Secrets of a Ballerina (1943) - full transcript
Us: Secrets of a ballerina
literal: A single love
The director is expecting me.
The director is in conference, sir.
I'll wait.
Madame.
Dear sir.
Madame...
Here is your great-aunt,
valued today at 60,000f
by an expert.
The opera, in accepting
Clara biondi's legacy,
has insured this canvas
for 10,000f.
What was the year? - 1826.
It was 50 years ago.
Géricault was still about.
What about the ingres, sir?
The ingres...
Less.
Much less.
Here you are.
Is this Clara biondi? - Yes.
And...?
The count de clergue, her husband.
Of course!
These are two sketches by ingres,
indeed.
Where are the paintings?
At chateau de clergue.
We are going there shortly. Ah.
You will lend them to me
for the fiftieth anniversary exhibition?
Yes.
But mention
in a caption in the catalogue:
"Collection gontran de la tournelle."
Of course.
Director sir. - Goodbye.
Madame, monsieur.
Dear madame.
If you knew how successful
it's been already with the public,
my project for the fiftieth anniversary
of the death of Clara biondi.
They'll be packed in like sardines, in the
foyer de da dance, with all these mementos.
Your exhibition will launch my book.
Have you found a title, at last?
Yes. 'A single love'.
Banal, perhaps,
but rigorously accurate.
Indeed.
"It is a singular love that suddenly
delighted her worshippers",
as musset said so beautifully.
"If you want no more to dance,
if you want no more to pass
on this great sombre theatre,
do not chase after your shadow
and leave it with us."
Do you have any other mementoes,
madame? - Yes.
You will take care of them?
Insured, according to the experts.
Two slippers. - Ah...
Her little feet were inside these...
An umbrella.
A fan.
How moving...
When will your book appear?
I have a meeting about that,
at home, with my editor.
Is the editor there? - Yes, sir.
The president
of the commission of inquiry
urgently requests your financial report.
Since when is a commission
of inquiry in such a rush?
This will end in a mistrial!
We are in the Republic.
The permission to print...
You were supposed to send me this morning
the permission to print the book!
I'll ask it again in a few days.
Why?
We are ready to make great strides.
My wife has just recently
come into possession
of chateau de clergue,
near vendome,
that she has inherited from her great-aunt,
Clara biondi,
who died 50 years ago,
left to her by virtue
of a testamentary provision,
50 years later on the condition
it was on her death.
50 years later? What an odd idea.
It was a refuge of unique happiness.
It is not for us to judge
certain peculiarities.
But, proud of my method
and sure of my flair,
I hope to find there documents
for my work as a historian,
that I may be unassailable
and complete.
But not too many corrections...
My conscience will be the sole judge.
Of course.
On that, I am not
keen about your title,
'a single love'.
No, nobody. It is the only one
that will do.
That may be,
but 'a single love'...
It won't grab people.
It's too well-mannered,
it doesn't bed-hop.
The public want adventure.
Classy, but a page-Turner.
You are considering corrections,
so come up with something better, go on.
Make it a romantic life.
This will never do.
Success will be guaranteed.
There's something more important
than success:
It's the truth.
It's not commercial...
But it's the truth!
Petit, I have for
the science of accuracy
a taste that my training
as a polytechnician confirmed.
An amateur historian, I could
give a lesson in objectivity
to professional historians.
What, again?
The gentleman insists. - No.
He's come on behalf
of Mr. de baquére.
Ah? Show him in.
I'll take my leave.
I'll see you on my return.
Meaning?
5 days, at most. - Very well.
But don't you...
Oh, but I'm not worried.
Sir...?
Sir, it's Mr. de baquere,
at the inspection of finances...
Yes. What's bothering him?
Some letters.
What letters? 2 letters which...
Excuse me. Godéne fils,
antiquarian.
112, rue de chateaudun.
May interest you, according
to mr de baquére, who's read them.
You are a relative of the famous
dancer Clara biondi, apparently.
Grand-nephew by my wife.
I hope...
Well, these two letters,
in perfect condition,
are addressed to Clara biondi,
24, rue vignon.
That was indeed her address.
The postmarks are illegible.
Ah, these are two letters
from the king of Sweden.
I mention them in my book.
Thank you, sir.
The king of Sweden? No, sir. No.
See the coat of arms on the postmark.
A spurred chicken.
Indeed, a chicken.
A chicken.
Well then, from who?
From a certain James, a foreigner.
Undoubtedly her lover at that time.
What?
Must have been an english officer.
With that forename.
From the army of occupation in 1815.
Sir, I...
Let's see. - Gladly.
The first is a short note where this James,
in desperation, asks her for 50 Louis.
A gambling debt, no doubt.
A forgery. It's a forgery.
And I can prove it by the date:
"18th march 1815."
On 18th march 1815, sir,
Clara biondi was dancing in Vienna,
where she met the count de clergue,
collaborator
of the prince de talleyrand.
Gérard de clergue, her single love.
Which one?
She hasn't made her entrance yet.
We were too early.
Here she is.
What a face.
Yes.
Later, we'll go and see her
behind the scenes,
if you like.
Yes.
Excellency.
Look.
"Escaped from the island of elba"?
Impossible.
With him, anything is possible.
Your arm, clergue.
I should have held fast
and had this Bonaparte deported
to one of the islands of the azores,
500 leagues from any land.
What to do now?
Catch him and hang him.
Excuse me.
Tomorrow, clergue,
you leave for Paris.
The place... - Mind out.
Don't barge in on
the prince de talleyrand like this.
Make yourself known.
But to who?
There's nobody about.
Vienna is in turmoil.
No, not there.
Allow me.
Oh, see here...
I'm leaving Vienna in an hour.
For your final instructions,
where can I find you?
In bed.
Who let you in? Get out.
Come on. - But...
Come in.
Clergue?
Clergue? Do you hear me, clergue?
Clergue?
You'll have to excuse me, prince.
An important visit
has just been announced.
Who? Who?
Highness.
You're overstating it. - Bishop.
No.
Prince?
It doesn't matter.
But... what can I say?
We do not have the honour.
To know of you.
You, no, sir. Miss, yes.
Splendid.
I'm her father, excellency.
I am the father
of the angel of dance.
I have two daughters:
Giulietta and Clara.
Giulietta, the oldest,
she hasn't the ballon.
Clara, she has the ballon.
And it is I who has made her
the most beautiful ballerina
in all Europe.
Holiness, Grant me the grace
that I ask of you.
Sorry?
But get yourself to your feet, sir.
On the count of three...
Uno, due, tre.
Knees pointing out.
What concerns you, miss? Well...
My engagement in Vienna is over.
I must be in Paris for 26th April
and it's now 18th march.
The frontiers will be closed because...
Bonaparte! - Daddy...
Yes, yes, yes...
We thought to have the boldness
to solicit from the prince
to obtain a...
A passport, a visa...
A safe-conduct.
You will be in Paris
before 26th April.
Thank you.
Thank you. - Not you, sir.
Why?
I can offer only one place
in my carriage.
Me separated from her?
Clara never travels alone.
She is not of age.
I'm her father, and I say: Never.
I'm sorry.
Oh, daddy...
My contract...
My future...
Never.
Nougat? It's delicious.
The squares are nougat.
Here, one of the liqueurs.
Try it. - Thank you.
And you? - Isn't it just?
One thing intrigues me.
What's that?
Since Vienna, there's a question
I've been dying to ask you.
What is this "ballon"?
I seem ridiculous to you? Oh...
Your sister giulietta doesn't have
the ballon, but you have.
What is the ballon?
Here, look.
This is the ballon. - I see.
This...
Is the "tacté".
And this...
Is the "grand jeté".
Delightful.
Where are we?
10 leagues from Paris.
I was asleep a long time.
And on 26th April,
she danced at the opéra, so...
I misread the date:
It's "18th may", and not "18th march".
That explains everything.
It says "march". - "May."
It's "march".
I'll allow this, but the other letter
corroborates what I say.
It's also from this James.
Analysis of the handwriting reveals:
The a open below:
A rampant egoism.
The c at a right angle:
An aptitude for business.
Oversized capital letters:
A desire to make an effect.
A pretty lamentable sort,
in short.
In this letter,
he asks her for 100 Louis.
Why do you seem determined to paint
my wife's great-aunt
as a trollop?
Sophie?
I don't understand
why you are so insistent.
I thought these letters
would interest you.
They're forgeries!
If they don't interest you,
they'll interest others.
Clara biondi is back in fashion.
It's been an honour, sir.
Show me that. What's the point?
I want to see just how far the infamy
could go of a rival, a thwarted suitor.
Show me.
Did you call me?
Yes, yes. You're not intruding.
Unbelievable!
Listen to this garbage about aunt Clara.
What?
"I'm not consoled,
my beloved hummingbird"...
"My hummingbird"... - But...
"By the way you treated me yesterday.
"I arrived with a heart full of you
and arms full of roses..."
Wonderful!
Little guita is so charmingl...
Clara biondi is a great artist!
16 curtain calls, my dear Clara.
It's fantastic.
Guita told me.
Yes, of course.
You are the greatest,
and also the bravest.
You have lost your father,
you are in grief,
but you never danced better.
But I admire you, dear.
I can't believe they were against us.
You are the greatest.
And what's more, the best paid.
Isn't she, director sir?
La révolte au sérail, go in.
Oh, that'll be for me.
I'll leave you.
You are the greatest.
Bravo once again, my dear Clara.
Thank you, director sir.
She's touched.
She didn't say a word.
She'll never recover from this.
Eh, honey?
I hope.
He's her lover.
He's costing her a packet.
Now, she's between his paws.
I'm not receiving anyone.
Nobody?
Yes. I'm waiting for the count de clergue.
Ah... he's a man. - Yes.
It's him.
Go and open it.
What are you doing here?
I don't want to see you
in my dressing room. - Clara...
Didn't you understand? Leave me alone.
Since your return from Austria,
I've been trying in vain to see you.
You've been hiding yourself.
From Vienna, I didn't receive
the smallest note.
I wrote to you,
18th may, rue vignon.
No answer.
Didn't I send you what you asked?
Without an accompanying word.
Ah, how you've changed.
You haven't.
No, Clara.
Clara...
I love you like crazy.
You bore me.
Your nerves are all agitated.
No, grief-stricken.
I know,
my poor little bird of passage,
I heard from the newspapers about
your father's death. It's natural
that I should bring you my sympathies.
Not in my dressing room.
Well, well... one might say
that you are ashamed of me.
Amélie, go and see. - Yes, miss.
Oh, right...
It's him that you're waiting for.
You should go.
You're awaiting your diplomat.
You've had enough of me.
I understand.
It took you long enough.
Ingrate.
Where would you be without me?
A perfectly proper girl.
My memories of you
leave a bad taste.
Too late. - Put my bag down.
You love me.
No. - No?
Luckily, I have your letters.
How much do you want?
You shouldn't speak to me in that tone.
Here you are alone in life.
You reject me,
instead of leaning on me
who launched you
with my echoes of hullaballoo,
who promoted you
in his sparkling tam-tam column.
You prefer to give yourself
to a serious protector.
A rich man, not bad for his age,
it makes sense,
but who sees in you
nothing more than a mistress.
Get out. - No.
You'll live to regret this.
You're endangering your career,
girlie.
Follow my advice
or guita will outshine you.
She has fire, petulance,
passion, character.
She's the coming thing, la guita.
You, you're chaste, fragile, cold.
You are the glacier of dance.
A mistake!
It's crucial, during and after your steps,
that all your spectators want
to sleep with you.
You are despicable.
Putting on grand airs...
You think you're a countess already?
You want me to help you?
I told you to get out.
You think I'm scared of him?
Yes.
Less than you are at this moment.
Coward. - Me?
Okay, show him in.
You can introduce me.
I have no fear of seeing him.
We can have a nice chat.
I will not allow this.
I am the first, after all.
If he acts all high and mighty, "slap
slap” and all that follows. Yes indeed!
The count
is coming up the dressing room stairs.
Luckily, I'm a good boy.
I don't want to get you into trouble.
Go on, hide me.
No. What will happen, will happen.
It'll be terrible.
So much the better.
Clara...
You love him, it'll be your fault
if you lose him. Aren't I right?
Miss...
I was waiting for you.
Excuse me for the late hour...
Here. - Oh, again?
The pharmacies are closed.
I had to...
Pharmacies? - It's a remedy.
A syrup of iodinated bromide.
I'm not sick.
And you'll sleep like a baby.
Amélie?
A spoon and a glass of water,
please.
Sit down and be sensible.
The count is right.
Yes. You have just been through
a cruel ordeal.
You will have incurred extra fatigue
tonight when dancing...
By the way, divinely,
because the king was in the room.
It was for you that I danced.
Open your mouth...
There.
It's not bad.
A drop of water...
And there you go.
My friend...
I have need of you.
Not more than I.
Clara,
I am certain of my feelings,
and if I'm not mistaken about yours,
I ask you to be my wife.
Oh, that's impossible.
Yes, I know.
Ah? - There's your career.
I'm not asking you to give it up.
No.
No?
Well, yes, but not only that.
Gérard, I must tell you...
No, don't say anything.
I trust you completely.
Whatever you decide will be for the best.
Come with me.
Just a moment, will you?
I am happy, here, next to you.
Look at me.
What is it?
Some sleepiness.
The syrup is taking effect.
Amélie? - Already?
If I leave it any later,
you'll have to carry me.
Very well, let's go.
Goodbye, amélie. - Count sir.
Amélie, don't forget to put away
my costume.
No danger of that, miss.
Coming, coming.
It was lucky
that she locked me away.
But it would have cost her nothing
to have waited.
You tell Clara this.
Hey...
You've lost a glove.
Oh, all that has the stink
of some cheap soap-opera.
It's this British name,
that pretentious touch.
He was nothing but a fop
with pretensions to journalism
in the pay
of that acrobat guita,
who got what she wanted,
since she forced Clara
to leave the opera at the peak of her fame.
Sophie, what are you saying?
Have you read the manuscript
of 'a single love', yes or no?
On page 37,
I prove that Clara biondi
left the opéra of her own free will.
This is reflected
in the revenue register.
On July 281815,
with 3824f rental,
a huge fee for the time,
Clara biondi, advertised in
'le génie des airs', did not appear.
They had to reimburse the tickets.
The uniformed men, and women,
smashed up their seats,
that night.
I cite my references in the annex.
No Clara biondi.
They alerted the police,
they even searched the morgue.
Nobody. - But... where was she?
Where? With clergue, sir.
At clergue's chateau,
married the day before
in the little church, since destroyed.
Married to gérard de clergue.
Forgive me if I quote my text:
"They had decided to live
apart from the world,
renouncing, her, her dancing,
him, his career,
and putting each other above everything."
Page 167 etc.
This is the truth, no offense
to your false witnesses.
How much were your two letters?
To what end?
I have a memory...
I wouldn't say to defend,
but to preserve. How much?
90f, catalogue price.
For the two.
It's expensive for filth.
I don't have the money...
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, we'll be in vendome.
Wait there. - Very good, sir.
Master goze.
Mr. gontran de la "tourelle"?
De la tournelle.
Madame. Master goze is waiting for you.
This way, please.
Master goze will be with you shortly.
Gontran, my bustle. - Yes, dear.
Madame, sir. - Master.
My deepest respects, madame.
You had a pleasant journey?
250 kilometres in 11 hours.
Hell of a train.
Steam. Progress, my dear master.
A great honour,
Mr. de la tournelle.
Please have a seat.
At last the gates of clergue
will open before us.
Oh...
Hardly. - Why?
Because of the rust.
Georges.
Georges...
My little man.
Do you have children?
Alas no, madame.
I thought so.
No. Mrs goze has unfortunately
been stricken with sterility...
Shortly after our marriage, what's more.
As a consequence of the mumps'
epidemic that ravaged vendome
and of which
she was one of the first victims.
Georges, come and clear away
my towel and my bowl.
Excuse me.
I am alone in the house.
Mrs goze is at the meeting
of the children of Mary with the maid,
like every 10th
and 20th of the month.
It's unfortunate timing.
One moment.
It's my father.
He received the latest good wishes
from the countess.
Oh, but he still has all his marbles.
All one has to do is say the name
of the countess in front of him for...
Come and see.
Dad, this gentleman and lady
are the clergue heirs.
The countess of clergue.
Ah... the countess.
She was beautiful, old chap.
She called me one evening, late.
I was about to go to bed.
It was a Monday...
The countess has been given the last rites.
She won't survive the night.
At 29, she sees herself dying.
However, she is joyful.
Her optimism has never been greater.
Madame.
Don't talk.
She is not to hear
the slightest sound.
What you might say
could be the end for her.
Please sit down.
I'm entrusting to you...
My will.
At last, I will live again.
Come closer,
I must tell you...
Closer.
Hurry.
I must...
Absolutely...
As long as I live,
I'll hear her voice.
"I must tell you..."
What?
It had to have been important,
but what was it?
Nobody will ever know.
There, he exaggerates a little.
I'm afraid so.
The will of the countess created
some noise.
Leaving a chateau closed
for 50 years...
They made it, in large amounts,
at the vigil.
Telling stories of phantoms...
The loves of the count and countess
became the stuff of legend,
and their tomb always has flowers.
Gérard and Clara are names often given
to boys and girls around here.
Most touching.
As simply executor of the will,
I respected the wishes
of the deceased.
We have only declared
the doors and windows
to assess the taxes
which I have continued to pay
annually to this day.
No childcare expenses,
no maintenance costs.
So you are now owners of the land,
of the building
including furniture, except...
One moment.
Of which exception is made
concerning a crucifix
in ivory saying jansénist,
given by the countess while living
to Rosalie...
Rosalie, you know.
Listen.
To Rosalie, the widow bouchard,
and a painting entitled 'jéricho'
portraying the countess
with wings on her back
and bequeathed by her
to the grand opéra in Paris.
Plus various linen and rags,
rings and items of no value
to the convent of visitation nuns
of vendome,
where she retired after
the death of the count.
Well...
It only remains for us
to visit the place.
Please, one moment,
I'll arrange some transportation.
No need, I retained my cab.
Oh, all the better.
This way,
my coachman can watch over my father.
I've had a few worries.
And Rosalie, how is she?
Always fighting fit.
She enjoys the good health
of a soul at peace.
We'll pass by there.
I gave her a warning.
Xavier, they're here.
Mum, I again saw the black cat
on the wall of the estate.
It's just an animal.
No, it's him who has returned.
Shut up, you great ninny.
He's returned to clergue.
Shut up.
Rosalie, here are the heirs to the estate.
But we have met once before.
Do you recognise me, Rosalie?
Yes.
You haven't changed, Rosalie.
78 years old.
Don't tire yourself, sit down.
I'm all right.
Xavier?
The cassis.
Gentlemen, ladies.
Good morning.
Give me that.
Is this your son? - Yes.
Well, Xavier,
is all well with you?
Yes. And you?
We were drafted in the same year.
1847.
You bought a replacement
but I...
I served in Algeria.
I saw abd El-kader. Awful.
I was in the zouaves.
You should have seen the women.
Don't talk so much.
Xavier?
Go and open the gate.
The big one?
Impossible. A Rose Ivy
is twisted in the bars.
Well, the workman's. - Okay.
And clear the pathways.
It comes up to here...
I'll use my largest. - Yes.
Nice piece.
It's mine. I don't want to sell it.
No question of that.
It's a keepsake, you see.
A keepsake.
Your health.
Will you come with us, Rosalie?
Where?
To the estate.
You know the place.
You could guide us.
No.
Why?
My legs wouldn't stand it.
You said: "I'm all right."
It's too far.
We're going by carriage.
No. - Oh, come on, come on...
Don't be difficult, Rosalie.
I'm asking you this favour.
I've taken good care of your affairs,
and for no charge.
I made some nice investments for you,
purchased annuities.
I don't like 3%.
Okay. But you also have
the Russian loan. It's famous.
Leave me in peace
the count set you up for life,
Rosalie.
He favoured your husband.
And later?
You know that the heirs
may revoke donations
because of ingratitude.
Since when? Well, it's the law.
You have shown your ingratitude and
you'll be hearing from us. Farewell.
After you, please.
I'm coming.
Just in time.
I'm scared of vipers.
There won't be any.
Vipers require dry surroundings.
What vegetation.
Lady, it's been 50 years!
How poetic it is!
The chateau of sleeping beauty!
Just what I was going to say.
Me too.
And there, what was that?
There? It was for the dogs.
Tanbelle's doghouse...
Her favourite.
Here, here, here.
Come here, come here.
Darling...
Rosalie!
Countess?
Serve breakfast outside.
Very well, madame.
Are you hungry?
Me? All the time. I love you.
Ah, it's sultan. - Yes.
I'm getting better at jumping, aren't I?
Astonishingly.
You're mad at me for last night?
Leave me alone.
We will be getting married.
I'm in a hurry.
Old fool!
No, thank you.
More coffee than milk.
Like in Vienna. You remember
Vienna, Saint-Petersburg,
London, Stockholm, Milan...
Your success, your triumphs...
Do you still think of it? - No.
It's not a reproach.
I only wonder sometimes
if you haven't given up too much,
by sacrificing your previous life.
My previous life?
I've thrown it in the fire.
Here, with you,
I have eternal happiness.
Happiness?
What is this was just the art
of consolation?
Here, read this.
No.
Happiness,
it's wanting what we have.
Darling...
Watch out, the gardiner.
"They all wound,
"the last kills."
What "they"? - The hours.
Oh no. No, that's not true.
For us, that's not true.
Oh time, pause your flight
and you, auspicious hours
suspend your course
let us savor the delights
of the most beautiful of our days.
You already know
those fine words by heart?
Yes. I've finished the small volume
that just came out,
the one you leant me.
Les premieres
meditations poétiques?
Les premieres meditations
poétiques, who was it by?
The author did not give his name,
but he's a man
there'll be talk about.
Concealer! You're the author!
Me?
No. I recognise all your ideas.
I thought I was hearing you.
But...
Admit it.
There.
Oh... the prince's fine service...
They had a dozen the same.
It's a museum piece.
Okay,
but the whole place needs re-roofing.
Ask under right of inventory.
No, out of the question.
Dear, perhaps it was once lovely,
but today, it's uninhabitable.
At least 10,000f of work.
But we'll do it,
we'll restore it,
we'll maintain it brilliantly.
I have requested the state council
to elevate the name.
I may soon be titled
gontran de clergue.
We will live here in the summer.
We'll set up a museum.
Ah, here's the salon.
You want to take a look?
But, Rosalie,
the piano's not in its place.
Neither is this couch.
No. - Ah...
How do you know?
I have the plan of the salon
drawn by the count.
I have moreover reproduced it
in my book, page 302,
along with the one of the blue room.
What's the matter? - Nothing.
Oh, what silk.
So lush!
We must find some the same today.
Curtains for the lamp.
And consider this parquet, madame.
A marvel.
Oak and pear tree.
You should have seen it waxed.
The hearth is full of ashes.
Memento quia pulvis es.
Et in pulverem reverteris.
Eh? No.
There was always a fire,
as early as September.
Even once,
in August...
Well, they told me to make one.
They were newlyweds.
They'd come from Paris.
They had refurbished the chateau...
And these are...
Two letters from the king of Sweden.
Into the fire.
"My recollections on immigration.”
Oh no, that's historical.
What's the point?
Historians will have, I trust,
the same bad faith
as their predecessors.
My three-year contract
at the opéra.
And this...
A ticket from the Duke of reichstadt.
Oh, keep it. - No.
No. I want to burn all my mementos,
even the most innocent,
so that I am yours entirely.
These letters
wanted to separate us.
They are not all signed.
Show me. - No.
It's not enough for some people
to be happy,
they also require that others are not.
Watch as the fire gives that muck
a deserved fate.
Gérard... - What, darling?
Gérard, I...
There's something I still haven't told you.
I wasn't able to.
I tried, but...
But tonight, I must tell you.
We have said all there is to be said.
No.
Yes...
At least...
What really matters.
Don't torment yourself.
We both have a past.
We had a past.
But it is dead, finished, burnt.
And what must never happen,
never...
Is that it comes between us.
Never.
What's that?
What happened, friend?
A cat. A cat.
The black cat that jumped on me.
Get away... you're drunk, Xavier.
No, georges.
He twisted against my legs.
Stop your fooling.
I don't have the key to this room.
Okay...
But... Rosalie, there, it's...
The blue room.
Do you want to sit down? - No.
The blue room...
Page 142, 143 etc.
It's not without emotion...
It's locked.
There's nothing to be done
but to force it open.
Xavier? Xavier?
Xavier, the door.
I tried. It wont' budge.
Ah! Ah, here we go.
When I get involved...
Xavier, come on.
But... but where are you going?
Gontran!
Big-hearted servant...
Come on. - No.
You're not going to start up again,
Rosalie.
Oh no. My dear Rosalie,
I understand how you feel.
The emotion does you honour.
Myself, I... go on, come.
Ah... here we have it.
4 chairs covered in siamese,
a varnished double bed from China
and its mattress.
The bedding and drapes
in Camelot silk
of blue and white.
A dressing table of marquetry wood.
Items of furniture.
2 silver torches.
But, sorry,
those are the two ingres.
What are you calling a "zingre"?
Huh?
Oh, the two ingres.
The painter, ingres.
Oh! What was I thinking,
for god's sake.
What's this?
Where, dear? - There.
But...
They've blocked a door.
Why?
I've always seen it this way.
It must have been from centuries ago.
Undoubtedly.
It must be about
some treasure of clergue.
Oh! See there!
See there!
There it is!
Well,
have I been drinking, georges?
Mum... - Kill him.
Why?
Come on, there's nothing to fear.
This is strange. Mysterious...
A fairy tale.
Areal fairy tale.
Master goze,
you were speaking of treasure.
Yes. Enguerrand de clergue,
after the crusades...
This is unexpected.
I want to get to the bottom of this.
Xavier, break down that wall.
Unexpected.
I don't have the tools.
Here's a pickaxe.
What's that tool doing here?
Well, get on with it. To work.
What are you waiting for?
It's solid. I can't do it.
You should give it a try.
Don't touch that.
Well, this is embarrassing.
Very well.
Mr goze, you will obtain
a worker from vendome.
Do as you were told.
Mind out.
That will do, my friend.
That will do.
An olive-green Amazon.
Or what's left of it.
I don't see any armour.
A pretty felt
decorated with an ostrich feather,
no doubt to go with the Amazon.
I'm searching in vain for the beginning
of a subterranean tunnel.
What dust.
What is it? The treasure?
Something from the middle ages.
But...
Who's this?
A turk, perhaps.
Hey, it was the crusades.
A turk? In houndstooth trousers?
I'd rather like some cordial,
I'll admit.
Sophie?
Sophie...
It's nothing, a funny turn.
She's recovering.
Aren't you, Rosalie?
There's a skeleton
behind the wall.
What?
See.
Le cachet des deux lettres.
But... - Shush.
What about you?
You knew about this, didn't you?
You didn't want to come.
It was remorse that crippled your legs.
A little late for that.
A crime was committed here,
when you were in service?
There's a statue of limitations.
We are a law unto ourselves.
Ah... here's the confession.
They are accomplices. - Me goze,
you heard.
They have the front...
One moment.
You're wrong, both of you.
There is not a statue of limitations
for all accomplices.
Therefore, in your case,
article 59 of the penal code,
reinforced by article 635
of the code of criminal procedure,
increased by the fualdés' affair
and the bandits of drome,
which established the case law,
you will be condemned to forced labour
in perpetuity. - No!
I've done nothing. I wasn't born,
in 1825. It wasn't me.
In 1825?
So casimir was involved in this?
It'll be the public square,
I'm afraid.
The branding iron and the stigma.
One moment.
Confess.
If I tell you,
you won't act against me,
or Xavier?
We're listening.
We can keep the money?
Quickly and totally.
That day, the Marquis of sosthéne
had dinner at the chateau.
Who?
A neighbour from the region.
Ah, sosthéne de la noue?
Page 307.
That's it.
I was serving coffee in the salon.
The Marquis was there.
The count, there.
The countess was singing a love song
to them...
♪ When you see the swallows ♪
♪ Gathering on the eaves ♪
♪ To flee this cruel season ♪
♪ That makes fall the leaves ♪
♪ Run Tome ♪
♪ On bird's wings ♪
♪ To see me one last time ♪
♪ Don't leave like them ♪
♪ I will die far from you ♪
Bravo, bravo, bravo.
Absolutely delightful.
Light, heartbreaking.
Let's go for a ride.
We can accompany our friend home.
Another time.
I'm expecting someone.
Who? - A wood merchant.
From the locality? I know them all.
A Mr. monjaret.
He wrote to me from vendome.
They brought me his letter from the hotel.
What time? - This morning.
He asked me for a business meeting.
It seems important. Read.
Gérard?
Yes?
You're enlarging the stables?
The horses
are too cramped, they bite each other.
Sultan was attacked on the lower jaw.
Therefore I've decided to extend the stalls
and add an extra one.
An old project,
still uncompleted.
It's for the english trotter
that I'm giving to Clara.
Don't receive him.
Oh yes. The appointment's at 4pm.
I promise, it won't take long.
Dare I ask you to sing?
Oh yes...
Gladly.
♪ If the unhappiness of love holds
in sorrow ♪
♪ Your heart full of dark worries ♪
Mr monjaret. - Show him in.
Carry on, carry on. Oh yes, yes.
He doesn't matter,
this gentleman.
♪ Take the shady path that leads ♪
♪ To the green valleys ♪
♪ That we see here ♪
Mr. monjaret?
Himself, count sir.
This way.
I'm done for. - What?
The man talking to gérard...
Yes?
Behind the door. - Mr. monjaret.
No.
That man was my lover
and lived off me.
I loathe him, but he has me.
You?
Yes, me. Me who wanted everything
to be so pure, so beautiful.
Gérard doesn't know.
Gérard doesn't know anything.
He's going to know it all.
I have to...
Don't do anything crazy.
How can I look him in the face
after this?
He will be unable to admit
that I freed myself
of that wretch.
But gérard...
Gérard loves you.
He'll understand.
No, he never will.
He'll doubt me.
It'll all be over,
it's his happiness.
My whole life is at stake,
behind that door. Save me.
How should I...
Take these letters.
He wrote to me. I didn't answer,
not yesterday nor the day before.
So he's come under a false name.
He has the affrontery.
The scoundrel. If I ever...
Listen.
It's a deal you're offering me.
Too bad. - Be careful. Don't.
No, sir.
By an ordinance of waters
and forests, when we cut down a copice
we must leave the
most beautiful parts.
Of course. Then, tomorrow morning,
at the king's oak.
Please be punctual. - 8am.
Mr. monjaret.
My wife.
My respects, madame.
Mr. de la noue. An honour, sir.
How did you get here?
Through the forest.
I adore the walk.
You had the wrong idea.
I'm afraid.
You see, my dear,
it didn't take long.
What did he want?
To buy some cuttings,
at an advantageous price.
My dear friends,
I'll take my leave. - Already?
It's already 5pm.
We'll come with you.
Put on your Amazon.
It's getting late.
Let's go.
Earlier, you... I've given
the order to saddle the horses.
I've a few things that need sorting out
with Rosalie.
Your hand is cold.
Are you all right?
You just have to look at her...
Madame, I shall treasure the memory
of your singing.
You didn't notice anything?
No. What do you mean?
Since the day before yesterday.
She seems upset,
but what reason could she have?
I found her nervous,
too cheerful,
occasionally downcast and distant,
her mood swinging.
Earlier, as you saw,
she was very keen to come horseback riding.
I offer her, she refused.
No reason.
Perhaps... - What?
A baby? - Ah?
Oh no...
Oh yes.
I hadn't thought of that.
That would be splendid.
If it is the case, I'll be delighted,
but sorry personally.
Why?
You wouldn't be here
for the opening of the hunt,
on 25th September, in 20 days.
It's going to rain.
It won't amount to much.
Pardon, I know the area better,
ah yes, a storm is brewing.
My dove. - Don't.
What's up with you? Not before the wedding.
I'm angry. - Oh?
I've never seen him before,
this Mr. monjaret.
Here he comes asking for the countess,
I announce him, he doesn't wait,
he goes in and
slams the door in my face.
I don't believe you. - I swear.
What did you say? - Nothing.
What are you doing here?
I had to see you again.
After 8 years?
To return your letters.
I know,
I could have destroyed them.
They meant too much.
They're here.
How much do you want? - Oh...
Right away...
I know it looks bad, but...
Quickly, we won't be alone for long.
Yes, yes we will.
I saw them leave on horseback.
Nobody saddles a horse
for just 5 minutes.
We have time.
Are you out of your mind? - Why?
I love my husband. He's my entire life,
I am happy.
You could fracture everything.
If he sees you, if he learns...
Obviously,
he wouldn't be pleased.
Let's get this over with.
You see, I'm not fighting anymore,
I'll give in.
How much do you want
so I can get on with my life?
But this must be the last time.
10,000?
10,000... and the sacrifice
I'm making in parting with these?
20,0007?
Very well, I don't want
to seem greedy.
Are they all there?
Your letters? Yes.
And the keepsakes,
all that I have of yours...
Hand them over. I'll send you
a bill of exchange. Same address?
No. I live on the left bank,
rue monsieur-le-prince, 67.
I'll remember, go now.
But it's that...
What?
Give-and-take.
You don't trust me? - Yes.
Yes.
Only...
You don't want to give me an advance?
A small down payment.
You understand,
the point at which I'm at...
In 1815, during the occupation,
I made a decent living
in the newspapers.
But since the peace,
I am a little embarrassed.
If I didn't have to...
Hurry.
Thank you.
I never appeal in vain
to your kind heart.
So don't forget the address,
by the end of the month.
No mistakes. I'm counting on you.
Well, that's that.
But...
Hand them over.
Oh no.
The good accounts.
I can't help you without
something in return, my hummingbird.
My god... - Rest easy.
After this, you'll hear no more word
of me.
I'll be going abroad.
I have friends there. Forever,
but not before. - Shush.
Is it him? - Yes.
Okay, too bad. - Take these.
Take them. I have your word,
that's enough for me.
It's too convenient.
I don't want him to see me here.
He might search me,
find your letters.
Do I look like I'm kidding? Come on.
No.
You're taking advantage of the situation.
I'll remember this, kiddo.
Why's he come back already?
Is he suspicious?
No! Not that way.
Make up a story. Tell him...
Shut up.
You're risking as much, if not more.
Why are you waiting? Go and see him.
Get him out of here.
This way. - Yes.
Ah, again?
Same as in the dressing room.
But not for so long this time, eh?
Whatever happens, not a word,
you understand me?
Understood. I'll play dead.
Rosalie?
Where is madame? - Urr...
In the blue room, count sir.
Rosalie,
come and take my cloak.
You can dry it.
Clara... - Yes?
It's very gloomy in here,
my dear.
I was just finishing up.
You should have asked Rosalie
to help you.
You didn't get drenched?
No.
I made it back in time.
Before the storm.
And mr de la noue?
De la noue did as well.
Oh... he's a nice chap.
Very.
Let's hope it's nice tomorrow.
What...
Oh... creaky floorboards.
It's not Rosalie, in the closet?
No - who then?
Nobody, the very idea.
Gérard!
If you don't find anyone,
understand it's over between us.
You're right.
Whatever the case,
we're separated for ever.
Swear to me before god
that there's nobody there.
I swear.
Raise your hand, please,
and repeat:
"I swear before god that
there is nobody in that office.”
I swear before god
that there is nobody
in that office.
All right.
We've been invited
to open the hunt at la noue,
on 25th September.
Will you come?
Certainly.
The Marquis"s lands are full of partridge
this year.
Countess?
Very well, count.
I was saying?
About the partridge. - Oh yes.
Oh, larger beasts as well.
We'll use buckshot.
I'll have to think about my stocks
tomorrow.
If I have the time.
The wood merchant
will take up the morning.
Come in.
He was odd, that wood merchant.
Casimir?
Go and bring some bricks
from the outhouse,
and bring enough
to wall up the door of that office.
Very well, count.
Go.
Yes. He didn't seem very aware
of the prices,
the units of measurement,
of the obstructions, nor the methods,
this mr monjaret.
Rosalie, brush my hair ready for dinner.
What I'm saying is of no interest?
Yes... oh yes.
You don't mind if I smoke?
Not in the slightest.
Ow! You're hurting me,
don't pull so hard.
Keep the small locks.
Tell casimir to leave
a slit below
go and help him.
Rosalie,
you can serve my dinner
in this room.
The table is already laid out
in the dining room, sir.
Here.
What are we having for dinner?
A vegetable soup.
More wine?
Thank you, no.
Casimir...
Do you still have some plaster?
Yes, count.
Enough to cover that wall?
Yes, count.
Oh! I've woken you up.
Sorry.
I have to go to my meeting
at the king's oak.
Sleep. Sleep.
I'll have lunch when I get back.
Madame rang?
The pick, the pick!
I saw how casimir did it.
We'll make a hole
and then cover it up.
Hang on, you'll soon be free.
Answer. Can you hear me?
Yes. Yes.
You'll have time
to get to the king's oak.
Clara?
Rosalie,
casimir,
take the countess upstairs.
Put her on the bed in the pink room.
She seems to have fainted.
Clara!
Clara!
Has the countess said anything?
No, sir.
Okay.
Casimir,
make a bed for me there.
Yes, sir.
You'll suspend work for today.
I want nobody
but you two here today,
all the time while the countess
is suffering.
Come here, Rosalie.
You two want to marry?
Yes, count.
I'll endow you, Rosalie.
I'll set you up, casimir.
Substantially.
But... not a word.
Otherwise...
Yes. - That's good.
Go.
Gérard.
It's abominable.
I'm caught in a trap.
It's my fault.
No, it's not my fault.
Oh, how can I explain to you?
You believe me, don't you?
You know all this
doesn't matter to me anymore.
What are you talking about?
There's someone in the office.
No.
Yes, there is someone.
No.
You swore before god
that there was nobody.
Gérard.
Is this noise bothering you?
No, gérard.
I beg you to believe me.
I told you the truth.
You cannot let a man die.
It's been 4 days already.
3.
Tomorrow, it will be too late.
I told you the whole truth.
Oh, my god, have pity on me.
I'll use the chevrotine with buckshot.
Buckshot?
You have the perfect rifle.
I shoot with bullets. Always.
Splendid weather.
I'm sorry that you can't make the opening.
So am I.
Count sir,
a gentleman from vendome.
What does he want?
To speak to you.
Very well. I'm coming.
Excuse me, dear friend.
Of course...
Who?
A wood merchant?
I don't think so, count.
His name?
James de poulay. A Parisian.
Oh no.
I received the visit
of a certain sir...
Monjaret.
He had, according to this letter,
lodgings at yours,
at 'the red cap'.
Well, this is peculiar.
I agreed to meet him
at the king's oak.
He didn't appear.
And I haven't seen him since.
Count sir,
what should I do with the luggage?
Did he pay you his bill? - No.
Sell it.
You have the right as landlord.
Thank you, count.
Excuse me. - Not at all.
Goodbye, sir.
Rosalie, show the gentleman out,
please.
In the end, the other day,
nothing happened.
Of course.
Everything worked out.
But you had me worried.
I can admit it, now.
While we're alone...
I wanted to return to you
these that you gave me.
Keep them.
Burn them.
Count on me, madame.
Not too bored?
Absolutely not.
We're going?
Goodbye, madame.
And recover quickly,
so that I might soon hear:
'When you see the swallows'.
Dear friend,
I will follow on.
Would you like me to stay?
No.
Go.
Will you be late back?
I don't think so.
Thank you.
Oh... gérard.
He still loves me.
Madame should wait longer.
Quick, my dressing gown.
I'm getting up.
Madame is being unreasonable.
I'm getting better, Rosalie.
What a beautiful sun.
It was that same day
that two servants of the Marquis
brought the body back.
They put it there.
His dog tanbelle had been killed
by the same blast of buckshot.
We never found out how.
The Marquis said...
An accident, my poor friend.
Stupid.
My greatest wish,
you know what it was.
It was yours too.
To die together.
And live again together.
My single love.
I'll never see you again.
Yes.
Soon.
We'll meet again.
Elsewhere.
There where the real sun
illuminates other heavens.
If you leave your remains in the ground
that which you dreamed
will appear to you.
Gérard!
I'll wait for you.
How long you've been in coming.
literal: A single love
The director is expecting me.
The director is in conference, sir.
I'll wait.
Madame.
Dear sir.
Madame...
Here is your great-aunt,
valued today at 60,000f
by an expert.
The opera, in accepting
Clara biondi's legacy,
has insured this canvas
for 10,000f.
What was the year? - 1826.
It was 50 years ago.
Géricault was still about.
What about the ingres, sir?
The ingres...
Less.
Much less.
Here you are.
Is this Clara biondi? - Yes.
And...?
The count de clergue, her husband.
Of course!
These are two sketches by ingres,
indeed.
Where are the paintings?
At chateau de clergue.
We are going there shortly. Ah.
You will lend them to me
for the fiftieth anniversary exhibition?
Yes.
But mention
in a caption in the catalogue:
"Collection gontran de la tournelle."
Of course.
Director sir. - Goodbye.
Madame, monsieur.
Dear madame.
If you knew how successful
it's been already with the public,
my project for the fiftieth anniversary
of the death of Clara biondi.
They'll be packed in like sardines, in the
foyer de da dance, with all these mementos.
Your exhibition will launch my book.
Have you found a title, at last?
Yes. 'A single love'.
Banal, perhaps,
but rigorously accurate.
Indeed.
"It is a singular love that suddenly
delighted her worshippers",
as musset said so beautifully.
"If you want no more to dance,
if you want no more to pass
on this great sombre theatre,
do not chase after your shadow
and leave it with us."
Do you have any other mementoes,
madame? - Yes.
You will take care of them?
Insured, according to the experts.
Two slippers. - Ah...
Her little feet were inside these...
An umbrella.
A fan.
How moving...
When will your book appear?
I have a meeting about that,
at home, with my editor.
Is the editor there? - Yes, sir.
The president
of the commission of inquiry
urgently requests your financial report.
Since when is a commission
of inquiry in such a rush?
This will end in a mistrial!
We are in the Republic.
The permission to print...
You were supposed to send me this morning
the permission to print the book!
I'll ask it again in a few days.
Why?
We are ready to make great strides.
My wife has just recently
come into possession
of chateau de clergue,
near vendome,
that she has inherited from her great-aunt,
Clara biondi,
who died 50 years ago,
left to her by virtue
of a testamentary provision,
50 years later on the condition
it was on her death.
50 years later? What an odd idea.
It was a refuge of unique happiness.
It is not for us to judge
certain peculiarities.
But, proud of my method
and sure of my flair,
I hope to find there documents
for my work as a historian,
that I may be unassailable
and complete.
But not too many corrections...
My conscience will be the sole judge.
Of course.
On that, I am not
keen about your title,
'a single love'.
No, nobody. It is the only one
that will do.
That may be,
but 'a single love'...
It won't grab people.
It's too well-mannered,
it doesn't bed-hop.
The public want adventure.
Classy, but a page-Turner.
You are considering corrections,
so come up with something better, go on.
Make it a romantic life.
This will never do.
Success will be guaranteed.
There's something more important
than success:
It's the truth.
It's not commercial...
But it's the truth!
Petit, I have for
the science of accuracy
a taste that my training
as a polytechnician confirmed.
An amateur historian, I could
give a lesson in objectivity
to professional historians.
What, again?
The gentleman insists. - No.
He's come on behalf
of Mr. de baquére.
Ah? Show him in.
I'll take my leave.
I'll see you on my return.
Meaning?
5 days, at most. - Very well.
But don't you...
Oh, but I'm not worried.
Sir...?
Sir, it's Mr. de baquere,
at the inspection of finances...
Yes. What's bothering him?
Some letters.
What letters? 2 letters which...
Excuse me. Godéne fils,
antiquarian.
112, rue de chateaudun.
May interest you, according
to mr de baquére, who's read them.
You are a relative of the famous
dancer Clara biondi, apparently.
Grand-nephew by my wife.
I hope...
Well, these two letters,
in perfect condition,
are addressed to Clara biondi,
24, rue vignon.
That was indeed her address.
The postmarks are illegible.
Ah, these are two letters
from the king of Sweden.
I mention them in my book.
Thank you, sir.
The king of Sweden? No, sir. No.
See the coat of arms on the postmark.
A spurred chicken.
Indeed, a chicken.
A chicken.
Well then, from who?
From a certain James, a foreigner.
Undoubtedly her lover at that time.
What?
Must have been an english officer.
With that forename.
From the army of occupation in 1815.
Sir, I...
Let's see. - Gladly.
The first is a short note where this James,
in desperation, asks her for 50 Louis.
A gambling debt, no doubt.
A forgery. It's a forgery.
And I can prove it by the date:
"18th march 1815."
On 18th march 1815, sir,
Clara biondi was dancing in Vienna,
where she met the count de clergue,
collaborator
of the prince de talleyrand.
Gérard de clergue, her single love.
Which one?
She hasn't made her entrance yet.
We were too early.
Here she is.
What a face.
Yes.
Later, we'll go and see her
behind the scenes,
if you like.
Yes.
Excellency.
Look.
"Escaped from the island of elba"?
Impossible.
With him, anything is possible.
Your arm, clergue.
I should have held fast
and had this Bonaparte deported
to one of the islands of the azores,
500 leagues from any land.
What to do now?
Catch him and hang him.
Excuse me.
Tomorrow, clergue,
you leave for Paris.
The place... - Mind out.
Don't barge in on
the prince de talleyrand like this.
Make yourself known.
But to who?
There's nobody about.
Vienna is in turmoil.
No, not there.
Allow me.
Oh, see here...
I'm leaving Vienna in an hour.
For your final instructions,
where can I find you?
In bed.
Who let you in? Get out.
Come on. - But...
Come in.
Clergue?
Clergue? Do you hear me, clergue?
Clergue?
You'll have to excuse me, prince.
An important visit
has just been announced.
Who? Who?
Highness.
You're overstating it. - Bishop.
No.
Prince?
It doesn't matter.
But... what can I say?
We do not have the honour.
To know of you.
You, no, sir. Miss, yes.
Splendid.
I'm her father, excellency.
I am the father
of the angel of dance.
I have two daughters:
Giulietta and Clara.
Giulietta, the oldest,
she hasn't the ballon.
Clara, she has the ballon.
And it is I who has made her
the most beautiful ballerina
in all Europe.
Holiness, Grant me the grace
that I ask of you.
Sorry?
But get yourself to your feet, sir.
On the count of three...
Uno, due, tre.
Knees pointing out.
What concerns you, miss? Well...
My engagement in Vienna is over.
I must be in Paris for 26th April
and it's now 18th march.
The frontiers will be closed because...
Bonaparte! - Daddy...
Yes, yes, yes...
We thought to have the boldness
to solicit from the prince
to obtain a...
A passport, a visa...
A safe-conduct.
You will be in Paris
before 26th April.
Thank you.
Thank you. - Not you, sir.
Why?
I can offer only one place
in my carriage.
Me separated from her?
Clara never travels alone.
She is not of age.
I'm her father, and I say: Never.
I'm sorry.
Oh, daddy...
My contract...
My future...
Never.
Nougat? It's delicious.
The squares are nougat.
Here, one of the liqueurs.
Try it. - Thank you.
And you? - Isn't it just?
One thing intrigues me.
What's that?
Since Vienna, there's a question
I've been dying to ask you.
What is this "ballon"?
I seem ridiculous to you? Oh...
Your sister giulietta doesn't have
the ballon, but you have.
What is the ballon?
Here, look.
This is the ballon. - I see.
This...
Is the "tacté".
And this...
Is the "grand jeté".
Delightful.
Where are we?
10 leagues from Paris.
I was asleep a long time.
And on 26th April,
she danced at the opéra, so...
I misread the date:
It's "18th may", and not "18th march".
That explains everything.
It says "march". - "May."
It's "march".
I'll allow this, but the other letter
corroborates what I say.
It's also from this James.
Analysis of the handwriting reveals:
The a open below:
A rampant egoism.
The c at a right angle:
An aptitude for business.
Oversized capital letters:
A desire to make an effect.
A pretty lamentable sort,
in short.
In this letter,
he asks her for 100 Louis.
Why do you seem determined to paint
my wife's great-aunt
as a trollop?
Sophie?
I don't understand
why you are so insistent.
I thought these letters
would interest you.
They're forgeries!
If they don't interest you,
they'll interest others.
Clara biondi is back in fashion.
It's been an honour, sir.
Show me that. What's the point?
I want to see just how far the infamy
could go of a rival, a thwarted suitor.
Show me.
Did you call me?
Yes, yes. You're not intruding.
Unbelievable!
Listen to this garbage about aunt Clara.
What?
"I'm not consoled,
my beloved hummingbird"...
"My hummingbird"... - But...
"By the way you treated me yesterday.
"I arrived with a heart full of you
and arms full of roses..."
Wonderful!
Little guita is so charmingl...
Clara biondi is a great artist!
16 curtain calls, my dear Clara.
It's fantastic.
Guita told me.
Yes, of course.
You are the greatest,
and also the bravest.
You have lost your father,
you are in grief,
but you never danced better.
But I admire you, dear.
I can't believe they were against us.
You are the greatest.
And what's more, the best paid.
Isn't she, director sir?
La révolte au sérail, go in.
Oh, that'll be for me.
I'll leave you.
You are the greatest.
Bravo once again, my dear Clara.
Thank you, director sir.
She's touched.
She didn't say a word.
She'll never recover from this.
Eh, honey?
I hope.
He's her lover.
He's costing her a packet.
Now, she's between his paws.
I'm not receiving anyone.
Nobody?
Yes. I'm waiting for the count de clergue.
Ah... he's a man. - Yes.
It's him.
Go and open it.
What are you doing here?
I don't want to see you
in my dressing room. - Clara...
Didn't you understand? Leave me alone.
Since your return from Austria,
I've been trying in vain to see you.
You've been hiding yourself.
From Vienna, I didn't receive
the smallest note.
I wrote to you,
18th may, rue vignon.
No answer.
Didn't I send you what you asked?
Without an accompanying word.
Ah, how you've changed.
You haven't.
No, Clara.
Clara...
I love you like crazy.
You bore me.
Your nerves are all agitated.
No, grief-stricken.
I know,
my poor little bird of passage,
I heard from the newspapers about
your father's death. It's natural
that I should bring you my sympathies.
Not in my dressing room.
Well, well... one might say
that you are ashamed of me.
Amélie, go and see. - Yes, miss.
Oh, right...
It's him that you're waiting for.
You should go.
You're awaiting your diplomat.
You've had enough of me.
I understand.
It took you long enough.
Ingrate.
Where would you be without me?
A perfectly proper girl.
My memories of you
leave a bad taste.
Too late. - Put my bag down.
You love me.
No. - No?
Luckily, I have your letters.
How much do you want?
You shouldn't speak to me in that tone.
Here you are alone in life.
You reject me,
instead of leaning on me
who launched you
with my echoes of hullaballoo,
who promoted you
in his sparkling tam-tam column.
You prefer to give yourself
to a serious protector.
A rich man, not bad for his age,
it makes sense,
but who sees in you
nothing more than a mistress.
Get out. - No.
You'll live to regret this.
You're endangering your career,
girlie.
Follow my advice
or guita will outshine you.
She has fire, petulance,
passion, character.
She's the coming thing, la guita.
You, you're chaste, fragile, cold.
You are the glacier of dance.
A mistake!
It's crucial, during and after your steps,
that all your spectators want
to sleep with you.
You are despicable.
Putting on grand airs...
You think you're a countess already?
You want me to help you?
I told you to get out.
You think I'm scared of him?
Yes.
Less than you are at this moment.
Coward. - Me?
Okay, show him in.
You can introduce me.
I have no fear of seeing him.
We can have a nice chat.
I will not allow this.
I am the first, after all.
If he acts all high and mighty, "slap
slap” and all that follows. Yes indeed!
The count
is coming up the dressing room stairs.
Luckily, I'm a good boy.
I don't want to get you into trouble.
Go on, hide me.
No. What will happen, will happen.
It'll be terrible.
So much the better.
Clara...
You love him, it'll be your fault
if you lose him. Aren't I right?
Miss...
I was waiting for you.
Excuse me for the late hour...
Here. - Oh, again?
The pharmacies are closed.
I had to...
Pharmacies? - It's a remedy.
A syrup of iodinated bromide.
I'm not sick.
And you'll sleep like a baby.
Amélie?
A spoon and a glass of water,
please.
Sit down and be sensible.
The count is right.
Yes. You have just been through
a cruel ordeal.
You will have incurred extra fatigue
tonight when dancing...
By the way, divinely,
because the king was in the room.
It was for you that I danced.
Open your mouth...
There.
It's not bad.
A drop of water...
And there you go.
My friend...
I have need of you.
Not more than I.
Clara,
I am certain of my feelings,
and if I'm not mistaken about yours,
I ask you to be my wife.
Oh, that's impossible.
Yes, I know.
Ah? - There's your career.
I'm not asking you to give it up.
No.
No?
Well, yes, but not only that.
Gérard, I must tell you...
No, don't say anything.
I trust you completely.
Whatever you decide will be for the best.
Come with me.
Just a moment, will you?
I am happy, here, next to you.
Look at me.
What is it?
Some sleepiness.
The syrup is taking effect.
Amélie? - Already?
If I leave it any later,
you'll have to carry me.
Very well, let's go.
Goodbye, amélie. - Count sir.
Amélie, don't forget to put away
my costume.
No danger of that, miss.
Coming, coming.
It was lucky
that she locked me away.
But it would have cost her nothing
to have waited.
You tell Clara this.
Hey...
You've lost a glove.
Oh, all that has the stink
of some cheap soap-opera.
It's this British name,
that pretentious touch.
He was nothing but a fop
with pretensions to journalism
in the pay
of that acrobat guita,
who got what she wanted,
since she forced Clara
to leave the opera at the peak of her fame.
Sophie, what are you saying?
Have you read the manuscript
of 'a single love', yes or no?
On page 37,
I prove that Clara biondi
left the opéra of her own free will.
This is reflected
in the revenue register.
On July 281815,
with 3824f rental,
a huge fee for the time,
Clara biondi, advertised in
'le génie des airs', did not appear.
They had to reimburse the tickets.
The uniformed men, and women,
smashed up their seats,
that night.
I cite my references in the annex.
No Clara biondi.
They alerted the police,
they even searched the morgue.
Nobody. - But... where was she?
Where? With clergue, sir.
At clergue's chateau,
married the day before
in the little church, since destroyed.
Married to gérard de clergue.
Forgive me if I quote my text:
"They had decided to live
apart from the world,
renouncing, her, her dancing,
him, his career,
and putting each other above everything."
Page 167 etc.
This is the truth, no offense
to your false witnesses.
How much were your two letters?
To what end?
I have a memory...
I wouldn't say to defend,
but to preserve. How much?
90f, catalogue price.
For the two.
It's expensive for filth.
I don't have the money...
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, we'll be in vendome.
Wait there. - Very good, sir.
Master goze.
Mr. gontran de la "tourelle"?
De la tournelle.
Madame. Master goze is waiting for you.
This way, please.
Master goze will be with you shortly.
Gontran, my bustle. - Yes, dear.
Madame, sir. - Master.
My deepest respects, madame.
You had a pleasant journey?
250 kilometres in 11 hours.
Hell of a train.
Steam. Progress, my dear master.
A great honour,
Mr. de la tournelle.
Please have a seat.
At last the gates of clergue
will open before us.
Oh...
Hardly. - Why?
Because of the rust.
Georges.
Georges...
My little man.
Do you have children?
Alas no, madame.
I thought so.
No. Mrs goze has unfortunately
been stricken with sterility...
Shortly after our marriage, what's more.
As a consequence of the mumps'
epidemic that ravaged vendome
and of which
she was one of the first victims.
Georges, come and clear away
my towel and my bowl.
Excuse me.
I am alone in the house.
Mrs goze is at the meeting
of the children of Mary with the maid,
like every 10th
and 20th of the month.
It's unfortunate timing.
One moment.
It's my father.
He received the latest good wishes
from the countess.
Oh, but he still has all his marbles.
All one has to do is say the name
of the countess in front of him for...
Come and see.
Dad, this gentleman and lady
are the clergue heirs.
The countess of clergue.
Ah... the countess.
She was beautiful, old chap.
She called me one evening, late.
I was about to go to bed.
It was a Monday...
The countess has been given the last rites.
She won't survive the night.
At 29, she sees herself dying.
However, she is joyful.
Her optimism has never been greater.
Madame.
Don't talk.
She is not to hear
the slightest sound.
What you might say
could be the end for her.
Please sit down.
I'm entrusting to you...
My will.
At last, I will live again.
Come closer,
I must tell you...
Closer.
Hurry.
I must...
Absolutely...
As long as I live,
I'll hear her voice.
"I must tell you..."
What?
It had to have been important,
but what was it?
Nobody will ever know.
There, he exaggerates a little.
I'm afraid so.
The will of the countess created
some noise.
Leaving a chateau closed
for 50 years...
They made it, in large amounts,
at the vigil.
Telling stories of phantoms...
The loves of the count and countess
became the stuff of legend,
and their tomb always has flowers.
Gérard and Clara are names often given
to boys and girls around here.
Most touching.
As simply executor of the will,
I respected the wishes
of the deceased.
We have only declared
the doors and windows
to assess the taxes
which I have continued to pay
annually to this day.
No childcare expenses,
no maintenance costs.
So you are now owners of the land,
of the building
including furniture, except...
One moment.
Of which exception is made
concerning a crucifix
in ivory saying jansénist,
given by the countess while living
to Rosalie...
Rosalie, you know.
Listen.
To Rosalie, the widow bouchard,
and a painting entitled 'jéricho'
portraying the countess
with wings on her back
and bequeathed by her
to the grand opéra in Paris.
Plus various linen and rags,
rings and items of no value
to the convent of visitation nuns
of vendome,
where she retired after
the death of the count.
Well...
It only remains for us
to visit the place.
Please, one moment,
I'll arrange some transportation.
No need, I retained my cab.
Oh, all the better.
This way,
my coachman can watch over my father.
I've had a few worries.
And Rosalie, how is she?
Always fighting fit.
She enjoys the good health
of a soul at peace.
We'll pass by there.
I gave her a warning.
Xavier, they're here.
Mum, I again saw the black cat
on the wall of the estate.
It's just an animal.
No, it's him who has returned.
Shut up, you great ninny.
He's returned to clergue.
Shut up.
Rosalie, here are the heirs to the estate.
But we have met once before.
Do you recognise me, Rosalie?
Yes.
You haven't changed, Rosalie.
78 years old.
Don't tire yourself, sit down.
I'm all right.
Xavier?
The cassis.
Gentlemen, ladies.
Good morning.
Give me that.
Is this your son? - Yes.
Well, Xavier,
is all well with you?
Yes. And you?
We were drafted in the same year.
1847.
You bought a replacement
but I...
I served in Algeria.
I saw abd El-kader. Awful.
I was in the zouaves.
You should have seen the women.
Don't talk so much.
Xavier?
Go and open the gate.
The big one?
Impossible. A Rose Ivy
is twisted in the bars.
Well, the workman's. - Okay.
And clear the pathways.
It comes up to here...
I'll use my largest. - Yes.
Nice piece.
It's mine. I don't want to sell it.
No question of that.
It's a keepsake, you see.
A keepsake.
Your health.
Will you come with us, Rosalie?
Where?
To the estate.
You know the place.
You could guide us.
No.
Why?
My legs wouldn't stand it.
You said: "I'm all right."
It's too far.
We're going by carriage.
No. - Oh, come on, come on...
Don't be difficult, Rosalie.
I'm asking you this favour.
I've taken good care of your affairs,
and for no charge.
I made some nice investments for you,
purchased annuities.
I don't like 3%.
Okay. But you also have
the Russian loan. It's famous.
Leave me in peace
the count set you up for life,
Rosalie.
He favoured your husband.
And later?
You know that the heirs
may revoke donations
because of ingratitude.
Since when? Well, it's the law.
You have shown your ingratitude and
you'll be hearing from us. Farewell.
After you, please.
I'm coming.
Just in time.
I'm scared of vipers.
There won't be any.
Vipers require dry surroundings.
What vegetation.
Lady, it's been 50 years!
How poetic it is!
The chateau of sleeping beauty!
Just what I was going to say.
Me too.
And there, what was that?
There? It was for the dogs.
Tanbelle's doghouse...
Her favourite.
Here, here, here.
Come here, come here.
Darling...
Rosalie!
Countess?
Serve breakfast outside.
Very well, madame.
Are you hungry?
Me? All the time. I love you.
Ah, it's sultan. - Yes.
I'm getting better at jumping, aren't I?
Astonishingly.
You're mad at me for last night?
Leave me alone.
We will be getting married.
I'm in a hurry.
Old fool!
No, thank you.
More coffee than milk.
Like in Vienna. You remember
Vienna, Saint-Petersburg,
London, Stockholm, Milan...
Your success, your triumphs...
Do you still think of it? - No.
It's not a reproach.
I only wonder sometimes
if you haven't given up too much,
by sacrificing your previous life.
My previous life?
I've thrown it in the fire.
Here, with you,
I have eternal happiness.
Happiness?
What is this was just the art
of consolation?
Here, read this.
No.
Happiness,
it's wanting what we have.
Darling...
Watch out, the gardiner.
"They all wound,
"the last kills."
What "they"? - The hours.
Oh no. No, that's not true.
For us, that's not true.
Oh time, pause your flight
and you, auspicious hours
suspend your course
let us savor the delights
of the most beautiful of our days.
You already know
those fine words by heart?
Yes. I've finished the small volume
that just came out,
the one you leant me.
Les premieres
meditations poétiques?
Les premieres meditations
poétiques, who was it by?
The author did not give his name,
but he's a man
there'll be talk about.
Concealer! You're the author!
Me?
No. I recognise all your ideas.
I thought I was hearing you.
But...
Admit it.
There.
Oh... the prince's fine service...
They had a dozen the same.
It's a museum piece.
Okay,
but the whole place needs re-roofing.
Ask under right of inventory.
No, out of the question.
Dear, perhaps it was once lovely,
but today, it's uninhabitable.
At least 10,000f of work.
But we'll do it,
we'll restore it,
we'll maintain it brilliantly.
I have requested the state council
to elevate the name.
I may soon be titled
gontran de clergue.
We will live here in the summer.
We'll set up a museum.
Ah, here's the salon.
You want to take a look?
But, Rosalie,
the piano's not in its place.
Neither is this couch.
No. - Ah...
How do you know?
I have the plan of the salon
drawn by the count.
I have moreover reproduced it
in my book, page 302,
along with the one of the blue room.
What's the matter? - Nothing.
Oh, what silk.
So lush!
We must find some the same today.
Curtains for the lamp.
And consider this parquet, madame.
A marvel.
Oak and pear tree.
You should have seen it waxed.
The hearth is full of ashes.
Memento quia pulvis es.
Et in pulverem reverteris.
Eh? No.
There was always a fire,
as early as September.
Even once,
in August...
Well, they told me to make one.
They were newlyweds.
They'd come from Paris.
They had refurbished the chateau...
And these are...
Two letters from the king of Sweden.
Into the fire.
"My recollections on immigration.”
Oh no, that's historical.
What's the point?
Historians will have, I trust,
the same bad faith
as their predecessors.
My three-year contract
at the opéra.
And this...
A ticket from the Duke of reichstadt.
Oh, keep it. - No.
No. I want to burn all my mementos,
even the most innocent,
so that I am yours entirely.
These letters
wanted to separate us.
They are not all signed.
Show me. - No.
It's not enough for some people
to be happy,
they also require that others are not.
Watch as the fire gives that muck
a deserved fate.
Gérard... - What, darling?
Gérard, I...
There's something I still haven't told you.
I wasn't able to.
I tried, but...
But tonight, I must tell you.
We have said all there is to be said.
No.
Yes...
At least...
What really matters.
Don't torment yourself.
We both have a past.
We had a past.
But it is dead, finished, burnt.
And what must never happen,
never...
Is that it comes between us.
Never.
What's that?
What happened, friend?
A cat. A cat.
The black cat that jumped on me.
Get away... you're drunk, Xavier.
No, georges.
He twisted against my legs.
Stop your fooling.
I don't have the key to this room.
Okay...
But... Rosalie, there, it's...
The blue room.
Do you want to sit down? - No.
The blue room...
Page 142, 143 etc.
It's not without emotion...
It's locked.
There's nothing to be done
but to force it open.
Xavier? Xavier?
Xavier, the door.
I tried. It wont' budge.
Ah! Ah, here we go.
When I get involved...
Xavier, come on.
But... but where are you going?
Gontran!
Big-hearted servant...
Come on. - No.
You're not going to start up again,
Rosalie.
Oh no. My dear Rosalie,
I understand how you feel.
The emotion does you honour.
Myself, I... go on, come.
Ah... here we have it.
4 chairs covered in siamese,
a varnished double bed from China
and its mattress.
The bedding and drapes
in Camelot silk
of blue and white.
A dressing table of marquetry wood.
Items of furniture.
2 silver torches.
But, sorry,
those are the two ingres.
What are you calling a "zingre"?
Huh?
Oh, the two ingres.
The painter, ingres.
Oh! What was I thinking,
for god's sake.
What's this?
Where, dear? - There.
But...
They've blocked a door.
Why?
I've always seen it this way.
It must have been from centuries ago.
Undoubtedly.
It must be about
some treasure of clergue.
Oh! See there!
See there!
There it is!
Well,
have I been drinking, georges?
Mum... - Kill him.
Why?
Come on, there's nothing to fear.
This is strange. Mysterious...
A fairy tale.
Areal fairy tale.
Master goze,
you were speaking of treasure.
Yes. Enguerrand de clergue,
after the crusades...
This is unexpected.
I want to get to the bottom of this.
Xavier, break down that wall.
Unexpected.
I don't have the tools.
Here's a pickaxe.
What's that tool doing here?
Well, get on with it. To work.
What are you waiting for?
It's solid. I can't do it.
You should give it a try.
Don't touch that.
Well, this is embarrassing.
Very well.
Mr goze, you will obtain
a worker from vendome.
Do as you were told.
Mind out.
That will do, my friend.
That will do.
An olive-green Amazon.
Or what's left of it.
I don't see any armour.
A pretty felt
decorated with an ostrich feather,
no doubt to go with the Amazon.
I'm searching in vain for the beginning
of a subterranean tunnel.
What dust.
What is it? The treasure?
Something from the middle ages.
But...
Who's this?
A turk, perhaps.
Hey, it was the crusades.
A turk? In houndstooth trousers?
I'd rather like some cordial,
I'll admit.
Sophie?
Sophie...
It's nothing, a funny turn.
She's recovering.
Aren't you, Rosalie?
There's a skeleton
behind the wall.
What?
See.
Le cachet des deux lettres.
But... - Shush.
What about you?
You knew about this, didn't you?
You didn't want to come.
It was remorse that crippled your legs.
A little late for that.
A crime was committed here,
when you were in service?
There's a statue of limitations.
We are a law unto ourselves.
Ah... here's the confession.
They are accomplices. - Me goze,
you heard.
They have the front...
One moment.
You're wrong, both of you.
There is not a statue of limitations
for all accomplices.
Therefore, in your case,
article 59 of the penal code,
reinforced by article 635
of the code of criminal procedure,
increased by the fualdés' affair
and the bandits of drome,
which established the case law,
you will be condemned to forced labour
in perpetuity. - No!
I've done nothing. I wasn't born,
in 1825. It wasn't me.
In 1825?
So casimir was involved in this?
It'll be the public square,
I'm afraid.
The branding iron and the stigma.
One moment.
Confess.
If I tell you,
you won't act against me,
or Xavier?
We're listening.
We can keep the money?
Quickly and totally.
That day, the Marquis of sosthéne
had dinner at the chateau.
Who?
A neighbour from the region.
Ah, sosthéne de la noue?
Page 307.
That's it.
I was serving coffee in the salon.
The Marquis was there.
The count, there.
The countess was singing a love song
to them...
♪ When you see the swallows ♪
♪ Gathering on the eaves ♪
♪ To flee this cruel season ♪
♪ That makes fall the leaves ♪
♪ Run Tome ♪
♪ On bird's wings ♪
♪ To see me one last time ♪
♪ Don't leave like them ♪
♪ I will die far from you ♪
Bravo, bravo, bravo.
Absolutely delightful.
Light, heartbreaking.
Let's go for a ride.
We can accompany our friend home.
Another time.
I'm expecting someone.
Who? - A wood merchant.
From the locality? I know them all.
A Mr. monjaret.
He wrote to me from vendome.
They brought me his letter from the hotel.
What time? - This morning.
He asked me for a business meeting.
It seems important. Read.
Gérard?
Yes?
You're enlarging the stables?
The horses
are too cramped, they bite each other.
Sultan was attacked on the lower jaw.
Therefore I've decided to extend the stalls
and add an extra one.
An old project,
still uncompleted.
It's for the english trotter
that I'm giving to Clara.
Don't receive him.
Oh yes. The appointment's at 4pm.
I promise, it won't take long.
Dare I ask you to sing?
Oh yes...
Gladly.
♪ If the unhappiness of love holds
in sorrow ♪
♪ Your heart full of dark worries ♪
Mr monjaret. - Show him in.
Carry on, carry on. Oh yes, yes.
He doesn't matter,
this gentleman.
♪ Take the shady path that leads ♪
♪ To the green valleys ♪
♪ That we see here ♪
Mr. monjaret?
Himself, count sir.
This way.
I'm done for. - What?
The man talking to gérard...
Yes?
Behind the door. - Mr. monjaret.
No.
That man was my lover
and lived off me.
I loathe him, but he has me.
You?
Yes, me. Me who wanted everything
to be so pure, so beautiful.
Gérard doesn't know.
Gérard doesn't know anything.
He's going to know it all.
I have to...
Don't do anything crazy.
How can I look him in the face
after this?
He will be unable to admit
that I freed myself
of that wretch.
But gérard...
Gérard loves you.
He'll understand.
No, he never will.
He'll doubt me.
It'll all be over,
it's his happiness.
My whole life is at stake,
behind that door. Save me.
How should I...
Take these letters.
He wrote to me. I didn't answer,
not yesterday nor the day before.
So he's come under a false name.
He has the affrontery.
The scoundrel. If I ever...
Listen.
It's a deal you're offering me.
Too bad. - Be careful. Don't.
No, sir.
By an ordinance of waters
and forests, when we cut down a copice
we must leave the
most beautiful parts.
Of course. Then, tomorrow morning,
at the king's oak.
Please be punctual. - 8am.
Mr. monjaret.
My wife.
My respects, madame.
Mr. de la noue. An honour, sir.
How did you get here?
Through the forest.
I adore the walk.
You had the wrong idea.
I'm afraid.
You see, my dear,
it didn't take long.
What did he want?
To buy some cuttings,
at an advantageous price.
My dear friends,
I'll take my leave. - Already?
It's already 5pm.
We'll come with you.
Put on your Amazon.
It's getting late.
Let's go.
Earlier, you... I've given
the order to saddle the horses.
I've a few things that need sorting out
with Rosalie.
Your hand is cold.
Are you all right?
You just have to look at her...
Madame, I shall treasure the memory
of your singing.
You didn't notice anything?
No. What do you mean?
Since the day before yesterday.
She seems upset,
but what reason could she have?
I found her nervous,
too cheerful,
occasionally downcast and distant,
her mood swinging.
Earlier, as you saw,
she was very keen to come horseback riding.
I offer her, she refused.
No reason.
Perhaps... - What?
A baby? - Ah?
Oh no...
Oh yes.
I hadn't thought of that.
That would be splendid.
If it is the case, I'll be delighted,
but sorry personally.
Why?
You wouldn't be here
for the opening of the hunt,
on 25th September, in 20 days.
It's going to rain.
It won't amount to much.
Pardon, I know the area better,
ah yes, a storm is brewing.
My dove. - Don't.
What's up with you? Not before the wedding.
I'm angry. - Oh?
I've never seen him before,
this Mr. monjaret.
Here he comes asking for the countess,
I announce him, he doesn't wait,
he goes in and
slams the door in my face.
I don't believe you. - I swear.
What did you say? - Nothing.
What are you doing here?
I had to see you again.
After 8 years?
To return your letters.
I know,
I could have destroyed them.
They meant too much.
They're here.
How much do you want? - Oh...
Right away...
I know it looks bad, but...
Quickly, we won't be alone for long.
Yes, yes we will.
I saw them leave on horseback.
Nobody saddles a horse
for just 5 minutes.
We have time.
Are you out of your mind? - Why?
I love my husband. He's my entire life,
I am happy.
You could fracture everything.
If he sees you, if he learns...
Obviously,
he wouldn't be pleased.
Let's get this over with.
You see, I'm not fighting anymore,
I'll give in.
How much do you want
so I can get on with my life?
But this must be the last time.
10,000?
10,000... and the sacrifice
I'm making in parting with these?
20,0007?
Very well, I don't want
to seem greedy.
Are they all there?
Your letters? Yes.
And the keepsakes,
all that I have of yours...
Hand them over. I'll send you
a bill of exchange. Same address?
No. I live on the left bank,
rue monsieur-le-prince, 67.
I'll remember, go now.
But it's that...
What?
Give-and-take.
You don't trust me? - Yes.
Yes.
Only...
You don't want to give me an advance?
A small down payment.
You understand,
the point at which I'm at...
In 1815, during the occupation,
I made a decent living
in the newspapers.
But since the peace,
I am a little embarrassed.
If I didn't have to...
Hurry.
Thank you.
I never appeal in vain
to your kind heart.
So don't forget the address,
by the end of the month.
No mistakes. I'm counting on you.
Well, that's that.
But...
Hand them over.
Oh no.
The good accounts.
I can't help you without
something in return, my hummingbird.
My god... - Rest easy.
After this, you'll hear no more word
of me.
I'll be going abroad.
I have friends there. Forever,
but not before. - Shush.
Is it him? - Yes.
Okay, too bad. - Take these.
Take them. I have your word,
that's enough for me.
It's too convenient.
I don't want him to see me here.
He might search me,
find your letters.
Do I look like I'm kidding? Come on.
No.
You're taking advantage of the situation.
I'll remember this, kiddo.
Why's he come back already?
Is he suspicious?
No! Not that way.
Make up a story. Tell him...
Shut up.
You're risking as much, if not more.
Why are you waiting? Go and see him.
Get him out of here.
This way. - Yes.
Ah, again?
Same as in the dressing room.
But not for so long this time, eh?
Whatever happens, not a word,
you understand me?
Understood. I'll play dead.
Rosalie?
Where is madame? - Urr...
In the blue room, count sir.
Rosalie,
come and take my cloak.
You can dry it.
Clara... - Yes?
It's very gloomy in here,
my dear.
I was just finishing up.
You should have asked Rosalie
to help you.
You didn't get drenched?
No.
I made it back in time.
Before the storm.
And mr de la noue?
De la noue did as well.
Oh... he's a nice chap.
Very.
Let's hope it's nice tomorrow.
What...
Oh... creaky floorboards.
It's not Rosalie, in the closet?
No - who then?
Nobody, the very idea.
Gérard!
If you don't find anyone,
understand it's over between us.
You're right.
Whatever the case,
we're separated for ever.
Swear to me before god
that there's nobody there.
I swear.
Raise your hand, please,
and repeat:
"I swear before god that
there is nobody in that office.”
I swear before god
that there is nobody
in that office.
All right.
We've been invited
to open the hunt at la noue,
on 25th September.
Will you come?
Certainly.
The Marquis"s lands are full of partridge
this year.
Countess?
Very well, count.
I was saying?
About the partridge. - Oh yes.
Oh, larger beasts as well.
We'll use buckshot.
I'll have to think about my stocks
tomorrow.
If I have the time.
The wood merchant
will take up the morning.
Come in.
He was odd, that wood merchant.
Casimir?
Go and bring some bricks
from the outhouse,
and bring enough
to wall up the door of that office.
Very well, count.
Go.
Yes. He didn't seem very aware
of the prices,
the units of measurement,
of the obstructions, nor the methods,
this mr monjaret.
Rosalie, brush my hair ready for dinner.
What I'm saying is of no interest?
Yes... oh yes.
You don't mind if I smoke?
Not in the slightest.
Ow! You're hurting me,
don't pull so hard.
Keep the small locks.
Tell casimir to leave
a slit below
go and help him.
Rosalie,
you can serve my dinner
in this room.
The table is already laid out
in the dining room, sir.
Here.
What are we having for dinner?
A vegetable soup.
More wine?
Thank you, no.
Casimir...
Do you still have some plaster?
Yes, count.
Enough to cover that wall?
Yes, count.
Oh! I've woken you up.
Sorry.
I have to go to my meeting
at the king's oak.
Sleep. Sleep.
I'll have lunch when I get back.
Madame rang?
The pick, the pick!
I saw how casimir did it.
We'll make a hole
and then cover it up.
Hang on, you'll soon be free.
Answer. Can you hear me?
Yes. Yes.
You'll have time
to get to the king's oak.
Clara?
Rosalie,
casimir,
take the countess upstairs.
Put her on the bed in the pink room.
She seems to have fainted.
Clara!
Clara!
Has the countess said anything?
No, sir.
Okay.
Casimir,
make a bed for me there.
Yes, sir.
You'll suspend work for today.
I want nobody
but you two here today,
all the time while the countess
is suffering.
Come here, Rosalie.
You two want to marry?
Yes, count.
I'll endow you, Rosalie.
I'll set you up, casimir.
Substantially.
But... not a word.
Otherwise...
Yes. - That's good.
Go.
Gérard.
It's abominable.
I'm caught in a trap.
It's my fault.
No, it's not my fault.
Oh, how can I explain to you?
You believe me, don't you?
You know all this
doesn't matter to me anymore.
What are you talking about?
There's someone in the office.
No.
Yes, there is someone.
No.
You swore before god
that there was nobody.
Gérard.
Is this noise bothering you?
No, gérard.
I beg you to believe me.
I told you the truth.
You cannot let a man die.
It's been 4 days already.
3.
Tomorrow, it will be too late.
I told you the whole truth.
Oh, my god, have pity on me.
I'll use the chevrotine with buckshot.
Buckshot?
You have the perfect rifle.
I shoot with bullets. Always.
Splendid weather.
I'm sorry that you can't make the opening.
So am I.
Count sir,
a gentleman from vendome.
What does he want?
To speak to you.
Very well. I'm coming.
Excuse me, dear friend.
Of course...
Who?
A wood merchant?
I don't think so, count.
His name?
James de poulay. A Parisian.
Oh no.
I received the visit
of a certain sir...
Monjaret.
He had, according to this letter,
lodgings at yours,
at 'the red cap'.
Well, this is peculiar.
I agreed to meet him
at the king's oak.
He didn't appear.
And I haven't seen him since.
Count sir,
what should I do with the luggage?
Did he pay you his bill? - No.
Sell it.
You have the right as landlord.
Thank you, count.
Excuse me. - Not at all.
Goodbye, sir.
Rosalie, show the gentleman out,
please.
In the end, the other day,
nothing happened.
Of course.
Everything worked out.
But you had me worried.
I can admit it, now.
While we're alone...
I wanted to return to you
these that you gave me.
Keep them.
Burn them.
Count on me, madame.
Not too bored?
Absolutely not.
We're going?
Goodbye, madame.
And recover quickly,
so that I might soon hear:
'When you see the swallows'.
Dear friend,
I will follow on.
Would you like me to stay?
No.
Go.
Will you be late back?
I don't think so.
Thank you.
Oh... gérard.
He still loves me.
Madame should wait longer.
Quick, my dressing gown.
I'm getting up.
Madame is being unreasonable.
I'm getting better, Rosalie.
What a beautiful sun.
It was that same day
that two servants of the Marquis
brought the body back.
They put it there.
His dog tanbelle had been killed
by the same blast of buckshot.
We never found out how.
The Marquis said...
An accident, my poor friend.
Stupid.
My greatest wish,
you know what it was.
It was yours too.
To die together.
And live again together.
My single love.
I'll never see you again.
Yes.
Soon.
We'll meet again.
Elsewhere.
There where the real sun
illuminates other heavens.
If you leave your remains in the ground
that which you dreamed
will appear to you.
Gérard!
I'll wait for you.
How long you've been in coming.