All language subtitles for The Bakers Wife-1938

In THE BAKER'S WIFE

a film by Marcel Pagnol
based on a story by Jean Giono

- Good morning, Teacher!
- Hail, Pétugue! All well?

Very good, thank you, Teacher.

- I wanted to ask you a favour.
- Go ahead.

You know Casimir the tobacconist
who runs the Circle?

Yes, and so?

So, he needs to be told
there's a dead dog in his well.

The Circle's well.
Cassette saw it fall in.

If he isn't told he'll serve us
that water on Sunday. He must be told.

- Why didn't Cassotte say?
- He can't.

They had a fight 2O years ago,
in the army, and they fell out.

But he goes to the Circle on Sundays.

But he talks to the waitress, not him.
Like me.

I don't speak to Casimir either.

- Why?
- It goes back a long way.

My dad and his dad didn't speak.

And my granddad and his
were already not speaking.

And mine didn't know why
- it went even further back.

He thought it had to be serious.

A good reason.

Village of idiots.

No, Teacher!

It's just a village
where people have their pride.

Half a dozen of you,
none of you speaking.

But we see each other.

At the Circle, or in the choir
- but we don't speak.

All right, I'll warn Casimir,
but first

I'll try the new bakery.

Is it opening today?

The first batch should be ready at 11.

So I'll give the mule his water

and go there too.

- And I'll warn Casimir.
- Right!

Say, Teacher,

don't tell him I told you.

People will talk and I'll be judged.

Hey, Barnabé!

- Hey, Barnabé!
- What?

Listen to me.
Your three elms are no use.

They're just by your field.
So why not prune them?

It'd be good firewood.

Yes but they're mine, on my land.
I'll cut them if I want to.

You can't make me
prune the trees on my land!

Yes, all right, they're on your land.

But their shadow is on my garden!

Those trees are badly placed.

In the middle of my vegetable patch.
So all year long

from morning to evening
that shadow falls on my vegetables!

Those trees eat up my sun.
And you can't eat people's sun.

He isn't wrong.

Listen, Barnabé.

It isn't your fault,
but your trees are badly placed.

Maybe his garden is badly placed!

What if I complained
that I have superb trees

but I can't sit in their shade,
in his garden?

Is the shade of those trees is mine
or isn't it?

Yes, it is! And since it is,
kindly remove it from me!

He's not wrong, you know.

I get it. I should move the sun, yes?

He wants you to prune your trees.
It is his right.

Rights, huh! So he has all the rights?

No, but I do have the right to live!

Hey, Casimir, this year
I sowed some giant spinach.

Well, you should see my giant spinach.

It's no higher than the grass!

So grow watercress or whatever

but no one's touching my trees!

Is that so? We'll go to the judge!

I'm not talking to you!

Oh now, Antonio, come on...

Leave it. Do you think I care?

Let him do as he likes.
Let him never speak to me again

and if you see me talking to him

you can spit in my face.

Really! Antonio, come here.

I have something serious to say.

The other day,
the day before yesterday in fact,

you gave a lesson on Joan of Arc.

- Not much fun but it's on the syllabus.
- Very well.

In doing so you said,

in front of children,
the following sentence:

"Joan of Arc
was a shepherdess from Domrémy.

"One day as she was watching her sheep

"she thought she heard voices."

- That is what you said?
- Just exactly that.

Do you realise the responsibility
you took in saying, "Thought she heard"?

I realise that in fact
I avoided taking any responsibility.

I said she thought she heard voices;
in other words,

she may well think
she heard them clearly

but I don't know that.

- You don't?
- Well no, vicar, I wasn't there.

- You weren't there?
- In 1431, I wasn't even born.

Don't try to get out of it like that!

You can't say,
"Thought she heard voices."

You can't deny historical fact!

You must say,
"Joan of Arc heard voices."

But it's very dangerous to assert
such things, even historical facts!

I seem to remember
that when Joan,

before a court
presided by a bishop named Cauchon,

declared that she had heard voices,
Cauchon condemned her to be burnt alive.

Which was done in Rouen,
in the market square.

And since she was combustible,
voices or not,

it killed the poor shepherdess.

An answer in language
worthy of a reader of the local rag!

I can see, sir, there is no hope
with such a limited and crude mind.

This conversation was useless,
and I would never have guessed

you could show such bad faith.

You're furious because you believe
Joan of Arc is yours but tell me, Vicar,

- you stray into my territory too.
- What?

You said at Sunday school I was wrong:

there are four,
not three, natural kingdoms.

Quite so: plant, mineral, animal...

and human! Scientifically proven.

Yes: that the human kingdom
is an absurdity!

- So you're an animal?
- No doubt about it.

With your breadth of knowledge,
you must be right about yourself.

I will then leave without goodbyes
since you are an animal.

Who do you think you are?

Vade retro, Satanas!

Go and hide, you traitor

So, does it look good?

It's coming.
The teacher has gone to have a look.

So?

Well, I'm no baker

but I would say the man knows his job
and makes good bread.

- Is it out of the oven?
- In 10 minutes.

- Who knows if it'll be good?
- And why would it be bad?

We're not saying it will be bad.

It's just, there's bread and bread.

The one before you, Angel,

who hanged himself in the cellar...

Let's go over here.

Don't say that in front of my wife!

If she knew he hanged himself

she'd be afraid

and wouldn't want to stay.

- So not a word.
- Not a word.

Not a word.

Not a word.

Mum's the word.

But what did he do,
when he wasn't hanging himself?

He made bread!
Except his bread was never the same.

Very good or inedible.

Especially Sundays,
'cos he drank on Saturday.

So he didn't know what he was doing,
kneading it.

We once found a cigar butt in it!

One Sunday it tasted of pastis.

The kids loved it!

- You put up with it?
- What could we do?

- Go elsewhere.
- We did, for a long time.

Twelve kilometres and more,
on mountain roads.

We bought a week's worth.

But after a few days,
it was so hard it broke our teeth.

And Angel's bread wasn't always good,
but it was here.

And where am I?

He's right. Let's wait and see
before judging.

- Where did you work before?
- Me, Madame?

- Miss.
- Miss, sorry. I was in Valensole.

Then Banon.
There's competition, you know.

Three of us. It was a real town,
not a village, with connoisseurs.

And they didn't want your bread!

No, my wife doesn't like the cold.

It's too high there,
here it's lower.

And when I left,

The connoisseurs said,
"Baker, we'll miss you."

And you can be a good baker

without being a carnivorous monster.

Well said, Baker!

Have you got something against me?

I'm not speaking to you.

Are they not speaking?

Never! They're idiots.

But I'm not speaking to them.

- Why not.
- Don't let's start!

That's not important.
The main thing is you making good bread.

And if it's as good-looking
as your wife...

As good-looking as my wife?

You're a funny one!

That's a laugh!

I don't know if that's ever been done!

You're right, Baker.

She's not bad, is she?

Is she, now?

No denying it.

Tell me, Teacher,
my wife isn't bad-looking, is she?

Well, if she tried in a dark street
to kiss me hard on the mouth

I wouldn't complain!

She might you, not me!

Listen here.

If my bread is half as good-looking,
will that do?

I understand.

I myself would like bread
to look like bread.

For women's beauty
wilts like that of a flower.

And old beetroot
are in no danger of wilting.

She is good-looking.

You bet she is!

I'm very happy to hear you say that.

And you haven't seen her
in her Sunday best!

Or at night, when she
gets ready for bed, now that's...

Aimable! The bread's ready!

Modest, too. She doesn't like
to be talked about. The bread.

Here's everybody.

Yep.

One more minute won't hurt.

Excuse me. Excuse me.

Ah, there's the marquis.

Good morning, Mrs. Baker!

I, Madam,
am the Marquis of Venelles.

Squadron leader, retired

but cheeky chappie in activity.

That is to say I'm very susceptible
to your bright face

and I'm deeply grateful to you

for being so lovely.

This being said, here is my shepherd.

Come here. His name is Dominique.

He'll come Wednesdays and Saturdays,
with the bag you see,

to collect thirty loaves.

So, Baker, you will have to make them

twice a week, on
top of your daily batch.

And on Saturdays, if you have
a dozen croissants and brioches

I hope that this goddess

will not have any problem
putting them in my bag.

- Yes, Sir.
- My Lord.

Very well, My Lord.

I talk of pastries

because in my castle,
which in fact is a farm

but made into a castle
just by my presence,

I generally host
three or four women of easy virtue

whom I keep in rustic luxury

to give me pleasure in my old age

and debauch my shepherds.

- Absolutely, my Lord.
- Ah no,

not absolutely.
That's not what the vicar thinks.

As for your bill,
he will pay it every Saturday.

Very well.

One practical detail:

Since 30 loaves
will take at least 10 minutes,

Dominique will come at midday
so others don't wait.

Today, he will have to wait.

Dominique,
stand in that corner and wait.

Ah, my Lord, I think that's it.

- Smells nice.
- Just wait.

It's well cooked.

Oh, what a lovely cat!

- Is it yours?
- Yes, that's Pompon.

You know,
there has to be one in a bakery

or the rats would eat all the profits.

Pompon - and his mate, Pomponette -
save at least 10 kilos of flour a day!

So you have the female too?

Er, yes, that is to say...

I did have, but she's been missing
for three days.

Careful she doesn't go in the pot.

What?

- What does that mean? It's unthinkable!
- No, Baker!

We don't know what to do
with all our hares here.

We won't eat your cat.

Actually, I know why she left.

I heard her last night, on the roof.

She'll be back when she's over it.

- What's your name?
- Aimable Castagnet.

Oh, that's charming!

The poet said,

- but that's not important now.
- So much the better.

Excuse me, excuse me.

Excuse me. Excuse me...

Madam,
the bread touched by your lovely hands

will be received like a present.

Goodbye, Aimable baker.

Goodbye, my Lord.

Let me through, please.

Very distinguished. And 30 kilos...

- Good morning, Vicar!
- Good morning, my Lord!

Well, Vicar, we have a baker.

And what's more, he's called Aimable.

Saint Aimable - or Saint Amable -

was a great saint
who lived around the year 742.

His morals were remarkably austere,

and if he'd been our vicar
he wouldn't have stood

a parishioner of his
living with several women

like a Mormon.

- Oh, Vicar, they're my nieces.
- You forget I'm your confessor.

If you can't forget that,
we cannot have a down-to-earth talk.

I tell everyone they're my nieces.

And no one believes you!

You set a very dangerous example.

No, Vicar. Debauchery is not a vice
that comes for free.

Dangerous examples
are the ones that anyone can afford.

Sins that require an allowance

are only for those of private means.

And here they're all farmers.

And against my dangerous example,

poverty takes the place of virtue.

Appalling blasphemy!

Thank you.

- Nice, isn't it Casimir?
- I'm hungryjust seeing it!

Oh, sorry, Céleste.
The vicar's servant mustn't wait!

Thank you Casimir. There.

I couldn't wait to get my hands on it!

Shepherd,

come here.

Open your bag.

One...

two...

three...

four...

Madame Céleste,
here's some important news.

His lordship will eat here tomorrow.

- Will he be on his own, at least?
- Céleste!

It's because
if you invite that miscreant,

he may very well bring all his nieces!

Well, what will the poor little things
do without their uncle?

Céleste, malicious gossip is a sin too.

And his lordship,
as mayor of the village,

can get our church roof mended
so the rain doesn't come in.

You see,
my invitation isn't entirely unselfish.

And Celeste, it seems essential
that we give him a good meal.

Very well.

Lucky we have fresh bread!

Look at that, Vicar.

Oh, wonderful, fresh bread.

Good day, wasn't it?

It was the first, of course.
But 683 francs

in a little village like this:
it's promising.

But some things I don't get.

The farmers charge a lot for their wheat
but want cheap bread.

It doesn't add up.

If a kilo of bread is 1.50 Fr,

then flour is 2.30 at least.

There's the miller, his equipment,
the motor, the bran and the middlings.

You can't make bread with bran,
let alone middlings.

So I have to sell it

for at least 2.70.

How can I make that work?

- What?
- Nothing.

No, you're right,
there's nothing to say.

Because with four sous' profit per kilo,

I have to pay my rent...

It isn't a lot but I do have to pay it.

I have to pay my taxes, heat my oven,
feed myself, feed my wife...

And no children!

If we had children,

what would we do?

No, there's no way I'll manage.
And yet...

Are you asleep?

Tired from work?

Isn't she lovely, though?

And only ever thinks about work.

That's right.

Damn!

Lilie!

My god, ear this.

Isn't that nice of them?

They've come to serenade us.

I made them some good bread

so they're thanking us
in their own way.

Oh, isn't that nice?

It's a shame they sing in Piedmontese.
Or Corsican.

Or Arabic.

But no matter,
it's the thought that counts.

That's nice.

I think it's the 30-kilo shepherd.

Don't go away, shepherd!

You see, they're singing to us,
we must give them something. Custom.

A pie or a pasty
with a bottle of wine?

There's some of that pasty left,
you know?

- I'll give them that.
- I'll go!

Oh, yes, you go.
It'll be more graceful if it's you.

They're singing for you.

You served them nicely
and they've come to thank you.

Thank you, thank you!

It was very nice of you to come.

Hey, you, singer!

Go into the shop.
My wife has a little gift for you.

A present from the baker
and his wife. In you go!

So, my bread is nice is it?

It certainly is!
Make it like that every day.

Well, I'll try.

And I hope I'll succeed.

After, you can taste
what my wife is giving your singer.

Tell me if it's nice.

Will there be enough?

Oh I'm sure there will
for the three of you.

He's been in there a while,
maybe he's eating it all.

Oh goodness, well...

Aurélie!

If you don't switch the lights on
you won't find it!.

Shall I come down?

Actually, baker,
I don't think we need you.

Go back to bed,
you'll catch cold!

I don't get cold,
and anyway I'll be up again soon.

I have to get up to knead

because bread is eaten in the day
but made at night.

- Baker?
- Who's that, then?

It's Tonin, from Gravat farm.
I'm going hunting tomorrow.

So what?

So I'll bring you two dozen anchovies
to make a pasty.

- Oh, okay. Will you soak them?
- Yes, they're ready.

Well go in and put them on the scales.

What time do you want it?

Four-ish.

Okay, will do.

Hey, there's no light.

Aurélie? Can't you find the button?

Ah, she's found it!

Well, thank you.

She gave me this.

Lovely.

Madame Aurélie, these are anchovies.

Aimable said to put them here.

Tell him I don't like it overcooked.

- Coming, Dominique?
- Yes, I'm coming.

Well then... Goodbye.

Goodbye, shepherd.

Don't bother, Madame Aurélie,
you'll catch cold like that.

I'll shut the shutters.

Your husband,

he's a good man.

- Goodbye, baker.
- Thank you, baker.

You're welcome, shepherd.
Aurélie!

- You didn't catch cold, did you?
- No.

- Did you give it to him nicely?
- Yes.

_ SO the ' y F - Yes! e happy?

Well, I'll lie back down.

After this morning,
you must have thought of it.

Not so fast, though.

You're making it all up.

No, I'm not.
I'd barely gone into the darkness

when I heard a noise like cloth

and then deep breathing.

Then two hands round my neck,
then she bit my mouth.

She never!

Here, touch my heart.

Going like a hammer.

Getting in that state
for a woman like that!

A woman like that?
I've never seen a woman like that

even in my dreams.

You're not serious.

You only met her this morning,
and tonight she chews your chops.

It can't be the first time for her.

- Why not?
- If it's true, why not all of us?

Don't ever say things like that!
Liar!

Do and I'll maim you for life!

Stop! What's got into you?

I saw it suddenly in her face,
this morning.

She truly loves me.
And do you know what she said?

She said, "if you're a man,

"be behind the church at 5 o'clock,

"with a horse,
and take me where you will."

She'll leave her husband,
his money, his bread.

She'll abandon it all for me!
At 5 o'clock, behind the church.

- Will you go?
- I don't know. I think so.

- Where will you take her?
- I don't know.

Give us the pasty, so we can taste it.

What time it is'?

It's just four o'clock.

So you see,
while my first batch is cooking

I sleep for another hour.
Then at 6.30 my wife comes down

and wakes me up.
So I take out my first batch

and put the second one in
for 10 o'clock.

Where are you hunting?

In the fields beside the marsh.

Full of hare -
I'd be amazed not to bring any back.

There, does that look all right?

That's exactly it!

- Lightly golden. Shall I take it out?
- Yes, do.

Don't touch, you fool,
you'll burn yourself.

There. This way
it'll keep your bottom warm.

There's a little morning breeze,
so that'll be fine for me.

What do I owe you?

It's the first time,
a little thank you will do.

That's kind. Tell you what,
I'll buy you a drink at lunchtime.

Oh, no, I never drink before meals.

Not even wine at table,
'cos it goes to my head.

Oh, well...

So baker,
shall I bring you back two thrushes?

You give me your baking,
I'll give you my hunting.

Here, goodbye baker.
I must go, day will be breaking.

Come on, Suffering.

Why do you call him Suffering?

When I found him he was very small,

mangy, with a broken paw.

Suffering was what he was.

There's a good boy.

- Now he's handsome.
- Now he's mine and I take care of him.

- Good boy.
- Off we go!

I reckon
you're going to have good weather.

Say something for luck.

- Well, break a leg.
- Thank you.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

You should think some more.

Think'?

I can't. I can't any more.
I must leave, with her.

I can't wait another two minutes.

I must touch her, I must see her,

I must smell her smell.

She's put fire in my blood.

Thinking of her makes me tremble.

- Do you think she'll come?
- She's as mad as me!

What time is it?

Twenty short of five.

- Will you take care of Duke?
- Of course.

Goodbye Duke.
What's happening to me,

happened to you last year too.

When you came back, I beat you.
I didn't know.

In God's name!
He's set the blessed oven on fire!

Baker!

Baker!

Baker!

Open the door!

Well, now.

Look at that!

Well, that batch is gone,
and on a Sunday too.

Did you fall asleep?

It's not so much that
as I didn't wake up.

Oh, it'll soon be fixed.

It'll be two hours late
- the second batch is there.

My wife wakes me up, see.

But moving in was tiring.

She's tired, that's all.
She must be sleeping like a baby.

What can I say?

I'll announce this disaster

all gently, so as not to upset her.

That one's certainly cooked.

I'll go and wake my sweetheart
with a coffee.

Sweetheart?

Here's a coffee for you.

Nice and hot.

You forgot to wake me up.

But never mind, I woke up on my own.

We should buy an alarm clock.

That way you can get up a bit later.

Sleep a bit more.

Drink up your coffee, darling,
it'll get cold.

Hang on, I'll go and open the shutters.

Come on, now, wake up lazybones!

It's a joke.

Aurélie!

Aurélie!

What's this? Where's she hiding?
She's having a joke.

Aurélie!

Will there be any before midday?

Yes, love, I'll help him out if need be!

Aurélie!

Aurélie!

That's funny.

My wife's having a joke.

* Really?
' Yes!

- She's hiding.
- Where?

I've no idea.

I left her in bed at 2 o'clock
and now there's only the bolster.

That is a bit funny.

What are these keys?

They're hers.

Oh I know where she went.
She went to the garden.

She hadn't seen the garden yet.

So she went out without waking me

and left her keys
in case I needed to get something

in the wardrobe or the chest of drawers,
she was in the garden...

She really likes the garden.

Neighbour, can you look after the shop
for five minutes?

And I'll come back with her.

Right.

You will if you find her!

- Where do you think she is?
- I'll speak no ill.

But with that rouge, and that powder,

she's a bit of a creature.

And in four days,
maybe she's found an admirer.

My God,
I hope my husband really went hunting!

Don't worry about your husband!
He's not her type.

No, she's maybe found herself
a handsome man like Patrice

or maybe his lordship, the cheeky thing.

Yes. And right now,

they're being nice to each other
at the back of a barn.

I won't be surprised
if she has straw on her back!

Hey, Grandad!

Hey, Grandad!

What?

Have you seen my wife?

What?

Have you seen my wife?

Your wife? Have I seen her?

Yes!

No, I haven't seen her.
I don't know her.

I didn't know you were married.

Haven't you seen a woman here?

Yes, one came through this morning.
She was gathering snails.

A big old woman with a bit of a beard.

- Surely she's not your wife?
- No, that isn't her.

So, you're married
and you don't know where your wife is?

Yes, I do. She's gone to mass.

I just thought she'd come through here
on her way there.

No. No, she didn't.

Thank you!

Well, maybe she isn't in church at all.

Fancy getting married
when you're a baker!

Aurélie!

What's that hat?

Sorry, Vicar. I'm looking for my wife.
She left two hours ago.

She's not in the garden,
so I thought with luck here.

"With luck" is right:
I've never seen her.

But, Vicar, we've only been here
for five days.

So there haven't been any Sundays.

And she'll probably come today.

A woman who "probably" comes to mass
"probably" doesn't come at 7 AM!

Ah no, Vicar, in Banon
she used to go every day at 6.30

while I made my second batch.

She didn't go to mass
so everyone would see her, no.

She'd hide behind a pillar,
so well hidden that no one ever saw her.

So I think today...

If she is here, she's very well hidden!

If she isn't here,
I wonder where she might be.

And God? Don't you wonder where He is?

No, he's there.

He's everywhere, my friend.

And I hope He is with your wife
right now.

I'd rather Him than someone else!

Remember, if you ever need solace,
this is where you'll find it.

- Not elsewhere.
- I know, Vicar, thank you.

Time for 7 o'clock mass.

Take advantage.

Sit down.

Here.

And so the vicar took advantage
and gave me early morning mass.

I didn't understand a word.
About God's goodness.

All very fine,
but nothing about where she is.

Did you argue?

No, no. We've been married five years
and not a single argument.

Never a word.
My wife is a calm woman.

She never speaks.

But if you really think,

don't you have any clue, any idea
what direction she went?

The only thing that's possible

is that she was missing her mother
and went there.

Why wouldn't she say?

In case I wouldn't let her.

Anyway, with women you never know.
They're worse than watches!

No, that must be it.

You see,

the moving in was tiring,

and it annoyed her,
made her feel off.

And she needed to see her mother.

She loves her a lot.

If you knew
how much she loves her mother!

- Sees her often?
- Whenever she can.

And what do you do then?

- What do you think? I knead.
- Obviously!

What else am I going to do?

Hey, Tonin!

Is there no more room in your gamebag?

If I put it in there, no one sees it!

- Very fine!
- Yes indeed.

But it'll be tough.
It's at least 3 years old.

Jealous! And your dog,
when you shot it instead of a hare,

how old was it then?

Here are your thrushes, Baker.
One big, one small.

The smaller one is more tender.

- Thanks, Tonin, that's nice.
- Except there's one too many.

- His wife has disappeared.
- Disappeared? Let's not exaggerate.

She's not here, that's all.

- Did you bump into her?
- I don't think so.

Did you see anyone?

Of course I saw some people.

I saw the postman
going up the road on his bike.

And I saw a man ploughing
on the Badoc plateau.

And I saw - I thought I saw -
a horse going past.

I don't care about horses,
what about my wife?

Was the horse alone?

No, it had people on its back.

Well... a woman?

Could have been.

Not my wife, she can't ride a horse.

But maybe the lady on the horse
wasn't on her own?

No, there was a man in front
and she held onto him.

That's not my wife, no.

Much too familiar!

Well, logically,

if she didn't tell you she was going
in case you refused,

I would think she might have left a note
on a piece of paper.

Of course she left me a note!

What a great fat idiot I am!

She did leave me a note! I'd forgotten.

She left it in the bedroom!

I'll go there now. Thank you, Teacher!

Let's go too. He won't find it.

Women really are unbelievable.

It was her that you saw, wasn't it?

Casimir, don't put words in my mouth
in front of an enemy!

What I can say,
even in front of an enemy,

is that I saw a horse
going down towards the marsh.

It was bearing two people:
a man and a woman.

It looked like his lordship's shepherd
and the baker's wife.

So she went off with him.

Pardon, Teacher.

I said, "looked like,"
not that it was them.

But it did look like them.

And they looked like people in love
looking for a place for a cuddle.

And if you want my opinion,
they looked like they won't come back.

And the baker looks like a cuckold.

It's not surprising.

It may not be surprising,
it doesn't have to happen.

My wife wouldn't run off like that.

She's cleverer than that.

Shepherds are cleverer too.

With the titties your wife's got

she needs a cattleman,
not a shepherd!

There aren't any cattlemen here!

Lads!

The paper isn't there,
but since I left the window open,

look and see if the breeze has taken it
there, or there.

Yes, we'll have a look.

Well, we'll pretend.

- Is the baker there?
- Yes, my Lord.

Wits, do you know anything?

What?

Dominique left with his wife.

And they took Scipion, the best horse.

The old man's gutted.

I did say I thought I'd recognised them!

- Shut the door.
- Yes.

My poor Aimable,

have you heard?

- Heard what?
- Your wife.

- Any news?
- Yes, old man.

I have news,
and it's dreadfully precise.

Your wife has run off with Dominique,
my head shepherd.

With the shepherd? What a joke!
Who on earth told you that?

Your wife and my shepherd
left this morning .

And to get away they stole Scipion,
my best horse.

A horse?

He took her on a horse?

He's got a nerve!

What if she falls off?

- Where could they be?
- Nobody knows!

What would they do together?

Make love, quite simply.

Oh, come on!

But they only met yesterday, my Lord!

Think about it. When I courted her,

she didn't say yes for three years.
To marrying me!

Maybe that's it.

Oh no, my lord.

If you knew Aurélie,
that'd be your last idea.

- Man to man, I can tell you?
- Yes.

Aurélie's a woman who isn't interested
in that sort of thing.

Selling bread, cashing up,

mending her... camisoles,
that kind of thing,

that's OK. Talk of love
and she won't even listen.

No. When I kiss her,

she just lets me.
No disgust, but no pleasure.

A door has more feeling.

I know what I'm saying:
we've been married 5 years.

What I mean to say, my lord,

is though she's beautiful and elegant,
men look at her,

she seems made for love,
well, love isn't made for her!

So she's like a magnificent flower
with no scent!

That's it. A scentless flower.

Maybe you've got a cold?

Me? Never been ill in my life!

And anyway,
that wouldn't put my wife off.

I just don't believe the shepherd story!

Very well.

Wits? Wits, come here!

This is my subordinate shepherd.
He'll tell you.

How does he know?

- Where's Dominique?
- He's gone.

- Who with?
- Scipion.

- And who else?
- The baker's wife.

- Who told you that?
- Dominique.

They met behind the church.

When will they be back?

He took his savings, hugged his dog...

That means he won't be back.

If you won't believe me,
Tonin saw them go by this morning.

My lord,
if the house had fallen on my head

maybe it would have killed me
but it couldn't hurt me more.

I understand, old man.
You didn't suspect a thing.

But how could I suspect something
I can't believe even now?

No, it's not true, it's not true,
no, no!

Your shepherd has left,

the lout took your horse,
I believe you if you say so .

My wife going to her mother's
the same day: coincidence.

Of course
people will talk if she stays too long.

But come on, my lord,

how could we believe such a thing?
It's common sense!

Believe what you like.
I have got some common sense.

I can do without my shepherd,

your wife isn't my affair

but I do want to get Scipion back!

He said he'd send him back.

When they run out of money
it'll go to the first dealer they find!

He's worth 12,000 francs,
not a penny less.

- Lovely horse.
- Magnificent.

I'm going to the police.

He'll go to prison. Tough.

Serve him right.

Yes, but your wife will go too.

As his accomplice,
maybe even as the instigator.

It's not my wife's fault, my lord,
you're mistaken!

Wits just told you so.

I don't care what Wits said!

WITLESS, more like!

He's certainly no encyclopedia!

What does he know about my wife?

Wits, get out! Things are bad enough.

Tale-teller! Reputation-breaker!

Get out of here! Get out!

Watching sheep
makes you see horns everywhere!

Go on, now, get out! Get out!

In that case,
I'm going to make my complaint.

My lord, aren't you going a bit fast?

Why?

Well, your shepherd's only been gone
for five or six hours.

Wait a bit before accusing him
of being a thief.

None of this is my fault.

I lose a shepherd, a pedigree horse,
and I'm not even made cuckold.

I can't take this lightly.

Listen, my lord,

if none of them come back,

I'll give you 12,000 francs.

Where would you get it?

When you've been punching dough
for 20 years

you've some money put aside.

But if Aurélie doesn't come back

won't be needing any of it.
So then

if I have proof that my wife's beauty

made you lose a fine horse,

well, I'll pay for it.

Wait another 2 days.

I'm waiting.

Aimable, you're a good man.

Shake my hand. I'm with you.

I count you as a friend.

Thank you, my lord, I'm very honoured.

The horse is back.

- Come back?
- Yes, my lord.

- Alone?
- Alone.

A farmer I don't know.

He came into the square,
tied the beast up and left.

- Would you recognise the man?
- No, teacher!

He was a little way off

and I don't look at men.

You're right; we don't look at you.

My goodness! Mass!

- Well, so this is Scipion?
- That's him.

That's the horse
you say carried off my wife?

- No.
- Why 'no'?

He doesn't look like that.

Baker, we understand.

No you don't! Leave me alone, you hear?

Noses out of my business!

I'll do this alone.

Let me go and make my bread.

Go and hang out at the Circle,
you lazy lot!

- He's not happy.
- Not looking good.

- Says it isn't true.
- Won't believe it.

- Do you think...?
- I said he won't believe it, not can't.

Her mother.

Yes...

Yes...

Her mother.

It's all burnt.

I must light the oven.

Shepherd.

What am I doing?

No, it's...
I'm sure she'll be at mass.

I can't go like this.

This time, in the bread,
maybe we won't find any cigars

but we may find horns!

Strange that a man deceived by his wife
always makes for humorous conversation.

- Why?
- Because it's funny.

Makes me laugh too, it does.

- He's all proud of her...
- ...and she leaves the first day!

With a Piedmontese shepherd!

And he won't believe it!

I wouldn't say it's hilarious
but it's fun. It makes you laugh.

In any case, we're all talking about it.

Especially the women,
even in front of the vicar.

Tough luck for the baker, he's a fool.

And now, dear friends,
I want to talk about a local event

which is small,
but important for the parish.

I heard, in spite of myself,

the comments of all
our lady parishioners

talking about the day's scandal

right under the church porch.

And everything in their voices,
tones and colouring

proved they were
passionately interested.

No, my friends, no, really, no!

This sad incident must not occupy
all our thoughts.

And since it seems you all have heard,

I might as well speak of it.

Not in a spirit of gossip, which,
you know, is not in my heart.

But to learn - maybe - a useful lesson.

When his Grace did me the honour
of naming me to this parish,

I soon noticed that Sunday mass

drew fewer people
than on weekday mornings.

This surprised and greatly grieved me.

But certain of my lady penitents

confided in me
that they didn't come to Sunday mass

because their husbands forbade them to

and, gathered in front of the holy place
for a game of bowls,

might see them go past

whereas in the week

those fearful sheep could come

secretly to take refuge
with the good pastor.

Today, my friends, here is the sign

and here is the lesson.

This woman who left

the woman who left
an honest and hard-working husband,

a husband for whom
we all feel deep esteem,

this woman,
who had been here some days,

had not once come to mass.

Let's hope that God in His goodness

will make her disgusted with her sin
and she will always regret it

and will erase it
with confession and prayer.

But let us not miss a precious lesson.

Tyrannical husbands, impious husbands,

blind husbands, you are not here
but my words will reach you.

Know that every woman
needs a good shepherd.

If these weak creatures cannot
take refuge with the Shepherd of Souls

they will fly off
with a shepherd of sheep.

A shepherd cursed by God!

A shepherd who devours
the souls of that innocent flock.

If, at least, this dishonest abductor
makes you realise your duty

then this scandalous story

is a great benefit to the parish.

But we must all rejoice at it.

And we must thank God
for this salutary warning.

Tell me, Baker,

this morning you asked me

- if I'd seen your wife.
- Yes. Did you see her?

No, I didn't see her.

But I saw your sister.

You saw my sister?

Yes, the pretty one,

the one who sells the bread.

Are you related to the shepherd?

I'm afraid so.

They were kissing each other
so hard - incredible.

Thank you.

Maybe I said too much.

Some people are jealous
of their sisters.

Waiter?

- Here I am.
- Waiter!

Yes, Sir? What will you have?

A bottle of Pernod.

You mean, a Pernod?

A bottle of Pernod.

Half a bottle, Sir.

Good God, it's French!
A bottle of Pernod!

And a watering can to drink it.

The baker's outside.
He looks a bit strange.

He wants Pernod and a watering can.

A watering can? To water what?

The Pernod!

He just wants to get drunk.

Understandable.

- He mustn't kill himself!
- Let's go talk to him.

We'll take him his Pernod.

Hey, Baker, I gather you're thirsty?

A litre bottle? That's serious business!

Oh, I'm not thirsty.
It's just, with all these events...

I just met the old man.

He saw the shepherd leave with my wife.

I know he's losing his marbles,
but even so...

that's the third witness, so...

No matter how much common sense
you have, or trust,

it gets into your brain.

So I thought, I'll go and have a drink.
Better that than drown.

You're right.
Have a drink and you'll feel better.

- Then we'll put you to bed!
- Well then, cheers!

This... this morning,

This morning I went to mass twice.

And the second time, the priest
talked about my wife.

She's a sinner... Debauchery...

God's peace and all that rot.

Well, he seems to think it's worthwhile.

He says it'll be...

Make the other husbands in the village
think, teach them a lesson.

Food for thought.

Well, me, me,

I'm the one it's happening to
and I'm not thinking.

It stops me thinking.

Cheers!

- Hello, Baker!
- Oh, what are you doing here?

So, Baker, you've been deceived?

Oh, that's really funny.

It's for rich people.

If it happened to me
I wouldn't be deceived.

I'd be unhappy, you understand?
It's not the same thing.

Cheers!

In nomine Patris et Filii
et Spiritus Sancti, amen.

I'm not sure it would be good
if she came back.

I'm convinced she won't.

There are bad matches,
and sooner or later they end in disaster.

I wish her speedy repentance

but I would prefer her
not to do it here.

God always forgives
and He orders us to forgive.

In our little village

I'm afraid forgiveness could be very
dangerous for other marriages.

True, for simple souls,

forgiveness is a sort of approbation
of wrongdoing.

Exactly. That is why,
though I will pray for her,

I would prefer her
to seek forgiveness elsewhere.

Céleste forgot the bread!

Céleste?

The bread!

Our bread.

It's true that the new baker's bread

is quite extraordinary bread.

I don't know if it's because we had hard
or stale bread for two months,

but our fresh bread is delicious.

Yesterday, I ate some so eagerly

that maybe I should confess to it.

There, my Lord, is the simplicity
and greatness of our prayers.

They don't ask for gold, diamonds
or status,

they ask for bread.
"Give us this day our daily bread."

There is another essential food
that our prayers don't ask for.

Water. I don't understand
why in "Our Father"

Christians don't ask the Lord
for daily water.

Maybe because God has supplied us
with it in abundance

and we're never short of it.

That's why
we don't need to ask for it.

Your good health, Vicar.

There's no bread. It's all burnt.

- Didn't you make more?
- He didn't have the strength!

It's not because
I didn't have the strength, it's...

- Will you make some later?
- No.

Not this afternoon, nor tomorrow,
nor the day after...

When I kneaded,
it was for my wife, you see?

So the bread I made was for her.

And while I was at it,
I made bread for other people.

But I didn't make bread.

It was money for her.
And she's gone. So there.

I don't need money any more.
So there's no more bread.

So because of your wife
we'll be short on bread?

Listen, you can't do two things
at the same time.

Be a cuckold and a baker all at once.

Well, Céleste,

our bread?

Here, Vicar. This is all I could find.

- The whole batch burnt.
- How so?

The baker says he won't make any more
till his wife comes back.

He's pushing it!

Sin always brings some unhappiness.

And he's drunk as a pig!

With all due respect.

Laughing, crying, talking.

That must be quite a sight.

And when he spoke of his wife
he mentioned you.

He thinks you're glad she's gone.

He didn't understand mass this morning.

He misunderstood what I said!

We must calm him down, my Lord.

Woe to him who brings scandal!

Let's go quickly
and try to take him home.

While you're there,
look on the shelves by the oven!

Maybe you'll find a loaf.

You see, Teacher, sometimes

you think someone's talking to you
but they're not,

they're singing to another.

- Understand?
- Absolutely. Come with me.

Danger. Danger of accidents.

Accidents happen an awful lot.

Children... children...
Take the seed of this lesson

and grow it in the nursery.

They should learn that at Sunday School.
Amen.

That's delightful.

But, tell me,
you know what we should do?

We should take you home.

And there, sitting in comfortable chairs
we'll have a drink.

- That's an idea.
- A good idea!

What do you say?

I say...

I say that I can see

his lordship

coming this way
with his lovely little preachy-preacher.

My lord, I'm very honoured.

Ah, my lord!

Vicar. Well,

you're not a baker,
anyone can see that. Nor a cuckold.

Mind you, we'll never know that,
will we? Because sometimes...

- Come, my friend.
- Come with us.

I say no. I say no, my Lord.

Not because I want to refuse,
or disobey,

because, my lord, I take my hat...

I've lost my hat.
Well, I take my hat off to you,

my lord. A man full of nobility.

Full of goodness and heraldic shields.

Respected by the entire population.

My lord, I respect you too much

to let people be rude about you.

Look, children, look at him
with his sympathetic face.

Looks like a ration loaf.

That's a marquis

who's good to look at, eh?

I bet there isn't a marquis like you
in all of England!

Thank you, Baker, you're too kind.

- Shall we have a drink?
- Come and lie down.

I think he's right.

And I think he spoke too soon.
I get drunk for once,

so let everybody have the benefit.

What a laugh!

Talking of which,
can you sing in Italian?

- No, why?
- Well...

it's very important.

The bakerds wife-o

is very tire-o!

The shepherd-o with his guitarra

and the bella ragazza.

Come keepio the sheepio with mio.

And gallopy gallopy gallopy...
On you go, Scipion!

I must just digress a little.

I just need to talk to...

Monet. honet,

you said I was a cuckold?

Fine.
Well, it's a rank you'll never hold.

All your life

you can go to cuckold school,

you'll never make it.

Because for that you need a pretty wife.

And yours, my poor honet,

has more hair on her chin
than pink on her nipples!

Make him shut up!

- There are children listening!
- And young ladies!

The young ladies can leave if they want.

Send the children away!

Sit down now, Baker.

Listen to me, Baker.

A bit of decency for the children!

Don't talk to me about children

'cos if I'd had one
all this wouldn't have happened.

Indeed,
let's talk about your misfortunes.

Not in public. Between ourselves.

Ah, that's it.

Between ourselves, eh?
Between ourselves.

My lord,

speaking Italian should be prohibited.

And especially singing in Italian

because men never understand Italian

and women always do.

- Do you get me?
- Not altogether.

Come keepio the sheepio with mio.

And the next morning
you take up a hot cup of coffee

and what do you find in the bed
instead of your wife?

A bolster.

Yes. And that's one more mystery.

Look. The Pope.

The Pope, who's Italian,
doesn't speak Italian.

He speaks Latin. I know that.

So, why doesn't he talk Italian?

Because the Pope's a good man,

an honest man, a holy man

and he doesn't want
women to follow him.

Who would ever have said?
Who would ever have said

that she understood Italian?

Takes the biscuit!

- Come, my friend.
- Come on, come on.

Let's come along.

The bakero's wife-o...!

I've got a few worries at the moment.

Yes. Well, that is...

I've got marital worries.

- Understand?
- Absolutely.

We two get on very well.

This very morning
you had me for two masses.

Two masses and a sermon.
Oh, those two masses were...

Extraordinary!

They were a similar,
but that's normal.

Obviously.

In fact, because, my lord,

that young vicar

is unbeatable for masses.

- A champion.
- I hope those masses did you some good.

Oh, enormous!

Enormous! Enormous!

Except for the sermon - the avenger,

the demon, all that... well, really...

Were you shocked?

Disappointed.

Sorrowful.

Devastated.

With women, you can expect anything.

But what about shepherds?

Selfish shepherds who you say, "Here,

"have a past," and they take everything.

So, I was saying...

I was saying...

Why? Why did she leave?

Why did she go to her mother's?

Well, why not?

She went to her mother's on a horse.

Come on, Baker, don't cry.
Come along and rest.

Come on, now.

Ah, that's my house.

Hey, hey! You're not to stare at him
like some strange beast!

This is my bakery.

No, not in the bedroom!
Not in the bedroom!

Here, in your kneading trough.

There. There.

- Antonio?
- Yes.

- Antonio? Where are you?
- Yes? Here.

- Antonio?
- Yes.

Go up to the bedroom

and see if she's there, maybe.

He's taking it too tragic.

Love's interesting,
but it shouldn't stop work.

- No!
- Of course not!

My lord, I ask you.

I can't make bread,
since my leaven's gone.

I understand, my son.

But for now, sleep a bit.

You make it sound
like it's just closing your eyes.

If I shut my eyes
I see too many things.

Listen, my friend.

You are esteemed by the whole village.

You make delicious bread.

He's flattering me.

Your wife...

through a very incomprehensible error,

leaves you.

Yes, she's left me.

Why blaspheme?

Can't you see that meditation and prayer
are the only remedies?

But prayers are for when you've sinned.

But I haven't done any harm.

Who to? When?

So, since God allowed my wife
to fly away

with a man who keeps sheep,
I have to go and say sorry?

You know,

I do respect God

but as of today he owes me.

Yes, he owes me!

That woman leaving
is only a crime for her, for sure.

It couldn't be clearer

But since your conscience is pure,

take refuge with God. He will give you
all that he doesn't owe you.

Easy for him to talk.
You've got nothing to lose.

Your God won't leave.

He's nailed to the cross.

But my one... my one has gone.

Blasphemy again, my son.

Not your son, I could be your father!

And also, don't talk about things

that you don't know about.

That I hope you never will know about.
Firstly you're young, and a priest.

Here.

Saint Cécile. Saint Cécile

is the patron of our village.
She's beautiful,

she's pure, she's gentle.
Well, she's a saint, isn't she?

What if someone came

to say she'd run off with a shepherd.
What would you say?

That's absurd! And sacrilegious.

So what do I say?

I say she's at her mother's.

He's young.
He hasn't seen much of life.

Here, Baker, have a rest.

Now you're good and pickled,
rest a couple of hours.

- You'll feel better when you wake up.
- Thanks.

This is her pillow.

I know where you found it:
in the bedroom.

When she was 16,
she had breasts like oranges.

Now they're alive like pigeons.

Oh, and her arms.
The smell of her arms!

Be quiet, it's abominable.

No, it wasn't abominable.

The smell of her head on the pillow.

One night - a long time ago, it was -

a dream had frightened her,
so she was crying in her sleep.

All of a sudden
she threw herself upon me

and put her head...

her face on my shoulder.

And she went to sleep
with her hot hair on my neck.

And now I'm alone.

I'm all alone.

And I'm in a trough!

You see, my lord, people are right

to say that someone's in a trough.

I'm in the trough.

And in a trough
where no more kneading is done.

Because I say she's at her mother's,

fair enough, but I'm beginning to doubt

that she's there after all.

- Tonin.
- Yes.

Do you think she should come back?

Of course I do, and I'm sure she will.

My lord, I said that
for the sake of her health.

Yes, because that man
can't take good care of her.

She'll go and catch cold.
At four o'clock in the morning

on a horse. A stolen horse!

Forgive me, my lord.

Aurélie.

Aurélie, where are you?

Cover yourself up.

Cover yourself up. Cover yourself

Vicar, you can go and eat.

I'll watch over him. It'll be at least
two hours: I served him.

- Well, I do have Vespers.
- Yes, and I know what I'll do.

I'm going to get everyone
together to search.

If you need me, I'm at the Circle.

You just have to ask for me.

Thank you, my lord.

Tonin?

- Leave the door open.
- All right.

I'll explain why.

My father had a hen pheasant
in the chicken coop.

She was no use to him,
but he loved her.

Who knows why?

God only knows,
since He knows everything.

So one evening, as usual,

they shut up the coop.

They didn't see she hadn't come back in.

So when she did come back,

she couldn't get in
and she spent the night outside.

Do you know what happened?

The fox devoured her.

Leave the door open, Tonin.

The door's open. Wide open.

Leave the door open.

Tonin... Leave the door open... Tonin.

I must confess I'm scared,
really, by that dreadful scene.

No, not dreadful.
Simply human, that's all.

- That man was not human.
- On the contrary,

in his madness, he was
all the weakness of men. He suffered.

- What made him suffer?
- The love he has for a woman.

But can the love of a woman
wreak such havoc in a reasonable being?

Reasonable beings, as you say,

don't only have an immaterial soul.

They have a heart made of meat.

For you, of course, physical love
is just a sin, known and catalogued.

And you punish those who have
tasted the pleasures of the flesh.

Well, you've just seen
the joys of the flesh

and you can see
they carry their own punishment.

Did the baker scare you?

When I saw him so tortured,
I thought, it's an actual disease.

A disease as rapid as the plague,
rabies, or cholera.

But anyone can catch a disease.

- It depends if you're susceptible.
- I fear being a man may suffice.

I'm not saying I have visions
such as those that martyred St Antoine.

I'm not virtuous enough
to tempt the Devil.

And my vocation is solid.

I don't need children,
since I have those of the village.

On top of that,
leading troubled souls,

consoling the sick
and devotion to the poor

are occupations that bring me great joy

and suffice to fill a life.

I know, Vicar,
that you're a good priest.

And His Grace knows it too.

My feeling happily settled in,
if I may say so,

as a priest, is precisely why
that scene earlier upset me so much.

Like a ship's captain, seeing another
ship smashed open on the rocks

and thinking, my hull is no stronger,

my helm no greater, my maps no better.

L, too, could be shipwrecked.

My friend, to be shipwrecked
you have to sail.

Those who stay on the quay risk nothing.

Indeed, the love we saw earlier

cannot be born of a look,
a dream or a confession.

Of course, the emotion you felt

was no doubt
an initial quiver of the flesh,

but for love to have
the time to grow its roots

you must have consented to the rest.

For passion lives
on more precise realities

and when the baker talked about his wife

it wasn't her soul
that he was describing.

That's true. It's true.

In any case,
I hope the baker's martyrdom

will inspire you with more indulgence
for us poor sinners.

And maybe have given you to understand
that love is not only pleasure.

And that a debauched individual
with four nieces

is maybe a soul who's afraid
of having no more.

- That's one point of view.
- Yes.

And there's another point of view.

That of the turbot
that awaits us at your table

under fresh slices of lemon!

You blessed that food earlier.
It would be a sin to abandon it.

"Public announcement.

"His lordship the marquis of Venelle

"is pleased to inform the population
that the big general assembly

"will be held today, Sunday,
at quarter to two

"in the Circle hall. Subjects include
the general situation of the village

"and its whereabouts
as far as bread is concerned.

"We will try together
to find a solution to the tragedy

"which threatens famine
upon a hard-working population

"and which constitutes
a veritable attack on morale

"and supplies.
Signed, Marquis Constant de Venelles.

"Post-scriptum: the vicar,

the teacher, the marquis and the baker

will witness these - er - debates.

And to resume, dear friends,
I think we have only one solution.

Our duty is to forget family hatred

which separate us.
We have a duty to come together.

We must find our baker's lovely wife,
not because she is beautiful

but because she represents
our daily bread.

She cannot be far off.
The guilty pair left early this morning

and the horse they sent back to me
had not gone a long way.

I know what I'm saying.

Oh, yes indeed.

If we organise our search at once

she will be found before tonight.

So today, let's start our crusade
for the baker's wife.

Agreed, we'll all go!

And now, our friend the baker

so painfully tried by this escapade

who will be consoled by this evening

will now say a few words.

Ladies and gentlemen,
I will not speak as well as his lordship

because... I can't, I don't know how.

And I find myself in a situation

that's so critical
that I can't make a fine speech.

What's more, I'm bothered
by that lamp above my head

because I'm afraid
my horns will break it.

Go on, go on!

We like you, Baker! Go on!

I'm sorry I didn't make any bread today.

It's because of the doubt I'm in.

My head isn't mine.
I was afraid I'd make you

bread out of sawdust,
or knead brioche with bleach.

But if you bring my Aurélie back,
then you'll have a true baker.

I'll make you such bread
as you've never seen.

Bread so delicious

that it won't be served
as an accompaniment.

My bread will be a treat,
a delight for gourmets.

You won't say.

"I had some cheese on some bread,"

you'll say,
"I ate some bread under my cheese."

I'll make five kilos of bread
every day for the poor

and in each loaf you have
will be great friendship

and great thanks.

Very good! Well spoken.

Ladies and gentlemen,
after hearing those speeches

I have nothing to add but to wish
the coming expedition entire success!

And now, dear friends, may I warn
the numerous churchgoers here:

it is five to three,
and Vespers is about to begin.

- Are we going to Vespers?
- Oh no, no.

Really, though!
All this for that creature.

If I'd wanted to run off with him

there would be less fuss.

My dear Céleste, beauty is nothing.
Men don't care about it!

What you need

is vice. Oh, if you had vice...

If you want to put on paint and powder

and do your beard every morning

and move your behind when you walk
then they'll all want you!

God preserve me!
That's not what I want.

And God save me from getting it

in spite of myself.

Silence! Ready!

Where did I get
this crowd of reservists?

Fall in!

To the left - left!

- Lieutenant, have you got the maps?
- Yes, Sir.

The waste ground has been divided
into 12 sectors.

Each patrol
will be in charge of its sector

and must report on it mission
before 7.

First row, one step forward!

- Sector?
- Chaussiéres: 12 km of drivable road.

- Do you have bicycles?
- Yes, my lord!

- No, Commander!
- Yes, Sir!

- Shall we wear Sunday clothes?
- No! Country clothes.

Can we take a gun?

Trooper Tonin,
no questions to a superior.

Yes, you may.

To kill someone?

No, it's for passing hares
or maybe thrushes.

1st patrol, fall out!

First row, two steps forward.

- Sector?
- St André by the loggers' road.

- Know it?
- Yes, Sir!

Foot patrol. Fall out!

- Commander, I can't go with him.
- Why not?

Because of his three elms, I mean...

He wants me to cut them down.

You'll get four days, I tell you!

Where did they get these reservists?

Fall out!

First row, two steps forward.

They're hidden, or they're far away.
They won't be found.

My poor friend, 3O went out
and only six have come back.

And they found nothing.

We couldn't bring back six wives.
What would you have done with them?

Here are some more.

Well?

We went all the way,
asked passers-by,

asked at the farms... Nothing at all.

A dog bit my hand.

And at Croix des Moines

we met the Perrault brothers
on their way back.

Nothing there either.

Still looking?

They said thinking about your wife

had their imaginations going all day

and they couldn't come back.

So they've gone to Manosque
and they sent you their greetings.

Oh well, thank you.
Thanks anyway.

Barnabé! Doesn't this spot
remind you of anything?

- Forgive me, Tonin!
- Forgive him, Tonin!

What should I forgive him?

Because I wanted him
to murder some elms?

Trees that belong to him?
Trees you love?

Maybe, but those trees
killed your giant spinach!

Killed it in the egg!

I'll never forget that, never!

Here, I won't prune my elms,

I'll tear them up!

My spinach, it was bad seed.

You mustn't touch your elms,
they're splendid!

I'll move my garden.

Barnabé... I'm choked with friendship.

Barnabé, you're too good.

Here, I'll take your hat.

Oh, isn't that lovely!
Really touching.

But no emotion now. Watch it!

Atten-shun!

Weapon on right shoulders!

Forward... march!

They're happy! They're singing!

Hey, Baker!

Wach it!

One, two, three...

Hey, Baker!

Hey, Baker!

So then, did you find her?

No, we found something better.

We were looking for your wife
and we found friendship.

We left sulking,
we've come back hugging!

Tell him properly.
This will interest him.

We fetched up at the castle
and the man was there.

We told him your misfortune
and it made him laugh.

- Killing himself.
- He could hardly breathe!

- He gave you a drink.
- He gave us a drink.

And then... Barnabé,

you tell them what happened next
'cos I get mixed up.

All right, thank you colleague.

So, well, this man was an artist.

He wrote a song.
Well, he wrote some words

to thank you
for restoring our friendship.

Don't go, don't go.

He gave us a package too.

A package for you.

Here. A present from your wife.

- From my wife?
- Yes.

- For me?
- It isn't for the vicar!

She thought of me.
Oh, that's so kind.

Take no notice.
They're drunk as lords.

Thank you, Madame.

They don't see how hurt you are.

Well, I do, you know.

They don't mean any harm.

They're more silly than nasty.

You're right, they're drunk.

That reminds me,
I didn't offer them a drink.

I'll go and get some wine
from the cellar.

' Yes?

Get the glasses out of the sideboard.

That's a good idea.

Get red and white,
that way we can choose.

I've got some rosé, too.

Delicacy, gentlemen.

We were just trying
to make a joke of it!

Well, his wife has run off.

He didn't buy her, he hasn't lost.

You'd think he'd lost a pond!

If she was ill or dead,
I could understand him being upset.

But she's happy!

- Anyway, she isn't bored.
- You're just likable brutes.

He's been in the cellar a long time.
Go and see!

- Goodness! What if he destroys himself?
- My God!

Don't hang yourself there
like him, it's bad luck!

Let's talk first, hang yourself after.

- See the good side of the thing.
- See the good side!

Let me go! Let me go!

See the positive side.

See the positive side!

Come on, now.

She's been found! Baker! Baker!

Your wife's been found!

Let me go! Let me go!

Tonin, let me go!

Get me down so I can see her
one more time.

We've found her.
In fact, it was bound to end like this.

The rest of you be quiet and sit down.

- Where is she?
- Not here, but we know where.

She isn't far.

Monet saw her, not me.

lronet the fisherman.
I was coming back

with Wits, empty-handed,

feeling a bit sad for you.

And then we met lronet, on his way back.

And he said,
"I've seen the baker's wife."

When? An hour ago.
Where is she? And he said,

"I'll tell him that myself."

I know him, so I didn't push the matter.

He's a real mule.

Won't answer questions.

- Are you sure he saw her?
- Since he said so, yes.

And he's going to come and tell you.
But don't question him

or interrupt him,
otherwise he'll get up and leave.

Ladies, try to listen in silence.

We won't say a word.

Who knows where she is?

Here he is.

- Hello, gentlemen.
- Hello, Vicar.

- Is there any news?
- Yes, but we don't yet know what.

But we know there is some.

lronet has seen her. Here he is.

Sit down, all, and silently

- Silence.
- Here you are.

Hello all!

- Hello lronet.
- Your lucky day, Baker.

It'll be lucky
depending on what you tell me.

So I think it's your lucky day.

Sit down, lronet.

- Have you seen my wife?
- Listen to me!

If you break in when I'm talking,
I can't talk.

I don't know if you know,

but at the Peyruis bowls tournament
in 1926...

No, '27. '27 or '26?

In '26. That was the year

when the Pommiéres lot won.

And at the Peyruis bowls tournament
a ball hit me on the head.

Here, touch my bump.

It'll be there till I die.
Touch the bump.

And since I got that lump,
if I'm interrupted I get lost.

Speak, lronet, speak.

We won't interrupt you.

So then, this morning I was in my bed
at about 3 o'clock,

and thinking
about my day's fishing.

I was thinking, the weather's calm,

will you go for pike, near Roubreau?

It's a good breeding ground.

Go for pike.

I had decided to fish pike.

Maybe it wasn't a good idea,
but, well, with that weather...

It was an excellent idea!

So, then, I was in my bed,
like I told you,

and all of a sudden
I heard the leaves moving in the trees.

So I thought, here we go,
there's a wind getting up.

So up I got and out I went.

I remember it wasn't too cold,
there was a bit of a wind,

a bit bastard,
like it was playing 40-40.

So I thought, adieu pike.

With a five-metre rod

and wind that's likely to get stronger,

you could break your wrist.

So, I had a good think about it

and got it into my head
to go to the Bistagne marshes.

And as you know, the Bistagne marshes
are a bit particular.

Only good at midday.

So I went down into the garden,

took four dungworms, red ones,
and went to the Circle

to get my rods and camouflage ready.

And while I was preparing them,

you came along, drank a Pernod,

and said I would never be a cuckold.

I thank you for that.

And while you were singing
like a madman,

I went to the marshes,
keeping out of sight,

quietly, and as I came up
behind a hedge,

what did I see?

Seems I can hear singing.

Be quiet, you lot!
lronet's saying where she is.

- But we didn't know!
- Where is she?

He hasn't said yet,
but he's getting there. Come on!

- Well.
- Forgive us, Baker,

We didn't know lronet had begun.

And about the rope...

We brought some bottles up
so no one would guess.

- It's best if people don't know.
- Be quiet, you drunkards!

So, lronet, you went up to the hedge
and what did you see?

Yes! What did I see?

I don't remember.

I know! A tench.

It was swimming slowly along
with its jaws wide open.

I got out of sight,
I hooked two worms on

and threw out my line.

The bait fell right in front
of its nose, up itjumped,

and I hooked it.

Then it started.

At the first tug, I didn't trust it

so I let out some line.

But I didn't see the second tug coming

and I was taken by surprise.
I thought it'd pull left,

it pulled right.

My groove was twisted
like an umbrella rib.

Not everybody can catch a tench.

You go like that, and that, and back...

And on the third tug

On the third tug,
you're beginning to bore us.

Can't you see he's desperate?

Are you doing this on purpose?

Fine. I was interrupted, I'm off.

Listen, lronet.

Never mind lronet!

lronet...

Talk, I say! I'll count to three...

They're on an island

in the marshes,
opposite Jabelard's farm.

Let me breathe! Give me a drink!

Yes, all right, sit down now.

Talk, talk! Did they see you?
What did they say?

Hey, don't push me!

So while fishing,
I heard a woman's voice.

A woman's voice, singing.

So I crept up, staying hidden,
making no noise,

I looked between two leaves
and what did I see?

Your wife, singing.
The shepherd was lying on the grass

and playing his guitar.
Sings nicely, your wife does.

She sings when she's happy.

She did look it.
Specially since she was all bare.

- Of course.
- Who knows if it's true?

- All bare?
- Oh yes. And she's lovely!

Unfortunate woman.

So I looked for a bit,

then left making no noise.

Yes. But tell me, is it far from here?

- A good half-hour on foot.
- Let's all go!

Yes, we'll all go! With a gun!

- Why take the gun?
- What if he doesn't want to let her go?

Silence, now!
And let's not talk nonsense.

Go and wait at the Circle.
It's my round.

Here, we'll draw up a plan of campaign.

Go on, get out. Off you go.

Come on, now.

So you're not going.

No, my lord.
I only want to see her here.

The last time I saw her was here.

The next time will be here too.

Between the two,
I don't know what happened.

So who will go?

In my opinion, my lord,
only two or three people.

I would suggest the vicar.

- He can talk well, he's used to it.
- That's true.

And vicars' job is to look for demons!

Is there still a demon?

Of course, my lord, since there's sin.

So it's all his fault.

Oh, what a mind!
Takes away the sinner's responsibility

and gives it to the Evil One.

No, Sir, no.

We all have our own free will
to fight temptation.

So right now in that marsh cabin
the Evil One is indisputably present

but our friend's wife also has
her free will alongside her

- To use as she will.
- No she won't!

This isn't happening again.
I don't give a damn about free will

She comes right back
and free will can watch the sheep.

I'll beat free will up
and make pasties with it.

I'm not sure you quite understand.

Yes I do! Yes I do!
I completely understand.

That shepherd is a sorcerer.

So when he saw her,
he charmed here,

he put a spell on her.
And now she's enchanted.

So she may indeed be.

Yes, or she wouldn't have left.

Well, exactly!

My wife isn't aware of what's happening.

All bare! I've never seen her all bare!

She's not that type of woman!

No, he put the demon in her body.

- She's got a devil's body.
- That's just it.

So, don't you think,
when the Devil sees the vicar

the demon will have to fly off
and my wife will be saved.

My shepherd is indeed very pious.

But we must cross the marshes

to the island, but we've no boat.

- And you need boots to get through.
- I can lend the vicar my waders.

That's just the trick.

And lronet can show the vicar the way.

That's fine by me. But I warn you,

It's very dangerous
if you don't know the underwater paths.

If you don't, and your foot slips,
goodbye!

Mind you, the vicar would go
straight to Heaven!

I wouldn't mind,
but I'm not certain where I'll end up.

I've often hunted in the marshes.

Well, there's an easy solution.

- A bit strange, but top-notch.
- What?

The teacher will put on his waders
and carry the vicar on his back.

- That's the best idea.
- Ridiculous!

No one will be there to see you.

Listen, Vicar, you must.
Go on the teacher's back. You must.

- I'm willing.
- You did say you think you're an animal

Listen, Vicar, if the teacher is willing
to be a priest's mount,

it's a homage,

if involuntary, to clerical superiority.

A small sacrifice to the baker's pain.

Let's say both at once!

- Thank you, Teacher.
- I'll make it with good heart

to ease the pain of a fellow man,
for no reward

nor hope of Heaven!

I won't go to Heaven.

Does your idiocy shelter you
from God's goodness?

Heretics and unbelievers go to Hell.

But you're in Hell right now!

You malign the light of faith...

Listen! I think you'd do better
to go and get your boots.

Your fine speeches are wasting time.

He's right. Let's go!

Let's go and get the boots.
Go and get the boots.

The vicar, the teacher and lronet, eh?

All that to bring her back?

That adulteress, I might say.

Do you think she'll stay around here?

No way. The first man that goes by!

You're short on Christian charity!

You should pity her,

for the unfortunate woman
will burn in Hell.

Of course she'll be off again.

And she'll take your husbands,
one after the other.

She has the Devil in her blood
and evil in her body.

But we mustn't judge.
We must love our neighbour as ourselves.

The thing I find disgusting
is her handling the bread.

There it is!

Are you sure?

I know the cabin, and the path.

Let's go, Vicar.

Oh, don't squeeze my ribs!
And your shoes under my nose!

But the position is impractical.

Go on and complain!

- You aren't carrying anything.
- Yes: the weight of my responsibility.

And you have a most uncomfortable bone
in your back.

I'll get it removed next time.

I would be most grateful.

A few more steps
and we'll try something else.

- Prayers?
- The prayers are already said.

- We'll try calling.
- What a job! Je...

- Jeepers!
- That's better.

Tell me, what's the old fool doing?

The old fool is fishing with his rod.

I'm so glad he is having
such a wonderful day.

- Gee up!
- Watch out, we'll sink!

Go on! Don't let go!

Someone's there.

Aurélie, it's over. The vicar's there.

So what?

The vicar. The man of God.

Madame Aurélie!

Our lovely sin is over.

The vicar's just about
to reach the island.

He's with the teacher.

He'll cast a spell. I'm afraid.

What of?

Aurélie, this is sin.

Go away, you idiot!

- Aurélie...
- Go away!

Madame Aurélie?

Madame Aurélie!

Aurélie! Lost sheep!

You followed the wrong shepherd.

That, Aurélie, is what
I have come to tell you.

He'll say the right things.

Because when that vicar talks,
people listen.

What are you doing, Baker?

You see, my lord,

I'm getting ready, because now
I know she'll be coming back.

What are you getting ready?
Put that broom down!

Where did I get such an idiot?

You know what?

You must saw off the handle
to hold it by

and when she comes back

give her such a hiding that her virtue
will be convinced!

I can't do that, my lord, no.

I've tidied the bedroom, made the bed...

So you're not cuckold by accident?

You were born that way!

Your lordship likes a joke.

"Let him who is without sin

"cast the first stone.

"And he bent down
and wrote on the ground.

"When they heard these words,

"they came out, one by one,

"with the elders coming first.

"And Jesus remained alone
with the adulteress.

"Then Jesus stood up

"and seeing no one but the woman,
said to her,

'Woman, where are those
that accused you?

'Has no one condemned you?"
She replied,

'No one, Lord.'
And Jesus said to her,

'I do not condemn you either. Go,

'and sin no more.'

Oh, are you going to do some kneading?

No, my lord.

I haven't the strength.

But you see, everything's ready

and if she comes back and it's all fine,
I'll get back to work.

Hello gentlemen!
Our bakeress is downstairs.

Where?

Sat at the bottom of the hill.

The vicar's lecturing her.

Not lecturing unkindly, I hope?

Oh, you know, lectures aren't always
very nice.

Yes. I mean,
is he making her cry?

On the contrary, he's consoling her.

But won't she come here?

Yes, but she doesn't
want to see anyone.

She's ashamed.

She said if she met anyone,
she'd turn back.

She is very modest.

So Casimir and Tonin have warned
everybody, and when night falls

everyone will go indoors,
especially the women!

Especially!

I'm going to get a horse for her
because she's very tired.

A horse? Well I never.

She's done a lot of horse riding.

- What about the shepherd?
- The shepherd!

He got scared and swam away.

One more thing.
Later on, when everything's ready,

I'll blow the whistle twice.
That's the signal.

Thank you, Teacher, you're very kind.

Go and get changed, now.
Don't catch cold.

Thank you. Goodbye!

Tell me, my lord,

If the shepherd comes back

- will you take him back?
- If he comes back

I'll send him away to my other farm.

That's it.

Send him away.

He'd better not
come to get the bread here.

He'd better not.

Teacher!

Teacher!

It's all sorted out.

The odd marital slap, but that's all.

But Miss Angéle won't go home.

Where is she?

Right in the middle of the road

near the baker's shop.

Leave it to me.

What's he going to do?

No, not with me!

It's no use insisting

I won't budge an inch.

I want to see
the adulteress's piteous return.

Doesn't want us to look? I'll look,
under a lamp so she sees me.

A lost woman, queen of the village?

So what use is virtue?

Angéle, sweet Angéle!

I'm so happy you've realised.

You've wasted 40 years
but we'll make it up!

Let me bare that breast

let me stroke that rump!

Give me your mouth.

No, don't say such things!

If you have a serious proposal,
make it in daylight, before my mother.

I'm not who you think I am.

There's the signal.

I'll leave you.

I'll go in the Circle with Casimir.

If anything happens, let me know.

Thank you, my lord, thank you.

Here's your home, daughter.

Pray for a while, and God will help you.

Peace be with you.

Forgive me.

What for?

What I did.

Who's asking what you did?

- Do you know?
- Well...

of course I know.

- I've hurt you.
- Yes.

I was very worried.

You hadn't told me
you were going to your mother's, so...

Off you went

without telling me, all at once.

Tell me...
You didn't catch cold, did you?

- What do you care?
- Come on, now.

I care a lot. Now...

you're here, I'm so happy

that you're back,
you aren't going to be ill, are you?

Here. Come here, my lovely.

Come and sit down.

You must be hungry.

I made myself dinner.

I didn't know you'd be here.

And I'm not hungry.

Don't forgive me like that.
It hurts me.

Stop talking about forgiving!
You'll be giving me ideas.

There.

Eat, my lovely.

Are you surprised

to see me making bread at this time?

I don't know.

Because, Aurélie,

I have to tell you something.

When you were gone,

I behaved badly. Yes.

I took advantage of you not being here

and drank some aperitifs.

Yes. And I stopped making bread.

What's this?

Who made this?

I did.

Funny shape, isn't it?

I cooked it in the kitchen oven.

I just threw in a piece of dough
and look how it fell.

It's the only one. I made it for you.

Well, I made it for me
but now you're going to eat it.

Go on, eat, my lovely. Eat. Eat.

Don't cry.

Well now!

There she is! There she is!

Did you see her come back?

Pomponette.

Hey, you tart!

Slut! Piece of filth!

So now you come back, eh?

What about poor Pompon,
who's been in a state since yesterday?

He was looking for you everywhere.
He was wretchedly unhappy.

And meanwhile, she'd gone off
with her alley cat.

Some good-for-nothing stranger!

A moonlight passer-by.

- What makes him better than him?
- Nothing.

Oh, well, you...

you answer "Nothing,"

but if she could speak,

if she wasn't ashamed,
if she wasn't afraid of hurting him,

poor old Pompon,

She'd say, "He's more handsome."
Handsome!

What's that small difference
between the two of them?

The Chinese are all the same,

Negroes look alike.

There's no reason,

just because lions
are stronger than rabbits,

for does to run after them,
batting their eyelashes.

What about affection?

What's affection to you?

Do you think your alley shepherd

would wake up at night

to watch you sleeping? Do you?

Do you think that if you'd left,

he'd let his oven go cold

if he was a baker?

And yet... Yet, if you take
everything into account,

Pompon is getting old.

She's young.
She could be his daughter.

So if that's what Nature wanted...

Be quiet, Aimable, be quiet!

There! There! Look at her.

She's seen the saucer of milk.

Poor Pompon's.
That's why she came back.

She was cold and hungry.

Go on, drink Pompon's milk.

He's pleased.

Tell me, will you be leaving again?

She won't leave again.

Because if you wanted to,

it would be better to go now.

It would be less cruel.

No. She won't leave again.

Never!

What is it, Aurélie? What is it?

I'm cold.

- I'm cold.
- What's the matter?

- I don't know. I don't feel well.
- Go to bed, Aurélie.

- No, I want to stay with you. I'm cold.
- Come on.

It's time to light the fire.
It'll warm us both.

- Would you like me light it?
- Yes.

That's natural. That's good.

You put it out when you leave
and light it when you come back.

It's how it should be.

THE END