All language subtitles for Ettore Scola-1982-The Night of Varennes

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Ladies and gentlemen...

In this little box
I'll show you a new world,

with distance and perspective.

One sou per person.
You'll see wonders!

We came straight
from Venice by boat,

with our musicians to show you

this wonderful invention.

With it, you can see for yourselves

the greatest events of history,
old and new.

Come, bring your children!
See our wonderful machine...

Step right up. Put your eye

to the miraculous keyhole,
the mirror of history.

Look at good King Louis XVI
and his Queen.

The Queen
in the midst of her people.

Notice the Queen's sumptuous attire!

And now, a great episode!

Those who were there can see
it again in the magic machine.

Come on! Good day, sir and madam.

Something very important happened

two years ago: 1789.

The storming of the Bastille!

Fortress of tyrants,
prison of men and ideas!

5,000 Parisians, on July 14th,
leave their homes.

while their children sleep

to forge a new destiny.

83 dead, 88 wounded, poor people.

Admire, impaled on this lance,

the Bastille Governor's
severed head.

The symbol of the fall
of the old regime,

of the triumph
of the Third-estate!

Come on!

October 5, 1789:
10,000 starving women,

and a few men in women's clothes,

go to Versailles to ask the King
for bread for their children.

6 hours on foot in the rain!

Here we meet a beautiful woman,

with a medieval sword.

The fascinating
Miss Theroigne de Méricourt,

in love with war, with revolution,
but especially with men.

Messalina and Joan of Arc!

She loved
the battle of love and war.

The King,
the good daddy of the people,

appears on the balcony.
10,000 women scream:

"The King back to Paris!"

So he'll return to Paris.

Marie-Antoinette
with her friend Axel de Fersen

is afraid to appear
as the crowd is chanting

"Come on out. Great Harlot!"

La Fayette leads her
on to the balcony

and kisses her hand.
The people,

being kind-hearted, as we know,
begin to shout:

"Long live the Queen!"

"Our Queen!" So the women
went back to Paris with the baker,

the baker's wife
and the baker's son,

meaning that Their Majesties'
presence in Paris

guaranteed them bread.

Name any event,
I'll give it to you!

The magic box
shows you a new world,

with distance and perspective!

One sou per person.
You'll see wonders!

"Agreement between the subscribers
and the author.

"Two copies for the price of one.

"Louis X
and The Human Heart Exposed,

"450 copies printed of each.

"Subscribers
include the King and Queen,

"the Crown Princes,

"the Ambassadors of Russia,
Prussia and Spain..."

England, Hungary,
Sardinia, Naples, Vienna...

Correct that's how Citizen Restif

paid his wife's alimony
and his legal costs.

200 subscribers at 100 louis
adds up to...

Adds up to zero!

My father selected their names

and none of them
have bothered to answer him.

It's not enough to write,

print, publish books.

You have to sell them!

"My Calendar."

Each day is dedicated
to a woman my father loved.

365 women?

No, far more!

Often 2 women a day, even 3.

Feb 8. Sister Pinon,
of the Grey Order of Bicêtre.

Her job was doing my hair.
I hid my head in her thighs.

She'd say, squeezing my head:

"Make the most of it, lad."
She'd come, too.

April 27. Nanette Precy.
My first woman...

It happened in a stable.
I was 9, she was 16.

The first time for both of us.

Later, we wept for joy
in each other's arms,

May 10. Bathilde Boujard.
I met her in a bordello.

Only later,
after the wildest delights,

did we discover she was
my daughter Bathilde..."

My name's Agnes, not Bathilde.
I have lots of little sisters.

It's scandalous!
I'm... outraged!

I can tell!

There are almost 400!
We'll read them on your next visit.

Tote up the books and include
the figure in the report.

I know it: 1230!

I met your father on one
of his nightly tavern rounds.

He'd read his stories for hours.

Some nights we'd walk him home

to hear more of his stories.

My mother said
most of the people he brought home

were vagabonds,
beggars and thieves!

Most were. I was among the others.

Thomas Paine: "The Rights of Man".

Introduction to the French edition.

I presume your father
got an order to print this.

From Mr. Paine himself.

You know the famous writer
of the American Revolution?

He's not doing it for free.

Certainly not. But so far,

he's had no advance,
not even for ink or paper.

I'm impounding this material.

- I'm not sure you have the right!
- I'm sure!

"Any source of profit may be
impounded until a debt is repaid."

You'll have a long wait!

How can he pay if you impound
his sources of profit?

That's the law. Anyway...

when you've had 400 women

paying alimony
only to one is a bargain!

The kind of bargain
you'll never experience!

Charity! Alms! Have pity
on your less fortunate brethren!

On those grounds,
I qualify for alms, too.

Anyway, let's shake hands, brother!

I'll introduce myself: Nicolas Restif
de la Bretonne. And you?

- Half-pint.
- Half-pint! Delighted!

Owl!

Is that you, Owl?

My lovely Faustine. A pleasure!

I recognized your footsteps,
you scoundrel. How's life?

Trying hard to wear me down.

- Headed for my place?
- Of course!

I was at the café Manoury.
I thought of you, and here I am.

You always were a good liar!

You didn't think of me.

True. I was just passing by.

But when you called out, I was about
to think of you, I swear!

So come on up.
You'll meet someone nice.

It's too late.

Tonight I've got printing to do.

Must be urgent
if you don't have time

to sing a lullaby
to a lovely young thing,

whose tiny feet are encased
in green satin mules with pink heels.

Pink?

The biggest of my many mistakes

was refusing your hand in marriage.

You still remember?
We were two puppies.

My business was taking off,
you'd have had money

and a supply of young girls.

I only had eyes for you.

That was so long ago!

Anyway,
you loved your shady friendships.

Darkness was your domain.

You were the first to call me
"The Owl".

- Nathalie!
- I said with an "M"!

Hurry, Manon.

- Mariette.
- No.

- Melisande.
- No.

Despite my talent for lying,

I'd best forget
how many of them are underage!

Come along.

Feast for the eyes,
ecstasy to the soul!

Undeniable proof of God's existence!

To have loved others,

is like having wasted
one's sword in water.

Oh, to fondle...

those tiny...

sparrow's feet!
Those slim, doe-like ankles!

He's a great writer.

Nicolas Edmé Restif de la Bretonne.

Does that mean
I have to do something special?

Just what you usually do.

Intellectuals or blacksmiths,
they're all alike in bed.

But intellectuals talk more!
Hubertine!

I'm late!

I'll be damned! You, too, honor
with your presence this place of...

My daughter works
at the Royal Palace.

She's in charge
of the Queen's bouillon.

You can't have her!

You're already here?

I was about to leave at 11,
but they locked

my door from the outside.
That lasted an hour.

Around midnight,
the door was unlocked. I went out.

One of the floor-polishers
told me

he'd seen the Queen
go out around 11.30.

She was going to her husband's bed.

No, when that happens, the King
goes to her bed. But it's very rare.

There was a commotion in the galley
overlooking rue de l'Echelle.

But the page who sleeps
by the King's door saw no one!

What happened in the Palace
between 11 and midnight?

He's an old friend of mine.

And the nosiest man in Paris!

Professional concern:
I write the truth.

Then what has been rumored
in Paris for a month

has occurred?

What was rumored?
I heard footsteps and voices,

but when I went out,
all was normal.

Not to rush things,

but here
we're still at my tiny feet.

If La Fayette stayed,
instead of fleeing abroad...

like d'Artois,
Condé, Polignac, d'Orléans,

it means he's for the King.

They hope other European Kings
will help them crush the Revolution.

Listen to this:

"A perverse Queen
eggs on a cowardly King

"who is plotting
to slaughter all patriots.

"Our gold and weapons
are sent abroad.

"The tyrants around us pounce
on a starved and unarmed France."

Impossible, no?

Louis' brother-in-law
is King of Austria...

Can I help you?

I'm looking for a friend,
a coachman.

You didn't see...
a Royal coach leave?

A Royal coach? No.

From rue de l'Echelle, maybe?

I don't recall.

So everything's normal.
No activities.

What kind?

The nocturnal kind.
I don't know, maybe...

Good night, corporal.

- They said 2... You're alone?
- For the time being, yes.

I'll give the other
to your servant. Wait here.

The ladies are coming.
Don't follow too closely.

Sure...

Who are you?

A stranger who couldn't resist

helping such a lovely lady.

- How did they find it?
- By searching!

Couldn't you stop them? You can
handle men, when you want to.

Law-men want things to take away,
not to consume on the spot!

It was the only profitable job
I'd had all year!

My poor little girl.
That fate gave you such a father!

Mr. Paine said not to worry about
the manuscript. There's no hurry.

But I'm in a hurry to get paid!

He said that... when?

3 hours ago.
He came to say good-bye.

He's off to Metz for several weeks.
He'll get in touch

when he's back.

Several weeks... He left you money?

A little. But it's for me!

For you! Little bitch!

Metz, you said?

We need money
not only for the seizure,

but for the butcher,
the baker, the stationer.

They can wait to get wealthy!

I've waited 60 years!

Out of the way!

Strawberries for your journey!

Passengers for Sens, Auxerre,

Mâcon, all aboard!

Hats for sale! Old hats!

134 pounds!

Wendel and Paine.

Two for Metz.
That coach will be departing 3rd.

- You're Mr. Paine?
- My friend.

A gentleman to see you.
He said to wake him up

as soon as you got here.

Mr. Restif. What are you doing here?

My daughter
told you of the seizure.

"Man cannot live on poetry"!

I don't have much money on me.

It's not prudent when traveling.

I can give you only
a few ducats. Here.

But don't worry. We'll deal
with all that when I'm back.

Come and meet Mr. de Wendel.

May I introduce my friend,
M. Restif de la Bretonne

Mr. de Wendel
owns foundries in Alsatia.

Only they can make 10-ft iron bars.

I need them for my project.

That you showed
to the Academy of Sciences?

Your partner dropped out?

Passengers for Meaux, Châlons,
Verdun, Metz, all aboard!

It's there, Madame.

Hurry, you!

A single-arch bridge 300 feet long!
I can't sleep nights!

All those people!

Well, good-bye.

I'm up by the coachman.

Take care of them.

Be very careful...
The other one, too.

They're fragile.

I must leave, too.
An unforeseen event.

But I have no reservation.

Nothing doing. We're full up.

Up there... There's room for 3.

If you have a ticket.

But I can... I can pay you.

We're late! When are we leaving?
There isn't room for 3!

Where to?

I'm going to Verdun...
to Metz... depends.

See if they'll sell you a ticket...

Thank you, fellow.
I'll be right back.

We'll be traveling together.
Where are you going?

I haven't had the pleasure, sir.

Yet... I have a feeling
I've seen you before.

Highly unlikely!

The lady with you, too.
I've met her before,

somewhere.

Hardly. Madame doesn't associate
with your kind!

A German traveler wrote

of the politeness of the French.

He didn't meet you on his travels!

Lottery tickets!

One ticket to Metz.
Sorry, I'm in a hurry.

You getting on, so we can leave?

It's uncomfortable...

We're waiting for you!
We're late already!

- I'm coming, sir.
- Get moving!

I'm sorry, sir.

I'm a student in Paris. My name's
Emile Delage. What's yours?

Marie Madeleine.

It's taking hours!

- Out of the way!
- Hurry!

Wait for me!

I have to leave, too!

Bastard!

A horse!

I have to catch up
with that stage!

- A horse? We'll see.
- How much is it?

Are you sure his ducats
were counterfeit?

Absolutely.
Whereas mine are real.

You can be sure of it.
I know that man...

A shady character, a crook,
a traveler without baggage.

You noticed?
I pretended not to know him!

I hope he doesn't lodge
a complaint.

About what?
We were ready to leave

and he had no ticket!
His own fault!

I hate flowers!

Restif wasn't what I expected.

He came to bid farewell
to Mr. Tom Paine.

He has exquisite manners.

What did you expect?
An obscene faun?

Like most Frenchmen, you've only
read "The Perverted Peasant",

or "The Peasant Wife".

But he's written
novels and essays.

- Thank you, Madame.
- Don't mention it!

...anthologies, over 100 works.

He writes his "Paris Nights",
day after day.

Quantity doesn't mean quality.

That holds for nature's
works and men's.

But he writes with such style
that some think...

Restif de la Bretonne is a pen-name
for Beaumarchais or Diderot.

I haven't read his works,
but I'm told

they're so full
of scurrilous material,

they should be burned in public.

With their author?

If it were up to him,
he'd have no qualms.

I've only seen him smile

when, before popular juries existed,

he could pass death sentences
all by himself.

Don't make a face, dear!

Have you read them, Madame?

That man's books, me?
I wouldn't dream of it!

I would!
And with the greatest pleasure.

I found them uniquely inspired
on the subject of man,

of woman, of love amongst
our good people.

I'm glad to hear
some aristocrats

don't scorn the people.

None of us here scorns the people.

But to go as far
as make them the heroes of books!

We should read this Restif, too.
Right, Mr. Baldi?

Sounds very instructive.

Though we don't need lessons
in that field!

3 or 4 years ago,
I read something by Restif

in a journal, I think.
What struck me,

was that he spoke
of sudden upheavals, and disorders,

and it has all come
about as he predicted.

You, the wealthy,
don't be harsh and haughty!

Beware, judges.
A deadly revolution

is in the making.

The nobility
hasn't understood the people.

The clergy
has lost contact with them.

Soon the people
will fight social injustice.

Everyone will be a citizen.

Listen to the voice of a plebeian
who lives with the people.

Artists can often
sense what's afoot,

they understand the causes,
know who's responsible

long before others do.

I hold your "artists"
to be among

the most responsible.

All your philosophers
and encyclopaedists,

who discredited the regime,

through irony and doubt.
Like Beaumarchais!

His "Marriage of Figaro" is more
dangerous than 10,000 mortars

aimed at the nobility. Yet what
happens? He is applauded at Court

out of coquetry and stupidity.

I applauded him.

A sure sign of stupidity

is being deaf to criticism.

Wise words, Countess.

Providing you accept the worst
when it happens.

I think that the worst
has already happened.

Stop!

Help me!

Are you hurt? Try to get up.
Give me your hand.

Nothing broken?

No, nothing.

You're not much of a horseman.

In my youth I was. But the years
have caught up with me.

- As you can tell.
- They caught up with me, too.

I had to settle
for that poor nag,

because of a slippery hairdresser.
But I'll catch up

with him and his Countess.
Their flight confirms my suspicions.

- Are you sure you're all right?
- Don't worry.

I hit myself way below my head!

Now please help me,

catch up with that coach.
On this horse, I'll never manage.

It's on your way, I'll explain.

I'd like to, but this is
almost an "uncharitable".

"Uncharitable": so-called because
its small size exempted the driver

from having to give a ride
to a friend or acquaintance

traveling on foot.

Forgive me if I insist.

I can't offer you money,
only my gratitude.

Perhaps even posterity's.

Isn't that
too great a commitment, sir?

This event will become
one of my "Revolutionary Nights".

I'll mention you, if you'll let me.

But I haven't introduced myself:

Nicolas Edmé Restif de la Bretonne.

The author of "Fanchette's Foot"?
Of "The Bastard Daughter",

"The Parisian Couple", "The New
Abelard", "Contemporary Women"?

At your service.

And thank you for not mentioning
"The Perverted Peasant".

I've read and enjoyed that, too.

But I can see
why it may not be your favorite.

Some fathers prefer
their least gifted children...

To whom do I have the honor?

Chevalier de Seingalt.

When I saw the Countess
get into the stagecoach

When I saw the Countess
get into the stagecoach

with the 2 packages
that came from the Palace,

I concluded she was following
some important person.

My suspicions were well-founded.

You're saying that right now,

Louis Capet has left Paris?

He may be traveling
on this same road. But where to?

I find it hard to believe.
He's such a coward.

When he moves,
it's only to go hunting.

Dante said it long ago, when
he meets Hugues Capet in Purgatory:

"I was the root of the evil weed

"That Christian lands
in shadows kept

"Ne'er did much good
come of its seed".

I knew Louis as a child.

I was loyal to his father until...

What year was it?

Seventeen hundred...

There's the stage!

- Fasten your belt.
- Belt?

It's there. Tie it on. Now, watch!

Hold on tight!

Move!

Catch that stage!

What?
They're not allowed to pass us.

We'll get killed! Put me down!

You hear me? You're mad!

- Let him by!
- Get back!

I'm going to faint. I've fainted.

Virginie, darling!

We're near Meaux.
They'll need fresh horses.

Maybe we should let them by.

Never! Chevalier de Seingalt
eats no one's dust!

Not the King's.
Nor that of a nameless scoundrel!

Sniff, Madame!

Make way for de Seingalt
and de la Bretonne!

Make way for genius!

How amusing!

Meaux relay!

I need no one. Here! Move over!

Bring my toilet case. Hurry!

My toilet case!

- A quiet spot?
- This way, sir.

Friend, did a very large
carriage go by

this morning, from Paris?

Wait...

This morning, around six.
They wanted 11 fresh horses!

3 saddle-horses for 3 horsemen,
2 for a carriage,

and 6 for a huge coach.

I never saw one so big!

How'll they cross
the Somme bridge?

Who was inside?

The curtains were drawn.

They say it's a Russian noblewoman
returning home.

Quite a way to go!
Put your hat back on, please.

And loaded!

The head flunky, a tall fellow,

handed out ecus like pennies.

Did likewise at the Clayes relay,
and at Bondy.

If they got here at 6, they must
have left Paris at midnight.

I also heard a child's voice,
a little girl.

Strange hours to travel!

Sneaking out incognito...

Meaux relay!

Mr. Baldi has to pee.

You were in a big hurry
this morning: what happened?

I told you:
I've never had the pleasure!

Madame, what a journey!
Not too shaken?

May I?

You, here?

I'll tell you why I'm here.

Last night,
someone left Paris in secret.

I think I know who it was.

You mean the King?

- You knew?
- Yes.

The Marquis de Lafayette who
I knew from the American revolution,

burst into my room this morning,
saying:

"The birdies have flown."

The King's bed was empty.

So you left to chase the King?

No, my trip with M. de Wendel
had been planned.

What are you doing here?

Observing.

We're here, in Meaux.

It's 10:30.

If they left at midnight,
they'd be at Montmirail,

then Chaintrix, Châlons,

St. Menehould, Clermont...
Careful!

Verdun, Metz.

They want to reach
the eastern border

and be protected by the troops
of Alsatia, Lorraine, Champagne:

90 battalions and 400 squadrons,

mostly Swiss and German
mercenaries.

Unless at Clermont

they make a detour
to Montmédy, here.

It's a mile from the border
with Luxembourg.

Where the King's
brother-in-law's troops are.

14,000 Austrians
ready to move on Paris.

Mr. Paine, if this plan succeeds,

then the old régime
will return to power.

The French people
won't stand for that.

I agree. They won't give up
all they've gained

in the last 2 years.
It would mean civil war.

It will be a hot day.

Come take off my veil.

Can't she take it off herself?

Come, Madame...

Life gets more expensive
by the day.

Tradesmen won't take notes.

They distrust the currency
of their own revolution!

- Leaving, Chevalier?
- That's the lady with the packages?

In my day,
I'd have led her a dance!

If I see the King,
I'll tell him to wait for you,

so a great writer
can witness his flight!

Thank you, Chevalier.

People like us,
responsible for the wealth

of this country,
have been saddled with more taxes,

and scorned.

Move, I hate children!

My poor husband, a landowner, used
to say: our biggest crop is taxes!

But you got even
by forcing up prices.

And then took over
the clergy's lands...

Strange man!

It's him. Now I'm sure it is.

I never saw such a tall man.

Remember at the coronation,
17 years ago?

Of course, it's Giacomo Casanova!

That's what I thought.
You're right, Madame.

I met him years ago at
the Cardinal of Strasbourg's court.

He had a great reputation
as a ladies' man.

Why didn't you introduce us,
dammit!

The stage is ready to leave.

I'll travel on top.

No... I insist.

You're too kind.

That reckless driver a gentleman?
How odd!

He still doesn't know
how to travel!

He knows other things...

Casanova...
Yes, a Venetian nobleman.

- Never heard of him.
- Neither have I.

What? Perhaps I should explain
that, at the time, my name

didn't cause much
excitement in France,

except among people
-mostly women-

I'd known personally.

Though "My Escape from
the Dungeon" had been published,

my reputation wasn't made
till much later,

through the success
of my "Memoirs"' written in French

and published after my death

which, as you all know,
occurred in 1798.

So it goes...

Never heard of him!

What are we waiting for?

Let's go! Let's go, hurry!

Had I known
that Casanova was hiding

under the name
of Chevalier de Seingalt,

I'd have expressed my admiration.

But he expressed his for me first.

From what I just heard,
I doubt his main talent

was as an author.

In Strasbourg,
he was known as a gambler,

as a man who ran lotteries,
designed textiles,

put on plays,
dabbled in the occult sciences...

As a seer, too!

But mostly
for his boudoir escapades!

I heard even

Madame de Pompadour
was mad for him.

It seems no woman
could resist your compatriot.

Thank you!
Did you really travel with him?

Certainly.
But I assure you I resisted him!

I barely saw him.
He must have been very handsome.

How old is he? 60?

Even 70. Does it matter?

In my country,
there's a saying...

What does that mean?

Well, it means:

"Go out with young men,
but go to bed with old ones".

This trip confirms that old Europe

still has writers
who can blend personal charm

with seductive language.

I won't discuss
Mr. Casanova's literary talents,

but as for his amorous exploits,

I have some reservations.

First, he's too big.
I told him:

the best lovers are always
of small stature. That's been proven.

"Proven" by whom?

The influx of blood,

which gives the virile member
its potency,

is all the greater and fiercer, if
the area to be irrigated is smaller.

Your conversation isn't fit
for a barrack-room! You're revolting!

No wonder: you're the author
of "The Pornographer".

Don't bother to read it.
It won't live up

to your expectations, dear Judge!

I'm sorry.

I'd like to catch some sleep.

Change places! Here, quick!
You've got some nerve!

Shame on you!

You should shut up...
with your filthy mind!

Eleven horses!

Teams changed at relays
further ahead,

returning to Meaux relay.

It could be a single team!

The countryside is full of horses!

A carriage drawn by 6 or 8 horses
would go much faster than us, right?

Not necessarily, sir. Depends
on the weight of the carriage.

And you can't always
find enough fresh horses.

Especially now,
in the haymaking season.

You always get fresh horses?

Sure. We're a State service!
Horses are always

waiting for us.

Must we talk about horses
this whole trip!

Thank you. How kind.

Look up there!

Etienne, look at them!

Pull up, François.

Need any help?

No thank you, my coachman
rode off to look for a wheelwright.

Mr. Casanova!

How did you know? I'm incognito.

Your reputation
travels faster than you!

That takes some doing!

True! We went at such a merry clip,
that one of our hubs broke.

Join us... until the next relay.

To refuse such...

such an invitation,
is a sign of my decrepitude.

That's all my worldly wealth!
I can't leave it unguarded;

- Someone could stay and guard it.
- In that case...

Maybe your hairdresser could stay.

Well, Mr. Jacob?

You'll stay
with Mr. Casanova's carriage

and join us at the next stop,
or the following one.

But, Madame, may I remind you...

You'll stay here!

Yes, I think...
I mean, I'm sure...

- I can't leave you all alone!
- Thank you for your help.

For wanting to stay.

My coachman will soon be back.
Take care of my things.

- Please...
- No, I'll go on top.

Our charming ladies
would never forgive me!

But I refuse to deprive them
of your company.

They'd lose on the deal!

You're in a delicate spot.

Those 2 gentlemen
have such regard for each other,

and I certainly won't travel on top.

Yes, of course.

The air will do me good.

After you...

The toilet-case
that fell onto the road is yours?

It didn't fall.
I put it there to caution drivers.

Now you can take its place,

to prevent accidents.

When you passed us earlier,
I fainted!

De la Borde...

I knew someone by that name.

He was Louis XV's farmer-general,

and his head valet.
I remember well.

He was my husband's father.

Now I understand why he was such
a dour, crusty old man:

he couldn't guess some day
he'd have a daughter-in-law like you

You've spent time
at the Court of France!

He's been the toast
of every court in Europe!

It wasn't a great privilege!

Courts aren't the gardens
full of rare blossoms people imagine.

I mostly met wrinkled old countesses
and princesses!

I mean, in my time.
These days, queens

judging by you, choose
their ladies-in-waiting better.

What makes you think

I'm a lady-in-waiting
to Her Majesty?

Yes... that's true.

How did I know you were...

You underestimate Mr. Casanova's
talents as a seer!

They're only part
of his great success.

He told you that in Louis XV's time,

old Count de la Borde
had yet to meet you.

Hence you married

the young Count after Louis XVI's
marriage to Marie-Antoinette.

Mr. Casanova,
hearing your charming accent,

fancied you might be Austrian

like Marie-Antoinette,

and, admiring your lovely figure,

concluded you were her age,

had grown up together in Austria,

and that when she became Queen,

Marie-Antoinette called you to Paris

as a lady-in-waiting.
Makes sense!

What about me?
Guess something about me?

That you're Italian... from Bologna.

You have character
and your husband...

Me? A husband? I'm an artist!

Art and husbands don't mix.

No way!
His wife looks like an old shoe.

He told her he had a case in Metz,

so he could follow me to my concert.

You're a musician?

Opera singer.

You loathe my friend
the tenor Baldi.

- Right?
- How do you know?

I heard you call your dog.

You so hate Baldi,
you gave your dog his name!

He's diabolical.

He guesses everything!

He knows all about us!
He reads us

like an open book.

He only has insights
when people interest him.

He guessed nothing about me.

I'm respectful: you're in mourning.

If a widow's inconsolable,
she's wedded to her sorrow.

If she's consolable, at least in
public, she hides her availability.

And if she's already been consoled,
she doesn't want it known.

In any event,
she'd rather not be unveiled.

I'm a winegrower in Champagne.

A reassuring activity.

Mr. Casanova
and Mr. de la Bretonne, I thank you.

It's a privilege for me,
never a ladies' man,

to witness your seduction lessons:
how to act with ladies,

how to interest them,

ask them questions...

Forgive me for covering my head.

I do it only
to take off my hat to you!

The gentleman's making fun of us!

He's one of the richest men
in France.

He can afford to!

Makes no difference to me!

I once horsewhipped
Salomon de Rothschild, the banker.

Maybe that's why I'm destitute now!

In that case, I must have walloped
every banker in Europe!

Gentlemen, you're mistaken.

I'm being sincere.

But your pasts are so eventful,
you neglect the present.

You haven't even noticed

the three ladies
here watching you.

The looks they're giving you!
Who knows,

maybe I'll witness
in this very coach,

between 2 relays,
your 1,000th conquest,

Mr. de la Bretonne or Mr. Casanova!

What a pain in the ass!

Why not give Mr. Wendel
that pleasure?

True, the conditions aren't ideal,

6 people in a carriage,

four more than necessary.

But you've been

in more desperate straits,

and come out ahead.
I remember,

Mr. Restif, reading

some of your truly perilous escapes,

with a husband
snoring in the same bed beside you.

Or in a confessional,

within convent walls,

on a river-barge,
up a tree, in a stable,

with a girl holding yarn,
for her blind mother

to skein.

You can't be defeated
by a stage coach!

Since you've read my works,
you know I never favored

the kind of women
who travel by carriage.

Then what would you do, sir,

to instruct Mr. de Wendel?

Maybe...

after an exchange of glances,
at the next post-station.

No. The husbands will be there.

It must happen in the carriage.

We could wait for nightfall...

And travelling in the darkness...

No.

The journey
will be over before nightfall.

At best, one could draw the curtain.

Like this...

This game doesn't amuse me.

Making love in a carriage,
which we may have done anyway,

or in the most secret alcove,
is all the same.

What matters is...

that there should be...

is that in love-making,
there should be...

should be...

There should be... what?

Mystery!

Even if America
fought harder for its independence

than for changing institutions,

your revolution
is an extension of ours.

It's a movement
that will affect the whole world.

I don't agree with you.
Nor does the American ambassador.

I sat next to him
at a dinner recently.

He said the new social order
being imposed here,

against religion, order,
and property,

seriously worries all Americans.

All? He and his pals
from the Southern states

are fearful of a constitution
that favors equality

and the abolition of slavery.

No, but even in New York,
Philadelphia, Baltimore,

they fear that France
won't manage to maintain

its stability and treaties.

Which would be a threat
to its trade with Europe.

America needn't fear
for its European trade.

As long as Europeans
don't stop eating.

Ambassador Morris also said

and I think that...

he was referring to you
and what you wrote about equality,

that the rights of man are
established by the laws of nature.

Which is why it never can be true

that all men are equal.

I, unlike you and Mr. Morris,
if you'll allow me,

wish for man's right
to enjoy the fruits of his labor,

within the common interest,

to be recognized
as soon as possible.

When royal courts stop plundering

poverty will disappear from nations
for the greater good of the many.

He never stops.

He's not working,
he's asleep on his feet.

Gilbert, you work too hard.

You work at charcoal
even as you sleep.

The stagecoach!
They're not there yet!

Carrying quite a load!

They'll have to stop at the climb.

And they'll want us to help 'em.

No chance!

The climb is too steep.
We must walk a ways.

All that smoke!

It's terrible for my throat.

What do
all those brawny young men do?

What opera
are you performing in Metz?

The program says "Dido Abandoned"
and "Don Giovanni".

"Don Giovanni"? Really?

I was at the première
in Prague 4 years ago.

Mozart conducted at his harpsichord.

Da Ponte, who had to leave, asked
me to stand in for him at rehearsals.

Mozart speaks perfect Italian.

He and I reworked a few verses
of the "Catalogue" aria. You know...

More smokestacks,

mean more machinery,
more dependence on workmen.

And those who manipulate them.

Agitators are using the financial
crisis to stir up the workers

First blacksmiths, hatters,

then fruitsellers,
carpenters, now iron workers...

In Paris, they're holding meetings.

Instead of working,
they go on strike.

I've actually seen it:
a workman stopping work.

Just suddenly stop working.

The most terrifying sight
I ever saw!

Forgive an amateur
for imposing on an artist.

Don't worry! I'm a contralto.
Leporello's a baritone.

Leporello's
as great as Sancho Panza.

He has all the anger of the servant

who envies and despises his master.

At one point he sings:

"I want to be a gentleman
and serve no more".

The impossible dream
of all servants of all times!

It seems you don't approve of
what's happened in France since '89?

I may displease some of you,

but I'll say no.

I don't approve because
things have grown uglier here.

Coachmen and servants
think they have

the right to be rude.

I miss the sweeter France of yore,

when all was harmony and light.

It was a good place
for a foreigner to live.

Dignity was respected.

Dignity is the first thing you lose.

Soon you'll have the people
as your monarch:

the most violent and tyrannical
of monarchs!

Stop it! I forbid you to say that!

I'm speaking to you, Mr. Casanova.
Or Madame Casanova!

I thank you for that!

You just proved my point!

In the older France,
no one

would have so rudely
forbidden me to speak.

Young man,
you should only forbid

- actions which can harm society.
- Words can be harmful, too.

Maybe. But to forbid them
is a step towards tyranny.

He's handsome,
but what a disposition!

In Bologna,
we call them "ball busters"!

The girl is charming, too. Not bad.

A bit dark, maybe.

If God made them black,
there's a reason.

Out of the way!

These roads
are truly getting dangerous!

Nature calls!

Good idea.

Wretched bladder!

I'm at that age:
you never stop peeing,

and what an effort!

You always get punished
in the places where you sinned.

True!

If it was limited to that area...

but the eyes, hands, feet,
they all weaken.

I don't have gout,
it's my kidneys.

You're lucky:
I have gout and kidney trouble.

In case you didn't notice,
I'm also a bit deaf.

What?

Finally...

seeing our fate:

poverty, illnesses,

sorrows, suffering...

They have one advantage:
they make dying easier.

I visited Voltaire
in his chateau in Ferney, in 1779.

He was dying.
We had a fierce argument,

but he fed me sublimely.

You two! Get some rocks
for the wheels.

Block the wheel. The other one, too!

Now push! Harder!

Mr. Baldi, I'm coming!

De Florange!

How are my other darlings up there?

Poor Mr. Baldi.

Were you scared, Mr. Baldi?

What did you do all alone?
Play with yourself?

An alfresco lunch,
hurriedly consumed,

and not by just anyone!

This bottle
is from the Royal cellars.

I forgot, you're a seer.

No, I'm just observant,
even though my eyesight is failing.

I've drunk that wine
at the King's table.

You know...

I saw you when I was fifteen.

Really?

Can you keep a secret?

You were my first love.

You met me too soon,
and I met you too late.

So it goes... Our traveling
companions are waiting.

Seeing it's you, they must think

we went off for
a flirtatious interlude...

For me, it was one, Madame.

Off we go!

"Enemies of the Revolution
have kidnapped the King.

"Loyal citizens
must wrest him from them

"and return him to the Assembly.

"Signed: La Fayette."

Orders are also hereby issued
to stop the 6-horse green coach

carrying the King and his family.

6 horses...

Carrying the King and his family.

I, Commander Bayon

of the 7th Battalion of the 2nd
division of the National Guard.

dispatched by the city of Paris
to arrest them,

here at the first stop
after a 6-hour journey,

do hereby send citizen...

Gabriel Vallet, Excellency.

Gabriel Vallet,
to the Châlons town hall,

to carry the above-mentioned orders

to all townships
from here to the border.

If it takes you more than an hour,
you're guilty of treason!

Leave at once!

You heard? Orders to arrest the King
and his entire family.

You can't arrest the King!

By now,
he's at the head of 1,000 hussars!

You knew about this?

I didn't know it,
but I foresaw it last night.

The King fled along this road today?

Mr. Baldi, maybe you can catch him.

How does the news strike you,
Mr. Paine?

A king in flight

grows less of a king by the minute.

- You're the host?
- At your service.

On his throne or in flight,
no king

ever made me miss a meal.
By the fire.

I saw him. But it wasn't him.
He wasn't wearing his red coat!

Yes, it was. Here.

There he is! Just as he was.

Supreme of truffles,
roast partridge,

foie gras, carp in sorrel,

cheeses, desserts, wines...

Bring me the lot!

They saw 6 people
in the large carriage.

An old woman, 2 ladies, one very
pretty, 2 little girls, a majordomo.

That's Mme de Tourzel,
the Royal children's governess,

Madame Elizabeth, the King's sister.

The pretty lady is Marie-Antoinette.

And the Dauphin, dressed as a girl.

And his Royal sister.

The majordomo in frock coat
and round hat.

The King? In a frock coat?

What's so odd about that?

A King can't flee
in his crown and ermine cape.

Much too showy!

The King isn't fleeing!
He's on his way to joint his allies.

For the good of France.

The pride of kings
throws humanity into confusion.

France is confused

because of people who wanted
a new government.

I love disorder.

No government is good.

Because
it enriches one part of society,

and impoverishes another.

More than either would be
in their natural state.

Governments, alas, are governed!

But worst of all,

is the government
of the aristocracy and the monarchy.

The two most tyrannical swindles
in the history of man.

For instance,

look at the Royal Beast of England,
dear George III.

He needed more subjects
overseas to squeeze like lemons,

to keep up the luxurious living
at his court.

But America...

General Lafayette edited that.

When did they discover he'd fled?

7 a.m.

When did you leave?

8 a.m.

What's happening in Paris?

The city's in turmoil.

How did you decide
they'd headed for Metz?

To meet up with de Bouillé's troops
at the border?

Obviously.

- Roast partridges!
- Fine!

Do you always eat that much?

Even when I indulged
in other pleasures besides eating.

It's superb!

In France, it's even worse.

4,000 privileged families,
princes de blood,

sword, or church,
who despise each other

and vegetate at Court,
indulging in every excess.

Since you're so well-informed
about Court life,

did you know those 4,000 families

contribute huge sums
to the Royal budget

and to charity?

The people don't want charity.
They want their rights.

Their rights... and the duties
that go with them!

The duty to respect their King!

A King by divine right!

The aristocrats were the first
to neglect those duties.

Most fled abroad
and forgot their King.

I don't share your ideas!

Don't get so excited!

As to that "divine right"...

How did the aristocracy obtain it?

Do they have special access to God
that the people don't have?

No, it's a trick to hand down
the office from father to son,

so that after a lion,
an ass may sit on the throne!

Bon appetit on this day of mystery!
Right, Madame?

Won't you have something?

Gladly, but I usually fast.

I have nothing against revolutions.
They can do good.

But those who make them
are seldom good.

For you the only good people are
those who don't make revolutions.

For us judges, this period...

For the likes of you...
Are you glad he escaped?

Marat was right: La Fayette's
in league with the King

and the great whore!

You swine!

- I forbid you to say that!
- Go ahead and stop me!

He can't stop a thing.
You can stop yourself!

For dignity's sake.

Aline, pick it up.

Sorry, Judge. Your cheese.

He has a liver this big!

What a trip!

They're everywhere!

I'm here. With all your things,
Mr. Casanova. All's well.

Good lad!

Like some?

Good!

Princess, give me a kiss!

What's a kiss to you?

Give me a kiss!

Come with me!

Princess... your King ran away,
I saw him.

He said to me: "Take that bitch!"

What a pretty neck!
For my brother-in-law.

He's an executioner in Paris!

What do you want? A kiss, too?

All right, Countess? It's all over.

You offended me more
than that wretch!

What is it, Madame?
Look at your hair!

That brute!

Marie-Madeleine, quick!

What's going on?

None of your business, sir!
He's such a pest!

Come help Madame.

Leave that alone!

People are restless.

Today... anything could happen.

Would you be kind enough

to say farewell for me,

to our tempestuous friends.

I haven't been consoled.
My life is a wasteland.

You took my breath away.

You made your 1,000th conquest
in that coach.

Please don't refuse.
Today anything could happen.

You said so yourself.

Make my happiness complete.

It's insanity, but take me away!

We'll go to my place in Champagne,
or wherever you want.

Please, Giacomo...

What you call insanity,

would have been
the height of wisdom

until a while ago.
But at the age of 66,

one develops another kind of wisdom,

that doesn't bring happiness,
but protects one

from disappointments.

It's cold today.

Where was I?

Thank you for your double offer.

Your beauty and your country house.

I'd have loved them both.

Believe me, only I will regret this.

This old man
didn't take your breath away.

It was his name,

his reputation,

his past.

Today, those things are gone.

In any case, Madame,
thank you again!

I'm glad to have met
the great Restif.

And I'll never forget
the Chevalier de Seingalt.

Your horse is dead.
Of a burst heart.

I can saddle another for you.

Hey, you!

I broke my ass on a saddle
for 40 leagues,

at 6 leagues an hour!

You have room!
Take me in your carriage!

Since you asked so politely...

See, Madame? That's the company
my new wisdom gets me!

Thank you for your precious help,
young friend.

I'll remember you.

And I you, Mr. Casanova.

A pity we didn't meet
in our youth... Who knows!

Of course... Why not!

One shouldn't turn down
anything on principle.

- My gout!
- You're fit as a fiddle!

Say good-bye
to your lovely mistress.

I won't fail.

Sir, if you'll allow me...

The supreme of truffles, partridges,
desserts, cheeses, wines...

Who will pay for them?

Me! If you'll shout:
long live dignity!

- Long live dignity!
- Bravo!

Here, my good man.
Here...

A letter of credit
signed by Count Waldstein,

the last of that noble lineage.

"I hereby agree

"to honor within 6 months,

"payment of the debt endorsed
by Count Wallenstein."

"...in the amount of...

"Write the desired amount
in the blank space.

"...on behalf of Mr...

"Write in the creditor's name.

"Signed and approved

"by the Chevalier de Seingalt."

Jean-Louis Romeuf,
aide to General La Fayette.

Did a Captain
of the National Guard

come through from Paris?

He just left by carriage.

But he'd been here an hour.

I must leave at once. A horse!
He gets a carriage!

Drink, Madame. It's cocoa.

Drink some, it always did you good.

Why are you crying, Madame?
It's over now.

The crowd spilled over from
the streets into the Royal Palace.

But only to look around.
They touched nothing.

In the King's room,
beside the huge ceremonial bed,

a woman sold cherries
for 6 sous a pound.

That's cheap!

People had climbed
onto monuments and bell-towers.

The General came out,

oblivious of taunts and insults,
and faced the crowd:

"Is it in the public interest
to arrest the King?"

Everyone shouted: "Yes!"

Then he said:
"I'll take care of it personally."

Gentlemen, at your leisure.
The stage is ready.

So the orders to capture the King,
passed on by that captain,

came from my friend La Fayette?

There was no mention of capture
in the General's orders. They state:

"The enemies of the Revolution
have kidnapped the King."

The General dictated them to me.

How dare that captain!

He altered the General's orders!

La Fayette
ordered both of you to leave?

Only me. The Captain
was sent by the Assembly.

Calling it a "kidnapping"!

What a brilliant idea
to save the crown!

But why did he do it?

It could divide the various factions

in the Assembly.

La Fayette's aide is here.

Mr. de Romeuf?

How many officers
are following the King?

Where will I sit?

There's our stage. What torture!

Now I'll sit beside the coachman.
I insist!

It's no place for a lady!

A lady is always a lady.
Wherever she sits!

You always talk of revolution.
Now I'll make one:

I'll sit
beside the citizen coachman.

That's Mr. de Wendel's seat.

Tell him to sit down!
It's unbearable!

Homeless?
The Royal Palace is for rent!

If you see the King:

lead him back to the stables!

Do you have a plan, Lieutenant?

When I get to Châlons,

I'll ask for news of the King's
kidnappers at the Town Hall.

I see.
The same place where Capt. Bayon,

who left with Casanova, hopes to get
news of the King's escape!

Kidnapped or escaping,
the King did well to leave

the Palace,
where he was under house arrest.

Humbled by the Assembly,

he'd become the shadow
of a monarch.

But the people are for the King.

They call him "good daddy",
and love him.

They'll rejoice when he returns.

You may be right.
But the people have changed.

The lower classes in the cities
and the peasants

realized they're poor.

Of course! Revolutionary
propaganda taught them that!

They're starting to wonder

if in the hereafter, after death,
the last will really come first.

Faced with that doubt,
they've become interested

in the here and now.

No, Mr. Restif.
I could give you countless

examples of the people's love
of its King.

His Majesty's trip to Cherbourg.

June 21, 1786.

Inauguration
of the Naval port of Cherbourg.

In the presence of King Louis XVI,
the last of the huge conical towers,

8 of which are already anchored
to the ocean floor

to mark off the harbor,
is towed out to sea.

I had the pleasure of being there.

"He and the crowd were one",

as the War Minister said.

The cheers of 20,000 citizens
drowned out

the salute of 600 canons!

I know you disapprove of all I say.

But if you'd seen him
at Cherbourg in his red coat...

He was my King, my ideal,

my religion.

May I have a look, Countess?

Traveling papers, please.

We're going to Metz.

I'm giving a concert.

I'm going to Metz, too.

- To Nancy.
- I'm home, I live here.

Did you have a good trip, Madame?

Get Madame's baggage.

Something's wrong...

They went through 2 hours ago
instead of 5. They were alone.

It seems the Duke of Choiseul
and his 40 hussars

left 15 minutes
before their carriage arrived.

They didn't wait! This was to be
the safest part of their journey.

With more soldiers at each relay.
What happened?

No one knows. I'll go get news!

What went wrong?

I saw the coach...

Drouet says he met them...

You're sure it was him?

It's the same face
that's on the notes! Look.

I waved and a woman waved back.

That explains all those soldiers
this morning.

I was at Clermont fair.
I saw 150 hussars!

They told us we were to escort
a treasure coming from Paris to Metz.

That reassured us local folks.

- Then what?
- What?

When was this "treasure"
coming through?

At 5.

Then at 6 a cabriolet appeared
carrying the strangest fellow.

He had little braids
and ribbons everywhere!

And frizzy hair!

And he was all dressed in yellow!

Leonard!
What was that screamer doing here?

Choiseul had given him a note

for Capt. d'Andoins. It read: "The
treasure won't come through today."

But the "treasure",
or something very valuable,

did come through.

And how! At 7.45,
a carriage appeared,

the biggest I've ever seen,
and a cabriolet.

But we'd had orders to unsaddle
our horses and were off duty.

What did the Captain do?

What could he do?
He came over and said:

"Things have gone awry.
Hurry or you're lost.

"Change horses fast
and away with you!"

Drouet had been out haymaking
in the fields. When he saw...

Who is Drouet?

He's our postmaster.

He saw the huge carriage, and feared
for the horses on the climb.

Now he says he recognized
the King and Queen:

as a dragoon,
he'd met them in Versailles.

As if Drouet hobnobbed
with the King!

Then a man
arrived with orders from Paris...

From Captain Bayon.

Don't ask me!
He said the King had left.

They were disarmed,
the Captain was jailed.

Drouet went to Town Hall,

and the mayor told him to go
with all speed after the carriage.

He left Verdun
about the same time as Guillaume.

Known as "Bignose"!

Then Baron de Goguelat's plan
didn't work!

Why? Was there a traitor?

No, incompetent officers,
disloyal troops,

towns in favor of the new order.

And our good people?

If they recognized their King,
why didn't

they protect him?

I don't know, Madame.

They're so different,
seen from up close.

I don't understand, tonight
they seem distant and hostile.

Those ingrates!

A pleasure meeting you.

I hope the rest of your journey
is pleasant.

One moment.

Mr. Baldi, come here!

Why are you here?

What are you looking at?
Let's go home.

This morning I woke up,

sensing something important
would happen to me.

The King and Queen came here
with their children.

So I said to myself:
"This is a big day for my inn."

I was wrong. The King wasn't it.

It was your coming.

That's what made it
a big day for me.

Careful!

Can we have drink?

Giacomo, it's Nicolas Restif!

I've had the pleasure.

- The husband of my poor Zephire.
- Mother!

My son! The husband of our Zephire.

You married my Zephire?

Yours? No, hers. Well, yours.

She's our Zephire.

Nicolas, Giacomo was my first love.

- Then you're my father-in-law?
- And you my son-in-law?

- Come, sit down.
- What a day!

All three of us together!

- Nanette, what about me?
- Plato, go away!

There's no room!

Madame is waiting for you.
We're ready to leave!

Go! Mr. Restif will travel with me.

We'll catch up with you.

Pig's feet, St. Menehould style.

Sir, if you wish to dine,
we have mackerel in sauce,

stuffed duck, or pig's feet,
St. Menehould style.

Bring everything.
Absolutely everything.

They're my guests.

Zephire left me after a year.

She left me for a better world,
at least, I hope it is.

Yes, pneumonia

carried her off in 3 weeks.

No one told me... me, her papa!

Listen... I'll tell you a secret.

Your Zephire wasn't my daughter.

Too many of them have been
attributed to me, too.

But as the saying goes,

one's never too sure of the father.

Or of the mother.

I have no recollection

of this Madame Nanette.
I'd never seen her before tonight.

Then why did you go along
when she said...

Who knows?

Love of intrigue, gallantry,
a sense of theater...

I don't know. When she hugged me,

as I came into the inn, I knew
I'd never met her. But why say so?

Why disappoint a woman past
her prime in front of her villagers

Then I'm not your son-in-law?

Since I'm not your father-in-law...

I'm not so sure

my Zephire was
Nanette's daughter, either.

It happened on a journey,
a long time ago.

Shortly after Zephire's death,
I stopped at an inn.

The proprietress had just lost
her daughter in Paris.

Her name was Zephire!
What a discovery!

In truth, some of the details
didn't tally.

But why quibble?

Nanette's grief was so genuine.

She was so glad to meet
her poor daughter's husband!

And in those days,

Nanette was still a great beauty.

So we pooled our sorrows

in her bed, for 3 whole days.

"In the Palace a perverse Queen,

"incites a cowardly King

"to massacre all patriots.

"The gold and weapons of France"

"are sent abroad so tyrants

"on our borders..."

Help me!

For over 6 years now,

I've lived in Bohemia at Dux Castle.

I'm Count Waldstein's librarian.

In fact, I'm a kind of court jester.

I'm forever
fighting with the servants,

who mock me and insult me.

That's why I've run away.

I wrote to the Duke of Weimar,
to the Duchesse of Saxony.

I want a position
with some dignity.

But they've kept me waiting!

Shall we sit over there?

Count Waldstein
sent two men to Paris,

to tell me he was sorry
and wanted me back.

He even honored

some letters of credit on which
I'd signed his name,

for some German Jews.
He did it because

he wants me to return.
He's bored.

He needs me to amuse his guests.

I'll show you how.
Noble ladies and knights!

I'll tell you the story of how
I pretended to fall from my horse,

opposite the house of the two
most virtuous sisters in Dresden.

Marika and Birgitt!

Rescued and laid out
on a bed in their house,

I asked them to fetch
from my saddle-bag,

a flask of miraculous ointment.
It was just

Burgundy wine!
I asked Birgitt and Marika

to rub it with nimble fingers

on my naked skin,
and massage me where...

Restif, I'm really tired.
I think I...

It's time I returned to port.

But I want to be alone. On foot.

Not escorted by gendarmes.

In Paris, I got them off my tail...

A fresh horse! Hurry!

Dr. Mangin! What is it?
Where are you off to so late?

To Paris! To carry

a message from
the town of Varennes

to the Assembly:

the King and Queen
have been arrested!

They are at present
in the house of Mr. Sauce,

the deputy-mayor of Varennes.
They were arrested

coming into town by some patriots,

who'd been alerted by Mr. Drouet,

postmaster in St. Menehould.

All the townspeople
are guarding the store.

What kind of store?

Mr. Sauce makes candles,
and sells spices and colonial wares.

Where is Varennes?

About 6 leagues from here,
toward Montmédy.

It was lucky the postmaster ran

into his men bringing back
the horses.

They showed him
where the coach veered off..

Or else Drouet would have headed
for Verdun, not Varennes.

Lucky for whom?

An all-night wake...

It's a whole new show,
the audience takes to the stage.

Your Machiavelli wrote:

"Chains are too heavy
and bonds too tight

"for those who have tasted freedom."

In my seminary
"The Prince" was banned.

I presume you're going to Varennes.

That's why I left Paris,
to catch up with them

and witness the event.

You'll write about a royal family,
prisoners of a candle-maker!

Even Shakespeare couldn't make
a tragedy of that!

I don't write tragedies.
I just jot down

what I see.

There's our coach.

I'll head for Verdun.

I'd rather not attend
a king's funeral.

The French people
don't want his death.

My dear Restif,
when a king is captured,

not by another king, but by
a postmaster, he's as good as dead.

They've found me.

But I'm not beaten yet!
In my youth,

I escaped from deeper dungeons.

When I was young...

But youth is a habit
we soon get over.

Restif, do me a favor
when you get back to Paris...

Go see Goldoni, he's old,
sick, and nearly blind.

The new regime cancelled
his artist's pension.

He's sold his library, book by book.
He's in a garret on rue Dauphine.

It's a promise.

Farewell.

Out of the way!

Make way for the coach!

Go to Varennes!

Head for Varennes.

This is a State service.
We're due in Metz.

And we're due in Varennes!

I must get to Metz.
I have business to do.

Our business, Mr. Paine.

- No coach for Metz?
- I'll try and arrange one.

I'll meet you in Alsatia
in a few days.

My foundries won't move!

Our baggage!

They're going to Varennes.

Our baggage!

- They're going to Varennes.
- Calm down!

I can see why you're worried.

Your wife's alone in Paris,

with all this mess.
Go back to her.

Catch the first stage,

you'll be home
by tomorrow morning.

No, if I came all this way...

- So what?
- What about you?

I've got the theater.

My concert. Don't worry about me.

You can't stay all alone.

Me? I am alone.

I've always been alone.
I'm used to it.

- Hadn't you understood?
- Virginie, you have me!

You have your art.

You...

It's easier to get rid of a king,
than of your wife.

As for my art...

I'm in the first act...

at the back of the stage
with the choir.

They only hired me
because of you and our relationship.

Don't sulk, Mr. Baldi.

You'll be my watchdog,
you'll take care of me, right?

Maybe M. de Wendel will agree

to keep me company
till we reach Metz?

- It will be a pleasure.
- Thank you.

Dearie,
go get the basket of doggies.

Doggies!

Madame...Mr. Emile wants me to...

Mr. Emile must be me.

Emile wants me to see him
to his village. It's nearby.

I said I had to ask you
for permission.

If she doesn't give it, what then?

I won't go.

Then you don't love him.

No, wait.

Madame always took care of me.
I was brought to her when I was 9.

Madame, maybe for him
I'm just a whim, a curiosity.

But now for the first time,

I want to laugh and cry.

Marie Madeleine,
what do you want to do?

Come or don't come,
but decide yourself.

Go on.

Madame, tonight such strange things
are happening...

I wonder what, in these
troubled times, a poor man can do

with his 100 workmen to care for.

Maybe a poor man shouldn't have
100 workers to care for.

Will you forgive me?

I was never so afraid in my life.
Afraid...

Not only of that madman
who attacked me

afraid of the speeches,
of the people, of you

afraid of the unfamiliar,
afraid for all I'm about to lose...

The Court is a cozy nest...

Like the King's red coat
at Cherbourg,

it meant security.
This has nothing to do with ideals.

If I felt secure
with some other ideal,

that would suit me.

My father was a brewer,
so you can imagine...

Will you forgive me?

It was only fear.

Won't you be afraid tomorrow?

Kings are notoriously ungrateful,

and fallen kings are even worse.

Raise my spirits tonight?

No one can do that for you.
All of us are afraid.

Faith and ideals
are to protect us from fear.

But we must find
the ideals that suit us.

Yes, Countess.

And when we realize our ideals
have reached a dead end,

we must dare to change them.

Change is what scares me.

When cats and buffoons
lose their rich masters,

they're pelted with stones.

In the American Declaration
of Independence

we changed the word "property"
to "pursuit of happiness".

Were you happy, Mr. Jacob?

No, I was always too afraid...
to give up what I had.

And... I hate happiness!

To Varennes!

I ran into my postmen
coming back with my horses.

They warned me that the coach
had left the road to Verdun.

To head for Varennes-Montmédy.

So we did the same,
took a shortcut through the woods,

that saved us a good 45 minutes.

Reaching Varennes, we were
delighted to see in the darkness

the two coaches stopped by
the church waiting for fresh horses.

Don't stay there.

I didn't know
the post-station had been moved.

Beyond the bridge over the river.

Half a mile further,
and they'd all have been safe.

Luckily, the nearby inn

still had some customers,
all good patriots.

We worked out a plan:

some came here
to wake up Sauce, the mayor,

while we built a barricade
at the bridge,

- so the coaches couldn't cross.
- Or any soldiers come in.

Meanwhile, my husband went
to cross-examine the travelers.

We'd been told they were Russians.

But they all spoke French.

A doctor! A lady-in-waiting
has stomach pains.

Stomach pains!
Next, they'll blame it

on my food!
Annette, go fetch the doctor.

Dr. Mangin's away. Get Dr. Porel.

Get the doctor, I tell you. Hurry!

Excuses, to delay them! To Paris!

The children are sleeping!

Those bells!

Two men with orders from the
Assembly and from Gen. La Fayette.

They're from Paris.

He arrested the King:
the mayor, Mr. Sauce.

No, deputy-mayor. The mayor's
away. I arrested no one.

The shock of it all,
the dark night...

The traveler's own safety

made it unwise for them to go on,
so I invited them

to rest in my home, that's all.

When we got back to the carriage,
I shouted to Sauce:

"If you let them leave,
you'll be guilty of treason!"

It's true, he shouted that.

That's Mr. Drouet,
postmaster at St. Menehould.

When Sauce asked to see
their passport, a man in livery

ordered the coachman to move on.

So I shouted:
"One step and we'll shoot!"

Yes, that's what he shouted.

I told all the lads in Varennes
to aim their guns.

Which weren't loaded!

I didn't know it,
neither did the travelers.

So they got out and went with Sauce.

As you can imagine,
I was in a state:

it was late, my house
was full of royalty.

I had to get rooms ready,
make food...

When His Majesty kissed
my husband,

I was moved to tears.
It was like a family

finding a long-lost father again.

The King said to me: "In Paris,
I lived surrounded by daggers."

"I came to revisit

"my loyal subjects
in the countryside,

"to experience again the peace
and freedom I'd lost."

Freedom!

Freedom to flee abroad.

Drouet! A monster from hell!

His Majesty said
he only planned to go...

To Montmédy, not far from here.

Where Bouillé, that blackguard,

waits to escort him
across the border!

No, he'll go back to Paris!
Right now. Prepare the coach!

To Paris!

They're resting!

Those bells!

You see, what a mess!

A good thing you people got here!

Come on up and see His Majesty.

Make way for the Assembly's envoys!
They've come from Paris!

Let's hope this nasty business
does our town some good.

The King promised he'd help,
but we're banking on the Assembly.

I sent Dr. Mangin straight
to Paris so they'd know

the King was my guest.
I also dispatched

to the far side of town,
some old wooden cannons.

Make way for the Assembly's envoys.

Please...

Countess de la Borde,
how come you're here?

Baron de Goguelat,
what happened to you?

A bullet hit my shoulder

as I made my way
through the local Guardsmen

to reach this wretched inn.

And your infallible plan
to escort the King?

Counter-orders,
delays, mutinous hussars,

the meddling
of the Queen's hairdresser...

Do you have
an even more infallible plan now?

We must delay the King's departure

till the Marquis de Bouillé
gets here from Montmédy.

I advised the King to shoot
his way out, but he refused.

Can you blame him?

Idiocy is the worst of treasons.

And no revolution will ever stop it.

Sire, two envoys from the Assembly

wish to be received
by Your Majesty.

Sire...

The King.

You won't get far.

The interests of the State...

In Paris, blood is running.

Our wives, our children, our mothers

may be slaughtered.

Am I not a mother, too, sir?

The Queen!

Sire!

We've brought a decree
from the Assembly.

Where is it?

Lt. Romeuf,
the General's aide, has it.

Monsieur de Romeuf!
You, of all people!

I hoped not to catch up with you.
I'm here to serve you.

France no longer has a King!

Don't let it soil my children's bed.

Her Majesty is right...
From her point of view.

Take me away!

When he embraced my husband,
I was so moved.

It was like a family
reunited with their father,

after fearing they'd lost him.

Make way!

Calm down, Madame.

I'll deal with the baggage.

The journal just came from Paris!

Let me read it! Citizens!

The "Friend of the People"
from Paris.

Listen to Marat:

"It's a thankless task to be right
6 months ahead of time."

Make way!

"Didn't I predict
that Louis would flee?

"How did a whole family
that we wrongly

"felt stood
for the well-being of France

"escape from us
in the heart of Paris?

"Beware of the vows of Princes.

'The Austrian woman
seduced La Fayette.

"Louis XVI in livery
escaped with the Dauphin,

his wife and his whole family.

"The Father of France
abandoned his people

"and escaped to send us
instead of his royal person

"a lengthy foreign and internal war.

"The people's conduct in
the most difficult moments,

"proves that it no longer
needs leaders.

"The time has come for the heads
of Bailly and La Fayette to roll,

"and of all the villains in
the General Staff and the Assembly.

"You need a military tribunal,

"or you are lost!" To Paris!

"Last night at 11

"Louis XVI went to bed
after receiving this virtuous order.

"His only contact with virtue!

"At 11.15 he left
the Luxembourg Palace with his wife.

"This plot, a scheme of the Bourbon
and Austrian royal houses,

"this cowardly plot
hatched 18 months ago..."

- Need anything else?
- No, thanks.

"The King thought
he could escape the National Guard,

"and the disgruntled
people of Paris,

"to find refuge
among his loyal generals.

"and kindhearted country folk.

"Instead he ran into the National
Guard and disgruntled country folk.

"who blocked his way to the border."

You're saying his arrest was
a victory for the disgruntled people.

I spoke of deeds, not victory.

Moments ago, I watched
the faces of those peasants.

They weren't moved, they weren't

children happy to have found
a "long-lost father".

Those faces betrayed
centuries of famine,

of poverty and humiliation...

And the fear that the end
of injustice is not yet at hand.

For that they'll have
to wait for a future occasion.

"Now is the time to make
the heads of ministers roll...

" the heads of the Chiefs-of-Staff,
of generals...

"...of counter-revolutionary
townships

"of traitors in the Assembly."

"Start by securing them,
if there's still time.

"Men of the National Guard,
in these critical times,

"you've been abandoned
by your officers

"who hide when danger lurks

"and only come out
to betray their country..."

Gentlemen, I forgot to thank you.

The journey was long
and ended badly,

but because of you,
its memory will be easier to bear.

Countess, would you satisfy
my curiosity?

What was in those 2
mysterious packages,

I helped you carry last night?

So it was you?

That's why I mistrusted you
from the start!

An understandable attitude
to have towards

men of letters, chroniclers,
scribblers...

We're a race of spies,
we don't participate or form bonds,

yet we describe, classify

and sometimes confuse everything.

That's why, am I right, Countess?

We're a curious lot.

The costume His Majesty wore
at the inauguration of Cherbourg.

Tomorrow is Corpus Christi.
He was to wear it

at Montmédy, to reviews his troops.

It must be exhausting to play King!

To a great task, great honors!

If he'd traveled in that outfit,

they might not have dared
arrest him. Who knows...

Your Majesty!

Long live the people!

- Long live France!
- Everyone to Paris!

That's what one learns
from travelling.

See the King mount the scaffold

with his confessor,

on January 21, 1793!

We've already included it in
our machine to view the new world.

Come see Louis XVI.

There's the head
of the King of France,

falling into the basket,
sliced by the guillotine.

Step right up! Bring your children!

See the great moments of history
with your own eyes.

Don't push!

Come see the history of the world
in moving pictures.

Reality becomes fantasy,
fantasy becomes reality.

In this magic box,
I'll show you a new world.

With its distances and perspectives.

One sou per person.

What you'll see is beautiful...

Folks, in this machine we have...

Nicolas Edmé Restif de la Bretonne
wrote in 1792

these words that are
in the 2nd part of Chapter 17

of the Revolutionary Nights:

""All those ideas exhausted me.

"For relief I plunged
into the centuries that followed.

"I saw the people of 1992
reading our history.

"I strained to hear them
and I heard.

"The harshness of their judgment
terrified me.

"Some claimed we lacked humanity,

"whereas those with extreme views,
as in my day, approved."

All Europe, apparently,

had a new government,
united and at peace.

But I saw in the pages of history
the terrible jolts it had endured.

I thought I heard the readers
saying to each other:

" 'We're so glad we didn't live
in those terrible times

" 'when human life was valueless.'

"Once the pain is over,

"if you didn't die of it,
it becomes a joy,

"and one needs such jolts

"to appreciate
the price of tranquility.

"As you need an illness
to appreciate good health.

"What fine reasoning",
exclaimed a visionary,

"You're no different than people
200 years ago.

"You're made
of the same organic molecules.

"Now you're at peace,

"because those molecules
are weary of war.

"But beware. After a little rest,

"you'll feel strong again,
and I'm afraid

"you'll go back to it."

Subtitles: A. Whitelaw

Subtitled by TVS - TITRA FILM