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Anglaise et le duc La (Rohmer Eric 2001)

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Based on Journal of My Life During the French Revolution
During the Revolution,
at the end of Rue Miromesnil,
a new street north of the Champs-Elysées,
stood the townhouse of Grace Elliott.
The "Grand Lady", as she was known,
was born in 1760 of an old Scottish family.
She studied in France,
married SirJohn Elliott, then left him
to become the mistress of the Prince of Wales,
the future George IV,
to whom she bore a daughter.
Then she was noticed by Prince Philippe, Duke of Orleans
who brought her to France in 1786.
Their affair ended but they remained close friends.
The Duke had two houses in Paris.
One at Palais-Royal,
the other on the site of today's Parc Monceau,
not far from Rue Miromesnil.
Pretty posies!
Fresh water!
Who wants a drink?
Returning from England, the Duke paid me a visit
on the eve of Federation Day, one year after the Bastille fell.
Our enemies will fall confounded
and we'll sing alleluia.!
Good times are coming...
We all swore to stand united.
The whole universe will be told
of this glorious oath our hearts uphold.
Long live Orleans!
Long live the Nation!
"Master Fox, attracted by the scent, addressed him thus,
"Master... Mister..."
"Mr. Crow, good day."
"Mr. Crow, good day. You are handsome, I say!"
"What a beautiful bird! You are handsome, I say!"
The Duke of Orleans.
Show him in.
Prince!
What joy!
I heard you had arrived, but...
I didn't expect you so soon.
Yet your journey seemed to last a century.
Letters from England.
Curtsy to the Prince.
What's your name?
Julie.
That's all for now. The lesson's over. Go and play.
Forgive her, she has no social graces.
I haven't finished dressing but you may stay.
Take a seat.
I have been taking care
of that little girl.
Her mother lost her husband
and lives in great hardship with four other children.
Your devotion to the poor is a constant wonder, my dear.
It exceeds the bounds
of Christian charity and revolutionary fraternity combined.
I deserve no credit.
She is the light of my life,
my only consolation
for my own daughter's absence.
Did you see her?
She's become a real beauty.
She asks for you.
All of London is waiting for you.
The sweetness of life there
takes us back a few years.
Why didn't you stay longer, my friend?
I came back to... dispel certain rumors, alas!
Word has it that I dared not return.
At the Federation rally tomorrow,
they'll be surprised to see me walk in the procession.
It's the best way to quash the rumors.
I won't be mistaken for a cowardly émigré.
Cowardly, yes.
However, their fears are founded.
But you, my fearless friend, have stayed.
I am an étrangère.
These past two days, I have guests from the country
here for the parade.
As you know, new ideas leniently implemented
by the lawful authorities, have my full approval.
The "lawful authority" - Louis, in this case -
does not implement them.
He hates all friends of Liberty,
commencing with me.
How do you know?
He keeps insulting me.
Remember, after the Bastille fell
I traveled to Versailles
to ask him for my orders.
He answered me harshly,
"I have nothing to say to you."
He was right!
I've always felt more alien to him
than to my cook or coachman.
He is your cousin.
My family is the Nation.
I am more French than Bourbon.
The whole court is colluding with the enemy.
You sound like a Jacobin.
Yes,
and I highly approve of my son's desire to join their club.
Surely no Orleans belongs with them.
We belong wherever there are patriots.
See where your false friends lead you!
Excepting the Duke of Biron.
I've asked him to dine with us.
I'm delighted.
His only fault is his weakness.
At least he is loyal to you.
But...
the Talleyrands...
the Mirabeaus...
those turncoats have left you at the mercy of monsters,
while Merlin de Douai and your rascally cohort, Laclos,
who has brought your party into such disrepute...
Laclos has an outstanding mind
and deep insights.
He's the author of a filthy novel.
I have little regard for the book.
It's profoundly boring.
It sent me to sleep.
Granted, I do not read much.
I'm no judge of letters.
Grace...
I'm so happy to see you again.
I cherish your company and yet, alas,
you have nothing but harsh truths for me.
But they are not true.
You've been misled...
although...
I trust you are sincere.
The Royalists have turned your head.
The Sansculottes have turned yours even more.
You'll be your own downfall.
Grace, listen.
Hurry back to your homeland.
Take my prudent advice.
Your revolutionaries will be your downfall,
and with it, the King's.
You could save him.
Save Louis! He's digging his own grave
by defying the sovereign people's will.
What a way to speak!
The only sovereign I know
is the King, no one else.
You are a proud Scotswoman who loves nothing but kings and princes.
I love the king of my adopted country.
I care little for Louis.
I love my Queen.
I detest her.
I wish I could break her influence over you.
She is a lady of great refinement.
I've never heard her say
a single word against you.
And despite my friendship with you,
she trusts me completely.
She sent you to Belgium...
- You know! - I have spies.
But I won't tell a soul.
I know. But honestly,
some people in Paris should hold their tongues.
We live in a world of...
slanderers.
I do not believe them.
I don't believe what they say about the Queen,
or about you. For they slander you too.
I don't believe you fomented the October riots
by bribing the French Guards.
Nonsense!
All lies, spread by La Fayette and his clique.
While the Queen... No, enough!
I respect your fondness for an undeserving monarchy.
I blame no one for their opinion of the Revolution
if they respect mine...
but I'm more tolerant than either side, alas!
Grace,
I implore you, go back home.
There is still time
before events get out of hand.
I love you and I want you safe.
I'll miss you cruelly, but go!
As long as I can see the Queen,
even occasionally, I feel it's my duty to stay here.
The day of August 10th
Nanon!
Death to the Austrian woman!
Lord, they're at it again like last month,
when they forced the red cap on the King's head.
Everyone's at the Tuileries Palace! All the working folk
and the delegates from the countryside!
Good times are coming.! String up the aristocrats.!
It's the King's last hour!
Mr. And Mrs. Let-them-eat-cake are goners!
Hush!
What about their Swiss Guards?
They're done for. I saw them run like rabbits!
Your Louis will hang within the hour.
Quiet, or I'll tell Madame.
She'd do better to keep out of sight!
The Tuileries Palace is on fire.
The rioters massacred the Swiss Guards.
My God!
How's the King?
With the Queen and their children, he was seen fleeing to the Assembly.
I hope they won't be thrown to the mob.
Your cook says they'll arrest all aristocrats.
She's always talked nonsense before.
Now, anything is possible...
If only I'd gone to Meudon!
Maybe there's still time. HaveJustin prepare the carriage.
The city barriers are closed. No one can get out.
Then we can only pray.
If I may suggest...
We could go through the Duke's garden.
To reach Meudon?
We'd have to walk halfway around Paris.
And I refuse to implicate the Duke.
I suspect today's rioters, like those ofJune 20th,
are Marat's henchmen and no friends of the Duke.
Does Madame remember Baptiste, the doorman?
He lives behind the Invalides.
In Paris.
Yes, but there's a breach in his garden wall.
Long live the Nation!
Long live the Nation!
Please step up, Madame.
Let us part here. I'll go on alone.
Give me that.
You must stay in Paris to mind the house.
Tell my people I'm in Meudon.
They mustn't think I've fled abroad.
God help you.
God help you, especially.
Poor Madame!
What a calamity! You came alone, on foot?
Jeannette!
Weren't you afraid of being waylaid,
alone at night,
on the road?
I saw worse in Paris.
Nevertheless,
at the foot of Meudon hill,
I heard a man's footsteps which scared me more
than the murderous mob on Place Louis XV.
I went and hid behind a log.
Didn't he see you?
If he had, what would have befallen me?
He may have been a harmless peasant.
What are you up to? Give me that!
Madame isn't here.
I'm to deliver it in person!
Madame Elliott?
I am she.
From Madame Meyler.
"Please obtain a travel permit
"for you and your manservant...
"and come alone to Paris,
"where someone badly needs your help."
Grace Georgina Elliott,
née Dalrymphe.
Spell it how you like.
Darlymphe,
English citizen,
you may go to Paris
with one servant, but be back by midnight.
Halt!
"The citizen may go to Paris with one servant,
but must be back by midnight."
Where is the servant?
I sent him back to get...
papers I need in Paris.
Follow me.
Elliott,
English citizen...
With a servant?
Yes, but I told him...
She sent him back for some papers she forgot.
Let her wait for him, but not too long.
She must be home before the permit expires.
Tell me, milady,
what possessed you to enter Paris now?
The jails are full of corpses,
the streets are awash with blood...
Everyone is desperate to leave town,
and you want to come in?
My mother is dying. I need to be with her.
Very well. You are brave.
You're English.
Why aren't you in England?
My mother and I have lived in France for six years.
I have two houses here.
I feel so French that I transferred all the money I had in England.
Be warned that Paris is not safe for enemies of Liberty.
What's going on?
They're taking out some blackcoats. A conspiracy.
- Taking out? - Who knows?
- I do! - No one saw them.
Look in the cart.
They're taking a trip to Vaugirard cemetery.
Feet first,
and some in pieces.
They're short of room!
Is it the Queen?
It's her favorite, Princess de Lamballe.
Princess de Lamballe!
Hey, beautiful!
Madame's crying?
For the pretty head on the stake?
She must be lonely up there.
Want to keep her company?
Come on, aristo. Get out!
No! You are mistaken.
I'm weeping for my dying mother.
I'll miss her last words.
Look, I'm not an aristo.
I'm English. English and a patriot.
All right, be off.
We're not after Englishwomen yet.
Clarisse!
Grace! You're here at last.
I'm here. With difficulty.
What is it? You're crying.
A horrible thing...
I shiver to speak of it.
A gang of fanatics
carrying a stake with...
poor Princess de Lamballe's head on it.
Princess de Lamballe?
Oh, God!
They'd slaughtered her
at the Force prison
and then had the barbarity
to drag her remains to the Temple prison
and show them to our poor Queen.
What times are we living in?
Those "Enlightenment Philosophers"
should open their eyes!
I'll send for a cordial.
Prudence!
Quick, bring two glasses and some vintage wine.
But I'm not here to cry.
Whom do you wish me to help?
The Marquis de Champcenetz,
governor of the Tuileries.
Who?
Champcenetz?
Yes, I think you know him.
Indeed...
we met at the Duke of Orleans' before the Revolution, but...
we weren't particularly close.
Especially since the Duke, to whom he owes his career,
now hates him
for being ungrateful.
Grace, forgive me.
He led me to believe that he was
one of your friends.
Don't imperil yourself for a stranger
whom perhaps you dislike.
I'm somewhat obligated to him.
He found me my house in Meudon
when he commanded the chateau there.
But today,
even if he were my worst enemy...
I'm very surprised.
I heard he was dead.
He got away.
When the King fled to the Assembly against the Queen's will,
he jumped out through a window
and lay down in the garden
among the Swiss Guards' corpses.
A National Guard found him and lent him his coat.
He's hiding in my attic.
One moment.
Don't get up.
My respects, Madame.
How are you?
My leg is badly wounded,
I have a fever.
But it's better now.
I sought refuge
with Lord Gower, the English ambassador,
but he informed me
through his secretary
that as a public official, he could not see me.
So then... I remembered
in the past...
you introduced me
to Madame
who had a secluded house
on the outskirts of Paris.
The doorman thought I was English.
I gave my name as Mr. Smith.
Thank God, he let me in.
We should leave for Meudon at nightfall.
I have a permit for my manservant.
You will impersonate him.
Do not get up.
Are the streets safe?
I wouldn't risk it! You wish to go out?
No, I'm seeing Madame to her carriage.
All's quiet around here but further on there's trouble!
Thank you. I'll tell my driver to be careful.
I won't be long.
Citizen, we're under orders to let no one out.
But I have to be back in Meudon by midnight.
Orders from Paris and Meudon are different.
I'm not a Parisian.
I'm not running away. I just want to go home.
I beg you, for God's sake...
Sorry, they're my orders.
And don't try another barrier.
Find yourself a bed or you'll be arrested at 10 o'clock
when the house searches start. Vehicles must be off the street.
They won't let us out.
I feared as much.
Drive on.
Where to, Madame?
The Allées des Invalides.
What's wrong with you, fellow?
He's drunk.
He's still in his cups.
Shame on you, rascal!
I'll walk you to your door. The sot can lean on me.
I don't want my lady friend to see him like this.
I'll wait till he's sobered up.
I'm going home.
I don't want to be arrested for you two.
Thirty sous.
Take care!
The patrols will soon be out.
I feel better.
The air is cooler here.
- Let's make haste. - Careful!
They're going to guard the wall.
We're done for!
Don't let me jeopardize you.
Give me up.
You'll save one life at least, yours.
I shan't even save mine.
They'll think I'm your accomplice.
Then I'll go alone.
If you're still strong enough, let us turn back.
Where to?
My house at Monceau.
I am exhausted.
Keep walking slowly. Act sick, drag your leg.
That won't be difficult.
Faster, old man! It's after curfew.
Thank heavens it wasn't a patrol.
They're going back
to the section-house.
We'll meet others, more dangerous.
I don't want you caught.
Abandon me.
Try a little harder.
Beyond Place Louis XV, we'll find darkness.
It'll take us hours.
No matter.
I undertook to rescue you. I shall do so or perish with you.
Let that be clear!
Look!
There's Pulchérie, my cook, in the doorway.
She is a Jacobin. We can't trust her.
I've an idea. Let's go to the Duke's garden in Monceau.
It's nearby.
If he finds out we're there,
he will say nothing for your sake.
I don't like it. We would have to pass my doorway
or go around and risk meeting a patrol.
Hide here. I'll go home and see what I can do.
Enemies of the people are spreading rumors...
Madame, what a surprise!
Did you come on foot?
As you can see.
From Meudon?
I took a cab to the barriers.
With all the horrors now in Paris,
I felt uneasy in the country.
Don't stay out here. The patrol is coming.
Pulchérie,
I'm starving. Bring me some roast fowl and salad.
The larder is empty.
Go wake up the innkeeper.
He'll probably charge me ten louis.
But there's a curfew. I'll be arrested!
They won't bother you.
You're known at the section-house.
Go quick or I'll dismiss you.
The patrol! They're coming down the street.
All right, let's wait.
Forgive me, Madame...
Monsieur, who are you?
How dare you enter my house
at such an hour in times like these?
Have mercy.
I turned myself in this afternoon.
I was acquitted and allowed to go home.
As I passed your door,
I thought I'd greet you.
Greetings, Monsieur,
but should I believe you?
He's lying.
You're Champcenetz, aren't you?
The Palace governor. A wanted man, ready for the scaffold.
You nasty aristocrat!
I'd turn you in if it weren't for Madame.
Go on! Be off!
Please leave at once.
You'll have us all arrested for conspiracy.
What are you waiting for?
Over the garden wall.
I'm not sure he can.
Help him.
Get moving, Pulchérie. I'm hungry.
Now is the time. The patrol's away.
They'll have gone down Rue Verte.
What if she turns us in?
Where's Nanon?
Gone to ask after her son. He may be dead.
One misery after another!
I'll be gone, Madame.
Don't endanger yourself.
He needs to lie down.
Come to my bedroom.
Does Madame have any alcohol?
Yes! I think there's some left.
I've an idea, but I doubt Madame will like it.
Under the circumstances, Madame won't mind if I am blunt.
If the patrol comes, as it will,
they'll search the house from top to bottom.
I see only one hiding place,
between the mattresses.
If we pull the middle one out,
we can make a space beside the wall.
But he'll suffocate!
Let's try it.
Your idea is no good. The bed looks rumpled.
It's suspicious. They'll want to inspect it.
If I lie in it myself,
they won't think anyone is hiding there.
Quick, let's not wait for Nanon.
Help me undress.
Good night, Justin.
Who is it?
Pulchérie.
Wait.
All I found was some bread and paté.
Some warm wine is coming.
That Champcenetz, what nerve! He almost had us hanged,
or guillotined, as they do now.
I'd love to see his scrawny head roll!
I'll watch from the front row!
- Forgive me Madame, but... - I know.
Your son?
I saw him. He's alive.
God be praised!
He spared us that sorrow, at least.
The patrol!
Go and see.
Can you hear? They're coming.
Are you suffocating?
Not if I lie on my side.
Does it make a bigger hump?
Not if I rearrange the sheet.
It's hot.
It makes sense if I push it aside.
Can you breathe?
But I'm hot.
My God! Here they come.
They've all come in.
The municipal officers want to see Madame.
Let them come in and search. I've nothing to hide.
Won't you get up?
No, I'm too weary.
Come in, then!
What is this?
House search, citizen.
By order of the Commune.
You're suspected of harboring Mr. Champcenetz.
He came here after 11 o'clock, but I showed him out.
We'll see. Please get up.
Must I?
Well, not necessarily.
Not before so many men.
If they'll kindly leave, I'll oblige.
Very well. About turn!
Isn't she pretty?
I'll help her dress!
- I'll take her feet! - Let me see!
Silence!
Stand back!
The lady is English.
Don't be a disgrace to the Nation.
Get out!
I'm all a tremble.
Your visit frightened me.
But now that I see how kind, obliging and considerate you are,
and knowing I'm innocent,
I am not the least alarmed.
I shall arise and take you in person around the house.
No need, citizen.
No one we've seen tonight has been half so civil.
Stay in bed.
I'll be careful with your furnishings.
You, search the room.
You, look upstairs. You, search the gardens.
How are you, sweetheart?
Hands off!
How about it?
What are you up to?
Out!
You won't find him. Madame threw him out.
You can believe Pulchérie.
You know her devotion to the people.
She'll tell you how I received him and sent him away directly.
Madame was outraged by his impudence.
Would she harbor so great a foe of the Duke?
Why didn't you have him arrested at once?
Though I dislike him, I won't denounce anybody.
Then you're a bad citizen.
A patriot's duty is to inform on criminals.
Anyway, we'll find him before tomorrow.
We're wasting our time here.
Good night, citizen Elliott.
Let's go, quick!
Will that be all, Madame?
Certainly. Good night, Pulchérie.
Who is it?
Nanon, Madame.
Come in.
They've gone.
Thank heaven!
It's over, Madame, don't worry.
I know.
Lock the door, quick!
He was here!
And you dared! Heavens!
I'm glad I didn't know!
What courage!
And how daring of you to offer to get up!
What if they had accepted?
They did not.
But I deserve no credit.
It is true, I was feeling doomed,
but hearing you groan beneath the mattress
I suddenly recovered my wits
and God gave me more courage than I ever had before.
When I accepted without much thought
the task Madame Meyler asked of me,
I had no idea it would be so perilous.
I naively hoped I would be helping...
forgive me, Sir...
a closer friend than you.
I confess that when the patrol arrived,
I briefly regretted not having granted your wish
and abandoned you to your fate.
But under the threat of those wretches
and the imminence of danger, I felt a sort of exaltation
which was almost supernatural.
Rather than escape the peril, I felt the urge to confront it
together with all the innocent victims of today's barbarians.
I suddenly felt ashamed of not sharing their fate.
The horror of all the atrocities I've seen today
is so strong that surely
I'd have been glad to climb the scaffold.
If you died,
I would have died with you.
By losing the fear of death
I saved myself, and you as well.
Move into my boudoir.
Marquis?
Can you hear me?
Feel him.
Such fever!
If he dies, what will we do?
Don't talk nonsense!
Give him some quinine powder.
See who it is.
His Highness, Madame.
Ask him to wait until I'm dressed.
I'm coming.
Justin, show him in.
I've come for news. I heard you returned last night.
Please forgive my disarray...
I know how busy you are.
I wouldn't ask you to wait.
It takes me so long to get dressed.
I must look dreadful.
No, you just look worn out.
Are you sick?
I didn't sleep.
The police paid me a call in the middle of the night.
I barely avoided getting up naked in front of forty men.
But their leader, Jacobin though he was,
had not forgotten his manners.
Revolutionaries are not savages.
If you're hiding no one, you have nothing to fear.
But if you were to hide someone,
you would be putting yourself
in grave danger.
No, I wasn't lucky enough to rescue anyone
from last night's horrors.
I must say I wish I had,
even at my own peril.
If only these dreadful scenes
could cure the admirers of this hideous Revolution!
These scenes are terrible indeed.
But in all revolutions, much blood has been spilt
and once begun, it cannot readily be stopped.
Nothing compares
in atrocity
with what I saw yesterday coming from Meudon,
the head
of Madame de Lamballe,
borne on a stake by a raging mob.
I saw it too.
My poor sister-in-law's head was brought to me
as I was dining at Palais-Royal!
This horror is unforgivable.
What harm had she done?
As much as I dislike the Queen, I was very fond of the Princess.
Don't you believe me?
I do.
I believe you did everything to prevent these murders
to no avail.
You thought you'd lead the Revolution
but it is leading you where you never wanted to go.
That's true,
but we must look further ahead.
The Revolution will be of great use and benefit to our children
although it's terrible for us to witness.
I wish you had remained in England when you were there.
I would have liked to.
I've always envied the life of an English country gentleman.
While my enemies taxed me with wishing to be king,
I would willingly exchange my lot and all my fortune
for a small estate in England
and the privileges of that delightful country,
which I hope to see again.
Why not go back there?
Despite the awkwardness of my position here,
do you think me perverse enough
to go through the streets of Paris these days
and not feel the deepest distress?
Nevertheless,
two years ago,
when La Fayette, whom I mistook for a patriot
- as all Frenchmen did -
urged me to leave France for a while,
I told him my life was devoted to serving my country
and I could only leave my seat at the Assembly
for a position more useful
to the Nation.
My friend,
I know you're a good man, even too good,
and you let yourself be misled by the semblance of friendship.
But pray go no further!
It is not too late to break loose from the rabble.
Don't let them use your name to commit their loathsome deeds.
All this seems easy to do in your drawing room.
I wish it were so simple in reality.
But...
I am swept along in the torrent, irresistibly.
I am no longer master of my name or my person.
You can be no judge of my situation
which is unpleasant, I assure you.
For God's sake,
keep your political opinions to yourself.
Plague me no more on this subject, it will be of no use.
I must take my leave.
I'll call again tomorrow morning on my way to the Assembly.
You look very ill.
Should I send my physician?
No, thank you.
I just had a bad night.
You look better.
The quinine is taking effect.
You overheard us?
I could not help it.
Don't apologize.
With respect, I'm surprised you didn't tell the truth.
The Duke seemed well disposed.
He might have spared you the danger of hiding me
by letting me escape over his garden wall.
I needed your consent.
The Duke will be back tomorrow. I'll speak to him.
You seem very preoccupied.
Have there been more horrors?
I know nothing. I was in Monceau.
But I shall hear news at the Assembly.
I hope the Royal Family is well
and decently treated in that horrid Temple prison.
I believe so,
although I'm sure they wouldn't pity me
if I were in an even worse situation.
How can they keep the poor monarch in prison?
He broke his oath to the Nation.
A worthless oath!
Those people believe in neither God nor Devil.
I myself feel far guiltier than Louis.
He has done nothing.
What have you done?
I'm hiding someone.
Yesterday, you assured me...
Who?
The governor of the Tuileries.
What?
Champcenetz?
Poor woman, there's no greater crime today!
He can't get out of Paris.
He'll be discovered. You'll both be executed!
Can't you let him out through your garden?
It's surrounded by troops.
Dear Grace, you're risking your life for a miserable cause.
Champcenetz is a good-for-nothing!
He treated me like an ungrateful oaf.
You once gave him command of a regiment.
Against the Queen's wishes.
She wanted it for one of her dependants.
She thought a prince's regiment should go to a man of the highest rank.
Not to a recent nobleman, like your protégé!
I enjoyed annoying her. I did!
Far from being grateful,
he sided with my adversaries.
I'd rather you rescued someone else,
not that miserable creature!
Champcenetz would give anything
to see you and implore your pardon.
It would be most unwise of me to meet him.
My people would find out.
You could see him without a single person knowing
except my chambermaid.
I must hurry to the Assembly.
I deeply regret leaving you
in the danger into which your folly has led you.
I'll try to see how I can get this man out,
but please keep your politics to yourself.
Would to God you were safely in England!
I fear much for your safety here.
The Duke hates me.
He's gone to have me arrested.
He would doom me, too.
He will let me out only to turn me in.
If you get out, I'll see you're brought to safety.
How will you know?
The Duke is trustworthy.
Good day, Sir. Please sit down.
How are you, Madame?
There's color in your cheeks again.
The mere effect of sleep.
Will you have some tea?
I prefer your port wine.
You shouldn't have any.
After such confinement, you seem weak and sickly.
Broth would suit you better.
That might arouse my cook's suspicions.
Your Highness,
you are goodness itself.
I must have seemed ungrateful.
I meant to explain my behavior.
Mr. De Champcenetz, no explanations.
We'll not discuss the past or anything other
than the predicament of this excellent person
who is risking her life to save yours.
She is unwell.
I fear you are both in extreme danger.
I would help you for her sake,
but I fear it may not be possible.
You and I must forget that we met before,
for we shall never meet in the future.
I hope I will never hear your name again.
Long ago,
I formed my opinion of you.
I'm very annoyed that you can't leave here,
for I shan't relax while you're under this roof.
I've said enough.
As soon as the barriers were open, I took Champcenetz to Meudon...
Some time later...
From the Duke of Orleans.
"The mail coach that calls at Saint Denis
"will take your protégé to Boulogne for 50 louis.
"I enclose a note to the landlord of the Pavillon Royal in St. Denis.
"Your affectionate friend,
Orleans."
Some years later, I learned that Champcenetz got safely to England.
In mid-January, the Duke de Biron asked me to tell his fortune.
Why bother reading cards?
What can you hope from these terrible times?
You asked me to tell your fortune.
You didn't believe me last time.
I did.
Some of your words came true
before I went to war.
But you ignored them.
I wish the Duke
and yourself had taken my words more seriously.
The King would have kept his crown
and you would still be living in peace and joy
instead of spending your life in hiding
without a house or carriage for shelter.
I'm not reduced to that.
Why are you in Paris now
without a home, forced to stay in a hotel?
To clear my name before the Minister of War.
Clear your name?
Of accusations brought against me
by one Rossignol, a revolutionary general
under my command.
You naively hope to be believed instead of him?
I'm as good a Republican as he.
I shall convincingly refute the allegations of this madman.
He took part in the September massacres.
On the contrary, in this day and age,
that is his best credential
in the eyes of those who dare to judge their king.
The King's trial is the cruelest,
most abominable act ever known.
What surprises me most
is that not a single French chevalier
had the courage to set the Convention on fire,
burn all the monsters sitting inside
and release the King and Queen from prison.
It saddens me as much as you, but have no fear,
at worst, the King will be incarcerated
until things settle down.
Indeed, some of the Convention will vote for his death, but...
it's a comfort to know that the Duke will not vote.
I have his word for it.
What I wish
is that he would vote to free the King.
That's not possible.
He'll never do it.
We must be thankful that he will abstain, lest,
if the King were banished,
he might incite foreign powers to invade France
with all the consequences.
Worse things could happen!
Those consequences scare me less
than the thought of the Duke voting to incarcerate the King.
Would that I could convince him!
I'd give my life
to spare him that dishonor.
I've tried to make him see the error of his ways.
He seemed persuaded,
but he keeps going back to that Madame de Buffon
who took my place in his heart
and follows the politics of Laclos and Merlin.
Will you grant me a favor?
May I meet the Duke here tomorrow?
When I see him at Madame de Buffon's,
he's never alone
and I cannot speak my heart to him.
Of course.
I'm expecting him tomorrow at two o'clock. Come then.
My respects, Madame.
I rarely see you these days.
Politics occupy... and preoccupy me.
I'll come straight to the point.
What is your view of this wicked trial at the Convention?
Will you sit with those miscreants?
As a deputy, I must.
How can you sit there
and see your king and cousin
dragged before that gathering of ruffians
who dare to insult him with their interrogations?
I wish I could be at the Convention
to hurl my shoes at the President and Santerre!
Restrain yourself, Madame!
I know my duty and need no advice.
I hope that's true,
and you'll vote for the King's release.
Certainly,
and for my own death!
The Duke will not vote.
The King mistreated him all his life,
but he is his cousin.
He'll feign illness and stay at home
on the day of the vote to decide the King's fate.
Then, Highness,
I am sure you won't attend the Convention that day.
I beg you, don't.
On my word of honor, I won't.
Although...
I feel the King was guilty of lying to the Nation,
nothing can induce me, as his relative,
to vote against him.
A meager consolation.
I see no other.
Please excuse me.
In these circumstances
I have little time for myself...
and my friends.
We'll meet this evening.
I see our poor prince
is in such a predicament that he'll need all his courage
of which he has plenty
contrary to some people's suggestions.
I do not doubt it either, but...
let me be frank.
The Duke is very kind,
and of the best character,
but no one is less fit to lead a powerful party.
Neither his upbringing
nor his brains
nor his talents equip him for such high office.
You, his seditious friends,
with your flattery, have harmed him.
Who gave him the foolish idea of being elected to the Convention?
He is not a gifted orator.
They've nicknamed him the Mute Deputy.
It is my turn to take my leave.
Since the army has temporarily discharged me,
may I invite you to my hotel on Saturday evening
with Madame Laurent and General Dumouriez?
We can follow the vote
which I hope will be merciful.
Your Girondin friends
are deserting the King.
Will you go with them?
Listen, Madame.
I know there are rumors in Paris
that I, General Dumouriez, am wavering from side to side.
No.
I am perfectly neutral.
I act as a soldier.
My duty is to serve the army
in every way I can. One way is to delay this trial
which is less iniquitous than you think.
Don't say that.
It's an abomination. Must I be the only one to say it?
With due respect,
it's not so much iniquitous as useless.
Instead of disputing the King's fate,
this precious time should have been used
to prepare the next campaign. My arguments support yours.
Yours are very cold.
To theJacobins, cold reason
weighs infinitely more
than the warmth of your love and pity.
Even if it's true that Louis is a lying rascal,
which most deputies believe,
we'd be fools to behead him.
By foreseeing the worst,
one can avoid it.
A death sentence would have the same effect on our neighbors
as the Brunswick Manifesto had on our countrymen.
We must not alarm Europe.
We must win the people over with gentleness,
not drive them away with terror.
That's why I came back to Paris,
to persuade the Convention to change its policy.
The Duke of Orleans entered the Convention at eight o'clock.
He will vote for incarceration.
Good heavens!
I fear worse yet.
So far, there's no majority for death.
Let's hope.
Majority for death,
including the Duke's vote.
His too?
He swore to me...
He said,
"Thinking only of my duty,
"convinced that all who violate the people's will should die,
"I vote for death."
361 votes in favor,
360 against.
He tipped the balance.
No. You must add
26 votes for conditional death.
Counting them will make...
I'm ashamed to wear this. The Nation has disgraced itself.
Let the Republic find the defenders it deserves!
The Republic has better things to do than take revenge on its princes
and suspect its generals.
If it condemns us,
who will defend it?
I never thought much of Orleans.
Now that he has blood on his hands,
my scorn has turned to rightful loathing.
I weep for his children.
In them, I see as many virtues as he has vices.
His cowardice will get him nowhere.
He's in jeopardy like the rest of us,
free spirits who strove for the Revolution in its early days.
He won't even have the satisfaction of saving his own honor
along with the Revolution's.
We will have no choice
but to seek asylum with the enemy.
What?
You're willing to betray France?
What France?
This ragbag of power-hungry scoundrels?
Get me the large basket from the wardrobe.
Get rid of these clothes and jewels.
I don't care how. Get them out of my sight.
What is it, Madame? The Duke?
He voted for the King's death.
If he had not, Louis might have been saved.
Death?
Yes. He went to the Convention
not to save his cousin but to doom him.
I've never felt so repelled by anyone as he repels me today.
I cannot tolerate to have around me
anything that once belonged to him.
Having belonged to him myself, I cannot bear myself.
Without God and my faith to support me...
Tomorrow morning, pack my trunks
while I get a travel permit.
We'll go to Meudon.
The day the King died was the saddest I ever saw.
The day the King died was the saddest I ever saw.
Even the clouds seemed to mourn.
Meudon is on a hill.
With a spyglass one could see Place Louis XV.
There are people there.
Many?
Yes. The crowds are everywhere.
I don't want to see.
Are there soldiers?
I think so. I see blue and red.
Are they moving?
- Who? - I don't know.
The soldiers, the crowd.
They're all standing still.
Did you hear that?
What's happening?
The people are rebelling!
God be praised!
What can you see?
Nothing.
It looks as if...
What was that?
I don't know.
I know.
And so do you. Come, let's not stay here.
I don't think it is possible to feel a family misfortune
as sharply as I feel the King's death.
Yet, as you see, my eyes are dry.
I wept too much beforehand.
I'll never weep again,
not even over my own death which will be soon.
Your death, Madame?
May God preserve and protect you
as He did the other night.
God works in mysterious ways.
Now, all we can do is pray.
About six weeks after the King's death, I fell very ill...
About six weeks after the King's death, I fell very ill...
The patrol!
Again?
Can't they leave me in peace?
I shan't get up, but I want to see the officer.
Bring him in here.
Greetings, citizen.
Pray what is going on?
House search, by order.
I've been searched twice already this week.
For what? There's nothing here.
The other patrols were from Meudon and Sèvres.
We're from Versailles and more thorough, believe me.
Nobody fools us.
Nor the others.
I have no wish to fool anyone.
I'm a good citizen and no conspirator.
We shall see. We heard you're hiding flour.
There's a pound of it left in the kitchen.
Please be quick.
Permit me not to accompany you. As you see, I am ill.
We'll manage by ourselves. Good health, citizen!
They've gone. Madame can sleep.
What are they after? I wish I knew.
In fact, I know.
Nothing. They're just vying to outdo each other.
Bring me my writing box.
It's nearly midnight.
You need sleep.
I'll sleep in the morning
while you take this letter to the doctor.
Would you please
be kind enough
to inform the Duke
that I am feeling better
and in answer
to his invitation,
I intend
to visit him
at Palais-Royal
the day after tomorrow.
You look puzzled.
Don't think I've forgiven him, but...
he sends me such endearing letters daily,
I can't help softening towards him.
He sent me his physician.
He keeps entreating me to visit him as soon as I am well.
I owe it to him.
Besides, I have no choice.
I don't want to die for nothing.
When I rescued Champcenetz, my life didn't matter.
But I don't want to be guillotined on grounds of mere suspicion.
Suspicion of what? Dear God!
Until now, I never wanted to leave France.
I had made it...
my adopted country.
I made its King
my King.
Now that he is no more, I shall return to my England.
The Duke alone has the power to procure me a passport.
He owes me that
for ignoring my advice and acting as a criminal.
Now he can redeem himself a little.
You're chilled to the bone.
Would you like some tea to warm you?
For now, just a glass of water.
It's warm in here.
Take a seat.
You look unwell.
I hope you have fully recovered from your cold.
Yes, I'm over it.
But it upsets me to see you after what happened last month.
Your black clothes remind me of those terrible events.
You are mourning
the King's death like me, I presume.
I'm mourning my father-in-law, the Duke of Penthièvre.
His death was doubtless hastened by the King's.
Or was it by the cruel way in which the trial was held
and your vote for his death?
I dare say he died of heartbreak
as I shall.
But your Highness will die like the poor King
on the scaffold.
Lord, what a state you're in!
I certainly would not have begged you to come
had I remotely suspected it.
The King was sentenced and he is gone.
I could not stop his death.
My vote was not decisive!
- There were other votes... - I know.
But you promised not to vote.
This is a dismal topic.
You cannot, you must notjudge me.
I know my position.
I could not avoid doing what I did.
I may be more pitiable than you can imagine.
More than anyone in France, I'm the slave of a faction.
But let's change the subject.
Things could not be worse.
I want you safe in England.
But how to get you out of France? I have no idea.
If money can buy a passport,
I will pay £500 sterling.
It's all I can do for you now.
Rulers like money,
that's what gives me hope.
I'll try to approach their ringleaders.
But Robespierre, the "Incorruptible"
whom I never see, is all-powerful.
Your archenemy, I hear.
I have every reason to think so, although...
two months ago,
when he was planning to have me exiled,
he said I had not been an unworthy citizen.
My exile would not be a punishment
but a precaution.
Then he won't be displeased to see you leave France.
It would be your wisest move.
Don't you believe it.
They didn't reprieve me from exile just to see me leave voluntarily,
or help my friends to leave.
Don't try to fathom the depths of our politicians' minds.
Will you take tea with me now?
Will you be dining in the country?
At my house in Paris.
I'll keep the fires lit for a few days.
I shall avoid returning to Meudon.
The patrols from Versailles
and Sèvres are harassing me.
Then stay in Paris, although I fear you won't be treated better here.
I am told you were very reckless during the Revolution.
Be careful from now on!
Keep your thoughts to yourself.
Wear black for the King if you want to, by God,
but say you are mourning a relative
or you'll be in worse trouble than I can get you out of.
I'd rather you stayed in the country
until you can obtain a passport to England.
Personally, I wish I'd never left.
Now I'll never see England again.
I'll call in a few days to report on my progress.
Take a seat, Highness.
I am not staying.
I only came to tell you
to forget about the passport.
I've done all I could
but I was told by a person in authority, whom I cannot name,
that you must not apply for one or even mention England.
You must bear your misfortune like the others
and keep quiet.
I fear your house will be searched in the next few days.
I advise you to dispose of any incriminating papers.
In late March or early April, when General Dumouriez fled France...
In late March or early April, when General Dumouriez fled France...
The Duke, Madame. With two gendarmes.
Two gendarmes?
How now?
What's going on?
What is the meaning of your escort?
I'm not escorted by choice.
It was decided by the powers that be.
Are you under arrest?
Not quite, yet.
But news has come that Dumouriez,
whose adjutant is my son, the Duke of Chartres,
refuses to obey the Convention's orders.
So he's joining the enemy?
What else can he do except march on Paris?
His troops wouldn't follow.
So my "escort" is due to my son!
I left you a letter he wrote me
blaming me for the King's death.
You'd be wise to return it to me.
It will endanger you instead.
Have no fear.
I don't know why I left it with you.
It dishonors me and could have imperiled you.
I advise you to burn all correspondence, however harmless,
that you may have put aside.
Whether you like it or not,
I approve of your son's outspoken defense of Louis.
I prefer to be reproached by you than by him.
You're an incorrigible royalist,
but...
my son's defection,
which some call treason,
undoes all our family's efforts to support the Revolution.
The Revolution itself annihilated them.
I am left with nothing.
No family, no friends.
I shall remain alone for a short while.
If I must perish,
I shall go willingly,
disavowing none of my words, deeds or thoughts,
if you don't mind.
I don't only mind,
I am desolate!
I loved you and I still love you.
I hope God loves you
and I pray for you as I hope you would for me.
Prayers would save neither of us, I fear.
Perhaps not in this world, but in the next.
I doubt the Supreme Being is on the side of tyrants.
He is not on the side of perjurers!
Enough of this.
It's too late to philosophize.
Dear Grace, I love you. I want you to be happy.
I firmly believe that if I die, you will survive.
I am concerned about the money you invested in my affairs.
I will take steps to ensure that after my death
the income will be paid to you in England.
So my demise will not ruin you.
Stop talking like this!
Who knows which of us will die first?
I shall.
I hope so, for your sake and mine.
Since nobody loves me any more, why go on living? Adieu.
Prince,
despite everything,
remember that I love you.
That evening
The guards are here.
Show them in.
Citizen Elliott,
the citizen-president of the Roule Section
has ordered us to inspect your papers.
My papers? Do you mean...
Every piece of writing. Especially letters to you.
Are they locked away?
Some are.
- The keys are... - Leave it to the guard!
Search the writing desk.
You three, inspect the room.
Search every drawer!
The rest of you, follow me.
Those are personal. But you may read them.
I've nothing to hide.
In English, I suppose!
I don't speak it.
I can translate.
We'll find an interpreter.
Wrap them up.
You there!
Bring that writing box.
Put it here.
No doubt it has secret compartments.
And what is this?
- A letter. - I realize that.
It is sealed and not addressed to you.
How does it come to be in your possession?
It was sent to me from Naples.
Why was it sent via you?
Gentlemen, as you ought to know,
Naples was blockaded by the French fleet
under Admiral Latouche-Tréville.
It was sent to me by his courier.
No matter!
As you ought to know, citizen,
England is at war with us.
Corresponding with the Republic's enemies
is an offense punishable by the guillotine!
We have long been suspicious of you.
Now here is the undeniable proof.
Have no doubt, your fate will soon be settled.
What are you saying?
Mr. Fox is your friend.
He's in correspondence with the Surveillance Committee.
Don't confuse him with Mr. Pitt,
the Prime Minister, your sworn enemy.
Mr. Fox is a liberal.
The Committee will decide.
Anyway, we have orders to arrest you tonight.
Citizen Grace Georgina Elliott,
in the name of the Republic, I arrest you.
Let me at least take a few clothes.
Be quick!
Fetch me my warmest shawl.
Sit there.
Shapely wench!
Drink this, it'll warm you up.
It's no Burgundy, but you can't be choosy now
with no more dukes or princes to protect you.
Without protection, the party's over.
Answer when you're spoken to!
My protection is my conscience. I've done no wrong.
If you hadn't conspired, you wouldn't be here...
About to dance on Place Louis XV.
We'll watch you.
It'll be a pretty sight, my sweet.
You won't get away.
The guillotine! Ever heard of it?
Good invention, eh?
That's progress.
Makes nice music.
Just three little notes...
Scared, aren't you!
A new dance to learn, my pretty!
The steps are easy.
I'm not afraid. I'm innocent.
You're not my judges! Leave me be!
Leave her alone! Don't answer them, citizen.
I have the right to say I'm innocent.
If your only charge against me is Mr. Fox's letter,
I'll surely be acquitted.
If you broke the seal and read it,
you'd see it was sent not to an enemy of Liberty
but to a good patriot.
Why didn't you read it to us?
Shut up!
I don't want to open it.
I cannot. It was entrusted to me.
The Committee will decide.
Take your time!
It's nicer out than in!
Stay here.
The lavatory's over there behind the buffet.
I managed to find you a chair, citizen.
For me? Why show me such favor?
It was my idea.
I've always thought you were a good citizen.
My sister Roseline is your lace-maker.
I see!
I am here because of a dreadful misunderstanding.
Then you'll soon be free.
Please use this chair, ladies.
It was brought for you, Madame.
You have the privilege of age
and you were here before me.
We've stood so far. We can remain standing.
Let's take turns sitting.
When I'm tired of standing, I'll tell you.
Please, you go first.
I accept.
My poor legs are so swollen,
I fear they will burst.
Aren't you the Duchess of Grammont?
And you, the Duchess of Chatelet?
I am.
And who are you?
If we ever get out of here, we must meet again.
I see you're persecuted for the right cause.
My name is Grace Elliott.
I thought so.
Abbé de Damas often told me
of how you risked your life to help a fugitive
and of the good advice you gave an unfortunate prince.
You look very light.
Why don't you sit on my lap?
I must be heavy.
Light as a feather.
And you smell so good!
It shields me from the filthy stench in here.
It's my secret.
A small lavender bag
that my chambermaid thoughtfully gave me this morning.
Follow me.
Quick.
God be with you.
You too.
"It's a joy to see
"how, little by little,
"the holy guillotine will deliver us
"from all the human flesh-eaters."
Follow me.
Not you.
Prince! All is well with you, I hope.
By God, Grace! It's you? I am very sorry indeed.
What has befallen you?
And you?
Is he going to prison?
No, to Palais-Royal. Until further notice.
You heard what he said to her?
Yes. Very suspicious.
Next.
Please be seated.
Citizen Elliott,
Georgina Grace,
née Dalrymple.
What has she done?
She's an Englishwoman residing on Rue Miromesnil.
We found this letter in her house.
From one Englishman to another.
It is unopened.
What is in it?
I have no idea at all.
I was asked to forward it to Mr. Fox.
A blatant case of conspiracy.
I know the woman. She's a royalist.
She plotted in England to wed Orleans' daughter to an English prince.
Send her to the Force prison!
Citizen Chabot, I find you somewhat hasty.
Why was this person arrested
for having a letter to Mr. Fox in her house?
Had it been to that rascal Pitt, you couldn't have treated her worse.
Mr. Fox is our friend, the friend of a free world.
He loves our Revolution.
Then, citizen Vergniaud, let's open the letter to make sure.
No. It is needless and improper.
Is it honorable to read a private letter to a great man?
It shan't be done.
We'll send the letter intact to Mr. Fox.
No. It must be opened and read.
I agree.
Do you?
No.
Yes.
Likewise.
Latouche-Tréville's manifesto.
It's in English.
Our interpreter is inspecting papers in a suburb of St. Germain.
We cannot wait for him.
Citizen Elliott,
please come forward and translate for us.
Don't cheat!
We know enough English to tell if you're lying.
Here's our interpreter. Sit down.
Translate this from the beginning.
"I enclose within this missive
"the manifesto from Admiral Latouche-Tréville
"to the King of Naples.
"I cannot help but admire
"the bravery and energy of the French nation at this time.
"I share your belief
"that the French Revolution
"is one of the world's most glorious events.
"Human rights are the true foundation
"of every rational constitution,
"as they are of England's own Constitution.
"The war in America
"has taught us that a people's uprising
"is never spurious."
What about that?
Isn't it magnificent?
Wasn't I right?
Citizen,
accept our apologies.
You may go.
You must be very tired.
One of the Committee's carriages will drive you home.
I can hardly stand up after spending two horrid nights
in sordid, brutal conditions.
The people of your section were overzealous. They've wasted our time.
Citizen! A few more questions, if I may.
Do you know citizen d'Orleans, also known as Egalité?
Did you speak with him in the waiting room just now?
I only asked him how he was.
What, pray, did he say?
He said,
"By God, I am sorry to see you here."
He was afraid you'd be questioned about him
and would betray him.
I was examined and found innocent.
Please let me go!
This is a different charge.
As a Committee member,
I can indict you as Orleans' accomplice.
God, will this never end?
Tears do not move us.
The tears shed in this room could supply all of Paris with water.
Orleans wanted to be king and overthrow the Republic.
I'm sure he didn't.
You know he did!
That's why he voted for the King's death.
With all my heart, I wish he hadn't.
He could be happy now.
Then why did he vote?
Because you made him commit that ghastly crime.
You call it a crime?
It's reckless of you to say so here,
in front of 50 Convention members
who all voted the tyrant Capet dead
not to become kings, but to rid the world of his vile race!
Now we'll deal with the would-be king
and admirer of England,
that graveyard of Liberty with which he connives,
and you too! You won't escape me.
Take her to prison! She must be tried!
You're going too far.
She's been tried.
She's Mr. Fox's friend.
She can't have plotted.
There's no proof at all.
What is this din? What's going on?
Citizen Robespierre,
they won't let me arrest this Englishwoman,
a friend of Orleans and a conspirator.
Has she been heard?
And acquitted.
On another charge, and wrongly so.
She was found with a letter to Charles Fox, our friend.
What was in it?
It praises the actions of our fleet in Naples.
We have more important business.
Let her go home.
There's time to decide.
It's six o'clock.
Is it morning or evening?
Morning. Madame has slept since yesterday afternoon.
I can get up
although I'm not quite rested.
Did Madame see the letter on her nightstand?
The Duke sent it yesterday. I didn't dare wake you.
He says he's coming at noon.
But I have to leave for Meudon.
I'll send him word to come... when I return tonight at eight.
Justin can deliver it.
I couldn't deliver it.
I went to Palais-Royal.
The Duke was arrested this morning.
In his bed, at 4 a.m.
Throw it in the fire.
Wait!
Hang the Duke's portrait back on the wall.
Philippe d'Orleans was escorted to Fort St. Jean in Marseilles
and then back to Paris to be executed on November 5th.
By then, Grace Elliott was under arrest.
While her fellow captives' heads rolled,
she awaited her turn, which did not come.
The fall of Robespierre set her free.
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