All language subtitles for Kleider machen Leute

Kleider machen Leute.

(Children's choir chanting
a song about the Three Kings)

I'd love to be someone -
I'd love to be worthy in this world.

Rhyming again, Wenzel?

Be glad you're a tailor - in this day
and age when everything is going

- topsy-turvy, and nations are fighting.
- What good is a tailor anyway?

Our kind shouldn't think too much.
Makes a person unhappy.

I'm glad that I'm not much
of a thinker.

Half past five already - if you keep
dawdling like that, the Mayor's

tailcoat won't be done tomorrow, and
then it's goodbye, wealthy customer!

He'll rip your ears off,
and you can go looking for a new job.

What's wrong with you, Wenzel?
Always attracted to the higher classes.

Not only do you shave your chin,
just like the clergy.

You put on airs like
the King of Samarkand.

And now you want to strut around
in silk and velvet, quite the aristocrat!

You'll see what good it will do you.
Well, my waistcoat is done.

Now get that tailcoat done for the Mayor!
He who daydreameth sitteth long hours.

- Good night, I'm off for B�rbele.
- Hah, B�rbele!

You're one to scorn B�rbele!
Always after the unattainable.

In reality you'd be glad if
you had any girlfriend at all.

But girls ridicule you.

Fare ye well, Your Highness.
And don't forget to wear silk gloves

at court so that the noble ladies won't
see your punctured fingertips,

lest they ask about your line of work,
Count Thimble!

Good day, Master H�rrli.
It's freezing out!

As always, Sir, you are right on time.
From the first to the final try-on.

So, how's the tailcoat doing?

All done, as you requested.
Wenzel, the tailcoat!

If you had stood me up, Master H�rrli,
I would have needed to wear the old

tailcoat to the Council Celebration - but
it's turned a bit tight around here!

But God forbid, a Mayor in a tight
tailcoat! You, get out of here!

My whole reputation would be gone.
Clothes make the man!

- How utterly true, Sir.
- But where's the tailor with the tailcoat?

I'll go get him at once. Meanwhile, if
you would like to browse our cloth...

Maybe you would like to use our shop
for all of your clothing needs.

Let me first see your
miraculous tailcoat.

There's also some cloth from K�chli
& B�hni, from Goldach.

A proud man from Seldwyla would rather
go naked than wear Goldach clothes.

No, no, no, don't!

Please don't - this will be
a disaster!

Here is your tailcoat, a piece of art.
Wenzel knows what he's doing.

Whatever he works on,
it will be just fine.

Now, if you would just
slip into it.

What the hell is this?

The sleeves could maybe be made
just a little bit longer

and the back could be extended
by just a tiny bit.

That is supposed to be a tailcoat?
That's a monkey suit!

- I have no explanation for this mistake.
- But I do! You are a nitwit!

You don't know the first thing about
tailoring. Now help me out of this

baby bib, or I'll make it
come apart at the seams!

But I'm sure this can be fixed,
a bit here, a bit there...

This thing will never become a tailcoat
for a man of high repute!

But look, Sir, the tailcoat is
a masterpiece!

To hell with it, H�rrli! Did I order a
tailcoat for myself or for your apprentice?

I have never experienced such
disgrace in my whole life.

This story is going to make the rounds
in Seldwyla, count on it!

Do you want me to whip you? What
on earth has gotten into you?

I don't know, Master. While sitting over
that tailcoat, something got ahold of me.

And I must have dreamed I was
a noble man.

Then I must have butchered the
tailcoat so it would fit me.

I can't use an apprentice with visions.
Go and look somewhere else!

- My salary for last month?
- Be glad I don't sue you for the damage!

- Then I'll keep the tailcoat.
- Suit yourself. Now get out!

(singing a traveling tailor's
apprentice song)

Your Highness, would you have a penny
to spare for a poor, hungry man?

Please, Your Honor. A dog can't be
more miserable than I am now.

God bless you, Your Highness!

- May I enter?
- Come on in if you're not a tailor!

(stupid German saying)
Goodbye then!

What's that?

Oh, I beg Your Highness' pardon!
Would you like to sit?

But I am a tailor.

Well then, Tailor, make yourself
at home!

I took you for a nobleman with
that outfit you wear.

Say, how'd you get ahold of
that snazzy outfit?

No, it's a farewell present
from my master.

- Fancy a swig?
- I'd rather eat.

Be my guest!

So, where do you come from,
and where will you go next?

Where from? There.
Where to? This way.

That's all I know. One way is
as pathetic as the other.

Nothing is just sad. There is a
laughing side to everything

- in this world.
- Looks like it's all frozen solid for me.

Then come with me!
I am Christoffel, puppeteer.

I'm sure you heard about me?
Ah, everybody knows me.

A whole basket full of kings, devils,
counts, generals,

and beautiful ladies, too.

I'll make them dance any way
I like, just like God makes us dance.

The villagers like to call me crazy
because I have more brains than them.

But the children, they just love
old Christoffel. Ah, the children...

They look inside your heart.

- Let's march, the two of us!
- No more marching, I'll just die quietly.

Ha, what a foolish thing to say!
When you've turned 80, then you may die.

Let's get going! Happiness awaits
us, straight on!

Hey there coachman, a word
with your master, if you don't mind!

- Your Highness...
- Nobody home, I have yet to pick them up!

That's even better! Can you see
that gorgeous tailcoat over there?

Must be a nobleman. Strange stories he
tells. Why don't you offer him a seat

in your carriage. He will reimburse
you royally.

What a coincidence! An equally mysterious
nobleman, a Russian count,

has ordered this coach in Basle, and now
I am on my way to Goldach to deliver it.

The order came in a letter sealed with
a nine-pronged crown!

- Might it possibly be the same nobleman?
- I wouldn't dismiss the possibility.

One doesn't find foreign noblemen
too often around these parts.

But if he can afford such a stately coach,
why would he walk?

There will be a good reason. Now come!

Invite him politely, and don't be put off
if he refuses to be addressed as a Count.

He's a bit confused by infatuation and
romance - he pretends to be a tailor!

Indeed, upper class men sometimes
have wondrous fancies.

My friend the coachman here is completely
moved by your sad fate, Your Highness.

If Your Highness would please enter my
humble coach - I shall try to make your

journey as comfortable as humanly possible.

- I am not a Count.
- Don't linger - he means well.

This must be a mistake - I am a
tailor's apprentice! Wenzel from Seldwyla!

- Yes, yes, understood, Your Highness.
- Oh, a pouch full of ducats!

- My sincere thanks, Your Highness!
- What in the world do you have in mind?

I interfered with that great puppeteer up there.
Now you suckle Lady Fortune's sweet milk!

Just go with the flow, tailor,
and get happy!

You call this a road?
This is supposed to be Switzerland?

But Sir, instead of bickering would you
please help clear the road.

My fare is an icognito Count,
and he cannot be held up.

Excuse me, Your Highness, for disturbing.
Maybe the Count would...

- I am not a Count.
- Would you be so kind as to take me

to Goldach? My father would be worried
sick if I didn't arrive on time.

Out of the question, Lady Nettchen. You can't
just hitch a ride like that from a stranger.

I am not questioning your integrity, Your
Highness, but is just isn't done here.

But if I'd be allowed to ride along... the
name is Melchior B�hni, master taylor.

- Marchand Tailleur from Goldach.
- I am Wenzel.

I regret.

- Count Wenzel...
- (stuttering) I am not a Count.

- I mean, your destination is Goldach?
- Yes - umm, we'll see.

I would like to get out here.

This is closest to home - and besides, I
don't want people to see me with a stranger.

You understand, people gossip. I hope
Melchior B�hni won't tell my father.

- B�hni is a close acquaintance of your dad?
- My father is a cloth merchant, and

and Melchior B�hni is the best tailor. He
fancies himself "Marchand Tailleur"!

- Just tailor isn't good enough for him?
- He's a high-brow one, Melchior B�hni!

- So...
- I'll get off here, too!

I will escort the Lady home and walk
into town.

No, that won't be possible. You have already
gone out of your way for my benefit.

Good-bye. And many thanks.

Do sit, Your Highness. Please don't expose
your tender feet to that cold ground.

A heartfelt welcome. This way please.

Please enter. Your Highness wishes to sup?

Supper will be ready promptly.

Fresh from the kitchen.

- Certainly a foreigner.
- And a noble one, look at the posture.

By Jove, all we have is fish, eggs,
and vegetables?

That may be adequate for our kind, but my
master will throw it in your face!

He is a Russian Count, and one of the
foremost noblemen to boot.

Have Liese run to the baker's and order
a fancy cake with a nine-pronged crown!

- Oh my God!
- Now jump to it, prepare a worthy meal

I don't want to be blamed of eating all
the good stuff myself, and serve

bones and gristle to the guests - like they
say about innkeepers from Seldwyla.

- I shall do my very best.
- Just think, a Russian Count!

Your Highness, may I lead the way please.

- I am not a Count.
- I understand - I shall be very discreet.

The men's room - over there, that door.

His Highness is cold! He wears his coat.
Quick, put a few more logs on!

Should he tell the Seldwylans that in Goldach
you have to wear a coat at the dining table?

Stop the racket! Don't disturb
His Highness!

Wrong door, Your Highness!
This way please.

I trust the Count has found
everything to his liking?

- I am not a Count!
- My inn is simple, but the guest is King.

I am not a King either.

Is anything the matter?

Salt! Of course - please pardon
the oversight.

Enjoy!

A romantic Count from Russia - he is
so noble he hardly speaks a word.

- What did I say?
- Indeed, you can tell he's nobility.

Might his presence have something to do
with Lady Serafin who has been

- lodging here for three days now?
- By golly, that might well be the case.

She has been mentioning several times that
she's expecting a nobleman!

Mysterious airs are the fashion of the day.
A man of the world will ooze with

fancies, world weariness,
and melancholia.

Back in my day, suitors would think of more
practical nonsense, and were

- none the worse for it.
- Your words insult my sentiments.

I only wish the hero of your dreams, instead
of being a daydreaming romantic boy

turned out to be stately middle-aged
man with enough common sense

to talk you out of your
romantic infatuation.

Oh Lord, I knew it -
you'd faint on me again.

I have been sent to advise you
that your party has arrived.

- I beg your pardon?
- The Lady that Your Highness is expecting.

I am savvy in these things. One knows
how to put two and two together.

- I do not wish to be speculated on.
- As Your Highness wishes.

I shall treat this whole affair
with utmost discretion, Your Highness.

I am not a Count!

I swear it is the selfsame Count who ordered
the carriage in Basle. There must be a reason

for him to pretend not to be
identical.

Not identical? I bet he has made an inappropriate
political choice, and had to flee!

How handsome and melancholy he is! I'm
sure he has fallen for a poor girl,

- and can't have her because she's low-class.
- Oh well, nobility has their problems, too!

It's an honour for all of Goldach to host
such a nobleman.

One ought to be of service to him, and
advise him of the beautiful surroundings.

He also might take pleasure in our spotless
and immaculate respectability.

What does Your Highness fancy now?
Franconian wine, Champagne?

- I am not a Count. Champagne!
- Very well.

Our city's notables ask for your kind
permission to pay their respects.

By all means.

Mister P�nzli, apothecary.

- Mr. Nievergelt, merchant.
- Purveyor of fine foods.

Mr. Haeberlin jr., son of banker Haeberlin.

Name of Wenzel.

Would you do us the honour of
joining us at our table?

Might I offer a cigar to the Count? I get
them from my brother, straight from Cuba.

- Tobacco from Smyrna!
- Straight from the plantation in Virginia!

Too generous, kind sirs! Many thanks.

By golly, the Count is a bonvivant! To
watch him sip and sample his wine...

And the cake is all gone,
except for the crown.

His style of eating may not be the most
elegant, but I can tell that this is the style

of veritable generals and squires.

May we invite the Count to join us for a
ride to the manor of Mr. K�chlin? He has

- invited us to the usual Three Kings drink.
- The best place in Goldach, please come!

- I don't know...
- But Mr. K�chlin will be devastated!

Please do join the fun. You will meet nice
people there, and it will alleviate your

- melancholia. I shall have your carriage...
- No! I don't want to use the carriage!

That's what I call noble! He wants to
spare the tired horses and the coachman.

We can offer you a ride
in our lowly sleigh, if you care to.

- I would just like to pick up a few...
- Never mind, Count. I'll see to it.

I shall also have Your Highness' quarters
ready by the time Your Highness returns.

They will be directly opposite
said Lady's quarters.

What decency he musters to suffer through
these simpletons' hospitality.

And still deeply in melancholia despite
the ruckus they make. Oh, dearest...

Mind your sensitive heart,
Lady Serafin, lest you faint again.

My heart is already on fire - I wonder what
will happen when he graces me with

- his enchanting presence.
- If only we hadn't ventured into this!

You don't even know the Russian Count's
name. Let alone his character.

And what's even more important: The
approximate amount of his estate.

I know everything about him. His constellation
is so close to mine - it just has to be

a dream come true, I can feel it
right inside me.

Your astrology mumbo-jumbo will backfire
one day. But why am I talking - you won't

listen to me anyway. You wrote to him
without knowing the first thing about him,

and without ever having
met him in the flesh.

And his perfectly chivalrous reply was
that he would like to meet me!

He is an astrologer like myself, he has
to be a noble-minded person.

I have little respect for men resorting to
the stars in order to woo a sensitive woman!

As you see, Your Highness, us lowly burghers
do know how to enjoy the good life,

although our pastimes are nothing like
the pleasures that your kind prefer.

But although we are well versed in geography,
the great Russian Empire remains a mystery.

Where exactly is your mansion? My paternal
aunt's cousin used to have kinfolk in Kiev.

Do please tell about your interesting country.
I trust you are highly esteemed at court.

Russia is being talked about so much lately.
One person says this, the other says that...

For certain reasons
I do not wish to talk about it.

So, would the gentlemen fancy a card game
until dinner is served?

- Agreed?
- I don't want to be a spoilsport.

Fabulous! Let's get those
ducats rolling!

- What will be the stake?
- To honour our illustrous guest, let me

suggest one Brabantian Thaler.

I am not in possession of
this particular coin.

Always troublesome to exchange money
when one is traveling nowadays.

The Count's button is worth one
Brabantian Thaler, no problem.

Your Highness...

- I'm in. One Thaler.
- Me too.

I'm in, too!

Unhitch the horses, Ivan. We have reached
our destination. And take care of the bags.

Not that table. Over here,
if you don't mind.

Please have a few rooms readied, and get me
some red wine punch.

- Dinner, too?
- Later. Ah, innkeeper, let me ask you:

Has a foreign noble lady arrived lately,
or has her arrival been announced?

Indeed, Sir, a noble lady has been lodging
here since two days. May I ask...

Have you also heard of a new carriage from
Basle, to be handed over here?

That is only partially true. The new owner
of the carriage has already arrived with it,

one Count Wenzel, from somehwere
in Russia - a noble man indeed.

- What?
- Yes, our humble inn hosts nobility!

It would seem so, indeed. Do you know any
details about this Count Wenzel from Russia?

There is an air of mystery about him. He
travels incognito, and he maintains

that he is not a Count. I am sure he is the
victim of some political conspiracy.

- Or maybe a family feud.
- You don't say!

- It appears.. I can count on your discretion?
- But of course!

Appears that there is a strange relationship
with Lady Serafin, exactly that lady...

She seems to expect the Count here, and he
made vague references to...

- This is getting better by the minute!
- What amuses you so about it, Sir?

There she comes, the lady!

- What can I get the ladies?
- Hot chocolate and pastries.

Doesn't it appear strange to you that the
Count hasn't contacted us immediately

- after his arrival? One would think...
- You think too practically.

His noble restraint and his shyness will
not allow him to impose on me.

Maybe the stars are not favourable
for our first encounter today.

Innkeeper! Would it be feasible to give a hint
to the stranger - his gawking is annoying us.

- The ladies...
- I beg the ladies' pardon. Now, where would I

find the coachman who brought
the carriage here?

- I think you'll find him in the kitchen.
- Furthermore I would like to be introduced

- to Count Wenzel.
- That will not be possible. He is currently

at cloth merchant K�chlin's.

- Count, it's all yours.
- May I suggest we finish here.

Nobody can beat your luck today.

Money always attracts more money.

- Your money, Count!
- I am not a Count.

Then you'll need it even more!

- One button's missing!
- I would so love to keep the button

in rememberance of Your Highness, so that
even the Haeberlin grandchildren may get

a faint glimpse of this glorious day.

There you go - now everbody
has got one.

How utterly original. Very sophisticated.
Those Russians - so open-minded!

We still have some time until dinner. How
about a little ambulation?

The cold day has turned into
a very nice evening.

I would actually prefer to retire
to my quarters now.

Please pardon my oversight. I forgot, the
strain of traveling. But maybe you could be

convinced to make yourself at home
in the garden room?

If you wish to rest, by all means
please do!

We will awaken you
at dinner time.

Every inch a Count. Such noble ways
are innate.

- And his command of our language!
- You could take him for a native speaker.

And the modesty! He acts as though
he was one of the lowliest people.

(Chime plays German folk song: "Always be
true and honest till your dying day")

Oh, the Count?

Why hasn't Father told me about your visit?

You didn't mean to say good-bye already?

No, I was just about to get
some fresh air in the garden.

There isn't much time left for walking about.
Dinner will be any minute now. Coming?

I would rather chat with you in here for a
while, if it isn't too cheeky.

- But my company will bore you.
- Certainly not.

I am very pleased to see you again.

- You have a wonderful home.
- Please do not mock us, Count. We are

ordinary people, living the way
that befits us.

Although Father has made a pretty penny,
as he keeps saying, this must appear

small and limiting to you. Compared
with your castles...

I always feel more comfortable elsewhere
than I do at home.

I need to - I must - not stay -
take my leave now.

My dear Count, I just heard from Mr. B�hni
how nicely you treated my daughter today!

But girl, why haven't you told me? The
Count will take me for an impolite boor!

I thought you might be upset because I was
not supposed to ride with a total stranger.

But no... well I think you were afraid
you'd blush, telling about the ride.

- But father!
- Your Highness, meet Mr. Melchior B�hni.

We have met before -
if very briefly.

- The name is Wenzel.
- Much obliged for helping out my fianc�e.

Dinner is served!

The ladies are trembling with anticipation
to make Your Highness' acquaintance.

Out of sheer politeness you now have
to walk around buttonless.

Let me fix the two remaining ones
for you.

He has hardly even touched the food.
Such a polite person, and always blushing.

That's the refined style. Our young people
should consider him a role model.

- The ladies are smitten with the Count.
- If it wasn't for the fact that this is Goldach,

one might be afraid that a few ladies
might forget their good manners.

- I beg your pardon?
- We can't say that out loud.

Magistrate, I cannot vouch for this Count.
I think there is something fishy going on.

- But what makes you think so?
- Have you seen his table manners?

He seemed completely unfamiliar with table
customs, always trying to copy his neighbour.

But he is a foreigner! I am sure in Russia
there are different table manners.

You would be in trouble, too, if you were
supposed to dine Russian style.

No, I am not convinced.

Melchior B�hni, do I notice a bit of
jealousy?

The Count seems indeed to have taken
an interest in my Nettchen.

- I am sorry to bother you, Lady.
- Don't be.

There, you see? You must put the
thimble on the other finger!

And see, here, you need to thread it
this way, and leave a bit of slack.

See, that's how it's done.

- I am impressed. You know how to sew?
- I most definitely do!

Oh, Count, you have it in you! But still, I
won't have any of this, me being a tailor!

With your kind permission...

Hear, hear, Lady Nettchen - why did you
offer the Count this shabby old thimble?

How about the new golden one that I
gave you for Christmas?

- It's impossible to sew with that thing!
- But it's mine!

- You travel with a thimble?
- An old good luck charm of mine.

Certainly a family heirloom.

- A thimble, of all things? Quite peculiar.
- I find that peculiar, too.

That is very strange indeed. Pierced
fingertips like a tailor, and an old thimble?

Be that as it may - he is much to savvy in
tailoring for a real Count.

But the whole town would
be the laughing stock...

Sir, a gentleman here to see
Count Wenzel.

Count Wenzel! Finally I found you!
We took you for dead!

Please pardon my intruding, but I am
overenjoyed to see my young master.

What, Wenzel, don't you recognize me? It's
true, it has been many years, but I'm sure

you will recognize your old Alexej - oh,
excuse me, Alexej Stroganoff,

- educator and manservant of Count Wenzel.
- I am not a Count.

But Count, you don't have to maintain
your incognito any longer.

- There! You ought to be ashamed of yourself.
- What if Stroganoff is an accomplice?

Enough already! Mister Stroganoff, it is
an honour to welcome you to my home.

If your time allows it, would you care
to join us for dinner?

But maybe there are more pressing items to
be discussed with your young master?

But no! We will retire to have a private
discussion later, no hurry.

- Wouldn't you agree, Count Wenzel?
- Yes indeed, there is no rush.

- May I invite you to the dining table?
- Thank you very much, but I have dined.

- So you are the host's daughter?
- Yes, Sir.

Miss K�chlin, beware of the Count! He knows
how to woo a lovely lady.

Am I right? He's not much of a talker, but
listen to his heart speak out loud!

But I am not a Count - you are mistaken,
everyone is mistaken!

Mr. Stroganoff, would you mind telling us
what brings the Count to Goldach?

Now, Count Wenzel, it's time to confess.
May I do it on your behalf?

Yes, please. Sooner or later it just
had to come out.

There once was a noble lady who, according
to the fashion of the day, was very much

infatuated with astrology and romance. She
calculated from the stars' constellation that

there was a man who would be the
perfect counterpart - a supplement for her.

That man turned out to be a certain Count
from Russia. Our beautiful astrologer

would send him many enthusiastic letters,
overflowing with grace and charm, so that

the Count thought it worthwhile to meet
the charming young lady.

He replied without divulging his name and
agreed to meet the lady, just like she

had requested - in a romantic setting, at a
neutral place.

It so happens that your lovely town of
Goldach was chosen because it sits

exactly in the center of a fortunate
astrological constellation.

I have always said there is something special
about our town - it could be a metropolis!

So much for the facts of the matter. How it
will progress? Ask the stars.

But you will have to figure out the names
in my story yourselves.

- Count Wenzel and the lady at the inn.
- Not true! I have nothing to do with that.

I don't want to hear another word
of that story.

How about it, Melchior B�hni, play us a song
on the piano, my daughter will sing along.

She has a beautiful soprano voice if I
may say so myself.

Don't believe it, Count. I am just
a humble beginner. Please, father,

- don't insist - this will bore the Count.
- But I would love to hear you sing!

Do sing a merry song, young lady! This will
alleviate the Count's melancholia.

The lady knows a song
that makes fun of tailors.

It's actually a song that mocks the
people from Seldwyla - us Goldach dwellers

- just don't like them Seldwylans.
- And vice versa!

There once lived a tailor in Seldwyla,
a credit to his profession.

He only made the finest of garments,
and he was a catholic.

And above him, on the top floor,
a Hungarian duchess dwelled,

with a purple silken undergarment,
and her initials embroidered in gold.

One day she went promenading in the park,
our bold tailor would follow behind

and hoping to get friendly with her,
he stepped on her left heel.

But instead of being grateful, she turns
around in anger and stares him down.

She yells at the lovesick one: "Away
from me, bold tailor!"

That hurt our tailor very deeply, he did
not have the will to live any longer.

He took his large, gleaming pair of scissors
and cut off his scrawny tailor's neck!

Now here's the moral of the story: Little
tailor, don't fall for a Hungarian duchess

with a purple silken undergarment,
and her initials embroidered in gold.

Dreadful sorry, Your Highness. We cannot
seem to find your luggage!

Inside the carriage we only found a
bundle of worthless items that obviously

belongs to a vagrant - God only knows
by which mistake it ended up in the coach.

I have ordered to have that crap burned.
Here's my most stately suite.

- A good night's sleep, Your Highness.
- Tomorrow we will procure the necessities.

I hope you will grace my house
with your esteemed presence.

And mine. My father would
be honoured by your company.

You already promised me, if I may
remind Your Highness.

- Good night.
- (Stroganoff replying in Russian)

Dearest Count! The stars did not lie! I am expecting
your visit. Affectionately yours, Adelaide Serafin.

Does the Count require anything?

I sincerely beg your forgiveness, Sir.
There has been some terrible mix-up.

I am not a Count - it's just...
I mean, it's all appearances!

I am just a poor tailor's apprentice,
and I am penniless to boot.

I will not be able to pay
any of this!

But Your Highness won't need to play hide
and seek with me! I don't understand...

Oh Lord - you don't understand me...
Why don't you just believe me?

I have no idea how all of this came to be -
I am totally lost here.

- You must be jesting!
- Far from it - look at this!

I get this love letter from this
astrological affectionate lady...

- but I don't want anything to do with this!
- But you started this adventure yourself!

This is bound to make me go crazy. I am not
who you think I am. I am Wenzel!

I am a tailor from Seldwyla. Name of
Wenzel, nice to meet you.

But please, do rest now. The long journey
and the unaccostomed walk have

- I have been walking my whole life!
- Made you ill. Tomorrow you will

remember everything, and all
will be well.

Your rest will be safe, do not worry.
Ivan will guard the door the whole night.

The Count's manservant requests
a meeting, right now. Quick, get dressed!

Now, hurry up, the dressing gown.

Please pardon yesterday's slip-up in the
restaurant. My intrusive behaviour may be

- explained by my mission.
- I am all ears!

I have the great honour and pleasure to
tell you on behalf of my master, the Count,

that yesterday's annoying display of
hospitality by the Goldach burghers

has kept him from hurrying to you, but he
asks you for a supper - just the two of you.

Candy? What time would be
convenient for you?

Thank you. How about twelve noon? No,
let's make it 11:30.

I am happy to convey the good news
to my master.

Thank you, Sir. Oh, how do I
address you correctly?

I don't have a title. My name is Alexej
Stroganoff - I am the Count's bond servant.

By the grace of his late father I first
became the Count's educator, then his

manservant. I am actually
a tailor by trade.

- Oh, a tailor?
- Yes, tailor to the Count's family.

A tailor so close to the Count? That's
what I call an original caprice.

Ah, but don't look down your nose at tailors.
They know a thing or two about the good life.

Tailors have been known to be taken for
Counts, and vice versa.

You must be jesting. True nobility always
shows, and a tailor will always be a tailor.

(whispering) Yes, I am hurrying!

Mr. K�nstli asks to make do with his humble
offering for the time being. Your Highness'

misfortune of being devoid of
your luggage has been talked about.

Now what is this?

(speaking Russian-tinged German)
Innkeeper sends me with best silk

dressing gown. Please!

- What is all this?
- K�chlin, trader of cloth, have sent.

Because Your Highness
be without luggage.

- What time order the barber?
- I don't give any orders.

I trust Your Highness had a good night's
sleep. Now please let us proceed to

take Your Highness' measurements, just
like Your Highness ordered.

- I am honoured to do it in person.
- What? I am supposed to have...

- Your manservant asked for it.
- Beg pardon for overstepping.

Good morning, Count Wenzel. Hope you had
a good night's sleep.

As a minimum we will need a grey, an apple
green, and a lavender tailcoat, complete with

matching sets of vest and trousers.

I will boost the Count's silhouette with a
touch of Goldach class.

- Was it you that tailored all these clothes?
- Indeed, Your Highness - everybody with any

class at all in Goldach will have their clothes
made by Melchior B�hni, marchand tailleur!

Right. And you call that good
craftsmanship? Look at those scruffy seams.

The back needs some breathing room.

Collar is dangling, sleeve is askew!

In Seldwyla you wouldn't get away
with that kind of sloppiness.

You see, master B�hni, Count Wenzel is an
expert in elegance, he's not fooled easily!

Now leave. We may request your services
for more appropriate tasks.

For the time being, your own
tail coat will make do!

And now, Count, wipe the sleep from your
eyes, and the tailor, too, get ready

for a beautiful lady awaiting your company!

Very pleased to make your
acquaintance.

Let's have breakfast.

- Cheers.
- Here's to the stars.

If you say so.

- You were saying?
- Oh, there's no need for words

between people who have an
immediate understanding!

Yes. Better say nothing at all.

You have Gemini in the ninth house,
and my ascendent is Virgo.

- That says more than words can say!
- How about a sleigh ride?

- You should call a servant!
- No, I prefer to do it myself.

Your Highness.

Innkeeper, a word! For tonight, have a
festive table ready, and exquisite wines.

Count Wenzel has asked the town's
notables for dinner - his treat.

Dinner will be perfect.
Your guests will be satisfied.

Count Wenzel!

- What's the rush?
- I was - um, I was running from myself.

I don't understand.

Sorry, I was absent-minded. I wanted
to get a bit of exercise walking.

- It's such a beautiful day.
- Good thing I caught you. I was going

to call at the inn anyway. My father says
to thank you for the invitation, and to ask

if you would care to join us for a sleigh
ride to the mountain top?

The place affords a grand view
straight back down in the valley.

Do get on board, Count!

Yes - yes, Lady Nettchen,
I will join you!

Count Wenzel, what's the matter? Lady
Serafin is expecting you back!

I don't have time for the lady. Stroganoff,
you'll be kind enough to stand in for me.

Oh, so you found my money pouch,
thank you very much!

That bird has cast his feathers!

If it isn't Lady Nettchen!
Care for company?

Is anything the matter? You are
so quiet and subdued. Trouble?

No. It's just - I am a simple girl, and I
cannot provide you entertainment like..

- Like who?
- Ah, don't listen to my stupid musings.

But believe me, it was just for your sake
that I did... please believe me!

Soon you will travel on, and Your Highness
couldn't care less about a little girl's thoughts.

If you will please excuse me now.

Count - Count!

I am not a Count. I am a tailor's apprentice. I am
poor, and not worthy of your affection. Farewell.

By the time you read this letter, there will be no more Count
Wenzel, but just a wayfaring little tailor on the road.

He will be happy, but also very sad.
Very sad because he will love you forever.

Your Highness hasn't dressed yet? The
carnival party is in full swing!

- I will not go.
- You can't do this to the burghers of Goldach.

You are to lead the polonaise
with Lady Serafin!

- This year's party is quite rowdy!
- It is to be hoped our noble guest won't mind.

Why are you so glum, dear Count?

Just like we agreed, Stroganoff. This is
the best time and place for an engagement.

A while ago it seemed that the Count had taken
an interest in the Magistrate's daughter.

- Both of them, my dear Haeberlin, both!
- But now B�hni has got the upper hand.

You are far too worthy, Lady Nettchen,
to be a nobleman's plaything.

- If he's noble in the first place.
- You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

What do we know about him? The fact that
everybody is awed by him does not prove

that he deserves it. I have my own thoughts
about him.

One day he will be gone with Lady Serafin,
and people will point fingers at you.

- Ach, be quiet.
- Even if he was a Count - he would be

out of bounds. Not your class.

A nobleman shouldn't fall for a middle-
class girl. Bound to turn into a tragedy.

Lady Serafin is a much better match.

It's this time of year - young suitors on the
prowl like tomcats, and girls looking innocent.

Thank God us Goldachers take no pleasure
in such heathen doings. Unlike Seldwyla,

our carnival is chaste and in the
Calvinist tradition.

- Now, girl, do you like the masquerade?
- Not too bad, father.

- May I ask you for the next dance, mylady?
- No thanks, on behalf of the lady!

Such a nice couple. I bet the Magistrate
wouldn't mind this son-in-law, right?

- Hold your tongue, Haeberlin. She's mine.
- Easy now, there was no formal promise.

All I said was that I wouldn't mind if you
and my daughter became a couple.

A tailor would be a nice partner
in my company.

Melchior B�hni is a handsome man.

And he might even have a good heart. Maybe
he's not such a bad tailor after all...

- just maybe a bit on the sloppy side.
- Will you stop talking about B�hni already!

- So far I didn't think you liked him a lot.
- Well, I mean, B�hni...

- Aw, stop talking about him.
- But Nettchen, I have to talk to you in private.

Let's go outside and find a quiet spot.

- She's all over the Count.
- Come on, this is just childish infatuation.

She's drawn to his title, but she's so young -
she will grow up fast, and forget all about him.

And she will be rational enough to know
she will never be a nobleman's wife.

Would you announce the engagement tonight
if she were to agree?

Why not.

You were saying?

Lady Nettchen, adverse circumstances
brought me to this town.

I don't want to be an obstacle to your
happiness. Maybe this is our last good-bye.

I believe I'll have to move on
before it is too late.

This letter will explain everything. But
please don't open it before I am gone.

But you are cold - and please, please,
don't start to cry!

- I am not worthy of your tears.
- At first I didn't want to believe it, but.

B�hni was right from the start.

I will tell B�hni yes if he asks me.

I did get you correctly, Count, right?
Don't mix and match - stay in your class.

I wish you all the best with Lady Serafin.
What's more, the stars seem to agree!

Nettchen, I love you!

I'll stay with you!

Ah, there you are, Nettchen! I have spoken
with your father, and he agrees

if you say yes! He would announce
the engagement right here and now.

Too late, Melchior B�hni.

Lady Serafin, I feel obliged to inform you
that I have just been betrothed to.

Miss K�chlin. I beg your pardon, none of this
is my fault, I can't prove it, but it was

very romantic. So I guess this time
the stars weren't right for us. Farewell.

- Count Wenzel!
- This is an unbelievable insult.

- I suggest you depart immediately.
- Calm down. I owe you an explanation.

Hide and seek is over now. I am Count Alexej
Alexandrovich, the recipient of your letters.

Even back when she was still at school,
the spoilt brat would romance about

marrying a flashy foreigner - a great pianist,
or a bandit chief with long curly hair!

Well, now you've got him!

- A tailor, you say?
- Seeing you take this tailor for a Count

hurt me as much as it amused me.
So I didn't say anything - I actually

encouraged him, much to his dismay, and
watched the plot unfold as a seemingly

- innocent bystander.
- Lord Almighty!

I had the tailor by a string, just like a
puppeteer. But I forgot to take

the tailor's heart into account - and he
gave it away to someone else.

There, the gosling is all yours, but by all
means send her back if she

freezes and cries and moans
in your cold country.

Too bad your mother didn't live to
see the day, how happy she would be!

The spoilt brat is to become
a regular Countess!

I shall never forgive you, Count, for
having taken me for such a fool.

I did not ask for forgiveness. I would have
pursued if your heart would have forgiven

the false Count. As things stand, let's
just terminate our romantic encounter.

I shall depart before everything
comes to light.

And I will stay until I have seen to the
tailor's happiness!

Dear fellows! It is my great pleasure
to announce the engagement of my

daughter Annette with Count Wenzel.

Friends and family will celebrate this
coming Sunday at the Schwyzer Eintracht inn.

Long live Count Wenzel
and his esteemed bride!

"Man makes clothes."

"Clothes make the man."

- What's this ruckus about?
- Carnival! Maybe they heard about the party.

Come on, Wenzel! This is
going to be good fun.

When we enter the ballroom after lunch,
you guys start your thing.

Ladies and gentlemen of Goldach, allow us
to present a special dance for your party.

It will be a distraction, but it will also
have a moral quality.

The tailor's trade is the best profession.

That has always been so, and will stay
that way. The tailor provides everyone

with their suitable clothing.

The tailor is more powerful than the Pope
or the Emperor!

That is because people judge others by
their appearance.

Mister King, where is your red velvet robe?
Without it, you cannot be King.

So, Mister Count, where's your suit?
Without your clothes, you are not so noble.

For those standing on the sidelines
in ragged clothes, they will stay forever.

But those in silk and satin, they will be
revered and respected.

Everybody, regardless of their status,
will need the tailor's services.

He will give them their reputation
and make them earn money

and will disguise
the Neanderthal.

A nobody, respected by nobody, will enter
the tailor's shop.

But he will leave as a flashy beau,

and everyone will take him
for nobility.

(mock goat sound because tailors
were stereotyped to wear a goatee)

In Seldwyla there once lived a tailor
who so wanted to be a big man.

He fell in love with the nice clothes that
he made, and he romanced about

being Count Thimble.

The tailcoat for a renowned customer, he
butchered it so it would fit him.

But his master found out, and he sent him
out the door, including the tailcoat.

He hit the road in that tailcoat
and ended up in the rich town of Goldach.

There he was well received in the higher
circles, and met with awe by everyone.

By his stilted behaviour and French
exaltation he tricked even the smartest ones.

Now hear this, you notables: Count Wenzel
is nothing but a poor little tailor!

(slightly inebriated) Now lookee here! If it
isn't Wenzel, the apprentice from Seldwyla!

In the Mayor's fine clothes! Looks like you
made the best of your new life.

I am happy to see you in such wealth, and
I much enjoy your carnival.

Say, are you employed in Goldach? With
master B�hni perhaps, Count Thimble?

"He who flies high -
will take a deep fall"

(mocking the town of Goldach)

Citizens of Goldach! Go get them!
Down with Seldwyla!

Where do you think you're going? Wasn't
my little charade good enough?

Will you marry me now? Once a tailor,
always a tailor!

- It was you who started all this?
- Yes!

We'll show you!

- Where in Heavens is my daughter?
- With the ladies, I would think.

No, Magistrate! She has run after the
tailor! What a nice little abduction.

That dreaded tailor, he will pay for this.
Goldachers, after him!

Magistrate, Goldachers - hear me out
before committing another foolishness!

None of this is
the tailor's fault.

Forgive... me.

Come on.

Which leads to the conclusion that it
was you who made him a Count.

And to make things right I hereby declare
that I am ready to adopt him as my son.

Easy now, Count. We won't make it that
easy on us or on him.

We, with your kind permission, prefer a man
who makes clothes and acts like a Count

to a Count who is only elevated to
nobility by his clothes.

Bravo! Hats off to your righteousness.

And if that tailor really is the honest person
that you make him to be, he will return

together with the girl, and
own up to his wrongdoing.

Come, let us flee to a place where nobody
knows us - where there's no Goldachers

- and no Seldwylans.
- No, Wenzel - no more fairytales.

- What if they make fun of you?
- It won't matter as long as we're together.