All language subtitles for Quatre nuits dun reveur 1971 720p BluRay FLAC 2.0 x264-VietHD_track3_eng

Where to?

Get in.

Thank you.

Four Nights of a Dreamer

First Night

Leave me alone.

- Don't touch me.
- Don't stay there.

Quick.

What's wrong?

Give me your hand.
I'll take you home.

I'll be there, same place.

Under the statue of Henri IV.
Tomorrow, same time.

I'll have to.
I could not help it.

Second night

Do you know why I came?

No.

We have to be very clever.

I've never done anything
as clever.

I don't know you.
Sit down and tell me your story.

My story?
I have no story.

I see no one.
Speak to no one.

Story of Jacques.

I live at 6, Rue
Antoine-Dubois.

A kind of loft on the second floor.

How many times I was in love.

With who?

With no one, an ideal,
the woman in my dream.

That's stupid.

Yes. And God sends
an angel to show me the way.

To reconcile me with myself.

In the park we walk
together hand in hand.

Hoping and losing hope.

The castle is strange.

She's there half the year
with her old husband.

He's silent and boring
and scares us a little.

But our love is pure
and innocent.

Pure and innocent.

Pure and innocent.

I find her again in Venice.

Isn't it her, in this palace
of lights and music?

It is. She is dancing.

She is dancing.

She sees me.
We leap onto the balcony.

She tears her mask off and trembling
she whispers in my ear:

"Jacques, I am free."

Ended are the sorrows
of the ancestral castle,

of the old garden,
of the old husband.

In the park we walk
together, hand in hand.

Hoping and losing hope.

The castle is strange.

She's there half the year
with her old husband.

He's silent and boring and
scares us a little.

But our love is
pure and innocent.

I find her again in Venice.

Jacques, do you recognize me?

Yes.

The Art School.

Of course.

Craftsmanship is dead.

Chardin's brioche,

Manet's peonies.

Van Gogh's chairs and
clodhoppers, it's all over.

I am for a mature art,
open to its time.

Which does not burst in
contact with Nature

but simply is a meeting of
the painter and a concept.

Do you understand?

No thank you, really.

What's crucial is not the object,
not the painter,

but the gesture which lifts
the presence from the object

and is suspended in a
space which delimits it

and in fact supports it.
Do you understand?

Not the object there,
not the painter there,

but the painter and the object
which are not there.

Their visible disappearances
make the canvas.

A canvas sensually structured

as to form an enlightening
and specifically solid whole.

Do you understand?

Look at these spots.

Did you make them?

Yes. And the
smaller they are,

the larger the world
they define by suggestion.

One does not see the spots.

One sees everything that
is not there. Perforce.

Thus, we're obliged,
we painters,

to re-think fundamentally
the problems of art

by updating, as it should,
the process of its functional drift.

I must go now.

See you soon.

For sure?

For sure.

In the park we walk
together hand in hand.

Hoping and losing hope.

The castle is strange.

She's there half the year
with her old husband.

He's silent and boring
and scares us a little.

But our love is
pure and innocent.

I find her again in Venice.

Isn't it her, in this palace of
lights and music?

It is. She is dancing.

- Is that your life?
- Yes.

But yesterday you
came straight to me.

I was happy yesterday.

It was Sunday and
I had been in the country.

You are not happy every day?

Some days are horrible,

when it seems I cannot
go on living.

I see people in
turmoil and rage,

while my dream becomes
flat and boring.

Then I realize that all that was
so dear to me never existed.

There is nothing to regret.

What I have lost is
a perfect zero.

Stop to make me feel sorry for you
and give me a piece of advice.

Story of Marthe

I live with my mother
where you know.

We barely exist on
my father's alimony.

Every year we rent out a room
next to mine in the corridor.

How is he?
Nice? Pleasant?

What is that?

What is that?

Books lent to us
by the boarder.

Confess that you want
me to marry. - Me? Why?

Because you always
rent out to men.

Be careful, Marthe.
With or without a pretext of marriage,

men know how to manoeuvre girls
and when they've had enough...

I know, I know, mum.
They dump them.

Are you the young girl?

Let me go down.
What are you doing?

Do you want to go to the
movies with me tonight?

Don't answer.
We'll go where you want.

Alright?

It's not nice of you.

She's tough.

The Bonds of Love

Who got you these seats?

- Guess.
- Him?

- Is he going too?
- No.

Let's not go.
It's a nuisance.

Marthe, my dear,
he deprived himself for us.

- A film premiere is boring.
- Not always.

We have fallen into a trap.

Let's go. Come.

We can't.

A trap?

A trick.
He wanted to punish me.

Who did?

The boarder who got
us the seats.

Punish you for what?

For not going to the cinema
with him on the first night.

- You think so?
- He confessed to me later.

I thought we'd see
him more often.

But mother, I never saw him.

He's leaving and you
told me nothing.

- I thought you knew.
- Me?

Yes, I forgot.

Take me with you.

But...

You must take me with you.

- Are you going?
- Yes.

- Far away? - To Yale in America.
I have a fellowship.

I'm bored here.
Let me come with you.

It's impossible.

Martha, my dear.

How would we live?

I don't know.

I swear to you,
when I return...

If I am fit to be married...

And if you still love me...

In a year from now, here,

day for day, same time.

It has been a year.

He returned three days ago.
But he didn't come as promised.

How do you know?

I know. It's the third day.

What if I went and talked to him?

Is it possible?

Not really, but write
him a letter.

I can't and I don't
want to force him.

You have the right to.

He tied himself with a promise

and left you entirely free,

even to refuse.

How would you write the letter?

Tell him, I don't know,

that for a year you lived
with hope,

that you were happy

but that now the doubt
is unbearable.

Tell him:

"I don't blame you if
you have forgotten me..."

Why the formal "vous"?

"I don't blame you if
you have forgotten me"

"but I know you are incapable"

"of causing such pain"

"to the one who loved you so
and still loves you."

It's absolutely right.

Thank you, thank you.

He agreed that
as soon as he'd arrive,

he'd let my friends know.

I can't go there. Be kind,
deliver my letter to them,

they'll forward it to him.

If there is an answer, bring it
to me tomorrow night at nine.

But the letter,
you must write it.

It can't be done 'til
after tomorrow.

Here's the letter.

With the address for delivery.

See you tomorrow.
If it rains...

But it won't rain.

Third Night

It's done.
I delivered your letter.

Do you know why I'm so glad?

Why do I love you
so much today?

I love you because you're
not in love with me.

You're so sweet.

When I am married, we'll be
more than brother and sister.

I will love you almost
as much as him.

You say that because you
are nervous and afraid.

You believe he will not come.

If I believed that I would cry.

You are afraid.

Don't worry.
We'll welcome him together.

I want him to see how
much we love each other.

How much we love each other.

You know what happened
to me today?

First I did what you asked me.

At home, I worked and
it was going well.

Then I threw myself on the bed.

Suddenly time stopped.

And I had only one feeling,
one desire.

And then a musical phrase,

heard long ago and forgotten.

Soft, marvelous...

I felt like I had waited
all my life for that moment

and now...

What do you mean?

Eleven.

Don't cry.

If he couldn't come and
he answers in writing,

his letter won't arrive
until tomorrow.

Tomorrow I'll go to your
friends and let you know.

You don't mind?

There are still a
thousand possibilities.

It's true, I hadn't
thought of that.

What a little girl you are.

It's because of you that I cw.

Why isn't he you?

Not made like you?

You're more clever and
more kind than he,

but it is him I love.

Of course, I don't know
him that well yet.

But how he looked at me

when I came to his room
with my bag.

You love him more
than anything.

More than yourself.

Maybe.

But why does a man always
have something to hide?

Why not just say what is
in one's heart,

as if afraid of
wasting feelings

by revealing them too quickly.

There may be many reasons.

You're not like the others.

I feel that you give up
something for me.

How can I tell you?

It's silly. I don't know.

But I'd so much want
you to be happy.

What you've told me about
your dreamer is false.

You're very different from
what you pretend to be.

If one day you fall in love,
she will be happy. I know it.

He will not come today.

It is too late already.

He will come tomorrow.

Now we are bound
together forever.

Marthe, Marthe...

Tomorrow maybe.

Maybe.

Fourth night

Still nothing?

He hasn't come to see you?

He can do what he wants,
I don't give a damn.

Don't stay there.
Come.

Don't tell me he'll come.
He will not.

And why? Why?

Was there anything wrong
in my letter?

And to think I was
the one who wanted him.

It's not possible.
We are mistaken.

He doesn't know yet.
He hasn't received the letter.

Or maybe someone spoke
badly of me.

Anyway, not another word.
No more letter.

Enough. I don't love him
anymore. I'll forget him.

You wouldn't have
behaved like that

with the one who had
come to you.

You'd think her unable
to defend herself

against her love for you.

She is innocent. Yes, innocent.
She didn't do anything.

What's the matter?

I love you.
That's the matter.

I knew it but I thought
it wasn't serious.

I can't help it.
It's not my fault.

Something tells me I'm right.

Because I could never hurt you.

I'll always be your friend.

Sit down.

No, I'll go.

You were the first
to talk of love.

You're the guilty one.

Stay.

To say what?

Come on, speak.

To say that I believed you
didn't still love him?

Even if you'd gone on
loving this man,

I'd have loved you secretly.

What have you done to me?

Let's go.

Listen, since he
abandoned me and forgot me

and although I still love him,
I won't cheat on you.

Listen to me.

How could I have been so careless?
So blind and stupid?

Let's part.
I only torment you.

I want to leave.

One second. You can wait one second.

Wait for what?

I love him. But it'll pass.
It must pass.

Tonight will end it.

I hate him, he doesn't give
a damn about me.

You love me.
He never did.

I love you as you love me.

I had told you that before.
You remember?

If I love you, it's because
you are superior to him.

Let's go in.

I was true to my love.

For a whole year
I have loved him.

And I was never unfaithful.

He didn't respect me.

I don't love him.

Because I can only
love what I esteem and admire.

It's better than if
I had been wrong

and learnt later
who he really is.

Maybe my love was
only an illusion

because I was under my
mother's thumb

and I wanted to get
away from home.

What I mean, Jacques,

is that although I love him...

No, although I
have loved him...

If despite that you can still
push him out of my heart,

if you can love me

as much as you do today,

then...

Then...

Are you happy?

Let's go to the drugstore.

We must go now.
It's time.

Don't leave your loft but come
live with us. You'll be our boarder.

The room is free.

Look at the moon.

Look.

Is it you, Marthe?

Who is it?

It's him.

She sees me from afar.
She flies towards me.

The night is
luminous, marvelous.

The only such night
in a lifetime.

All is forgotten in
an enthusiastic cry.

Separation, pain, tears.

"Jacques, forgive me
for being wrong."

"I was blind."

"I hurt you as
I hurt myself."

"I have suffered for
you a thousand deaths."

"But it's you I love."

I am astounded, elated.

O Marthe, what strength makes your
eyes shine with such a flame?

And lights your face
with such a smile?

Thank you for your love.

And be blessed for the
happiness you bring me.

She sees me from afar.
She flies towards me.

The night is luminous, marvelous.

The only such night in
a lifetime.

All is forgotten in
an enthusiastic cry.

Separation, pain, tears.

"Jacques, forgive me for
being wrong."

"I was blind."

"I hurt you as
I hurt myself."

"I have suffered for you
a thousand deaths."

"But it's you I love."

I am astounded, elated.

O Marthe, what strength makes
your eyes shine with such a flame?

And lights your face
with such a smile?

Thank you for your love.

And be blessed for the
happiness you bring me.