Le petit roi (1933) - full transcript
In an imaginary country ,Michel VIII is still a child but he is to reign when his time comes.Revolution threatens and the young monarch's entourage lies to him and even tries to get rid of him.He makes friend with an anarchist who sneaks into the park of his castle.Later ,this false friend tries to murder him in the cathedral;Returning good for evil ,he forgives him and cannot prevent his execution.Because of his poor health ,he is sent to the south of France ,but he does not know his mother -he thinks she's dead- is living there.
THE LITTLE KING
Inhabitants of Grochol,
we, Michel I, King of Pannonia
by the grace of God
and the sovereign will of the people,
seeing the troubles
that have enflamed our beautiful kingdom
and its capital these last few days,
declare a state of siege.
As a result, let us enjoin everyone
to observe the general lights out
that will be declared
every evening at 9pm.
Any person surprised
on the streets of Grochol
after said curfew is announced
is declared a suspect
if they lack formal authorisation
or urgent cause.
Your Eminence...
I want...
I want to confess.
It's very late.
I can't wait.
Well, come along.
Father,
some crimes...
can be absolved, can't they?
There is no forgiveness
without repentance.
Oh yes there is!
The action I'm about to commit
is above repentance.
I do not understand.
I'm going to become a murderer.
I'm going to kill the King.
And you must give me absolution!
No, no, I'm not crazy.
Tonight, we drew lots
and I was chosen.
I will... I must kill the King!
Calm down, my son.
- In 8 days' time.
During the feast of Saint Sventila,
I will be there,
in the cathedral.
And I will strike!
I have sworn it before God.
Sacrilege.
Only God himself
can deliver justice.
You want me to be detained?
Nothing in the world can free
the priest from his vow of secrecy.
Father, I have to kill.
I have to!
We're at the end of our tether.
We're starving to death.
We've been
downtrodden for centuries.
Our country's history
is one massacre after another.
Mad kings...
Murderous kings.
Bloodthirsty brutes.
A long line of drunks,
that's what's ruled over us.
Tell me I'm doing the right thing,
that I must commit murder.
Give me forgiveness in advance.
I will pray to God
that he may
enlighten and guide you.
Inhabitants of Grochol...
Take yourselves to bed.
The King orders it.
Take yourselves to bed.
The King is not some dog turd!
Take yourselves to bed!
One is born a king...
like one is born in the gutter.
Would you like to be a king?
Do you want to be king or not?
Not at the cost of a crime.
Haven't you had enough
of genuflecting?
You're Regent.
The King's uncle.
And you genuflect like a flunky.
Remove the king...
and you'll be king.
There's no point
poisoning those chocolates.
You know the doctor checks
everything they serve him.
Don't worry...
This time...
As God is my witness,
I don't want it this way.
Idiot.
Idiots!
You have the nerve to be sleeping?
You, you're left behind.
Can't you hear the toy soldiers
drawing closer?
1, 2, 1, 2...
Ah, you chase the sun, but
it'll be the same tomorrow as today!
1, 2, 1, 2...
You wretches, the regiment is here!
You that sleep, rise up!
They'll walk all over you.
Ah, the drums!
You hear the drums?
Wake up,
or they'll walk right over you!
Forward!
They're concerned for him.
He is well-guarded.
Well ensconced
behind the fortress walls.
Down with the walls!
Behind the drawbridges...
We'll pull down the drawbridges!
Behind the portculluses...
Tear down the portculluses!
Remove all obstacles!
Behind the reinforced doors...
Break down the reinforced doors!
Here's the palace!
Death to the King!
Help!
What's the matter?
Your Majesty called?
- Your Majesty is not asleep?
Your Majesty was afraid?
Afraid?
The King is not afraid.
No Elias...
I was dreaming.
Your Majesty must excuse me.
My dearest was having a nightmare?
Yes, Barbara.
My dearest wouldn't like me
to stay with him a while?
No, Barbara.
He knows he has nothing to fear?...
- Yes, Barbara.
That he is safe in his palace.
- Yes.
Moreover, everybody loves him.
His good uncle, Regent Paul I...
- Yes, Barbara.
All the people at court.
Plus all of his people,
loyal and devoted.
Yes, Barbara.
Sire, time to rise.
I dare to hope
that Your Majesty is well rested.
Thank you, Chamberlain.
His Majesty's governess,
my respects.
Yes, yes, good morning.
Come on! Come on!
Bad night, was it, my dear?
- Yes.
Good morning, doctor.
That'll do, that'll do.
You can stop that, Sire.
I wish I could...
- It's nothing.
Well, pulse normal,
a swollen tongue, a touch of fever...
20 grams of castor oil
tomorrow morning.
Again?!
You know, Barbara,
I read yesterday in one of the papers
that I am God's chosen one.
Is this the case?
Oh yes.
Well, I don't know why
He didn't choose someone bigger.
The national anthem, Sire.
In honour of Your Majesty.
Hup!
At ease.
Gentlemen...
The usual, today.
Oatmeal porridge,
sliced uncooked meat,
plain macaroni,
mashed prunes.
Murderer!
Oh no, no, no...
today's a truce.
His Majesty will dine
like every month
at His Excellency Regent Paul's,
his kindly uncle.
That's right.
I would therefore like to remind
Your Majesty
that you must not touch the food
served to you at your uncle's.
Unless with a wink of the eye...
- ... I've approved its consumption.
This is to spare Your Majesty...
the...
Poisonings.
Indigestion!
Yes, that's what I meant...
indigestion.
Elias...
8am, service in the chapel.
8.30, History, usual attire.
10am, Council of Ministers.
11am, Geography lesson.
11.30, audience in captain's attire.
Midday, depart for the house
of His Excellency the Regent
dressed as an officer of the guard.
Fall out!
- Eat up.
Unusually today,
the President of the Council
wishes that the History lesson
be given to Your Majesty
in the Mausoleum Hall
which will make live again,
better than the pages of a book,
the recollections of
the glorious past of our nation.
And rat-a-tat, end of all that.
Forgive me, Sire.
Boleslas the Victorious.
He made himself immortal
by sacking Rijchen.
His tomb.
Those of his two beloved wives.
So to sum up,
all these people are feted
because they brought about
the deaths of many people.
But Sire, military glory...
Yes, luckily none of it's true.
What's not true?
Because these are stories...
But Sire, it's History!
King Bogus.
Your father, Sire.
He was a great king.
Gifted with Herculean strength
he could still fell an ox
with his fist
the day before he died...
Murdered.
Yes, Sire.
He was a bad man...
very unrelenting, wasn't he?
But...
This is his tomb?
- Yes, Sire.
But where is the tomb of the queen?
Which queen, Sire?
My mummy.
I don't know...
I think...
Erm, I think that...
You knew her, sir?
Yes, Sire.
What was she like?
But I...
don't remember very well, Sire.
I remember.
I was very small.
She spoke to me
in a voice
that was like sparkling music.
I remember
she used to run her hand
through my hair.
It felt soft.
I'll ask the President of the Council
for clarification.
No, don't bother.
Continue, if you would.
His Excellency Your Majesty's uncle
is already 10 minutes' late.
All the better, eh?
Less time wasted
with the Council of Ministers' tedium.
Barbara, there's something
I wanted to ask you.
What's that, my dear?
But I think
that you won't tell me the truth.
Good Lord,
ask me anything you like...
except for chocolate.
Where's my mummy?
But...
she's dead, my dear.
She was buried.
She's in Heaven with the angels.
Barbara, I'm the king,
you're lying to me!
What?!
You're lying, I've seen.
- Saw what?
Last year I'd already noticed
that my mummy's tomb
is not in the mausoleum hall
like those of the other queens.
Today I had a good look,
it's not there. Where is it?
In the cemetery probably.
Later I'll tell Dr. Jacklow
you gave me some chocolate
and you'll be out on your ear!
- Oh no...
Your Majesty wouldn't do that?
- I'll do it like this:
I swear on the holy books that
Barbara made me eat chocolate.
Michel,
my little Michel, you mustn't.
You must believe
what I have to say.
You're ugly when you cry.
Get from here!
The Regent
is a quarter of an hour late.
Sire, it's time for you
to go to the council.
Come on, my little Michel,
come quickly.
The king was ready at 10 o'clock,
it's 10.15.
All the more reason to hurry along.
It's 10.15, the king doesn't wait.
Sire...
we hope that you will kindly excuse
our unintentional delay
caused, by the way,
by the duties you impose on us...
Your Majesty's confidence.
Come on, gentlemen.
He is indeed the worthy son
of his brute of a father.
He has in his blood
all the vices of his ancestors.
Yes...
The notorious temper of the Kaïnofs.
They're having fun,
aren't they, colonel?
Yes, Sire.
You couldn't have told
the chauffeur to step on it,
I haven't time for viewing?
Impossible, Sire!
- Why?
It wouldn't be prudent.
But why?
- Because, Sire!
Come on, pass, don't stop.
Come on, move along.
I saw Vitali.
Tomorrow he'll bring you
the timing mechanism for the bomb.
I'd rather have a grenade,
they're more reliable.
No mistakes with one of those.
Vitali could get some for you.
- Ask him.
Why wait for Saint Sventila?
I know a way
to get into the palace grounds.
The King
walks alone there sometimes.
Get back!
Poor lad...
Tell me,
Your Majesty
has no worries about Sunday?
Oh no!
Excuse me.
What a nice boy.
Oh, not all the time.
If you were here
when he has one of his tantrums...
Oh yes, the famous Kaïnof temper.
- Exactly.
I'm sorry
to deprive Your Majesty...
However Your Majesty well knows
that chocolate
is strictly forbidden to him.
What do you make of this?
Oh, it was bound to happen.
I want to tell Michel
that I only accepted exile
to escape the brutalities of his father
and that he might one day
make a great king.
I agree not to seek him out
except to inform him that I'm alive
and I love him.
To the palace!
But Sire, Colonel Kremof...
To the palace immediately,
I command it!
Barbara!
You lied to me!
I am the king!
You're always lying!
Where's mummy?
But, Michel...
You told me she's dead.
That isn't true, she's alive.
Help!
Get out!
I am the king!
This is my home!
Get out!
What have I done?
You can go.
What have I done, Barbara?
Yes, I am the king...
but I'm still your dearest, eh?
Tell me, you're not mad at me?
Forgive me.
I know my mummy's not dead.
I know not to tell.
But...
- I understand.
But then...
if she left...
she couldn't have loved me.
Oh yes, my dear,
she loved you very much.
Really? Really?
But then why?
Because of the king, eh?
It was my father?
He beat her?
Eh?
Yes.
Finally one day,
in front of the whole court.
So she left.
And then they exiled her.
Yes, I see.
You'll see, Barbara,
we'll never
mention these things again.
I can't take it anymore, colonel.
Will these manoeuvres never end?
Your Majesty
must rejoin the First Company.
Who's singing like that?
But I don't hear anything.
I know that song
and that voice.
I remember them.
It was long ago.
Sire, we're returning to the palace.
The car is waiting for us.
Sound the fall in.
What's going on?
- We're returning.
It must mean revolution in Grochol.
- Holy cow!
Fall in.
My God,
what's going to happen?
Where did I hear that song?
Yes...
That was a song
your mummy often sang.
Do you remember it?
Barbara, sing it to me.
I'm tired.
I want to sleep.
Stay here, dear.
You'll be safe.
I'll go and see what's going on.
All this is awful.
It's in this morning's newspapers.
Last night, very late,
the ministry was overthrown.
And do you know who they've named President of the Council?
- No.
That Mr. Storek.
That one, who it seems,
is everywhere saying
he wants the regime's neck.
I don't understand very well
what he means
but he doesn't strike me
as trustworthy.
He probably means the regime
that Doctor Jacklow orders for me.
Oatmeal porridge, sliced uncooked meat,
plain macaroni, mashed prunes.
I don't think so.
I ask you...
A foul sort like him.
He doesn't even wear a shirt.
- That's revolting.
I mean, it seems like he wants
to shake things up at the palace,
that he wants to dismiss everyone.
Including me perhaps.
He can't possibly.
- Oh no.
They'll not part me from my dearest.
You won't let him, will you?
- No, I'll tell him.
He might not listen to you.
- You think so?
But... I am the king.
His Excellency President Storek
is waiting in the council chamber
at Your Majesty's pleasure.
Well,
he's here already, the bad man.
We're all doomed.
I imagine my visit
is not very pleasant
for Your Majesty.
However I am certain
that you will quickly realise
that the common good
is my only concern.
And that my intention
is not to separate
the cause of the public
from the royal cause.
I only wish in the meantime
to win Your Majesty's esteem
and your trust.
From time to time,
if you want,
I can have a chat with you. Eh?
I'm sure there are lots of things
you know nothing about.
Have you ever visited a coal mine?
No, sir.
Yes...
obviously.
Obviously.
You see, we must have no repeat
of yesterday's events.
We can't have men shooting
at their brothers.
There mustn't be women and children
being killed.
War, Sire...
be it civil or between nations,
is one of the greatest evils
afflicting our poor humanity.
Your Majesty
will understand one day.
Oh, I understand.
Sir...
May I retain Barbara?
Barbara?
She's my nurse.
She raised me.
She's my only friend.
But of course, Sire.
And now tell me, just between us,
did you enjoy
attending the Council of Ministers?
The duties of my office...
- Yes, yes, of course.
And from now on,
Your Majesty will replace
the time spent in the company
of those old gentlemen
with a nice walk in the grounds.
- Thank you, sir!
If it's possible...
- Of course.
And we'll start this morning.
All right... I shall return.
So... goodbye, Sire.
No President of the Council!
And no Doctor Jacklow!
What are you doing here?
Don't you know that it's forbidden
to enter the grounds?
Ah, but I know you!
I've seen you before.
They'll soon be making the rounds
and if they find you,
they'll put you in jail.
I'll try to get you out.
You're in luck
that I'm the king.
Really, I am the king.
Haven't you seen my profile
on the coins?
I'm just escorting my comrade.
Goodbye.
Oh, it's Mr. Storek's overcoat!
My dear, your tailor
awaits His Majesty
for him to try on
his new ceremonial robes.
The day after tomorrow
is Saint Sventila.
At last!
It's been eight days
that my dearest has been unconscious.
So I'm better now?
- Soon.
The President of the Council
has a request to make
to Your Majesty.
May Your Majesty excuse
that I'm required to disturb him,
but we are forced to make
an appeal to him.
Well, well...
Did Your Majesty get a glimpse,
the other day at the cathedral,
of the man who threw the bomb?
Yes, I saw him.
Well, Sire,
we believe we've arrested that man.
Two gendarmes
have brought him here
and the examining magistrate
would like to show him to you.
But His Majesty can't get up!
Yes, yes, I can.
Mr. Storek is no longer
President of the Council?
No.
While Your Majesty was recovering,
he was deposed
and Mr. Marski has replaced him.
Sire, please raise your hand
and swear to tell the truth.
I swear.
Sire, simply look at this man
and consider
if you recognise him to be
the man who threw the grenade
in the direction of Your Majesty.
Your Majesty should take his time.
Let him weigh the gravity
of his testimony.
I do not recognise him.
Sire... but that's impossible!
We found on the accused some...
May Your Majesty excuse me,
but I wonder
if he has understood correctly?
I swear
this man is not the same one!
Now leave me in peace,
I've nothing more to say.
But we must make an example!
Stifle the revolution at its roots!
- Of course...
Or else we'll have no peace.
It's for what time?
5am.
Come on, keep your nerve.
Section...
Halt.
Ready...
I don't want this!
I don't want him killed!
I don't want it!
I don't want him killed!
Aim...
Fire!
Have you read this?
- No, what's that?
The health of His Majesty
continues to give
much cause for concern
and in light of the inadequacy
of the Royal Physician, Doctor Jacklow
and his Pannonian colleagues,
we have had to summon from Paris
the celebrated Professor Bonnard
of the Academy of Medicine.
That's nice for myself
and my colleagues, isn't it?
It's an opposition newspaper.
Tell me, is he in there?
Who? This Bonnard?
Yes, he's in there...
with my Pannonian colleagues.
Okay, let's see...
Heredity...
The father?
- King Bogus, sir.
An iron constitution, a giant.
Is he dead?
- Yes.
Of what?
- Assassinated.
And the mother?
Dead too.
Assassinated as well?
No syphilitics in the family?
Oh no, sir!
Well, well...
And the child?
No serious illnesses?
Only some troubles...
intermittent ones.
Doctor Jacklow
is His Majesty's regular physician.
His Majesty?
And now let's have a proper look.
Come over here, young man.
Undress.
Do you have a good appetite?
- Sometimes.
What's he been eating?
Oatmeal porridge,
sliced uncooked meat,
plain macaroni,
mashed prunes.
Yes, yes...
Are his bowel movements regular?
My God, sir, His Majesty...
What? He has constipation?
- A little, sir.
Well, my fellow!
Yes... A towel.
You know, before I was unwell
I was much bigger.
Much?
Yes... at least somewhat.
- Turn around.
Cough.
Cough again.
Turn around.
Deep breaths.
Again.
What would you say
to a short trip?
I think I'd catch a cold.
It's foggy everywhere.
Plus Vodlow is miserable.
And Temesnik is freezing.
This is why we need to talk
about a longer trip.
Of a stay in a country
where there's sunshine, flowers.
By the Mediterranean Sea.
You know of it?
I remember the Mediterranean Sea.
I saw a picture of it once.
There was a bright blue sea,
with palm trees on the shore
and white sails in the distance.
And children playing in the sand.
Really?
And one can play with them?
You'd like that?
- Oh yes!
But my uncle Paul and the Council
of Ministers would never allow it.
Don't bother about that.
Get dressed and go have some fun.
That child must leave
this country at once.
He's a candidate for tuberculosis,
cerebral congestion, anemia.
So for the moment, no drugs.
Good nutrition, fresh air
and above all, sunshine.
Sunshine?
- Yes.
It's a medicine you don't have.
But we have this in my land.
This is good advice, is it not?
Yes, of course, kind sir.
Your esteemed diagnostic...
Perhaps a touch pessimistic...
You think so?
It seems to me
that with certain tonics...
Really?!
These gentlemen cannot ignore that...
- ... reasons of state...
Reasons of state?!
What's that all about?
I'm talking to you
about the life of a child.
But we don't doubt that...
Of a child in the process
of being murdered!
If I may, professor...
You spoke of my pessimism
but I find in you
a suspicious optimism!
You exaggerate.
- Perhaps...
but I will not be party
to this pitiful farce.
The vigilant care we have always
given to His Majesty...
All right, sir! All right!
This child leaves this country
without delay.
Yes, rest assured, dear sir,
that we take most serious account
of your opinion...
But it is not an opinion,
gentlemen, it is an order!
And I am used to my orders
being carried out.
This child must be transported
immediately to France.
To the sunshine.
Otherwise... I will appeal
to opinion in Europe.
Goodbye, lad.
You think they'll let me go?
- Of course.
You have my word.
- Thank you, sir.
You may come along, gentlemen.
Do you think he's right?
The bright blue sea...
The sunshine...
The sails...
The sand...
Do you think this is a fantasy?
Oh no, I don't think so.
What name shall I put, madam?
Countess Slasko.
Tell me...
Is it really here that the little king
of Pannonia is staying?
Incognito, madam.
Yes,
but it's in all the newspapers.
That's what they mean by
"incognito".
Thanks.
Good morning, Sire.
Your Majesty must forgive me
that he hasn't seen me much recently.
However I've been detained by...
by some important matters.
Where was that?
- Erm...
In Monte Carlo.
But since we've decided to let
étiquette slide...
We're on a break, Chamberlain.
- Thank you, Sire.
Are you watching my imp
of a granddaughter?
Oh pardon me, madam.
No need to apologise.
Why don't you play with her?
- I can't.
Why?
- It's not allowed.
Would you like me
to ask your daddy?
I don't have a daddy.
Well then, your mummy?
I don't have a mummy.
You're a nice young man.
But you know,
you mustn't go that way...
it's the little king's garden.
It doesn't matter because,
you see, I am the little king.
Forgive me.
Grandmother, the flowers.
It's so hot.
[inaudible]
Good morning, young man.
Lillie...
Leave them.
Listen, Sire...
Go and play, the both of you.
Leave protocol to me.
I'll hide. You find me!
Okay.
1...
2...
3.
Yoo-hoo!
Sorry, madam.
Sire...
Would Your Majesty not allow me
a few words with him?
I don't have time, madam.
Plus I've been instructed
not to talk to strangers.
The thing is that I knew...
I met your mother
before she died.
And she charged me,
in case one day
circumstances brought us together
with a commission
for Your Majesty.
Mummy?
Tell my little Michel
how unhappy
his mummy was without him.
And give him a big kiss for me.
Michel?
Run along and don't tell.
Never. To anyone.
Yes.
President,
I am happy to pay my respects
and to greet you in person,
the beautiful nation
you represent so worthily
and of which
I'm honoured to be the host.
Well, are you coming?
Nothing doing today.
Protocol.
What's this?
What's with that weird costume?
Oh, come down!
- Okay.
Don't go far, dear.
The Chamberlain is picking you up
in half an hour.
Yes, I'll stay in the garden.
The President of the Republic
is in Nice tomorrow
to inaugurate the statue
of an old gentleman.
It appears therefore to be
of utmost importance for Pannonia
that I go and greet him at the station
with the Chamberlain.
Oh no!
I thought we were going to play
this morning with the street kids
in the Old Port like we said.
Oh for Pete's sake!
Maybe we've got time to go there
and set up a meeting for tomorrow?
You think we've time?
- Oh yes.
It's not far,
nobody will notice.
You're the general?!
Give me the costume!
Hey over there, listen!
Come here!
Don't laugh!
Try to bomb
those morons opposite!
Do you understand,
you stupid dummy?
He called me "stupid dummy"!
Oh, the fun I'm having!
Michel?
Michel!
Come on, hurry, hurry!
Good heavens!
And the presidential train
is about to enter the station!
Yes, it's coming...
- Phew, what a scorcher!
It must've been slightly held up.
Gentlemen...
Thank you.
- Gentlemen, here's the train.
Ah, here it is!
It's on time.
Get out of the way, darn it!
Can't you see we're rolling!
Michel!
Ammunition, ammunition!
Truce! It's the armistice!
11am!
The President of the French Republic...
I forgot about him.
Pannonia is in the soup!
Hang on...
Good God,
what happened to Your Majesty?
Oh nothing, it was war.
- War?
A mock war.
Everyone's been looking for you.
The Chamberlain left in despair.
Phooey!
That's too bad.
You can't go back
to the hotel like this.
What will they all think?
Do you know that Your Majesty
looks much better
than when you arrived
6 months ago.
You think so?
Doesn't the fact please you?
- Oh no!
But why's that?
Because if I look healthy,
Doctor Bonnard will come,
he'll say I'm cured
and I'll go back to Grochol.
You don't like Grochol?
It's a prison.
Yes.
Madam...
I'd like to ask you something.
It was some time ago...
you said you know my mummy
... who's dead.
Is my mummy really dead?
Ah, there you are!
At last!
But... Jesus and Mary,
what's happened to you?
Your Majesty!
You know her?
It's her?
It's my mummy?
Mummy...
- Yes.
My son.
Mummy.
- Little Michel, I've found you.
Be careful nobody sees you.
Well, here we have it!
Don't worry, young man.
You are cured.
Completely cured.
You don't think that...
a short month and a half...
or two... two more...
You don't think?
No, there's no need.
Because personally,
I've some pretty important business...
Business?
- In... in Monte Carlo.
Mmm... no.
You can return tomorrow.
Oh right...
It only remains for me
to pay Your Majesty my respects.
So I have to go back?
Yes... I know how you feel, lad.
I will however
advise the government of Pannonia
that it will be essential
that His Majesty
returns here to spend
another two or three winters.
That wouldn't be
too objectionable?
Thank you, doctor.
I'm cured.
- Cured?
I depart tomorrow.
And you wont be coming back?
- Yes...
Perhaps...
In a year.
Listen,
I'll write to the government.
I'll tell them
that every year you must spend
some time with me.
A nice house full of flowers,
full of birds, you'll see.
Yes mummy.
In a year.
My baby...
It seems they found 11 bombs
in a cellar...
in Grochol.
Mummy, I don't want to go.
I don't want to leave you.
Come on,
you must be brave.
It took a great deal for me
to endure all these long years.
But it was all for you.
So you could become a great king.
I don't want to be king.
I want to be a child like the others.
- No, Michel.
You must be king.
Soon,
you'll understand all the good
you can do around you.
You'll be very powerful.
And from afar I will advise you.
Michel!
[inaudible]
Come, you have to go, my boy.
Tomorrow, before leaving,
come to my room,
I'll be waiting for you.
Go.
Don't forget now.
So, has my dearest
remembered everything?
I'll see you downstairs
in 5 minutes.
Okay, hurry along.
And say goodbye to her for me.
- Yes.
Your Majesty is ready.
Hurry, we're late.
Come along, Sire, we must hurry.
Madam, my respects.
Goodbye, young lady...
Oh, excuse me.
Come along, Sire.
- Goodbye, Michel.
Goodbye, Majesty.
Come, come... chop chop!
I must advise Your Majesty
that because of
some serious developments
that have taken place in Grochol,
Your Majesty will have to leave
the train at the Pannonian frontier
and continue the journey in a car
that will be waiting for him.
Sire...
Terrible news.
Entry to Pannonia has been forbidden
to Your Majesty.
A republic has been proclaimed,
Mr. Storek is appointed president.
So, I'm not king anymore?
No, Sire.
Then no more Grochol!
No more Doctor Jacklow!
Let's get going!
Yes!
Chauffeur, to Monte Carlo.
Inhabitants of Grochol,
we, Michel I, King of Pannonia
by the grace of God
and the sovereign will of the people,
seeing the troubles
that have enflamed our beautiful kingdom
and its capital these last few days,
declare a state of siege.
As a result, let us enjoin everyone
to observe the general lights out
that will be declared
every evening at 9pm.
Any person surprised
on the streets of Grochol
after said curfew is announced
is declared a suspect
if they lack formal authorisation
or urgent cause.
Your Eminence...
I want...
I want to confess.
It's very late.
I can't wait.
Well, come along.
Father,
some crimes...
can be absolved, can't they?
There is no forgiveness
without repentance.
Oh yes there is!
The action I'm about to commit
is above repentance.
I do not understand.
I'm going to become a murderer.
I'm going to kill the King.
And you must give me absolution!
No, no, I'm not crazy.
Tonight, we drew lots
and I was chosen.
I will... I must kill the King!
Calm down, my son.
- In 8 days' time.
During the feast of Saint Sventila,
I will be there,
in the cathedral.
And I will strike!
I have sworn it before God.
Sacrilege.
Only God himself
can deliver justice.
You want me to be detained?
Nothing in the world can free
the priest from his vow of secrecy.
Father, I have to kill.
I have to!
We're at the end of our tether.
We're starving to death.
We've been
downtrodden for centuries.
Our country's history
is one massacre after another.
Mad kings...
Murderous kings.
Bloodthirsty brutes.
A long line of drunks,
that's what's ruled over us.
Tell me I'm doing the right thing,
that I must commit murder.
Give me forgiveness in advance.
I will pray to God
that he may
enlighten and guide you.
Inhabitants of Grochol...
Take yourselves to bed.
The King orders it.
Take yourselves to bed.
The King is not some dog turd!
Take yourselves to bed!
One is born a king...
like one is born in the gutter.
Would you like to be a king?
Do you want to be king or not?
Not at the cost of a crime.
Haven't you had enough
of genuflecting?
You're Regent.
The King's uncle.
And you genuflect like a flunky.
Remove the king...
and you'll be king.
There's no point
poisoning those chocolates.
You know the doctor checks
everything they serve him.
Don't worry...
This time...
As God is my witness,
I don't want it this way.
Idiot.
Idiots!
You have the nerve to be sleeping?
You, you're left behind.
Can't you hear the toy soldiers
drawing closer?
1, 2, 1, 2...
Ah, you chase the sun, but
it'll be the same tomorrow as today!
1, 2, 1, 2...
You wretches, the regiment is here!
You that sleep, rise up!
They'll walk all over you.
Ah, the drums!
You hear the drums?
Wake up,
or they'll walk right over you!
Forward!
They're concerned for him.
He is well-guarded.
Well ensconced
behind the fortress walls.
Down with the walls!
Behind the drawbridges...
We'll pull down the drawbridges!
Behind the portculluses...
Tear down the portculluses!
Remove all obstacles!
Behind the reinforced doors...
Break down the reinforced doors!
Here's the palace!
Death to the King!
Help!
What's the matter?
Your Majesty called?
- Your Majesty is not asleep?
Your Majesty was afraid?
Afraid?
The King is not afraid.
No Elias...
I was dreaming.
Your Majesty must excuse me.
My dearest was having a nightmare?
Yes, Barbara.
My dearest wouldn't like me
to stay with him a while?
No, Barbara.
He knows he has nothing to fear?...
- Yes, Barbara.
That he is safe in his palace.
- Yes.
Moreover, everybody loves him.
His good uncle, Regent Paul I...
- Yes, Barbara.
All the people at court.
Plus all of his people,
loyal and devoted.
Yes, Barbara.
Sire, time to rise.
I dare to hope
that Your Majesty is well rested.
Thank you, Chamberlain.
His Majesty's governess,
my respects.
Yes, yes, good morning.
Come on! Come on!
Bad night, was it, my dear?
- Yes.
Good morning, doctor.
That'll do, that'll do.
You can stop that, Sire.
I wish I could...
- It's nothing.
Well, pulse normal,
a swollen tongue, a touch of fever...
20 grams of castor oil
tomorrow morning.
Again?!
You know, Barbara,
I read yesterday in one of the papers
that I am God's chosen one.
Is this the case?
Oh yes.
Well, I don't know why
He didn't choose someone bigger.
The national anthem, Sire.
In honour of Your Majesty.
Hup!
At ease.
Gentlemen...
The usual, today.
Oatmeal porridge,
sliced uncooked meat,
plain macaroni,
mashed prunes.
Murderer!
Oh no, no, no...
today's a truce.
His Majesty will dine
like every month
at His Excellency Regent Paul's,
his kindly uncle.
That's right.
I would therefore like to remind
Your Majesty
that you must not touch the food
served to you at your uncle's.
Unless with a wink of the eye...
- ... I've approved its consumption.
This is to spare Your Majesty...
the...
Poisonings.
Indigestion!
Yes, that's what I meant...
indigestion.
Elias...
8am, service in the chapel.
8.30, History, usual attire.
10am, Council of Ministers.
11am, Geography lesson.
11.30, audience in captain's attire.
Midday, depart for the house
of His Excellency the Regent
dressed as an officer of the guard.
Fall out!
- Eat up.
Unusually today,
the President of the Council
wishes that the History lesson
be given to Your Majesty
in the Mausoleum Hall
which will make live again,
better than the pages of a book,
the recollections of
the glorious past of our nation.
And rat-a-tat, end of all that.
Forgive me, Sire.
Boleslas the Victorious.
He made himself immortal
by sacking Rijchen.
His tomb.
Those of his two beloved wives.
So to sum up,
all these people are feted
because they brought about
the deaths of many people.
But Sire, military glory...
Yes, luckily none of it's true.
What's not true?
Because these are stories...
But Sire, it's History!
King Bogus.
Your father, Sire.
He was a great king.
Gifted with Herculean strength
he could still fell an ox
with his fist
the day before he died...
Murdered.
Yes, Sire.
He was a bad man...
very unrelenting, wasn't he?
But...
This is his tomb?
- Yes, Sire.
But where is the tomb of the queen?
Which queen, Sire?
My mummy.
I don't know...
I think...
Erm, I think that...
You knew her, sir?
Yes, Sire.
What was she like?
But I...
don't remember very well, Sire.
I remember.
I was very small.
She spoke to me
in a voice
that was like sparkling music.
I remember
she used to run her hand
through my hair.
It felt soft.
I'll ask the President of the Council
for clarification.
No, don't bother.
Continue, if you would.
His Excellency Your Majesty's uncle
is already 10 minutes' late.
All the better, eh?
Less time wasted
with the Council of Ministers' tedium.
Barbara, there's something
I wanted to ask you.
What's that, my dear?
But I think
that you won't tell me the truth.
Good Lord,
ask me anything you like...
except for chocolate.
Where's my mummy?
But...
she's dead, my dear.
She was buried.
She's in Heaven with the angels.
Barbara, I'm the king,
you're lying to me!
What?!
You're lying, I've seen.
- Saw what?
Last year I'd already noticed
that my mummy's tomb
is not in the mausoleum hall
like those of the other queens.
Today I had a good look,
it's not there. Where is it?
In the cemetery probably.
Later I'll tell Dr. Jacklow
you gave me some chocolate
and you'll be out on your ear!
- Oh no...
Your Majesty wouldn't do that?
- I'll do it like this:
I swear on the holy books that
Barbara made me eat chocolate.
Michel,
my little Michel, you mustn't.
You must believe
what I have to say.
You're ugly when you cry.
Get from here!
The Regent
is a quarter of an hour late.
Sire, it's time for you
to go to the council.
Come on, my little Michel,
come quickly.
The king was ready at 10 o'clock,
it's 10.15.
All the more reason to hurry along.
It's 10.15, the king doesn't wait.
Sire...
we hope that you will kindly excuse
our unintentional delay
caused, by the way,
by the duties you impose on us...
Your Majesty's confidence.
Come on, gentlemen.
He is indeed the worthy son
of his brute of a father.
He has in his blood
all the vices of his ancestors.
Yes...
The notorious temper of the Kaïnofs.
They're having fun,
aren't they, colonel?
Yes, Sire.
You couldn't have told
the chauffeur to step on it,
I haven't time for viewing?
Impossible, Sire!
- Why?
It wouldn't be prudent.
But why?
- Because, Sire!
Come on, pass, don't stop.
Come on, move along.
I saw Vitali.
Tomorrow he'll bring you
the timing mechanism for the bomb.
I'd rather have a grenade,
they're more reliable.
No mistakes with one of those.
Vitali could get some for you.
- Ask him.
Why wait for Saint Sventila?
I know a way
to get into the palace grounds.
The King
walks alone there sometimes.
Get back!
Poor lad...
Tell me,
Your Majesty
has no worries about Sunday?
Oh no!
Excuse me.
What a nice boy.
Oh, not all the time.
If you were here
when he has one of his tantrums...
Oh yes, the famous Kaïnof temper.
- Exactly.
I'm sorry
to deprive Your Majesty...
However Your Majesty well knows
that chocolate
is strictly forbidden to him.
What do you make of this?
Oh, it was bound to happen.
I want to tell Michel
that I only accepted exile
to escape the brutalities of his father
and that he might one day
make a great king.
I agree not to seek him out
except to inform him that I'm alive
and I love him.
To the palace!
But Sire, Colonel Kremof...
To the palace immediately,
I command it!
Barbara!
You lied to me!
I am the king!
You're always lying!
Where's mummy?
But, Michel...
You told me she's dead.
That isn't true, she's alive.
Help!
Get out!
I am the king!
This is my home!
Get out!
What have I done?
You can go.
What have I done, Barbara?
Yes, I am the king...
but I'm still your dearest, eh?
Tell me, you're not mad at me?
Forgive me.
I know my mummy's not dead.
I know not to tell.
But...
- I understand.
But then...
if she left...
she couldn't have loved me.
Oh yes, my dear,
she loved you very much.
Really? Really?
But then why?
Because of the king, eh?
It was my father?
He beat her?
Eh?
Yes.
Finally one day,
in front of the whole court.
So she left.
And then they exiled her.
Yes, I see.
You'll see, Barbara,
we'll never
mention these things again.
I can't take it anymore, colonel.
Will these manoeuvres never end?
Your Majesty
must rejoin the First Company.
Who's singing like that?
But I don't hear anything.
I know that song
and that voice.
I remember them.
It was long ago.
Sire, we're returning to the palace.
The car is waiting for us.
Sound the fall in.
What's going on?
- We're returning.
It must mean revolution in Grochol.
- Holy cow!
Fall in.
My God,
what's going to happen?
Where did I hear that song?
Yes...
That was a song
your mummy often sang.
Do you remember it?
Barbara, sing it to me.
I'm tired.
I want to sleep.
Stay here, dear.
You'll be safe.
I'll go and see what's going on.
All this is awful.
It's in this morning's newspapers.
Last night, very late,
the ministry was overthrown.
And do you know who they've named President of the Council?
- No.
That Mr. Storek.
That one, who it seems,
is everywhere saying
he wants the regime's neck.
I don't understand very well
what he means
but he doesn't strike me
as trustworthy.
He probably means the regime
that Doctor Jacklow orders for me.
Oatmeal porridge, sliced uncooked meat,
plain macaroni, mashed prunes.
I don't think so.
I ask you...
A foul sort like him.
He doesn't even wear a shirt.
- That's revolting.
I mean, it seems like he wants
to shake things up at the palace,
that he wants to dismiss everyone.
Including me perhaps.
He can't possibly.
- Oh no.
They'll not part me from my dearest.
You won't let him, will you?
- No, I'll tell him.
He might not listen to you.
- You think so?
But... I am the king.
His Excellency President Storek
is waiting in the council chamber
at Your Majesty's pleasure.
Well,
he's here already, the bad man.
We're all doomed.
I imagine my visit
is not very pleasant
for Your Majesty.
However I am certain
that you will quickly realise
that the common good
is my only concern.
And that my intention
is not to separate
the cause of the public
from the royal cause.
I only wish in the meantime
to win Your Majesty's esteem
and your trust.
From time to time,
if you want,
I can have a chat with you. Eh?
I'm sure there are lots of things
you know nothing about.
Have you ever visited a coal mine?
No, sir.
Yes...
obviously.
Obviously.
You see, we must have no repeat
of yesterday's events.
We can't have men shooting
at their brothers.
There mustn't be women and children
being killed.
War, Sire...
be it civil or between nations,
is one of the greatest evils
afflicting our poor humanity.
Your Majesty
will understand one day.
Oh, I understand.
Sir...
May I retain Barbara?
Barbara?
She's my nurse.
She raised me.
She's my only friend.
But of course, Sire.
And now tell me, just between us,
did you enjoy
attending the Council of Ministers?
The duties of my office...
- Yes, yes, of course.
And from now on,
Your Majesty will replace
the time spent in the company
of those old gentlemen
with a nice walk in the grounds.
- Thank you, sir!
If it's possible...
- Of course.
And we'll start this morning.
All right... I shall return.
So... goodbye, Sire.
No President of the Council!
And no Doctor Jacklow!
What are you doing here?
Don't you know that it's forbidden
to enter the grounds?
Ah, but I know you!
I've seen you before.
They'll soon be making the rounds
and if they find you,
they'll put you in jail.
I'll try to get you out.
You're in luck
that I'm the king.
Really, I am the king.
Haven't you seen my profile
on the coins?
I'm just escorting my comrade.
Goodbye.
Oh, it's Mr. Storek's overcoat!
My dear, your tailor
awaits His Majesty
for him to try on
his new ceremonial robes.
The day after tomorrow
is Saint Sventila.
At last!
It's been eight days
that my dearest has been unconscious.
So I'm better now?
- Soon.
The President of the Council
has a request to make
to Your Majesty.
May Your Majesty excuse
that I'm required to disturb him,
but we are forced to make
an appeal to him.
Well, well...
Did Your Majesty get a glimpse,
the other day at the cathedral,
of the man who threw the bomb?
Yes, I saw him.
Well, Sire,
we believe we've arrested that man.
Two gendarmes
have brought him here
and the examining magistrate
would like to show him to you.
But His Majesty can't get up!
Yes, yes, I can.
Mr. Storek is no longer
President of the Council?
No.
While Your Majesty was recovering,
he was deposed
and Mr. Marski has replaced him.
Sire, please raise your hand
and swear to tell the truth.
I swear.
Sire, simply look at this man
and consider
if you recognise him to be
the man who threw the grenade
in the direction of Your Majesty.
Your Majesty should take his time.
Let him weigh the gravity
of his testimony.
I do not recognise him.
Sire... but that's impossible!
We found on the accused some...
May Your Majesty excuse me,
but I wonder
if he has understood correctly?
I swear
this man is not the same one!
Now leave me in peace,
I've nothing more to say.
But we must make an example!
Stifle the revolution at its roots!
- Of course...
Or else we'll have no peace.
It's for what time?
5am.
Come on, keep your nerve.
Section...
Halt.
Ready...
I don't want this!
I don't want him killed!
I don't want it!
I don't want him killed!
Aim...
Fire!
Have you read this?
- No, what's that?
The health of His Majesty
continues to give
much cause for concern
and in light of the inadequacy
of the Royal Physician, Doctor Jacklow
and his Pannonian colleagues,
we have had to summon from Paris
the celebrated Professor Bonnard
of the Academy of Medicine.
That's nice for myself
and my colleagues, isn't it?
It's an opposition newspaper.
Tell me, is he in there?
Who? This Bonnard?
Yes, he's in there...
with my Pannonian colleagues.
Okay, let's see...
Heredity...
The father?
- King Bogus, sir.
An iron constitution, a giant.
Is he dead?
- Yes.
Of what?
- Assassinated.
And the mother?
Dead too.
Assassinated as well?
No syphilitics in the family?
Oh no, sir!
Well, well...
And the child?
No serious illnesses?
Only some troubles...
intermittent ones.
Doctor Jacklow
is His Majesty's regular physician.
His Majesty?
And now let's have a proper look.
Come over here, young man.
Undress.
Do you have a good appetite?
- Sometimes.
What's he been eating?
Oatmeal porridge,
sliced uncooked meat,
plain macaroni,
mashed prunes.
Yes, yes...
Are his bowel movements regular?
My God, sir, His Majesty...
What? He has constipation?
- A little, sir.
Well, my fellow!
Yes... A towel.
You know, before I was unwell
I was much bigger.
Much?
Yes... at least somewhat.
- Turn around.
Cough.
Cough again.
Turn around.
Deep breaths.
Again.
What would you say
to a short trip?
I think I'd catch a cold.
It's foggy everywhere.
Plus Vodlow is miserable.
And Temesnik is freezing.
This is why we need to talk
about a longer trip.
Of a stay in a country
where there's sunshine, flowers.
By the Mediterranean Sea.
You know of it?
I remember the Mediterranean Sea.
I saw a picture of it once.
There was a bright blue sea,
with palm trees on the shore
and white sails in the distance.
And children playing in the sand.
Really?
And one can play with them?
You'd like that?
- Oh yes!
But my uncle Paul and the Council
of Ministers would never allow it.
Don't bother about that.
Get dressed and go have some fun.
That child must leave
this country at once.
He's a candidate for tuberculosis,
cerebral congestion, anemia.
So for the moment, no drugs.
Good nutrition, fresh air
and above all, sunshine.
Sunshine?
- Yes.
It's a medicine you don't have.
But we have this in my land.
This is good advice, is it not?
Yes, of course, kind sir.
Your esteemed diagnostic...
Perhaps a touch pessimistic...
You think so?
It seems to me
that with certain tonics...
Really?!
These gentlemen cannot ignore that...
- ... reasons of state...
Reasons of state?!
What's that all about?
I'm talking to you
about the life of a child.
But we don't doubt that...
Of a child in the process
of being murdered!
If I may, professor...
You spoke of my pessimism
but I find in you
a suspicious optimism!
You exaggerate.
- Perhaps...
but I will not be party
to this pitiful farce.
The vigilant care we have always
given to His Majesty...
All right, sir! All right!
This child leaves this country
without delay.
Yes, rest assured, dear sir,
that we take most serious account
of your opinion...
But it is not an opinion,
gentlemen, it is an order!
And I am used to my orders
being carried out.
This child must be transported
immediately to France.
To the sunshine.
Otherwise... I will appeal
to opinion in Europe.
Goodbye, lad.
You think they'll let me go?
- Of course.
You have my word.
- Thank you, sir.
You may come along, gentlemen.
Do you think he's right?
The bright blue sea...
The sunshine...
The sails...
The sand...
Do you think this is a fantasy?
Oh no, I don't think so.
What name shall I put, madam?
Countess Slasko.
Tell me...
Is it really here that the little king
of Pannonia is staying?
Incognito, madam.
Yes,
but it's in all the newspapers.
That's what they mean by
"incognito".
Thanks.
Good morning, Sire.
Your Majesty must forgive me
that he hasn't seen me much recently.
However I've been detained by...
by some important matters.
Where was that?
- Erm...
In Monte Carlo.
But since we've decided to let
étiquette slide...
We're on a break, Chamberlain.
- Thank you, Sire.
Are you watching my imp
of a granddaughter?
Oh pardon me, madam.
No need to apologise.
Why don't you play with her?
- I can't.
Why?
- It's not allowed.
Would you like me
to ask your daddy?
I don't have a daddy.
Well then, your mummy?
I don't have a mummy.
You're a nice young man.
But you know,
you mustn't go that way...
it's the little king's garden.
It doesn't matter because,
you see, I am the little king.
Forgive me.
Grandmother, the flowers.
It's so hot.
[inaudible]
Good morning, young man.
Lillie...
Leave them.
Listen, Sire...
Go and play, the both of you.
Leave protocol to me.
I'll hide. You find me!
Okay.
1...
2...
3.
Yoo-hoo!
Sorry, madam.
Sire...
Would Your Majesty not allow me
a few words with him?
I don't have time, madam.
Plus I've been instructed
not to talk to strangers.
The thing is that I knew...
I met your mother
before she died.
And she charged me,
in case one day
circumstances brought us together
with a commission
for Your Majesty.
Mummy?
Tell my little Michel
how unhappy
his mummy was without him.
And give him a big kiss for me.
Michel?
Run along and don't tell.
Never. To anyone.
Yes.
President,
I am happy to pay my respects
and to greet you in person,
the beautiful nation
you represent so worthily
and of which
I'm honoured to be the host.
Well, are you coming?
Nothing doing today.
Protocol.
What's this?
What's with that weird costume?
Oh, come down!
- Okay.
Don't go far, dear.
The Chamberlain is picking you up
in half an hour.
Yes, I'll stay in the garden.
The President of the Republic
is in Nice tomorrow
to inaugurate the statue
of an old gentleman.
It appears therefore to be
of utmost importance for Pannonia
that I go and greet him at the station
with the Chamberlain.
Oh no!
I thought we were going to play
this morning with the street kids
in the Old Port like we said.
Oh for Pete's sake!
Maybe we've got time to go there
and set up a meeting for tomorrow?
You think we've time?
- Oh yes.
It's not far,
nobody will notice.
You're the general?!
Give me the costume!
Hey over there, listen!
Come here!
Don't laugh!
Try to bomb
those morons opposite!
Do you understand,
you stupid dummy?
He called me "stupid dummy"!
Oh, the fun I'm having!
Michel?
Michel!
Come on, hurry, hurry!
Good heavens!
And the presidential train
is about to enter the station!
Yes, it's coming...
- Phew, what a scorcher!
It must've been slightly held up.
Gentlemen...
Thank you.
- Gentlemen, here's the train.
Ah, here it is!
It's on time.
Get out of the way, darn it!
Can't you see we're rolling!
Michel!
Ammunition, ammunition!
Truce! It's the armistice!
11am!
The President of the French Republic...
I forgot about him.
Pannonia is in the soup!
Hang on...
Good God,
what happened to Your Majesty?
Oh nothing, it was war.
- War?
A mock war.
Everyone's been looking for you.
The Chamberlain left in despair.
Phooey!
That's too bad.
You can't go back
to the hotel like this.
What will they all think?
Do you know that Your Majesty
looks much better
than when you arrived
6 months ago.
You think so?
Doesn't the fact please you?
- Oh no!
But why's that?
Because if I look healthy,
Doctor Bonnard will come,
he'll say I'm cured
and I'll go back to Grochol.
You don't like Grochol?
It's a prison.
Yes.
Madam...
I'd like to ask you something.
It was some time ago...
you said you know my mummy
... who's dead.
Is my mummy really dead?
Ah, there you are!
At last!
But... Jesus and Mary,
what's happened to you?
Your Majesty!
You know her?
It's her?
It's my mummy?
Mummy...
- Yes.
My son.
Mummy.
- Little Michel, I've found you.
Be careful nobody sees you.
Well, here we have it!
Don't worry, young man.
You are cured.
Completely cured.
You don't think that...
a short month and a half...
or two... two more...
You don't think?
No, there's no need.
Because personally,
I've some pretty important business...
Business?
- In... in Monte Carlo.
Mmm... no.
You can return tomorrow.
Oh right...
It only remains for me
to pay Your Majesty my respects.
So I have to go back?
Yes... I know how you feel, lad.
I will however
advise the government of Pannonia
that it will be essential
that His Majesty
returns here to spend
another two or three winters.
That wouldn't be
too objectionable?
Thank you, doctor.
I'm cured.
- Cured?
I depart tomorrow.
And you wont be coming back?
- Yes...
Perhaps...
In a year.
Listen,
I'll write to the government.
I'll tell them
that every year you must spend
some time with me.
A nice house full of flowers,
full of birds, you'll see.
Yes mummy.
In a year.
My baby...
It seems they found 11 bombs
in a cellar...
in Grochol.
Mummy, I don't want to go.
I don't want to leave you.
Come on,
you must be brave.
It took a great deal for me
to endure all these long years.
But it was all for you.
So you could become a great king.
I don't want to be king.
I want to be a child like the others.
- No, Michel.
You must be king.
Soon,
you'll understand all the good
you can do around you.
You'll be very powerful.
And from afar I will advise you.
Michel!
[inaudible]
Come, you have to go, my boy.
Tomorrow, before leaving,
come to my room,
I'll be waiting for you.
Go.
Don't forget now.
So, has my dearest
remembered everything?
I'll see you downstairs
in 5 minutes.
Okay, hurry along.
And say goodbye to her for me.
- Yes.
Your Majesty is ready.
Hurry, we're late.
Come along, Sire, we must hurry.
Madam, my respects.
Goodbye, young lady...
Oh, excuse me.
Come along, Sire.
- Goodbye, Michel.
Goodbye, Majesty.
Come, come... chop chop!
I must advise Your Majesty
that because of
some serious developments
that have taken place in Grochol,
Your Majesty will have to leave
the train at the Pannonian frontier
and continue the journey in a car
that will be waiting for him.
Sire...
Terrible news.
Entry to Pannonia has been forbidden
to Your Majesty.
A republic has been proclaimed,
Mr. Storek is appointed president.
So, I'm not king anymore?
No, Sire.
Then no more Grochol!
No more Doctor Jacklow!
Let's get going!
Yes!
Chauffeur, to Monte Carlo.