mouté boy is going, Aunt.

Going where?

To Paris. All the young men are going.

Yes, I know.

Aren't you eating?

The tomatoes are done your favorite way.

I'm not hungry. What about you?

I'll eat after you. You're the man of the house.

What would your father say if he saw a woman at the table?

Those old customs are out of date. Please sit down.

I'm too old to change my ways.

Why aren't you eating?

Afraid to tell me you're going to Paris?

No, I'm not going.

I'm glad you're being sensible.

Where does all this agitation get you?

Struggling against richer, stronger, better armed people.

You've bitten off more than you can chew.

Believe me, there'll always be rich and poor.

Your friends can't change that.

Why don't you eat?

- Is something else the matter? - Yes.

It's because of that Marie.

- What's wrong with Clémence? - Are you blind?

Trust men to go searching for what's under their nose.

What's that Marie done? Run off again?

Yes, but I don't care.

Gone off with your money?

No, I gave it to her to buy a shop.

Now I've got debts.

And the battalion won't take debtors.

All my friends are going,

Arnaud, Cuculière, Garnier,

Moissant, Ardisson, the pick of the town.

They're like brothers to me and I'm staying behind.

They'll be in the thick of things in Paris

because things are going to happen there.

And I've got to stay and eat my heart out here.

Looking at the same old roofs.

The same streets, the same little bit of sea.

I've looked at them so long, I don't notice them.

Well, listen, it's very simple.

Just write to your uncle at Cassis.

Tell him to sell the vineyard for us.

He's got money, he might buy it himself.

You're head of the family, you can do as you like.

Thank you, Mom!

I'll volunteer at once.

I must be quick, they're only taking 500.

Please, shut the window.

Do you agree to the conditions of engagement?

Do you swear you have no debts?

Give me the quill!

I've come to enlist.

Quiet!

- Your certificates? - Here.

Why haven't you enlisted already?

I was held up.

Me, too. I was at Avignon.

They commissioned a painting of Brutus killing Caesar.

Forward.

With 1,500 citizens in Roman costume,

all clearly recognizable.

We're just in time. They've got 450 already.

If they were less fussy, they could have 100,000.

Forward.

- What's that? - I don't know.

A banquet in honor of the Montpellier delegation.

They say their battalion is ready to march.

Pity we can't go with them.

I hear that near Tarascon,

there's an army of 50,000 aristos led by priests.

- Priests? - Yes, refractory priests.

- Think there are really 50,000? - At least.

Move on.

Don't close the door. Let's listen.

The day of glory has arrived

Who's singing?

Mireur, of Montpellier.

- What's the song? - I don't know.

Come on, move.

Bloody standard is raised

Listen to the sound in the fields

- Farewell, Bomier. - Farewell, Javel.

- Next. - Jean-Joseph Bomier.

- Certificates? - Here they are.

Can you swear your family is well-provided, without debts?

I swear it on the nation!

- Arnaud! Bomier signed up! - Cuculière! I'm glad to see you.

I was sure you'd come.

Your signature, citizen. What are you waiting for?

Water our furrows

Mireur's song wasn't bad but it wasn't all that good.

Go to the right!

What does it mean:

"To arms, citizens, form battalions"?

They make it difficult for citizens to form battalions,

if they are poor or in debt.

You've got it all wrong.

Well, I don't know. It's a funny revolution.

Only citizens who pay taxes

can serve their country.

Give the revolution time, it's in its infancy.

The rich started it, but the poor will finish it.

But when?

I don't know. We might not live to see it.

Where does Mireur's song come from?

He heard a workers choir sing it in Montpellier.

They say a Jewish pedlar heard it in Strasbourg.

The Rhine Army War Song.

Who made it up? The pedlar or the Rhine soldiers?

A sapper officer called Des Isles, or De l'Isle.

- Where's he from? - I don't know.

Not from the south.

His song smells of the north.

There's something brash about it I don't like.

What do you like, then?

I'm no musician,

but I think a song should follow the rules of harmony.

That's aristocrat stuff, your rules of harmony.

Well, that song bowled me over.

It's like... an echo of my own thoughts.

I don't know what you see in it.

It's a craze. Everyone will forget it in two weeks.

To arms, citizens

Form your battalions

March, march

Let impure blood

Water our furrows

Drive on sacred patriotism

Support our avenging arms

Liberty, cherished liberty

Join the struggle with your defenders

Fight with your defenders

Under our flags let victory

Hurry to your manly tone

So that in death your enemies

See your triumph and our glory!

You're singing?

I'm just singing because everyone else is!

Fall in!

Fall in! Attention!

So long, Rosette.

I'll plant it along the way!

- Do you understand? - Yes.

All right, let's try it. Two, three.

This band of slaves...

This horde!

Band, horde, I don't see any difference.

Careful now. One, two, three.

This horde of slaves

Will conjugate the tyrant

Subjugate, damn it!

Subjugate, conjugate...

It's full of unpronounceable words. I give up!

Commandant, I am the Dean of this town.

I shall pray for the success of your enterprise.

You see the priest speaking to Moissant?

The vanguard of the army of reaction.

His poisonous tongue is worse than the siren's song.

Javel, you're a hopeless pessimist.

A man isn't reactionary because he wears a cassock.

Don't forget how priests have helped the Revolution.

Loading is executed in 12 movements.

Cool, calm loading makes the best soldier.

Hurried movements will result in spilled powder.

One: hold the weapon exactly like this.

Right hand holding the small of the butt.

Two: open the pan.

Three: take the cartridge.

Four: tear open the cartridge.

Five: prime just enough powder to fill the pan.

Remember, an effective shot depends on this.

Spilled powder doesn't help to fire the bullet.

Nip cartridge paper between thumb and forefinger.

Six: close the pan.

Seven: order arms on the left.

Eight: cartridge in the barrel.

Nine: withdraw the ramrod, avoid bending it.

Ten: ram the charge firmly home.

Eleven: replace the ramrod.

Twelve: shoulder arms.

A pair of rommy boots, packed out with straw,

and your feet will get to Paris fresh as roses.

Paper is better than straw.

If only newspaper were cheaper.

That's a lot of rubbish. Nice soft tallow is best.

Rub it between your toes,

and your feet will take wing.

I've found some kindling wood like we use in Marseilles.

We had one revolutionary only, my nephew.

He had to go off secretly to Paris.

Will you give him two messages?

Where will I find him?

In Paris, of course. He's Jules Besson.

You can't miss him. He's fair-headed, with freckles.

All right, what are the messages?

I want you to give him 20 francs.

When you've dealt with Monsieur Veto,

I want him to eat well before tackling the Austrians.

All right, I promise. And the other?

Teach him that song of the Marseillais you sing.

The Rhine Army Song? Do you like it that much?

We'll remember it as the song of the Marseillais.

I'll teach him it, I promise.

I like best the couplet a schoolmaster wrote in our honor:

"We'll replace our parents on the battlefield."

Arnaud, do you want some fried pork?

You should have seen all the kids declaiming his verses.

In front of the temple of Augustus and Livia.

Give me some pig.

There, my lord.

My friends, it was wonderful.

I'll do a picture of it, I've got the title:

"France of tomorrow confronting the ruins of Ancient Rome."

Why are we waiting here?

They say a cannon fell in a ditch.

A cannon in a ditch?

A likely story. They're just trying to cheer us up.

What do you think?

I think we're facing the priestly army.

We're sitting happily here,

and suddenly, they'll launch a surprise attack!

A cannon in a ditch, that's a big joke.

Or else it's a big ditch.

An aristocratic ditch.

Truer than you think.

They don't maintain the roads in this royalist district.

They pretend it's impossible since forced labor was ended.

It's all part of their usual tactic.

Pretending revolutionary decrees disrupt public life.

Arnaud, you've torn your trousers. I'll mend them.

If we have to move, I'll be a sansculotte.

And I'll do a painting of you!

And we'll never be in the painting!

- Let it roll! - Sergeant!

Massugue will lead the vanguard.

Yes, sir.

The wheels are damaged but the gun's all right.

If we look after it, it will look after us.

What will they say to our Marseillais song in Paris?

Moissant's idea that we should sing it could be dangerous.

Nonsense. Remember what I've always said:

this song will unite all the Frenchmen.

It will be like a new Federation.

When the Parisians hear those magnificent words,

they'll join in and sing with the rest of us.

The frightened queen goes back to her Danube...

To the Croats.

Yes, to the Croats.

The king withdraws his veto, recalls patriot ministers,

and in two weeks, we'll be eating sauerkraut in Vienna,

capital of Austria!

Croats eat nothing but candles, ignoramus!

Listen, Bomier,

didn't you say that song was nothing but a craze?

I said that? When? Where?

The last time we went fishing, Monsieur Bomier.

Yes, Monsieur Arnaud,

I remember quite well.

I said it was like the echo of my own thoughts.

Heave-ho, shipmates, hoist the mainsail

Heave-ho, everyone lend a hand

Heave and heave away

Or else, you'll get an empty plate

They've sailed together for seven years

Without recognizing each other

They've sailed together for seven years

And recognize each other upon landing

At long last, love reunites us

We'll soon get married

And spend the money we've earned

To pay for the wedding and the furnishing

How many days have we been on the march?

Twenty-one.

It feels like a century, at least.

We'll soon be there.

Heave-ho, shipmates, hoist the mainsail

Maybe they've had a counter-revolution by now.

You think?

You don't think Robespierre will be welcoming us, do you?

More likely the Emperor of Austria with a holy army.

And there aren't any mountains to hide in.

Remember those days with Chamois? Those were the days.

What is happening in Paris?

STRONG AND UNITED

Where are the Dauphinois?

I've lost the Dauphinois!

Are you sure you haven't lost your head?

Make room for the Breton federates!

Clear the platform, it's reserved for Breton federates.

Is that equality?

Why Bretons on the platform and not me?

Why you and not the Bretons?

A fine thing if everyone was like you.

Our brothers have left their homes to save the country.

HERE LIES THE BASTILLE

HONOR TO THE MARSEILLAIS

Long live the Marseillais!

Bloody standard is raised

Listen to the sound in the fields

The howling of these fearsome soldiers

They are coming into our midst

To cut the throats Of your sons and consorts

To arms, citizens

Form your battalions

March, march

Let impure blood

Water our furrows

It's not a painting, it's a fresco!

What about me?

I want another one!

It's only natural, isn't it?

Good wine, citizen.

From my vineyard nearby.

One more.

Where's Robespierre?

You can always find him at the Jacobin Club.

We've arranged a banquet in a Champs-Élysées café.

We fraternally invite you and your staff.

Your invitation strikes straight to our hearts. We'll be there.

You have the sun in Paris, too.

You can't imagine, citizen,

the enthusiasm we met on our way.

So it was a good journey?

Indeed, we saw wonderful countryside.

Tomatoes, like I'd never seen outside of Marseilles.

So that's the Champs-Élysées? What a funny name!

Elysian Fields, resting place of dead Grecian heroes.

I can't see any dead.

Well, look at those waiting for us by the café.

I don't know if they're dead, but they're from the other world.

There they are!

Down with the Marseillais!

Come on, everyone!

Come on! String up the democrats!

Come on! We'll get the democrats!

They're aristocrats.

Pay no attention. It's just provocation.

TO FRIENDS OF THE CONSTITUTION

Don't answer back, comrades. Keep calm and orderly.

Come and eat, citizen.

I'll have love apples.

- What's that? - Tomatoes, of course.

Tomatoes?

We want to see the Marseillais!

There they are, eating.

String up the Marseillais!

Watch our feet.

That will do!

Incredible! The rabble invade even the Champs-Élysées.

- Long live the nation! - No, long live the king!

Come and help us, Marseillais!

- Oh, well, they asked for it. - He's right!

We'd better go. I'll escort you.

We live too far away, at Faubourg Saint-Antoine.

It doesn't matter.

I can't leave you unprotected.

Paris seems more infested with brigands than the forests.

Stop, citizen! I'll drop my guard.

Just one question:

why are we fighting?

We both wear the National Guard uniform.

You're a Republican. I'm a partisan of order.

If you're a partisan of order, why ruin our banquet?

Your banquet? Defend yourself, miserable anarchist!

We're coming!

Bandit!

Tell your master

we won't throw him in a little pond,

he'll go into Marseilles harbor, with the sharks!

To me, aristocrats!

To my cudgel, aristocrats!

- Take your jacket. - I don't need it.

Does it often rain like this in Paris?

It does.

Umbrella-sellers must make a fortune.

- What about Marseilles? - It never rains there.

There's a cab.

You're mad, we can't afford it.

I'll take care of it. We're rolling in money in Marseilles.

Wait, I'll hail it. Cab!

Open the gate!

I wonder what sort of bird will hatch out of this egg?

What do you think?

Monsieur Leroux?

Sire, I fear it may be no bird, but a dangerous reptile.

What do you know about it?

Permit me to recall phrases addressed by this Brunswick,

commander-in-chief of the armies invading France,

to the people in the names of Austria and France

and, more seriously, in my name.

"Inhabitants of cities and villages

opposing troops of their Imperial and Royal Majesties...

will be punished according to strict rules of war

and their houses burned or demolished."

It is somewhat shocking

to find our person cited in a manifesto

containing such threats against our subjects.

Malicious tongues will not fail to draw comparisons,

ill-calculated to increase our popularity.

"The inhabitants of Paris, without exceptions,

shall be required to submit to the king...

To hold personally responsible members of the Assembly

the Departments and Regions..."

Everybody, in fact!

"Should the Tuileries Palace be attacked,

exemplary and unforgettable vengeance will be exacted

by submitting the city to a terrible and total subversion."

Subversion? A curious word.

Unfortunately, it states clearly what it means.

You informed me, Madame,

that we might attribute this little literary masterpiece...

to Monsieur de Limon.

Former servant of my brother Provence, presently in exile.

Frankly, I do not care for his style.

Those behind him are the real authors of this manifesto.

They are waving torches close to a barrel of powder.

You know them?

Better than you think.

So the question arises...

shall we, yes or no,

communicate this manifesto to the Assembly, make it public?

Gentlemen, I ask you for your advice.

I have summoned you for this purpose.

Sire, this manifesto is the work of your most far-seeing friends.

Its publication will bring joy to all sensible people.

I apologize for referring to my private life,

but yesterday, my stockbroker and I discussed the war.

He said to me:

"I would rather see Prussians camping in Place Louis XV

and the French pound falling below zero

than have the elements of disorder encouraged by a victory."

Sire, I strongly urge the publication of this manifesto,

which will strike terror into your rebellious subjects.

Unless it transports them with fury.

This time, the stake is the very existence of the monarchy.

You are right, Leroux.

The stage is set for the last act of the tragedy.

I am inclined to ring up the curtain.

In war, the best defense is attack.

I am eager to resolve this false situation.

A king who cannot rule.

Subjects who are subjects but no longer obey.

A war we are obliged to wage against our natural allies,

our own relatives.

And those we call our enemies fight to save our persons.

This perpetual surrender,

these detestable compromises with men we hate,

these principles we consider to be blasphemy.

Let the revolt come! Quickly! Let them attack the palace!

This time we are ready, Monsieur de La Chesnaye tells me.

We can count on the loyalty of the Swiss and our gentlemen.

The best elements of the army are with us.

Revolutionaries may enter the palace,

but will not leave alive.

As with us, it is the most active elements,

I do not venture to pay the best who will instinctively lead them.

So this extermination will end the whole sinister drama.

The difficulty is that we, too, are actors in this drama,

which is obviously less convenient than being spectators.

Our cousin of Austria has the best of it.

What does he risk? Not his head, anyway.

And what a happy prospect for this young braggart

to arrive in Paris as conquering hero,

and so play the deus ex machina.

Most distressing of all, I shall have to invite him to the hunt.

What is wrong with that?

He shoots so badly.

I have it from his late Majesty, your brother,

and from his minister Kaunitz, who opposes this war.

How can you believe a person who cleans his teeth

every day, and in public, too?

I am sure this strange custom is excellent for the health.

We wash our hands, why not our teeth?

If I were not presently so preoccupied,

I would be pleased to try this brushing.

In any case, my nephew the Emperor shoots well.

He shoots badly. Hunting is a lost art today.

Beaters set the game up like a game of skittles.

Sire, you must have very small affection for me

to publicly abuse a member of my family.

Madame, I humbly beg your pardon. It is the hunt.

My passion for it makes me forget the proprieties.

Gentlemen,

have Brunswick's Manifesto put to the Assembly.

ASSEMBLY PROCEEDINGS 17TH JUNE - 4TH AUGUST 1792

JOURNAL OF THE REPUBLICANS

THE MARSEILLAIS IN PARIS

THE BRUNSWICK MANIFESTO

ACTS OF THE APOSTLES

THE FRENCH PATRIOTS 2ND AND 3RD OF AUGUST 1792

An insult! The Brunswick Manifesto arouses the Nation!

Beware, citizens, lest you be lulled by opiate-mongers.

Published by a group of men of letters.

All right-thinking people welcome the Brunswick manifesto.

Soon we shall throng to magnificent festivities.

DEDICATED TO THE NATION

AND PETITS AUGUSTINS DISTRICT

In the name of the Constitution

constantly evoked by King Louis XVI,

we now invoke it in turn to demand his deposition.

THE PEOPLE'S FRIEND,

PATRIOTIC, FREE AND IMPARTIAL.

FOR A SOCIETY OF PATRIOTS, EDITED BY M. MARAT

PARIS, 3RD AUGUST 1792

ASSEMBLY PROCEEDINGS OF 2ND AUGUST.

Brunswick's Manifesto and the king's accompanying letter.

France, long starved of grain and coin by royal monopolies,

troubled by traitors and counter-revolutionary officials,

torn by factions, betrayed by its generals,

is beset by 500,000 satellites

of despots in league with Louis XVI to replace our yoke.

The satellites are Austrians, Prussians and priests.

- Their audacious leader... - Brunswick!

- No, the Count d'Artois. - Excuse me.

The invader's general is the Duke of Brunswick.

Freemason and secret agent of the Pope.

Have it your way.

Their audacious leader, spurred on by the Tuileries,

demands that we submit to our former shackles.

What next?

My dear compatriots, wake up.

Hold hostage Louis XVI, his wife, his son,

his singers, all your faithless representatives.

The Nation seeks redress from these traitors

who must first be sacrificed to the public weal.

Then will come the banishment of the shameful Capets

and the punishment of all conspirators.

Signed: Priest of the People.

Long live Marat.

All the same, Capet's a funny name.

You're Bomier.

Why shouldn't the king's family be Capet?

Any news, Arnaud?

I've been with Garnier and the other delegates.

Let's take action and talk later.

Robespierre and the others haven't slept for two days.

There have been meetings everywhere.

Some people wanted to march at once.

Robespierre is against unprepared actions,

otherwise we'd all be fighting now.

The Mauconseil section

simply proclaimed the king's deposition.

In the end, what have we decided?

Yes, what have we decided?

If the king does not withdraw his veto,

or take suitable measures for National Defense,

we give the Assembly one week to depose him,

according to the Constitution.

But who is this "we"?

I haven't decided anything. Everyone says "we"!

Your representatives, the people you elected.

Members of the Central Committee of Federates,

in consultation with the revolutionary sections of Paris.

If the Assembly refuses?

Then we attack the palace.

In military terms, it's called ultimatum.

- Come on! Grub up! - You're in a hurry.

- Potatoes again! - Only a few.

That's the lot. They're all we had left.

Lot or not, I've had enough!

I refuse to eat roots.

I'm not a pig or a savage.

This precious tuber can be cooked in 20 different ways,

each more delicious than the last.

It generously provides us with flour, starch, medicine,

even an excellent brandy.

King Louis XVI himself,

a poor politician, but a shrewd trencherman,

feeds himself exclusively on potatoes.

If you don't like them, Bomier, give them to me.

I'll eat them as a revolutionary discipline.

If you'd rather eat something else,

the Assembly offers us 30 sous a day

if we'll leave Paris.

Thirty sous a day for leaving Paris,

that's not enough after that march.

Moissant was right to refuse.

So you sometimes agree with your leaders, Monsieur Bomier?

It happens, Monsieur Arnaud.

In that Assembly,

there are traitors who should be sent to the gallows.

Those 30 sous are offered by the Austrian Emperor.

That Brunswick's no fool. I bet I know what he said:

"François, those Marseillais will never let you into Paris."

Any salt?

As much as you like, now the Salt Tax is abolished.

Enough for me.

Today is the 3rd of August. Let's say one week.

By the 10th, those of us not dead of hunger

will have a chance to eat again.

FRENCH CHILDREN'S THEATER

Be seated, citizen.

They are the Marseillais!

Citizens,

the performance continues with King and Nation.

The king!

Long live the Nation!

Madame Nation

Come to my arms so I may embrace you

Monsieur King

It is impossible to come to your arms

The bridge between us is broken

And an abyss separates us

What is this abyss?

It is the manifesto of Brunswick!

So the day after tomorrow you prepare for action?

And on the 10th you enter the palace?

What are you doing on the 11th?

On the 11th, we leave for the frontier.

After the war,

will you go back to your mother in Marseilles?

No, I'd like to settle in Paris.

I'm a good mason.

My friends call me "Gamate."

Maybe you don't know what that is?

It is a little wooden gadget like this,

we masons use it to mix mortar.

Were you asleep?

No, I was dreaming.

Dreaming? You seem to dream a lot.

I don't understand you.

You've been courting Louison for weeks and haven't kissed her.

- I daren't. - Poor old man.

Don't be sorry for me.

I spend whole days in paradise.

Doing what?

Looking at her.

Today, I was fascinated by a fold behind her ear.

It's extremely pretty

and I love it very much.

I didn't see much else at the theater,

but it was nice all the same.

I really enjoyed myself.

If we ever get back from all this,

I'd like to marry her.

But maybe she won't have me.

Squad, attention!

Comrades,

our colleague Garnier,

delegate to the Central Committee,

sends word that our brothers in the Théâtre Français section

will give the warning signal.

It will be a cannon fired from Pont Saint-Michel.

Immediately, all patriot church bells will ring,

summoning all revolutionary citizens to arms.

Along with the forces of Théâtre Français,

Faubourg Saint-Marceau and Breton federates,

we'll go to the palace gates.

Before attacking, we'll wait for Santerre,

who'll bring reinforcements from other sections.

We must try to avoid a bloody action.

Revolutionaries should prefer words to battle.

We'll speak to the Swiss and French who defend a lost cause.

If they resist, you do your duty as mercifully as possible.

Let us tell ourselves that, whatever our personal fate,

tomorrow's sun will set on a France free of treason,

and ready to face the foreign invaders!

At ease!

I wish I could see Louison again.

We have two alternatives, Madame: attack or defense.

We defend. These are His Majesty's orders.

Then it's best to allow the gates to be forced.

Once the rebels are inside, a volley from our guns

should destroy the majority.

Should some survive, or our gunners be won over,

our best men occupy windows overlooking the yard,

in a position to effect a crippling fire.

We may expect with luck

few assailants to escape our trap alive.

We must keep right on our side.

By entering the yard, they will avow their insubordination.

Conduct me to His Majesty.

Make room for one of your own, gentlemen.

Make room, gentlemen.

Madame, we have the upper hand,

but all these people hinder the work of defense.

Sir, you speak out of turn. I answer for the gentlemen here.

Long live the queen!

They will march with you, however you order them.

They are prepared for any eventuality.

These are trusty men.

Long live the queen!

Sire, do you eat in such circumstances?

And why not?

The stomach is ignorant of the subtleties of politics.

I ordered tomatoes,

a vegetable much discussed since the Marseillais arrived.

I wished to taste it. Shall I give you my impression?

It is an excellent dish which we did wrong to neglect.

Sire, will you not review your troops?

It would be appropriate to rekindle their enthusiasm.

I have just so decided with these gentlemen.

Sire, your wig is askew.

Picard is upset today, he does everything askew.

Picard, thank you. I'll be back.

De La Chesnaye, Maillardoz, de Bateman,

Adjutant General Deneix, conduct me.

Long live the king!

O Richard

O my King

The universe abandons you

Only we are left

To care

For you

I alone in the universe

Would like to break your chains

While all the rest abandon you

Long live France!

Long live the king!

Long live the king!

Present arms!

What is His Majesty doing here?

Long live the Nation!

Down with the king! Down with the veto!

Yes, down with the veto!

Sire, this way.

Scum! I'll teach you manners!

Leave us alone!

Otherwise, as good citizens, we'll open the gate

and turn our guns to the palace!

Back, or I'll get you my saber in your belly!

I forbid you to insult my men. They answer to me!

Gentlemen.

Long live the Nation!

Please stop lolling on the ground, my son.

Rolling on carpets is a bad habit you must break.

My sister...

This wig askew bothers me.

Try to get it straight.

Sire, the Department of Paris, through my proxy,

would speak with you alone with your family.

Royal ministers must remain with His Majesty.

If the king desires!

Your Majesty's only safety

lies with the Assembly,

which alone commands the people's respect.

You must proceed there without delay.

We shall go.

Monsieur Roederer, you have won.

Madame, it is His Majesty's good judgment.

Will you answer for my brother's life?

With my own, Madame. I will walk before the king.

Are we alone, then? Can no one take action?

Yes, Madame, alone.

Action is useless, resistance impossible.

All of Paris is marching.

I beg Your Majesty to dispense with your Court.

Be escorted by members of the Department only,

who will surround the royal family.

As you wish.

Monsieur Roederer, may the ministers follow?

Yes, they have their place in the Assembly.

And Madame de Tourzel, my children's governess?

Certainly, Madame.

As for you, ladies, I cannot authorize you to leave here.

Permit me to give you some advice.

If the people invade the palace, thieves and assassins will join in.

But organized revolutionary groups will be there, too.

Avail yourselves of their protection.

The king and his family proceed alone to the Assembly,

escorted by the ministers, the Department and a guard.

Kindly make way.

The king has forsaken us. What shall we do?

Gentlemen, you may return to your posts.

Leave them again and I'll have you shot!

We should welcome the departure of His Majesty.

We no longer have to guard their royal persons

and are now free to conclude this affair.

This battle must be the last.

The time has come to conquer or die.

Let us pray we conquer.

So many leaves.

They are falling early this year.

Are you waiting for the deluge, Marseillais?

To the palace! Death to tyrants!

Why are we waiting?

Stuck here like rows of asparagus.

We look like silly turnips.

You're very anxious to fight, comrades.

You forgot the National Guard in there, honest citizens.

I'll not be the first to fire.

You're right.

Arnaud's right to remind us.

True.

The people in there, they too have fathers, mothers, uncles,

children, loved ones.

- Thinking of Louison? - Yes, I'm thinking of her.

We must take advantage of the situation!

Squad, attention!

Present arms!

Forward!

Join us, brothers!

Long live France!

Avoid bloodshed!

March with us!

He's right.

Don't defend a lost cause.

Embrace the people's party, your own.

If we listened we would be dishonored.

Lay down your arms and save your lives.

But if you fight, the consequences will be terrible.

Gentlemen, the time has come to do our duty.

Give the order to fire.

Didn't you hear what Arnaud said? Join us.

We are Swiss. As long as we live we never lay down our arms.

We do not deserve your insults.

We will not leave our posts or be disarmed!

In your place I'd leave my post,

and go back to your mountains, beyond Mont Blanc.

I know all about mountains, you know,

because Arnaud and me lived there for three months...

Are you hit?

Leave me! Save the ammunition.

You're hit?

Go on, leave me!

- I'm not going to leave you there! - Take this man away!

Attack!

Get out of the courtyard!

Long live France!

Long live France!

Halt!

Weapons ready!

Fire!

Forward!

HERE WE ARE PROUD TO HAVE THE TITLE OF CITIZEN

He's wounded.

This way!

Halt!

Weapons ready!

Fire!

Fix bayonets! Forward!

I'm sure she'll come here.

She's a real patriot.

At the Bastille, she was loading her father's gun.

How old is he?

Seven months.

He's a bonny child. Is he well?

He's cutting his tooth... he cries all night.

I feel like crying, too.

PETIT SAINT ANTOINE DISTRICT

Comrades, I think they need us.

Don't worry, you'll be all right.

Good-bye, brother.

When you get home,

greet the mountains for me.

- What about Bomier? - Bomier is wounded!

This way.

He's very low.

I think he's done for.

Don't tell him. Hold him in your arms and comfort him.

I shan't enter the palace.

Never go to the frontier.

I'll never see Marseilles again.

My poor mother.

She'll worry so much.

Tell our friends I spent that 20 francs

belonging to the freckled boy.

And I don't regret it.

Not at all.

Halt!

Weapons ready!

Fire!

To arms, citizens

Form your battalions

- No blindfold. - As you wish.

I am no citizen. I am Arnaud de Hoffenberg.

Fire!

Halt!

Move on, citizens.

Look.

LOOTER

Weapons ready!

Halt!

The Paris Commune, as sole representative of the people,

charges us, the Department of Paris,

to convey its decision to suspend execution of the Swiss,

the gentlemen and others guilty of firing on the people.

Those guilty will be referred to a special tribunal

of judges and juries elected by the Paris sections.

And the king?

He, too, will be tried.

The Assembly has proclaimed his provincial deposition

pending the meeting of a National Convention

elected by all Frenchmen, irrespective of their estate.

The Commune declares the country to be in peril,

and is prepared to take any measures.

My feet have never been so cold in my life.

How far away is this Valmy,

where we're supposed to find this Roussillon regiment?

It must be over there by the mill.

And the Prussians?

Just beyond.

- See that firing? - Yes.

They're fighting for the road.

What if they get it?

The Prussians will march on Paris.

The end of our Revolution.

Bomier will have died in vain.

No, not in vain.

Even if the Prussians wipe us out today,

they can't wipe out what we've given the world.

Before we arrived,

people just stared at liberty

like the lover forbidden to approach his beloved.

Now, thanks to us,

the lover embraces his beloved.

Of course, she's not yet his mistress,

and he'll have a hard time winning her over.

But even if they're parted, they know each other now,

and one day or another they'll be reunited.

Well, Javel, what do you say?

I say that the 20,000 slaves

and 5,000 traitors facing us over there

will never defeat 20 million free men.

Long live Liberty!

At Valmy the French resisted every attack

of the famous Prussian infantry.

The great German poet Goethe was present at their victory.

His commentary will serve as a full stop to this tale.

"At that time and place a new era began

for the history of the world."