Napoléon (2002): Season 1, Episode 3 - 1807-1812 - full transcript
Argh.
Sire. A Prussian column
has just attacked Devout.
Prussians.
What are they doing here?
Didn't I teach them a lesson at
Lena? Where is Marshall Ney?
Still no news, Sire.
- Send the guard into combat.
- Your guard, Sire?
I know it's the first
time. Carry on.
Very good, Sire.
Troops, bayonets.
Forward, march.
Cease fire. Grenadiers,
pick up arms.
Hold that fire.
Only with bayonets.
Argh.
Sire, Marshall Ney
and his regiments
have made contact with the enemy.
It always comes down to a
bit of luck in the end.
Fire.
Argh.
What's he writing?
Probably the report of the battle,
as he wants it published
in Paris' newspapers.
The Emperor takes charge
of everything around him.
Including the facts.
Is the separation as
difficult for you
as it is for me, my sweet Marie?
This sad village called Eylau
is haunted by the
dead and the wounded.
It's a victory...
with a taste of defeat.
Which is why, Marie, I take
refuge tonight thinking of you.
To let a bit of tenderness
exist in this world of
suffering and death.
This sad village called Eylau
is haunted by the
dead and wounded.
It's a victory, with
a taste of defeat.
Which is why, Marie, I take
refuge tonight thinking of you.
To let a bit of tenderness
exist in this world of
suffering and death.
See that, Caulaincourt?
The Czar of all the Russians
in all his splendour.
Dazzling.
When one is defeated, Sire,
one has the choice of
covering oneself with ashes,
or furbelows.
He has chosen furbelows.
As you must know,
Sire, I am like you.
I despise the English
more than I can say.
In that case, Sire,
we have made peace.
I've commissioned this
painting for you,
determined that you
should have a souvenir
of our discussion in the
middle of the Niemen.
When the Emperor of France
and the Czar of Russia met
to offer one another peace.
Do you really think France
has offered you peace?
I would say she has
imposed it on you.
The French have such
a gift for nuance.
It's more than a nuance, Sire.
You know very well that if you
had not accepted my conditions,
I would have blown your
Austrian and Hungarian allies
off the face of the Earth,
and laid waste to your own empire.
And such cruel terminology.
I'm a conqueror, not a lyricist.
Well, it's of no consequence.
What matters is that
we have made peace.
An honourable peace
that will last.
It will last as long as we
respect our agreements.
Everything to the East
of the Vistula is yours,
but everything to
the West is mine.
There's only one problem.
That annoying little river
runs through Poland.
And Poland can never be French.
She won't be Russian, I
can assure you of that.
No, there is only one solution.
An independent, sovereign Poland.
A Polish Poland, back to
back with holy Russia?
Yes.
- They'd be a constant threat.
- No. Poland stays as she is.
- But she isn't anything.
- Exactly.
I'll make you an offer:
Drop your idea of
resurrecting Poland,
and I shall persuade the English
to stop setting
Europe against you.
Interesting.
I hate the way the English
preach to the whole world.
Of there's one nation that has a
right to preach, it is France.
The Revolution was a great step
toward the freedom of mankind.
Including freedom for
Russia's 10 million serfs?
Sire, you can't reform everything.
Perhaps.
Not all at once.
I waited for 3 days and 3 nights.
And then it was over.
Nothing could be done?
What can be done for diphtheria?
My sweet little boy died
in a horrible tormented fear.
I loved your son, Hortense.
I loved him as much as
if it had been my own.
Your dear Charles
Napoleon was of my blood,
and he would have
succeeded me if...
It is not your heir who died.
It is my child.
You say you loved him.
So forget your reign for a
moment, and weep with me.
Weep? Him?
He has wallowed in
death for so long
that it stirs no feelings at all.
He knew the stench of corpses
before he even smelt a woman.
You're mean.
You're stupid, and...
Stop it, stop. Both of you.
I forbid you to use my dead
child to destroy each other.
She's right.
She's right, but what
you said was unfair.
You have no idea what
that war was like.
And the hell I've returned from.
Hell?
With a bit of paradise, too.
Everyone says that
your Polish wife,
yes, that's what
they call her here,
has the face of an angel.
Countess Walewska, if you
are referring to her,
is in no way my wife.
But there is nothing to
prevent it, is there?
No.
Of you had the courage to
tell me what you want,
what sort of sacrifice
you expect from me.
Divorce?
Renouncement?
My suicide?
Moi, monsieur?
You told my footman the
Emperor sent you to see my...
My son, yes.
Sire.
It's you, finally.
May I?
Yes, of course.
I've never held such a
small child in my arms.
Hortense would never
Let me carry her son.
She was afraid I would drop him.
This one is yours.
You can hold him as
much as you want.
He's...
He's quite handsome, isn't he?
Of course he's handsome.
Oh.
People don't dare say he
looks like you, but...
What people?
I hope you don't show
him to everyone.
It is our secret.
I'll take him, Sire.
It's not comfortable for you.
Also, he's not yet housebroken,
and I wouldn't want...
No, no.
I'll keep him with me for a bit.
He must get used to you.
Now that you're back,
you'll be able to come
visit us as often as...
No, this is our last
meeting, Eleanore.
But why? What have I done?
You have only been good for me.
You cannot imagine how happy I was
to hear that you had
borne me a child.
Don't worry,
you will not want for anything.
I will look after both of you.
But from a distance.
From a distance?
Because you are the Emperor,
and he is your bastard?
No. Don't call him that.
He is my son.
For me, he's my son. So take him.
And forgive me.
Will you miss him, at least?
Pick up the bodies.
Argh.
- Look at this one.
- Isn't that pretty?
Yes.
Oh, look.
Ah, it smells so good.
Look at those.
Ah. Ah.
What? What happened.
Did you hurt yourself?
I have a confession to make.
Yes?
I slipped on purpose,
to see if you would
take me in your arms
Like you did once upon a time.
It's good to be in your arms.
Thank you for this
little adventure.
Don't rejoice too quickly.
Those two Spanish fools
I'm forcing you to dine
with tonight are really...
I'm prepared for the worst.
It seems that the King is
a spineless jellyfish,
and the son a disgusting pig.
- A pig and jellyfish.
- What a menu.
Since you're so nice,
I'm going to tell you
some wonderful news.
No, let me guess.
Your dressmaker has run
out of ribbons and silk,
and you're going to make
do with the 6,000 dresses
you already own.
No, it's serious.
It concerns your succession.
Napoleon, you're going
to have an heir.
You're pregnant?
No, not me. Hortense.
Hortense is pregnant again.
And if it's going to be a boy,
they're going to call
him Louis-Napoleon.
Doesn't it sound wonderful?
Louis-Napoleon, Emperor
of the French.
Possibly Emperor.
Emperor as a last resort.
Emperor if I have no
direct descendants.
- Direct descendants.
- But you know that we can't.
It's you who can't, Josephine.
You're shivering.
It's getting cold.
I simply ask that
an expedition force
be allowed to pass through
Spain on its way to Portugal.
It's intolerable of Lisbon to
receive the English fleet,
although I ordered a blockade
on all the ports in Europe.
Sire, these devilish Portuguese.
They've always had
trading in their blood.
No. The English are unloading
regiments and cannons,
not merchandise.
So they can march
up to the Pyrenees
and threaten France
from the south.
Is the Empress not hungry?
She's slightly unwell.
She doesn't know
what she's missing.
Of you set me on the
throne of Spain, Sire,
I will make it my sacred duty
to help your French army across.
What a pig you are.
Did you hear that, Sire?
Stuffing himself with food
is not enough for my son.
He intends to gobble
up my kingdom.
That's enough.
Your family quarrels are pathetic
and unworthy of the
Princes you claim to be.
Excuse me, Sire.
A dispatch from Madrid.
Marshall Murat's headquarters,
dated the 2nd of May.
Our troops stationed in Madrid
have been attacked by rioters.
Many grenadiers have
had their throats cut
in most cowardly fashion.
Murat had to order his men
to fire on the aggressors.
Madrid is a sea of
blood and flames.
He is the King.
Madrid is his responsibility.
Of there are rebels,
they must be his.
No, that's a lie.
Bandits he's rallied
to steal my throne.
That's enough.
The blood of my men has
been spilled, not yours.
Look at me, both of you.
I've made my decision.
King Charles,
you have until tomorrow
to sign your abdication.
You are only a puppet king.
The real power in Spain
lies with the inquisition.
I always said
you were not fit to reign.
Your father may not be
fit, Prince Ferdinand.
But I'll never let you wear
the crown that I'm
removing from his head.
So get out now, both of
you. Get out of my sight.
Now.
You are a bloody maniac.
I don't want to
stay any more here.
That's your fault.
Everything is your fault.
Ferdinand, you owe me respect.
I don't take heed of your advice.
I told you several times
not to behave like that.
One day I will be
the King of Spain.
Are you sure about Spain?
It's not just an army
we'll be fighting.
We'll have to fight
the whole population.
Men, women, and even children.
The hell with them.
What I need is to find someone
to put on their throne.
I shall give it to Joseph.
Your brother's already
King of Naples.
Then we'll find someone
else for Naples.
- Let me through.
- Dispatch for the Emperor.
You see,
it still breaks in the same place.
Men defy death for the right
to wear the Legion d'Honneur.
We owe them something
better than these trinkets.
Make a model and let me see it.
Leave us alone, gentlemen.
I beg your pardon, Sire,
but a messenger from
Spain has just arrived,
with a confidential dispatch.
And you've read it, of course?
It's...
Well, Sire, it seemed
very urgent, so...
You opened it, to save time.
And time is very precious
to me now, so...
Well, tell me. What does it say?
Terrible news, Sire.
Madrid has fallen.
General Dupont has
surrendered to the rebels,
with his 20,000 men,
all his cannons and flags.
Coward.
Has he no honour? And my brother?
Well, Sire, King
Joseph, well, he...
What? Tell me. What?
He has left Madrid.
Left Madrid?
Are you telling me that
my brother has run away?
Alas.
A Bonaparte fleeing from danger.
What cowardice.
What treachery.
Good God, Caulaincourt.
I've been so wrong.
I should have put Murat
on the throne of Spain.
Better an ambitious
man than a coward.
And the whole world will know.
- They know, Sire.
- Everyone?
St. Petersburg is the only
place that doesn't know.
It's too far away for the
news to have travelled.
I will send
Caulaincourt to Russia.
He must get there before
the Czar finds out
what happened in Spain.
We must not give Alexander
the slightest reason
to doubt my strength.
We must make the Czar believe
that I had foreseen it all,
and I want to discuss it with him.
Of the South goes up in flames,
we must do all we can to prevent
the fire reaching the East.
I must not let myself
be torn in two.
Erfurt. Halfway between
France and Russia.
That's where Caulaincourt
must arrange
my meeting with the Czar.
Since the Emperor of Russia
claims he's our friend,
let him prove it by keeping the
Austrians and Prussians quiet
while my army is busy in Spain.
Don't worry, Sire.
I'll draw up a most
excellent little treaty.
As for those Spanish barbarians,
I will send Marshall Ney to Madrid
with orders to crush
the rebellion.
Using which troops, Sire?
The best we have, our
regiment from Germany.
But that could seriously weaken
our positions in the East.
I know, it is not the
wisest strategy.
But it would be
even more dangerous
to let all of Europe believe
that a gang of terrorists
can humiliate the French
army, and get away with it.
- I don't trust Talleyrand, Sire.
- Forget him. He's asleep.
Yeah, but we never know
if anything is genuine
with him, Sire.
But we can be certain
of one thing:
he had a long conversation
with Prince von Metternich.
What of it?
He's Minister of Foreign Affairs.
It's perfectly normal for him to
talk to the Austrian ambassador.
I managed to overhear what
Metternich said to him.
I wrote it here. Look.
"I suppose you will be at
the meeting in Erfurt.
"Many people think that you are
the only sensible man in France.
"So do not disappoint them,
my dear Talleyrand."
Just a few words.
But their meaning is clear, Sire.
To not disappoint the Czar,
Talleyrand would have
to disappoint you.
Talleyrand's reply
is what matters.
- But he did not reply, Sire.
- He simply smiled.
You know that strange
little smile of his?
At last.
How wonderful to see him again.
Alexander.
You look well.
My dear friend, may I present
Monsieur Talleyrand.
Your humble servant.
I know him very well, Sire.
And I'm certain that his
tact and moderation
will serve us well in our
little negotiations.
Negotiations?
Who said anything
about negotiations?
One negotiates when one doesn't
share the same point of view,
but we already agree about
everything, do we not?
- Shall we ride to Erfurt?
- Together, just you and I?
I have some fine Russian horses.
Come.
I know how much you enjoy
breaking free of protocol.
Splendid.
Well, Marquis?
How is this little
mission of ours going?
You've prepared the ground
successfully, I hope?
Well, I've been preparing
balls, concerts,
banquets, hunting parties,
firework displays.
The Emperor wants
to dazzle the Czar
with a display of his power.
His Majesty says nothing
helps negotiations more,
especially with a man as
civilised as Alexander.
Yes, well, the sovereign of Russia
may very well be civilised,
but his people are not.
In France, of course,
it's the other way round.
He does not like Italian music?
He prefers military music.
Military. Really.
The Emperor is rather tired, too.
Of the festivities?
I'm afraid.
- They were his idea.
- What can I say?
Like everything else.
Leave us.
They are playing
with us, Talleyrand.
We've been here an entire week,
and all we've done
is amuse ourselves.
Of you can call listening
to that Paganini
character amusement.
Alexander avoids all
mention of politics.
Can't he see I need him?
I think that's precisely why
he's being so evasive, Sire.
I'm going to bring
him back to reality.
Finita la comedia.
How is that treaty of
yours coming along?
I've been meaning to show
it to you, Your Majesty.
Where does it say
that Russia must bring pressure
to bear on Austria and Prussia?
That's why we came here.
I didn't include it, Sire,
because the Czar
would never sign it.
He hasn't the slightest intention
of dissuading the
Austrians and Prussians
from mobilising troops against us.
How do you know
what's on his mind?
I'm closer to Alexander
than you are.
He's like a brother to me now.
Cain was a brother to Abel, Sire.
Wherever you look,
you see treason.
But you betray France's interest
by daring to propose
such a treaty.
It's meaningless rubbish, and
that's what I do with rubbish.
- Very well, Sire.
- I'll review the matter.
No. No, I've lost my faith in you.
From now on, I will deal
directly with the Czar.
One on one.
Very well, Sire.
I had it made especially for
you. Isn't it magnificent?
Splendid arm.
But if the Austrians are in fact
ready to mobilise 400,000 men,
this rifle won't be
enough to stop them.
It's just for hunting rabbits on
the slopes of the Thuringerwald.
The countryside there is
breathtaking. Well, you'll see.
Now, I suggest that
we leave at dawn.
No, no, Alexander.
I shall be leaving for Paris.
But before I leave,
I want to know.
Know what?
Of you intend to keep the
promise you made in Tilsit.
I'm a man of my word.
I knew you were a friend.
I have not forgotten
that you asked me to
mediate with England.
And I shall respect
that commitment.
What about Austria and Prussia?
I don't recall
anything about that.
You don't recall?
You, the Czar of all the Russians,
you expect me to believe
that you've forgotten a promise
on which depends the
future of Europe?
No, Alexander, not
to me. Not that.
Not from you.
Let us say that I do remember,
but that I have reached
the same conclusion
as Monsieur de Talleyrand. That
to maintain peace in Europe,
there must be a balance of power.
Therefore, it is in
everyone's interest
to allow Austria to re-arm.
But forget Talleyrand.
And speak for yourself.
Will you or will you not intervene
to send the Austrians
back to their barracks,
so I can finish my business
with Spain in peace?
I'm delighted that Your
Majesty is not as tired
as Monsieur de Caulaincourt
claimed yesterday.
Anger will not serve
you well with me.
Nearly cost me a new hat.
But I finally have my answer:
He will not help us.
Austria and Prussia
are going to attack.
That's extremely worrying, Sire,
as a messenger just arrived
with news from Madrid.
General Junot was
forced to surrender.
Why do things always
go so badly in Spain?
Because you are not there, Sire.
- That's going to change.
- I'm leaving for Madrid.
If Napoleon was still
alive, we would know it.
He has never been
able to spend an hour
without sending dozens of
letters all over the place.
And for the last few days,
there has been only silence.
His letters might have
been intercepted.
The Spanish have been
known to slit the throats
of anyone in a French uniform.
- And you, Madame?
- What do you think?
Like you, Monsieur Fouche,
I fear the worst.
You know what's going to happen
if we let events overtake us?
The return of the monarchy?
I can well understand why
that unsettles you, Fouche.
Louis XVIII might make you
pay dearly for your zeal
during the reign of terror.
You're quite wrong.
Any fears I may have
are for France.
Well...
We must prepare the
Emperor's succession.
I am convinced that my husband
would easily win the
French people's approval.
I agree. What remains
to be seen, of course,
is what your husband is
going to think about this.
Murat will think what I think.
Ah.
All we need is you
now, Talleyrand,
to complete the party.
The conspiracy, you mean?
Or, in a word, the treason.
- Treason?
- Where do you see treason?
The Emperor has always designated
the son of Louis and
Hortense as his successor.
But the child isn't
even 6 months old.
Nevertheless, making arrangements
to contradict the Emperor's
wishes is called treason.
A somewhat delicate matter.
Who will reproach us if
Napoleon does not return?
Josephine?
Josephine doesn't count.
Of we let her keep Malmaison
and give her some money,
she'll be eating out of our hands.
That's a fascinating topic.
And what if the Emperor
does come back?
That would be a miracle.
I would have a Te Deum sung
in the Notre-Dame-de-Paris.
What an excellent
sister you are, Madame.
The Emperor may very well be
surrounded by enemies in Europe,
but in France he is surrounded
by his wonderful family.
So loving,
so united.
- It's me.
- Why are you hiding your face?
Does your conscience stop
you from looking at me?
My conscience? Why?
Because of what's
been happening here,
while I was in Spain.
What has been happening?
Do you take me for
a fool, Josephine?
Do you take me for a fool?
You betrayed me with other men,
and now you just betray me.
Concealing what you
know is betrayal.
I don't know what
you're talking about.
I swear, I don't know what
you're talking about.
Maybe you didn't play a
part in the betrayal.
But I blame you for
not informing me.
A betrayal?
- They're all in it.
- Who betrayed you?
- Fouche, Talleyrand.
- Even Murat.
Murat? But Murat and Caroline
don't even talk to me.
Caroline hates me.
And what about those two traitors?
Fouche and Talleyrand?
But they are the same.
They despise me too much to get
me involved in their plots.
No one knew where you were,
what might have become of you.
They said the war was monstrous.
The wounded men who came home
had no words to describe
what they had seen.
Everyone believed
that you were dead.
And I was here alone,
waiting for them to come and
tell me that I was finished.
Waiting for them to throw me out.
What will become
of me without you?
Who will I be without you?
Forgive me.
Forgive me.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
Remain on your feet, Talleyrand.
Like the accused before his judge.
Accused?
Me?
My God, Sire, accused of what?
Taking part in a coup d'etat,
based on the shameful pretext
that the Spanish
expedition was a disaster,
and there was no chance
of my returning alive.
As a matter of fact, Sire,
I never doubted I
would see you again.
I took Burgos...
Madrid...
And I drove the English out
of the Spanish peninsula.
Hardly a disaster, Talleyrand.
Where I come from, we
call that a victory.
A precarious victory, Sire.
Half your army is still in Spain,
enforcing a tentative peace.
The moment they leave...
I have no intention
of pulling them out.
And that's precisely the problem.
There is a coalition
being formed against us,
including the Austrians,
possibly the Russians...
That's your fault.
You poisoned my relationship
with Vienna, the Czar,
and everyone else.
And you pushed me to
intervene in Spain.
I advised action,
Sire, not obstinacy.
Oh, you were right
and I was wrong?
- I didn't say you were wrong.
- Misguided, perhaps.
What was the price
of your betrayal?
What is the fee for a
man in your position?
Now you cast aspersions
on my honour?
Honour?
You?
You have no honour.
You're a scoundrel.
Sire, when a point is exaggerated,
it becomes meaningless.
That's what you have
just become: meaningless.
I invalidate your office
of Grand Chamberlain,
and the 40,000 francs
that go with it.
Very well.
Of course, it's completely unjust,
but I will submit to
Your Majesty's will,
and I shall continue to be a
faithful servant of Your Majesty
until the day I die.
And Fouche?
What about Fouche?
Well, obviously I have no
wish to condemn anyone else,
but I do find it quite surprising
that after I have received this
type of treatment, Fouche is...
of I had plans to punish Fouche,
you've just made
me change my mind.
Talleyrand.
You are shit.
Shit in a silk stocking.
So?
It's a pity that such a great man
should have such bad manners.
Why?
Did you find him very angry?
Fortunately, I was able to
convince him to forgive you.
It's quite all right, you
don't have to thank me.
You know you can
always count on me.
Why are we here?
He won't come.
- Oh, yes.
- My brother will come.
Giving thanks to
God for his bounty
is an excellent way of
making people believe
the Spanish campaign
wasn't such a disaster.
What the hell am I
going to say to him?
Nothing.
Smile. You're irresistible
when you smile.
Do you know why your
husband is here
instead of being locked
up in a fortress?
Because you're my sister.
What a triumph tonight.
You know that people didn't
applaud because they're worried.
Whose fault is that?
Even in my own family,
there are defeatists.
And worse.
I'd be lying if I said
she wasn't pretty.
Pretty, not exact.
Attractive.
Although there is a touch
of the farmyard about her.
Josephine, that young
woman is the Countess...
Walewska, I know.
A Pole might cover her
face with powder,
but the ruddy complexion
gives them away at the end.
Not to mention the hat.
Sire. From Marshall Berthier.
To Murat. My escort and
my carriage immediately.
Yes, Sire.
Austrian troops have
crossed Linz. It's war.
We're leaving, gentlemen.
Sire.
I saw you leaving before everyone.
I ran out, I thought,
we can take my carriage
and go to my house.
It's more discreet.
- Too late, my angel.
- I'm going to war.
I didn't ask for it, but
I must defend myself.
I will leave Paris before dawn.
- But it's still early.
- That leaves us a little time.
When you stop wanting me,
you can still remind me that you
have hundreds of things to do,
thousands of letters to write.
But only one Marie.
You. You haven't seen me.
Yes, Sire.
Hold your ground.
Hold your ground.
Come on.
Bayonets.
Fire.
Argh.
Everyone will die.
Come on. Come on.
Fire.
Forward.
Argh.
It's nothing. Nothing.
Sire. The engineers have
rebuilt the bridge.
All the men and ammunition
to the left bank.
Move fast. The battle is not lost.
Ah.
Sire.
Take shelter, Sire.
Of you don't, your Grenadiers
will stop fighting.
I will confront the
enemy at Wagram again.
There is a fine plain
there, very fine plain.
We will cross the Danube.
I am sure Wagram will be
the site of our victory.
Move aside.
Make way for the Emperor.
Move aside.
Lannes.
No.
Lannes. Can you see me?
- Step away, Sire.
- Do you recognise me?
We must amputate.
- Amputate.
- That is Marshall Lannes.
Which is why I'm
cutting off his leg.
With anyone less, I'd put a
bullet through his head.
It's you?
I hoped you'd come.
I was waiting to see
you before I go.
Go?
Where do you think you're going
without any legs, you damn fool?
To hell.
That's where people go when
they've done what I've done.
The slaughter.
The horrors.
You will know what
hell is like, too.
When you end up alone,
after you've sent all your
friends to their death.
They will abandon you.
They can't go on, you know?
No one dares tell you this,
but I do.
I'm...
I'm here because of you...
And even though I'm dying,
it doesn't stop me
from loving you.
So stop this war.
Put an end to this madness.
Put an end to this madn...
Marbot?
The body of Marshall
Lannes is to be embalmed.
His remains will be carried
back to Paris in a coach,
escorted by a platoon of honour.
I don't know those jewels.
You mean you don't recognise them.
I used to wear them
when we got married.
Not so very long ago.
Thirteen years.
I only looked at your eyes then.
And now?
I'm afraid I have to
look at the future.
Which means?
I've just come through a battle
that showed me how dangerous it is
when I can only send half
my forces into combat.
Wagram is a victory.
But I nearly lost
everything at Essling.
The war in the East could
start up again, any day now.
And what would happen with
half my army stuck in Spain?
Am I supposed to know the answer?
You are the answer.
A part of the answer.
I need a long period
of peace in the East.
And our only chance for peace
is a marriage contract
between France and Austria.
You mean between you and the
Arch-Duchess Marie-Louise?
The prospect disgusts me.
But I must sacrifice
everything to...
No need to justify yourself.
I knew this would happen one day.
And she's young, isn't she?
She can give you the child
you always dream of.
The proper heir at last.
But all the same, you
certainly have changed.
After doing all you could
to destroy the
monarchies of Europe,
now you're going to bed a crown.
This is not about
bedding, Josephine.
It's for reasons of state.
Don't cry, please.
It's not worthy of you.
It's not worthy of us.
I'm not crying.
Only little girls cry,
and I haven't been a little
girl in a long time.
Which is why you're
getting rid of me.
Because I'm an old woman.
You no longer love me, Napoleon.
That's the truth of it.
The only truth.
You don't love me.
Stop playacting.
Come on, get up.
Someone may come in.
Present arms.
Sire, His Excellency
Prince de Metternich,
the Austrian ambassador,
asks to be received.
I will receive him.
Good God, what's that?
A scarecrow, Sire.
Dressed up in an Austrian uniform?
Of Marie-Louise sees that,
we'll have a diplomatic
incident on our hands.
Yes, of course.
It's been hard enough as it is
to persuade the Emperor Francois
that we are ready to love
his Austrian daughter,
when it's barely 15 years
since Marie Antoinette
was guillotined.
Il momento della verita.
That's right.
The paintings are signed
by Redoute and Dubois.
This is the reception room
for your ladies-in-waiting.
It's wonderful.
And over there, you have
your imperial bedroom.
Exquisite.
Their Majesties will have a
rest for a little while.
I should warn Your Majesty, no.
No?
What do you mean, no?
No. Not before I'm your wife.
- You are my wife.
- I married you by proxy.
Our marriage is meaningless for me
until it's been blessed by God.
Caulaincourt?
Yes, Sire?
- I need a man of God.
- A man of God? You, Sire?
Whatever for?
Can you find one or can't you?
Well... I ran into
an old Cardinal.
Cardinal? She'll love it.
They are sending us a Cardinal.
Yes, I heard.
Then, we shall wait until
His Eminence arrives.
Oh. It won't be long.
Caulaincourt is very efficient,
like all the men who serve me.
Most of them were
mere nobodies before.
I seem to have a gift for helping
people raise themselves.
Well, I started off
rather highly placed.
Do you think you can
raise me even higher?
Yes.
I can raise you to happiness.
Ik liebe dik.
No.
No?
Ich liebe dich.
Ich liebe dich.
Push. Push, Your Majesty.
Doctor.
Oh, no, no. Not now.
Your mother willed this on her.
My mother?
Yes. I always suspected
she was a bit of a witch.
For God's sake, Corvisard.
There must be
something you can do.
Sire, we've done
everything in our power.
But the Empress has been
in unbearable torment
for nearly 12 hours.
And she's getting weaker.
I'm obliged now to ask you
that we must choose...
Choose?
Mother or the child.
Her.
Have I understood rightly, Sire?
You condemn the child?
My wife has the right to live.
Of course.
But, when tragic
circumstances demand it,
it's customary for sovereigns...
of the Empress loses this
child, she'll have others.
She's young, she's so
young. And full of life.
Very well, Sire.
It was a boy.
My wife?
Spent. But she will live.
Thank you, Doctor.
You'll be fine now.
You'll be fine.
My God. He's alive.
Linen. Linen.
Sire.
Aide-de-camp.
Fire the cannon, Monsieur.
One hundred and one shots, please,
to salute the birth of my son.
At your orders, Sire.
The first thing I did, Madame,
was send word asking you
to delay your visit,
because something extraordinary
has happened tonight.
I know.
I heard the cannon.
I can still hear it, it's endless.
On hundred and one shots.
A son. Can you believe it?
Here's another son of yours.
Alexander, isn't it?
You wrote to me about him.
Charming child, so fair, so...
So Polish.
Never mind, Sire.
I didn't come to beg
you as a mother,
but as a patriot.
Countess Walewska, in the
name of all her people.
You must listen to me, Napoleon.
Even though your heart
is elsewhere tonight.
The Russian Czar has
gathered over 300,000 men
on the border of the
Grand Duchy of Warsaw.
Although, as you may recall,
you guaranteed our integrity
in the name of France.
I'm aware of the situation.
I appoint ministers
to keep me informed.
Then you must have decided
what your answer will be
to this provocation.
Provocation?
Is that really the right word?
No, threat is more accurate.
For us Poles, a deadly threat.
For you.
For the birth of your son.
Don't you want to see
what I've given you?
Well?
It's beautiful.
But it doesn't answer my question.
I will not leave here until you...
Countess.
Sire, there's a huge crowd
out front of the palace.
The people are asking for
Your Majesty to show himself.
Sire, all these good
people are so happy.
You cannot refuse them
this extra joy, please.
Sire.
Would you choose between
Poland, who implores you,
and Russia, who defies you?
I'll let you know my answer.
War with Russia, for Poland.
Sheer folly.
I'm afraid you've chosen
the wrong day, Madame.
He won't let us become Russian.
Madame...
This night has
changed the Emperor.
He is now another man.
I know this man.
He will help us.
- The Emperor, Your Highness.
- It's the Emperor.
Oh, no.
Quick, give me some
water, quick. Here.
You should have let me know.
Don't touch me. And don't
look at me, I forbid you.
I am dirty, my hair is a mess,
I'm dressed like a peasant...
You could even say a poor peasant.
You're up to your eyes in debts.
I've had to pay another
bunch of angry tradesmen.
I grant you a pension of
five million francs a year.
What do you do with
the money, Josephine?
- I spend it.
- Anyway, it isn't your money.
No, it's the state's.
You bailed me out so many times,
you should be used to it by now.
But that's not why you
look so serious today.
What have you really come
to talk to me about?
War.
It seems inevitable.
The Czar is threatening
Poland in an intolerable way.
Oh, our dear Walewska
has finally succeeded.
She couldn't have
you for a husband,
so she will have you
as her champion.
Oh, that's not enough
to push me into a war
that could be the most terrible
one the world has ever known.
And if I attack Russia, it
won't only be for Poland.
But Russian ports are still
welcoming English ships.
And I can't allow that.
- Poland, Russia and England.
- You're making me dizzy.
I'm so far from all of that now.
But who am I that you should
come for me to advise?
An intelligent, perceptive woman.
Do you really think so?
Of I didn't, I would be with my
marshals, not here with you.
Let me tempt you with
some hot chocolate.
I didn't think you
looked any fatter.
Listen to me.
Listen to your old friend.
Do not go to Russia.
You're at the height
of your glory.
From Portugal to Poland,
almost all Europe is yours.
You rule over the destiny
of over 60 million men.
You have a wife you love,
who has given you the
heir you so longed for.
Precisely.
What if I can leave him even more?
What if my son...
becomes Emperor of Europe
when he succeeds me?
Napoleon, be sensible.
Watching your son grow up
will give you more
happiness than an empire.
Do not go to Russia.
I had dreams about you.
Bad dreams.
I'm Creole, remember.
And where I come from, we
believe in such omens.
Do not go to Russia.
I thought this marriage was
supposed to guarantee peace.
I should have married
an English woman.
London is pushing the Czar to
provoke me, I'm sure of it.
Your garden is looking
very beautiful.
Especially for April.
It's dead.
Nothing's moving.
How eerie.
There seems to be here
no one to defend Moscow.
The Czar has abandoned
the city to us.
Makes me uneasy.
Let's go down there, gentlemen.
Search the place.
They can't have
left very long ago.
What if it's a trap?
You're right to be
suspicious, Murat,
but Russians are warriors,
not murderers who lie
and wait in the dark.
Funny sort of warriors.
They've been fleeing ahead
of us for three months.
We beat them at Borodino, though.
I don't believe they are
retreating out of panic.
I suspect it's for
tactical reasons.
A tactic that gets them nowhere.
Other than abandoning their
towns to us, one after another.
How Europe will tremble
when they know we've taken Moscow.
We haven't taken Russia
until we take the Czar.
And the Czar is in St. Petersburg.
Then, we'll go to St. Petersburg.
We'll load up all the
provisions we can find here,
food and ammunition, and onwards.
We've looked everywhere, Sire.
The place is full
of food supplies,
but there's not a soul to be seen.
Very well.
Gentlemen. It's extremely
cold in the Kremlin.
Let's see if we can find a
way to warm it up a bit.
This is what the Czar of all
the Russians sleeps in?
No wonder he refuses
to fight like a man.
Set up my camp bed and my
table here, beside this...
this cherry cake.
And I want to get rid of
these things as well.
Sire.
Sire, all the main buildings
have been stuffed with fuses,
firebrands and rags,
and soaked with sulphur and tar.
All it took was a few men
prepared to sacrifice themselves,
and whoof.
All the fire pumps
have been sabotaged.
In two or three days' time,
Moscow will be a pile of ashes.
Sire. A Prussian column
has just attacked Devout.
Prussians.
What are they doing here?
Didn't I teach them a lesson at
Lena? Where is Marshall Ney?
Still no news, Sire.
- Send the guard into combat.
- Your guard, Sire?
I know it's the first
time. Carry on.
Very good, Sire.
Troops, bayonets.
Forward, march.
Cease fire. Grenadiers,
pick up arms.
Hold that fire.
Only with bayonets.
Argh.
Sire, Marshall Ney
and his regiments
have made contact with the enemy.
It always comes down to a
bit of luck in the end.
Fire.
Argh.
What's he writing?
Probably the report of the battle,
as he wants it published
in Paris' newspapers.
The Emperor takes charge
of everything around him.
Including the facts.
Is the separation as
difficult for you
as it is for me, my sweet Marie?
This sad village called Eylau
is haunted by the
dead and the wounded.
It's a victory...
with a taste of defeat.
Which is why, Marie, I take
refuge tonight thinking of you.
To let a bit of tenderness
exist in this world of
suffering and death.
This sad village called Eylau
is haunted by the
dead and wounded.
It's a victory, with
a taste of defeat.
Which is why, Marie, I take
refuge tonight thinking of you.
To let a bit of tenderness
exist in this world of
suffering and death.
See that, Caulaincourt?
The Czar of all the Russians
in all his splendour.
Dazzling.
When one is defeated, Sire,
one has the choice of
covering oneself with ashes,
or furbelows.
He has chosen furbelows.
As you must know,
Sire, I am like you.
I despise the English
more than I can say.
In that case, Sire,
we have made peace.
I've commissioned this
painting for you,
determined that you
should have a souvenir
of our discussion in the
middle of the Niemen.
When the Emperor of France
and the Czar of Russia met
to offer one another peace.
Do you really think France
has offered you peace?
I would say she has
imposed it on you.
The French have such
a gift for nuance.
It's more than a nuance, Sire.
You know very well that if you
had not accepted my conditions,
I would have blown your
Austrian and Hungarian allies
off the face of the Earth,
and laid waste to your own empire.
And such cruel terminology.
I'm a conqueror, not a lyricist.
Well, it's of no consequence.
What matters is that
we have made peace.
An honourable peace
that will last.
It will last as long as we
respect our agreements.
Everything to the East
of the Vistula is yours,
but everything to
the West is mine.
There's only one problem.
That annoying little river
runs through Poland.
And Poland can never be French.
She won't be Russian, I
can assure you of that.
No, there is only one solution.
An independent, sovereign Poland.
A Polish Poland, back to
back with holy Russia?
Yes.
- They'd be a constant threat.
- No. Poland stays as she is.
- But she isn't anything.
- Exactly.
I'll make you an offer:
Drop your idea of
resurrecting Poland,
and I shall persuade the English
to stop setting
Europe against you.
Interesting.
I hate the way the English
preach to the whole world.
Of there's one nation that has a
right to preach, it is France.
The Revolution was a great step
toward the freedom of mankind.
Including freedom for
Russia's 10 million serfs?
Sire, you can't reform everything.
Perhaps.
Not all at once.
I waited for 3 days and 3 nights.
And then it was over.
Nothing could be done?
What can be done for diphtheria?
My sweet little boy died
in a horrible tormented fear.
I loved your son, Hortense.
I loved him as much as
if it had been my own.
Your dear Charles
Napoleon was of my blood,
and he would have
succeeded me if...
It is not your heir who died.
It is my child.
You say you loved him.
So forget your reign for a
moment, and weep with me.
Weep? Him?
He has wallowed in
death for so long
that it stirs no feelings at all.
He knew the stench of corpses
before he even smelt a woman.
You're mean.
You're stupid, and...
Stop it, stop. Both of you.
I forbid you to use my dead
child to destroy each other.
She's right.
She's right, but what
you said was unfair.
You have no idea what
that war was like.
And the hell I've returned from.
Hell?
With a bit of paradise, too.
Everyone says that
your Polish wife,
yes, that's what
they call her here,
has the face of an angel.
Countess Walewska, if you
are referring to her,
is in no way my wife.
But there is nothing to
prevent it, is there?
No.
Of you had the courage to
tell me what you want,
what sort of sacrifice
you expect from me.
Divorce?
Renouncement?
My suicide?
Moi, monsieur?
You told my footman the
Emperor sent you to see my...
My son, yes.
Sire.
It's you, finally.
May I?
Yes, of course.
I've never held such a
small child in my arms.
Hortense would never
Let me carry her son.
She was afraid I would drop him.
This one is yours.
You can hold him as
much as you want.
He's...
He's quite handsome, isn't he?
Of course he's handsome.
Oh.
People don't dare say he
looks like you, but...
What people?
I hope you don't show
him to everyone.
It is our secret.
I'll take him, Sire.
It's not comfortable for you.
Also, he's not yet housebroken,
and I wouldn't want...
No, no.
I'll keep him with me for a bit.
He must get used to you.
Now that you're back,
you'll be able to come
visit us as often as...
No, this is our last
meeting, Eleanore.
But why? What have I done?
You have only been good for me.
You cannot imagine how happy I was
to hear that you had
borne me a child.
Don't worry,
you will not want for anything.
I will look after both of you.
But from a distance.
From a distance?
Because you are the Emperor,
and he is your bastard?
No. Don't call him that.
He is my son.
For me, he's my son. So take him.
And forgive me.
Will you miss him, at least?
Pick up the bodies.
Argh.
- Look at this one.
- Isn't that pretty?
Yes.
Oh, look.
Ah, it smells so good.
Look at those.
Ah. Ah.
What? What happened.
Did you hurt yourself?
I have a confession to make.
Yes?
I slipped on purpose,
to see if you would
take me in your arms
Like you did once upon a time.
It's good to be in your arms.
Thank you for this
little adventure.
Don't rejoice too quickly.
Those two Spanish fools
I'm forcing you to dine
with tonight are really...
I'm prepared for the worst.
It seems that the King is
a spineless jellyfish,
and the son a disgusting pig.
- A pig and jellyfish.
- What a menu.
Since you're so nice,
I'm going to tell you
some wonderful news.
No, let me guess.
Your dressmaker has run
out of ribbons and silk,
and you're going to make
do with the 6,000 dresses
you already own.
No, it's serious.
It concerns your succession.
Napoleon, you're going
to have an heir.
You're pregnant?
No, not me. Hortense.
Hortense is pregnant again.
And if it's going to be a boy,
they're going to call
him Louis-Napoleon.
Doesn't it sound wonderful?
Louis-Napoleon, Emperor
of the French.
Possibly Emperor.
Emperor as a last resort.
Emperor if I have no
direct descendants.
- Direct descendants.
- But you know that we can't.
It's you who can't, Josephine.
You're shivering.
It's getting cold.
I simply ask that
an expedition force
be allowed to pass through
Spain on its way to Portugal.
It's intolerable of Lisbon to
receive the English fleet,
although I ordered a blockade
on all the ports in Europe.
Sire, these devilish Portuguese.
They've always had
trading in their blood.
No. The English are unloading
regiments and cannons,
not merchandise.
So they can march
up to the Pyrenees
and threaten France
from the south.
Is the Empress not hungry?
She's slightly unwell.
She doesn't know
what she's missing.
Of you set me on the
throne of Spain, Sire,
I will make it my sacred duty
to help your French army across.
What a pig you are.
Did you hear that, Sire?
Stuffing himself with food
is not enough for my son.
He intends to gobble
up my kingdom.
That's enough.
Your family quarrels are pathetic
and unworthy of the
Princes you claim to be.
Excuse me, Sire.
A dispatch from Madrid.
Marshall Murat's headquarters,
dated the 2nd of May.
Our troops stationed in Madrid
have been attacked by rioters.
Many grenadiers have
had their throats cut
in most cowardly fashion.
Murat had to order his men
to fire on the aggressors.
Madrid is a sea of
blood and flames.
He is the King.
Madrid is his responsibility.
Of there are rebels,
they must be his.
No, that's a lie.
Bandits he's rallied
to steal my throne.
That's enough.
The blood of my men has
been spilled, not yours.
Look at me, both of you.
I've made my decision.
King Charles,
you have until tomorrow
to sign your abdication.
You are only a puppet king.
The real power in Spain
lies with the inquisition.
I always said
you were not fit to reign.
Your father may not be
fit, Prince Ferdinand.
But I'll never let you wear
the crown that I'm
removing from his head.
So get out now, both of
you. Get out of my sight.
Now.
You are a bloody maniac.
I don't want to
stay any more here.
That's your fault.
Everything is your fault.
Ferdinand, you owe me respect.
I don't take heed of your advice.
I told you several times
not to behave like that.
One day I will be
the King of Spain.
Are you sure about Spain?
It's not just an army
we'll be fighting.
We'll have to fight
the whole population.
Men, women, and even children.
The hell with them.
What I need is to find someone
to put on their throne.
I shall give it to Joseph.
Your brother's already
King of Naples.
Then we'll find someone
else for Naples.
- Let me through.
- Dispatch for the Emperor.
You see,
it still breaks in the same place.
Men defy death for the right
to wear the Legion d'Honneur.
We owe them something
better than these trinkets.
Make a model and let me see it.
Leave us alone, gentlemen.
I beg your pardon, Sire,
but a messenger from
Spain has just arrived,
with a confidential dispatch.
And you've read it, of course?
It's...
Well, Sire, it seemed
very urgent, so...
You opened it, to save time.
And time is very precious
to me now, so...
Well, tell me. What does it say?
Terrible news, Sire.
Madrid has fallen.
General Dupont has
surrendered to the rebels,
with his 20,000 men,
all his cannons and flags.
Coward.
Has he no honour? And my brother?
Well, Sire, King
Joseph, well, he...
What? Tell me. What?
He has left Madrid.
Left Madrid?
Are you telling me that
my brother has run away?
Alas.
A Bonaparte fleeing from danger.
What cowardice.
What treachery.
Good God, Caulaincourt.
I've been so wrong.
I should have put Murat
on the throne of Spain.
Better an ambitious
man than a coward.
And the whole world will know.
- They know, Sire.
- Everyone?
St. Petersburg is the only
place that doesn't know.
It's too far away for the
news to have travelled.
I will send
Caulaincourt to Russia.
He must get there before
the Czar finds out
what happened in Spain.
We must not give Alexander
the slightest reason
to doubt my strength.
We must make the Czar believe
that I had foreseen it all,
and I want to discuss it with him.
Of the South goes up in flames,
we must do all we can to prevent
the fire reaching the East.
I must not let myself
be torn in two.
Erfurt. Halfway between
France and Russia.
That's where Caulaincourt
must arrange
my meeting with the Czar.
Since the Emperor of Russia
claims he's our friend,
let him prove it by keeping the
Austrians and Prussians quiet
while my army is busy in Spain.
Don't worry, Sire.
I'll draw up a most
excellent little treaty.
As for those Spanish barbarians,
I will send Marshall Ney to Madrid
with orders to crush
the rebellion.
Using which troops, Sire?
The best we have, our
regiment from Germany.
But that could seriously weaken
our positions in the East.
I know, it is not the
wisest strategy.
But it would be
even more dangerous
to let all of Europe believe
that a gang of terrorists
can humiliate the French
army, and get away with it.
- I don't trust Talleyrand, Sire.
- Forget him. He's asleep.
Yeah, but we never know
if anything is genuine
with him, Sire.
But we can be certain
of one thing:
he had a long conversation
with Prince von Metternich.
What of it?
He's Minister of Foreign Affairs.
It's perfectly normal for him to
talk to the Austrian ambassador.
I managed to overhear what
Metternich said to him.
I wrote it here. Look.
"I suppose you will be at
the meeting in Erfurt.
"Many people think that you are
the only sensible man in France.
"So do not disappoint them,
my dear Talleyrand."
Just a few words.
But their meaning is clear, Sire.
To not disappoint the Czar,
Talleyrand would have
to disappoint you.
Talleyrand's reply
is what matters.
- But he did not reply, Sire.
- He simply smiled.
You know that strange
little smile of his?
At last.
How wonderful to see him again.
Alexander.
You look well.
My dear friend, may I present
Monsieur Talleyrand.
Your humble servant.
I know him very well, Sire.
And I'm certain that his
tact and moderation
will serve us well in our
little negotiations.
Negotiations?
Who said anything
about negotiations?
One negotiates when one doesn't
share the same point of view,
but we already agree about
everything, do we not?
- Shall we ride to Erfurt?
- Together, just you and I?
I have some fine Russian horses.
Come.
I know how much you enjoy
breaking free of protocol.
Splendid.
Well, Marquis?
How is this little
mission of ours going?
You've prepared the ground
successfully, I hope?
Well, I've been preparing
balls, concerts,
banquets, hunting parties,
firework displays.
The Emperor wants
to dazzle the Czar
with a display of his power.
His Majesty says nothing
helps negotiations more,
especially with a man as
civilised as Alexander.
Yes, well, the sovereign of Russia
may very well be civilised,
but his people are not.
In France, of course,
it's the other way round.
He does not like Italian music?
He prefers military music.
Military. Really.
The Emperor is rather tired, too.
Of the festivities?
I'm afraid.
- They were his idea.
- What can I say?
Like everything else.
Leave us.
They are playing
with us, Talleyrand.
We've been here an entire week,
and all we've done
is amuse ourselves.
Of you can call listening
to that Paganini
character amusement.
Alexander avoids all
mention of politics.
Can't he see I need him?
I think that's precisely why
he's being so evasive, Sire.
I'm going to bring
him back to reality.
Finita la comedia.
How is that treaty of
yours coming along?
I've been meaning to show
it to you, Your Majesty.
Where does it say
that Russia must bring pressure
to bear on Austria and Prussia?
That's why we came here.
I didn't include it, Sire,
because the Czar
would never sign it.
He hasn't the slightest intention
of dissuading the
Austrians and Prussians
from mobilising troops against us.
How do you know
what's on his mind?
I'm closer to Alexander
than you are.
He's like a brother to me now.
Cain was a brother to Abel, Sire.
Wherever you look,
you see treason.
But you betray France's interest
by daring to propose
such a treaty.
It's meaningless rubbish, and
that's what I do with rubbish.
- Very well, Sire.
- I'll review the matter.
No. No, I've lost my faith in you.
From now on, I will deal
directly with the Czar.
One on one.
Very well, Sire.
I had it made especially for
you. Isn't it magnificent?
Splendid arm.
But if the Austrians are in fact
ready to mobilise 400,000 men,
this rifle won't be
enough to stop them.
It's just for hunting rabbits on
the slopes of the Thuringerwald.
The countryside there is
breathtaking. Well, you'll see.
Now, I suggest that
we leave at dawn.
No, no, Alexander.
I shall be leaving for Paris.
But before I leave,
I want to know.
Know what?
Of you intend to keep the
promise you made in Tilsit.
I'm a man of my word.
I knew you were a friend.
I have not forgotten
that you asked me to
mediate with England.
And I shall respect
that commitment.
What about Austria and Prussia?
I don't recall
anything about that.
You don't recall?
You, the Czar of all the Russians,
you expect me to believe
that you've forgotten a promise
on which depends the
future of Europe?
No, Alexander, not
to me. Not that.
Not from you.
Let us say that I do remember,
but that I have reached
the same conclusion
as Monsieur de Talleyrand. That
to maintain peace in Europe,
there must be a balance of power.
Therefore, it is in
everyone's interest
to allow Austria to re-arm.
But forget Talleyrand.
And speak for yourself.
Will you or will you not intervene
to send the Austrians
back to their barracks,
so I can finish my business
with Spain in peace?
I'm delighted that Your
Majesty is not as tired
as Monsieur de Caulaincourt
claimed yesterday.
Anger will not serve
you well with me.
Nearly cost me a new hat.
But I finally have my answer:
He will not help us.
Austria and Prussia
are going to attack.
That's extremely worrying, Sire,
as a messenger just arrived
with news from Madrid.
General Junot was
forced to surrender.
Why do things always
go so badly in Spain?
Because you are not there, Sire.
- That's going to change.
- I'm leaving for Madrid.
If Napoleon was still
alive, we would know it.
He has never been
able to spend an hour
without sending dozens of
letters all over the place.
And for the last few days,
there has been only silence.
His letters might have
been intercepted.
The Spanish have been
known to slit the throats
of anyone in a French uniform.
- And you, Madame?
- What do you think?
Like you, Monsieur Fouche,
I fear the worst.
You know what's going to happen
if we let events overtake us?
The return of the monarchy?
I can well understand why
that unsettles you, Fouche.
Louis XVIII might make you
pay dearly for your zeal
during the reign of terror.
You're quite wrong.
Any fears I may have
are for France.
Well...
We must prepare the
Emperor's succession.
I am convinced that my husband
would easily win the
French people's approval.
I agree. What remains
to be seen, of course,
is what your husband is
going to think about this.
Murat will think what I think.
Ah.
All we need is you
now, Talleyrand,
to complete the party.
The conspiracy, you mean?
Or, in a word, the treason.
- Treason?
- Where do you see treason?
The Emperor has always designated
the son of Louis and
Hortense as his successor.
But the child isn't
even 6 months old.
Nevertheless, making arrangements
to contradict the Emperor's
wishes is called treason.
A somewhat delicate matter.
Who will reproach us if
Napoleon does not return?
Josephine?
Josephine doesn't count.
Of we let her keep Malmaison
and give her some money,
she'll be eating out of our hands.
That's a fascinating topic.
And what if the Emperor
does come back?
That would be a miracle.
I would have a Te Deum sung
in the Notre-Dame-de-Paris.
What an excellent
sister you are, Madame.
The Emperor may very well be
surrounded by enemies in Europe,
but in France he is surrounded
by his wonderful family.
So loving,
so united.
- It's me.
- Why are you hiding your face?
Does your conscience stop
you from looking at me?
My conscience? Why?
Because of what's
been happening here,
while I was in Spain.
What has been happening?
Do you take me for
a fool, Josephine?
Do you take me for a fool?
You betrayed me with other men,
and now you just betray me.
Concealing what you
know is betrayal.
I don't know what
you're talking about.
I swear, I don't know what
you're talking about.
Maybe you didn't play a
part in the betrayal.
But I blame you for
not informing me.
A betrayal?
- They're all in it.
- Who betrayed you?
- Fouche, Talleyrand.
- Even Murat.
Murat? But Murat and Caroline
don't even talk to me.
Caroline hates me.
And what about those two traitors?
Fouche and Talleyrand?
But they are the same.
They despise me too much to get
me involved in their plots.
No one knew where you were,
what might have become of you.
They said the war was monstrous.
The wounded men who came home
had no words to describe
what they had seen.
Everyone believed
that you were dead.
And I was here alone,
waiting for them to come and
tell me that I was finished.
Waiting for them to throw me out.
What will become
of me without you?
Who will I be without you?
Forgive me.
Forgive me.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
Remain on your feet, Talleyrand.
Like the accused before his judge.
Accused?
Me?
My God, Sire, accused of what?
Taking part in a coup d'etat,
based on the shameful pretext
that the Spanish
expedition was a disaster,
and there was no chance
of my returning alive.
As a matter of fact, Sire,
I never doubted I
would see you again.
I took Burgos...
Madrid...
And I drove the English out
of the Spanish peninsula.
Hardly a disaster, Talleyrand.
Where I come from, we
call that a victory.
A precarious victory, Sire.
Half your army is still in Spain,
enforcing a tentative peace.
The moment they leave...
I have no intention
of pulling them out.
And that's precisely the problem.
There is a coalition
being formed against us,
including the Austrians,
possibly the Russians...
That's your fault.
You poisoned my relationship
with Vienna, the Czar,
and everyone else.
And you pushed me to
intervene in Spain.
I advised action,
Sire, not obstinacy.
Oh, you were right
and I was wrong?
- I didn't say you were wrong.
- Misguided, perhaps.
What was the price
of your betrayal?
What is the fee for a
man in your position?
Now you cast aspersions
on my honour?
Honour?
You?
You have no honour.
You're a scoundrel.
Sire, when a point is exaggerated,
it becomes meaningless.
That's what you have
just become: meaningless.
I invalidate your office
of Grand Chamberlain,
and the 40,000 francs
that go with it.
Very well.
Of course, it's completely unjust,
but I will submit to
Your Majesty's will,
and I shall continue to be a
faithful servant of Your Majesty
until the day I die.
And Fouche?
What about Fouche?
Well, obviously I have no
wish to condemn anyone else,
but I do find it quite surprising
that after I have received this
type of treatment, Fouche is...
of I had plans to punish Fouche,
you've just made
me change my mind.
Talleyrand.
You are shit.
Shit in a silk stocking.
So?
It's a pity that such a great man
should have such bad manners.
Why?
Did you find him very angry?
Fortunately, I was able to
convince him to forgive you.
It's quite all right, you
don't have to thank me.
You know you can
always count on me.
Why are we here?
He won't come.
- Oh, yes.
- My brother will come.
Giving thanks to
God for his bounty
is an excellent way of
making people believe
the Spanish campaign
wasn't such a disaster.
What the hell am I
going to say to him?
Nothing.
Smile. You're irresistible
when you smile.
Do you know why your
husband is here
instead of being locked
up in a fortress?
Because you're my sister.
What a triumph tonight.
You know that people didn't
applaud because they're worried.
Whose fault is that?
Even in my own family,
there are defeatists.
And worse.
I'd be lying if I said
she wasn't pretty.
Pretty, not exact.
Attractive.
Although there is a touch
of the farmyard about her.
Josephine, that young
woman is the Countess...
Walewska, I know.
A Pole might cover her
face with powder,
but the ruddy complexion
gives them away at the end.
Not to mention the hat.
Sire. From Marshall Berthier.
To Murat. My escort and
my carriage immediately.
Yes, Sire.
Austrian troops have
crossed Linz. It's war.
We're leaving, gentlemen.
Sire.
I saw you leaving before everyone.
I ran out, I thought,
we can take my carriage
and go to my house.
It's more discreet.
- Too late, my angel.
- I'm going to war.
I didn't ask for it, but
I must defend myself.
I will leave Paris before dawn.
- But it's still early.
- That leaves us a little time.
When you stop wanting me,
you can still remind me that you
have hundreds of things to do,
thousands of letters to write.
But only one Marie.
You. You haven't seen me.
Yes, Sire.
Hold your ground.
Hold your ground.
Come on.
Bayonets.
Fire.
Argh.
Everyone will die.
Come on. Come on.
Fire.
Forward.
Argh.
It's nothing. Nothing.
Sire. The engineers have
rebuilt the bridge.
All the men and ammunition
to the left bank.
Move fast. The battle is not lost.
Ah.
Sire.
Take shelter, Sire.
Of you don't, your Grenadiers
will stop fighting.
I will confront the
enemy at Wagram again.
There is a fine plain
there, very fine plain.
We will cross the Danube.
I am sure Wagram will be
the site of our victory.
Move aside.
Make way for the Emperor.
Move aside.
Lannes.
No.
Lannes. Can you see me?
- Step away, Sire.
- Do you recognise me?
We must amputate.
- Amputate.
- That is Marshall Lannes.
Which is why I'm
cutting off his leg.
With anyone less, I'd put a
bullet through his head.
It's you?
I hoped you'd come.
I was waiting to see
you before I go.
Go?
Where do you think you're going
without any legs, you damn fool?
To hell.
That's where people go when
they've done what I've done.
The slaughter.
The horrors.
You will know what
hell is like, too.
When you end up alone,
after you've sent all your
friends to their death.
They will abandon you.
They can't go on, you know?
No one dares tell you this,
but I do.
I'm...
I'm here because of you...
And even though I'm dying,
it doesn't stop me
from loving you.
So stop this war.
Put an end to this madness.
Put an end to this madn...
Marbot?
The body of Marshall
Lannes is to be embalmed.
His remains will be carried
back to Paris in a coach,
escorted by a platoon of honour.
I don't know those jewels.
You mean you don't recognise them.
I used to wear them
when we got married.
Not so very long ago.
Thirteen years.
I only looked at your eyes then.
And now?
I'm afraid I have to
look at the future.
Which means?
I've just come through a battle
that showed me how dangerous it is
when I can only send half
my forces into combat.
Wagram is a victory.
But I nearly lost
everything at Essling.
The war in the East could
start up again, any day now.
And what would happen with
half my army stuck in Spain?
Am I supposed to know the answer?
You are the answer.
A part of the answer.
I need a long period
of peace in the East.
And our only chance for peace
is a marriage contract
between France and Austria.
You mean between you and the
Arch-Duchess Marie-Louise?
The prospect disgusts me.
But I must sacrifice
everything to...
No need to justify yourself.
I knew this would happen one day.
And she's young, isn't she?
She can give you the child
you always dream of.
The proper heir at last.
But all the same, you
certainly have changed.
After doing all you could
to destroy the
monarchies of Europe,
now you're going to bed a crown.
This is not about
bedding, Josephine.
It's for reasons of state.
Don't cry, please.
It's not worthy of you.
It's not worthy of us.
I'm not crying.
Only little girls cry,
and I haven't been a little
girl in a long time.
Which is why you're
getting rid of me.
Because I'm an old woman.
You no longer love me, Napoleon.
That's the truth of it.
The only truth.
You don't love me.
Stop playacting.
Come on, get up.
Someone may come in.
Present arms.
Sire, His Excellency
Prince de Metternich,
the Austrian ambassador,
asks to be received.
I will receive him.
Good God, what's that?
A scarecrow, Sire.
Dressed up in an Austrian uniform?
Of Marie-Louise sees that,
we'll have a diplomatic
incident on our hands.
Yes, of course.
It's been hard enough as it is
to persuade the Emperor Francois
that we are ready to love
his Austrian daughter,
when it's barely 15 years
since Marie Antoinette
was guillotined.
Il momento della verita.
That's right.
The paintings are signed
by Redoute and Dubois.
This is the reception room
for your ladies-in-waiting.
It's wonderful.
And over there, you have
your imperial bedroom.
Exquisite.
Their Majesties will have a
rest for a little while.
I should warn Your Majesty, no.
No?
What do you mean, no?
No. Not before I'm your wife.
- You are my wife.
- I married you by proxy.
Our marriage is meaningless for me
until it's been blessed by God.
Caulaincourt?
Yes, Sire?
- I need a man of God.
- A man of God? You, Sire?
Whatever for?
Can you find one or can't you?
Well... I ran into
an old Cardinal.
Cardinal? She'll love it.
They are sending us a Cardinal.
Yes, I heard.
Then, we shall wait until
His Eminence arrives.
Oh. It won't be long.
Caulaincourt is very efficient,
like all the men who serve me.
Most of them were
mere nobodies before.
I seem to have a gift for helping
people raise themselves.
Well, I started off
rather highly placed.
Do you think you can
raise me even higher?
Yes.
I can raise you to happiness.
Ik liebe dik.
No.
No?
Ich liebe dich.
Ich liebe dich.
Push. Push, Your Majesty.
Doctor.
Oh, no, no. Not now.
Your mother willed this on her.
My mother?
Yes. I always suspected
she was a bit of a witch.
For God's sake, Corvisard.
There must be
something you can do.
Sire, we've done
everything in our power.
But the Empress has been
in unbearable torment
for nearly 12 hours.
And she's getting weaker.
I'm obliged now to ask you
that we must choose...
Choose?
Mother or the child.
Her.
Have I understood rightly, Sire?
You condemn the child?
My wife has the right to live.
Of course.
But, when tragic
circumstances demand it,
it's customary for sovereigns...
of the Empress loses this
child, she'll have others.
She's young, she's so
young. And full of life.
Very well, Sire.
It was a boy.
My wife?
Spent. But she will live.
Thank you, Doctor.
You'll be fine now.
You'll be fine.
My God. He's alive.
Linen. Linen.
Sire.
Aide-de-camp.
Fire the cannon, Monsieur.
One hundred and one shots, please,
to salute the birth of my son.
At your orders, Sire.
The first thing I did, Madame,
was send word asking you
to delay your visit,
because something extraordinary
has happened tonight.
I know.
I heard the cannon.
I can still hear it, it's endless.
On hundred and one shots.
A son. Can you believe it?
Here's another son of yours.
Alexander, isn't it?
You wrote to me about him.
Charming child, so fair, so...
So Polish.
Never mind, Sire.
I didn't come to beg
you as a mother,
but as a patriot.
Countess Walewska, in the
name of all her people.
You must listen to me, Napoleon.
Even though your heart
is elsewhere tonight.
The Russian Czar has
gathered over 300,000 men
on the border of the
Grand Duchy of Warsaw.
Although, as you may recall,
you guaranteed our integrity
in the name of France.
I'm aware of the situation.
I appoint ministers
to keep me informed.
Then you must have decided
what your answer will be
to this provocation.
Provocation?
Is that really the right word?
No, threat is more accurate.
For us Poles, a deadly threat.
For you.
For the birth of your son.
Don't you want to see
what I've given you?
Well?
It's beautiful.
But it doesn't answer my question.
I will not leave here until you...
Countess.
Sire, there's a huge crowd
out front of the palace.
The people are asking for
Your Majesty to show himself.
Sire, all these good
people are so happy.
You cannot refuse them
this extra joy, please.
Sire.
Would you choose between
Poland, who implores you,
and Russia, who defies you?
I'll let you know my answer.
War with Russia, for Poland.
Sheer folly.
I'm afraid you've chosen
the wrong day, Madame.
He won't let us become Russian.
Madame...
This night has
changed the Emperor.
He is now another man.
I know this man.
He will help us.
- The Emperor, Your Highness.
- It's the Emperor.
Oh, no.
Quick, give me some
water, quick. Here.
You should have let me know.
Don't touch me. And don't
look at me, I forbid you.
I am dirty, my hair is a mess,
I'm dressed like a peasant...
You could even say a poor peasant.
You're up to your eyes in debts.
I've had to pay another
bunch of angry tradesmen.
I grant you a pension of
five million francs a year.
What do you do with
the money, Josephine?
- I spend it.
- Anyway, it isn't your money.
No, it's the state's.
You bailed me out so many times,
you should be used to it by now.
But that's not why you
look so serious today.
What have you really come
to talk to me about?
War.
It seems inevitable.
The Czar is threatening
Poland in an intolerable way.
Oh, our dear Walewska
has finally succeeded.
She couldn't have
you for a husband,
so she will have you
as her champion.
Oh, that's not enough
to push me into a war
that could be the most terrible
one the world has ever known.
And if I attack Russia, it
won't only be for Poland.
But Russian ports are still
welcoming English ships.
And I can't allow that.
- Poland, Russia and England.
- You're making me dizzy.
I'm so far from all of that now.
But who am I that you should
come for me to advise?
An intelligent, perceptive woman.
Do you really think so?
Of I didn't, I would be with my
marshals, not here with you.
Let me tempt you with
some hot chocolate.
I didn't think you
looked any fatter.
Listen to me.
Listen to your old friend.
Do not go to Russia.
You're at the height
of your glory.
From Portugal to Poland,
almost all Europe is yours.
You rule over the destiny
of over 60 million men.
You have a wife you love,
who has given you the
heir you so longed for.
Precisely.
What if I can leave him even more?
What if my son...
becomes Emperor of Europe
when he succeeds me?
Napoleon, be sensible.
Watching your son grow up
will give you more
happiness than an empire.
Do not go to Russia.
I had dreams about you.
Bad dreams.
I'm Creole, remember.
And where I come from, we
believe in such omens.
Do not go to Russia.
I thought this marriage was
supposed to guarantee peace.
I should have married
an English woman.
London is pushing the Czar to
provoke me, I'm sure of it.
Your garden is looking
very beautiful.
Especially for April.
It's dead.
Nothing's moving.
How eerie.
There seems to be here
no one to defend Moscow.
The Czar has abandoned
the city to us.
Makes me uneasy.
Let's go down there, gentlemen.
Search the place.
They can't have
left very long ago.
What if it's a trap?
You're right to be
suspicious, Murat,
but Russians are warriors,
not murderers who lie
and wait in the dark.
Funny sort of warriors.
They've been fleeing ahead
of us for three months.
We beat them at Borodino, though.
I don't believe they are
retreating out of panic.
I suspect it's for
tactical reasons.
A tactic that gets them nowhere.
Other than abandoning their
towns to us, one after another.
How Europe will tremble
when they know we've taken Moscow.
We haven't taken Russia
until we take the Czar.
And the Czar is in St. Petersburg.
Then, we'll go to St. Petersburg.
We'll load up all the
provisions we can find here,
food and ammunition, and onwards.
We've looked everywhere, Sire.
The place is full
of food supplies,
but there's not a soul to be seen.
Very well.
Gentlemen. It's extremely
cold in the Kremlin.
Let's see if we can find a
way to warm it up a bit.
This is what the Czar of all
the Russians sleeps in?
No wonder he refuses
to fight like a man.
Set up my camp bed and my
table here, beside this...
this cherry cake.
And I want to get rid of
these things as well.
Sire.
Sire, all the main buildings
have been stuffed with fuses,
firebrands and rags,
and soaked with sulphur and tar.
All it took was a few men
prepared to sacrifice themselves,
and whoof.
All the fire pumps
have been sabotaged.
In two or three days' time,
Moscow will be a pile of ashes.