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Manon of the Spring

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Next time I won't pay this much.
The competition from Italy is killing me.
This barely pays for the fertilizer.
Next year we'll grow chick-peas.
I'll miss having drinks with friends like you.
What's all this barking about?
I won't steal your herd.
Move over.
Leave me my bread!
Here, we'll share my lunch.
Well, now what will I eat?
Go on, move.
Bernard, what did you do today?
I explored the hill.
Look what I found.
Lignites. This area is full of them.
Very interesting.
And I saw some unattended goats.
Must be the hunchback's daughter's herd.
I haven't seen the little savage since her dad died.
She hides from us.
I've seen her. She's beautiful.
Her mother was a real beauty.
That hunchback hatched a lovely daughter.
Who was he?
You didn't know him.
It was before you moved here.
He was a city intellectual who played at being a farmer.
He was a nut.
He wasn't all that nutty.
I didn't say he was an idiot.
He just wasn't practical.
He tried breeding rabbits by multiplying numbers on paper.
Why? Because he had no water.
But you found some. Your carnations are doing well.
On holidays, mostly Christmas and Mardi Gras.
Easter is good too.
And the dead. Aren't they good business?
Not bad. Funerals bring good income.
Let's go. Hurry up!
Here's a letter.
My darling...
Tonight we're doing Aida in Bordeaux.
I sing a small role, but I'm thrilled.
If only you were with me, I'd be truly happy.
Your loving mother.
You can't stay here forever.
You should go join your mother.
No hare or rabbit or partridge in sight.
Maybe I'm going deaf and blind.
Next time I'll bring the butcher's dog.
That hare won't get away!
Do you know it's fiive o'clock?
That's some nap.
I think I got sunstroke.
No, you're not red.
You must be needing sleep.
Come outside.
She can't hear, but she guesses everything.
What I'll say to you concerns only us two.
You're past 30, and you're the last of the Soubeyrans.
I know all that.
Don't interrupt!
If I keep saying it, it's your fault.
I'll say it until you understand.
We Soubeyrans were this region's most important family.
On Grandpa's birthday...
There were 30 of you.
All Soubeyrans, with cans of gold hidden throughout the house.
Everyone respected us.
It didn't last, but don't blame me. That's fate.
There's no such thing as fate.
Good-for-nothings always blame fate!
It was the fault of our elders.
Because of pride and greed, they married among themselves.
Cousins married cousins.
An uncle married his niece.
That's bad for rabbits, and not good for people.
What's the result?
Two madwomen and three suicides.
Now there's only us two.
I don't count anymore.
So you're what's left of the Soubeyrans.
You want me to marry.
Why didn't you take a wife?
I wasn't cut out for it.
Mind you, I almost did...
but it didn't work out.
I joined the army in Africa, on a whim...
and when I came back...
If there had been a child, I'd gladly have married her.
But it didn't happen.
I'm like Anglade's cherry tree.
Many blossoms, but never any fruit.
So I should marry instead of you.
You have to, Galinette.
But why? Why?
You're asking me why?
What about the Soubeyran fortune?
It's not banknotes that rats eat.
It's gold!
Cans full of gold coins. Understand?
And I own them!
That's from savings, skimping and hard work.
You'd throw it all out?
Of course not. I love gold.
Then don't leave it without an owner.
You can't ask me to start a family just like that.
I've asked you for ten years.
But not as seriously as today.
Besides, I have my own ideas.
You have someone in mind?
Won't you tell me who?
Listen, I was in the sun all day.
I feel woozy.
I'll tell you, but be patient.
Fine. I like you, Galinette.
Just one more thing.
In choosing a wife, think of the children.
What do you mean?
Don't be enticed by a pretty face.
What we need is wide hips, long legs...
and nice, big tits.
It's like choosing a brood mare.
What if she's also pretty?
If it's also, I won't mind.
On the contrary...
she'd be the Soubeyran beauty.
I'd enjoy looking at her.
Over here, Noe! Come!
Why is it always my turn? The water is for everyone.
Cleaning the basin twice a year won't kill you.
This red sand and the dead leaves.
People need clean water.
So do vegetables.
This is strange.
Looks like clay, but it's not.
it's bauxite powder.
A mixture of iron and aluminum.
Where does it come from?
From the spring, after big storms.
It settles here...
and never reaches the fountain.
After a rainy night...
my spring water turns red and the stones look rusty.
It is rust, since it's iron oxide.
Then it can't hurt.
No. It's actually good.
Where's your spring in relation to this basin?
What do you mean?
Is it higher up or below?
That's hard to say.
The Romarins valley is above here.
Then the village water comes from the same valley.
It's ten o'clock.
I promised they'd have water by noon!
That's two hours away.
But it takes an hour before it reaches the village.
I enjoy your company, but I must report to the mayor.
Don't keep him waiting, teacher.
Someone's throwing stones!
Wasn't that lightning?
You saw lightning? You must have started drinking real early.
I swear I drank only coffee this morning.
That's my knife.
I lost it a few days ago.
- Around here? - No. I haven't been here before.
That's strange.
The shepherdess returned it to you.
- Where is she? - What shepherdess?
- You mean Manon? - The hunchback's Manon. Who else?
Is she hiding here?
No, she ran away.
Too bad. I wanted to thank her.
Some other time.
Thank her with a little kiss.
I don't know her, but I dreamt about her.
In my dream, I even kissed her.
Did she let you?
In my dreams, women don't resist me.
Aren't you eating?
I'm not hungry.
You haven't looked well lately.
I've lost my appetite.
Probably from that poison.
What poison?
The one I spray on my carnations...
to kill the red spiders.
I'll do it for you.
No. It has to be done at night.
Daylight is no good for it.
It weakens it.
It kills its effectiveness.
You work nights, but you don't sleep days.
You're never home. What do you do all day?
I hunt.
I walk around on the hill.
I breathe in the fresh air...
to clean out my lungs...
- from that poison. - That's true.
It's good for the carnations, but bad for you.
Still, you should eat and sleep.
Want a doctor?
No. I'll be all right.
See? I'm eating.
She's going to Aubagne to sell my birds.
He's nuts.
Who is it?
It's me!
Yes, you're going crazy.
- Who is the woman? - What woman?
The one you visit in Aubagne.
I've watched you for days.
You keep collecting birds. What for?
I see you prancing and talking to yourself as if you're crazy!
Are you in love?
That's a good sickness.
Who is she?
You won't tell me.
Then she's either a tramp...
or she's married.
That's it! She's married!
She's married!
Open up!
No, I won't!
- We can talk through the door. - Why?
If I don't see you, I might tell you.
You're as dopey as your poor mother.
Now, tell me.
I don't want to tell you anything.
Ask me questions.
Tell me who she is.
I won't tell you that.
A city girl?
Quite the opposite.
Even better.
Do I know her?
Actually, no.
What does that mean?
You're too clever. After four questions, you'll know.
- Then... I do know her. - See? I don't want to tell you.
You act like a cop, but I won't tell you.
Why not?
It's my secret.
My fiirst love secret, and I'm keeping it.
Keep it. I'm leaving. Good-bye.
No! Stay!
I want to talk about her.
I don't even know who she is.
But I do, so I like talking about her.
Papet, did you leave?
No. I'm rolling a cigarette.
So, you want to marry her?
Yes, but she won't want me.
- Why? - She's pretty and I'm ugly.
Does she have money?
Not much.
- Is she healthy? - Yes.
She's strong as a horse and has good little muscles.
She would do a better job on my carnations than me.
And she's educated too.
How do you know?
She's always reading books. Sometimes for a whole hour.
That's no good.
A poor girl who reads books. I don't like it.
Besides, a beautiful wife could mean trouble.
Is she honest?
She's the Holy Virgin of the hills.
If she'd marry me, I'd be happy as a king.
But she won't.
No poor girl ever rejected a Soubeyran.
Unless she's crazy.
If she said yes, would you consent?
I can't say until I know who she is.
You idiot! Open up and tell me!
I won't open the door!
I have to think!
I may tell you, but fiirst, swear by all the Soubeyrans...
that when you hear her name, you won't say a word.
- As you like. - No! Swear it!
I swear it by all the Soubeyrans.
Good! Now I have to decide.
I won't open the door. I'll take out the key.
Put your ear next to the keyhole.
It's Manon, the hunchback's daughter.
Twenty years from now, you'll be too old for her.
- She'll have lovers. - She wouldn't do that.
She's like all the others.
But never mind.
By then you'll have a house full of sturdy little Soubeyrans.
Since she's pretty, I give my consent.
You've seen her?
Yes, I have.
What's your opinion?
She's very pretty.
She seems mature for her age.
She must be 18 by now.
Know who she's like?
She looks like someone you never knew.
She looks exactly like her grandmother.
You knew her grandmother?
Florette Camoins...
the beauty!
Miss, I'm glad to meet you...
to thank you for my knife.
How did you know it was mine?
I saw you eating with it one day.
I'm the new teacher.
I'm collecting minerals in the hills...
to teach my pupils the composition of their land.
There's no gold here.
It's Jurassic cretaceous from the second Quaternary era.
You're well-informed for a shepherdess.
I'm just quoting my dad.
I'd like you to keep this.
I've got one.
That one's too fancy for me.
A shepherdess should have a shepherd's knife.
It has four blades, an awl and a nail fiile.
And small scissors.
I know, because I used them.
It's the fiirst one I snared.
It's a baby. The big ones get away.
That hare is my present to you.
My class starts soon. I have to leave.
I'll leave this on a rock.
Someone is bound to fiind it.
She doesn't want your knife.
I'll keep it if you take the hare.
All right.
How does one talk to girls?
I don't know any words of love.
So you've made up your mind?
Yes, I must hurry.
She could meet a man in Aubagne who might take her from me.
Where will you court her?
In the hills.
I'll pretend to look for mushrooms or snails...
as if I didn't see her.
Not so fast.
If you're looking for mushrooms or snails...
it makes you seem poor.
If you're rich, show it.
Don't wear your old clothes.
Wear a new suit, a real hunting outfiit...
with leather leggins and a matching hat.
And above all...
wear suspenders.
Excuse me.
I'm looking for a hare I shot that must be wounded.
Aren't you Manon, the daughter of Monsieur Jean?
I see you don't remember me.
That's because I've changed a lot.
I'm Ugolin...
your poor father's friend.
You've changed too.
You're a real young lady.
I hardly recognize you.
You may wonder why we never met before.
I'm too busy to hunt because of my carnations.
Did you know I grow carnations?
I've been very successful.
I've earned lots of money.
The money's all in gold coins!
In two years, with my savings, I'll be worth 50,000 francs.
Would you like to move back to Romarins?
I'd stay in my Massacan house...
and you and Baptistina can tend my carnations.
Manon, listen to me!
I know why you don't want to!
It's because you're proud.
But your pride is no problem.
Carnations need watering, picking, and women know all about that.
I'll pay you! I'll pay you very well!
It isn't to have you work.
I was lying.
It's because I love you.
I love you with all my heart.
I want to marry you! I'm all alone. I have no one!
My grandparents are dead!
My father hanged himself. My mother died of the flu!
There's only Uncle Papet!
He's rich. He's old!
He's going to die!
He'll leave it all to me, and it'll be yours!
Because I love you! I love you!
My love for you is choking me...
making me ill.
I saw you bathing in the water holes.
I watched for hours, you were so beautiful.
I was afraid I'd commit a crime!
- You spoke to her? - I didn't see her.
She must have gone to Aubagne.
Then do it tomorrow.
Maybe. First I've got to get used to this outfiit.
You look great!
Like a hunter from Marseilles.
Look! Do you see what I see?
A beautiful thrush.
That trap must belong to the hunchback's daughter.
- Are you sure? - Yes.
That is her herd. She must be around here.
I won't touch it. Other people's traps are sacred.
Especially hers. That's her only livelihood.
She sells them at the Aubagne market. She's proud.
We've already hurt her enough.
We didn't mean to. We're not responsible.
We're all responsible.
We knew there was a spring at Romarins, but we said nothing.
Why didn't you speak up?
Because of Amelie.
- You want a bite? - I sure do.
When I used to hunt at Romarins, I'd see...
that poor hunchback look for water with his rod.
Once he was right above it, but the rod didn't bend.
Then he dug in the wrong spot.
That night I was upset...
so I told Amelie.
What a scene! She flew into a rage!
It was none of our business... hunchbacks are bad luck...
he was an outsider from Crespin, etc., etc.
You know how she is.
She made me swear to say nothing.
- So you didn't? - No.
Ugolin and Papet are real bastards.
In that whole business, we were all bastards.
Papet! My spring stopped running!
- What? - No water!
None at all! I dug down deep. Not a drop!
Now what? The carnations are budding!
- 15,000 of them. - The well!
The well will be empty in two days.
Springs are capricious, especially yours.
- Give it three months. - Three months! Holy Mother!
Stop it, you fool!
The water is probably back by now.
And if not, with a few mules, we can hold out.
Let's take a look.
It used to flow.
When the hunchback came, it stopped.
Listen! Something's wrong with our fountain. It's just trickling.
Come and see!
That's not possible.
Here too! Papet, we're ruined!
Calm down!
You see?
Could be a frog or a snake inside.
We're stuck, like Ugolin.
Impossible! It hasn't stopped running in 50 years.
I'll go check out the basin.
I'm on my way.
Don't worry!
Monsieur Jean, have mercy.
You're up in heaven, so you can see...
that my feet are so swollen that I can't wear shoes...
that my mule is half-dead.
If this goes on, my carnations are ruined in eight days.
Come on.
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost...
give us back your daughter's spring. Amen.
Help us!
Amen, damn it!
Yes, I'm the mayor.
When will you get here?
Tomorrow? We'll all be dead! He must come right away!
We have no bread. Our crops are ruined.
It's a disaster!
Then I'll expect him tomorrow at the town hall.
The expert is coming tomorrow.
- What expert? - The one I keep asking for!
The rural engineering expert.
The meeting will come to order.
This council meeting concerns the water problem.
Problem? It's a disaster!
That's right, a disaster.
But thanks to my own efforts and my telephone...
I was able to get us a rural expert.
And here is the rural expert.
I have studied your problem...
and here's the report I'm submitting to my chief.
Partridge Spring that fed your fountain...
was the main source for this whole region.
It originated from a fiissure between two layers of limestone.
The source is not diaclastic.
It is a Vauclusian resurgence.
Let's not confuse the two.
Thus, the water bed between two impervious strata leveled out...
and the water issued forth along the upper stratum, under pressure.
This trapped pool supplied your basin by rising up...
and the basin supplied your fountain through a series of pipes.
Yes, it's serious!
At the request of your mayor...
and the administration...
we researched the cause of this terrible accident.
First, where did your water originate?
Luckily we have this document.
Very interesting!
It's a study by the chief engineer...
that spells out, clearly and to the point...
some experiments made in this region fiive years ago.
Unfortunately, your spring does not appear on this valuable map...
because it's not in the orography of the Huveaune River...
or its tributaries.
Where does that leave us?
Since the water doesn't originate locally, it comes from far away.
I want to speak.
- Not now! - I'll make it short!
Just let him turn on the water!
He can explain later!
I don't fiix fountains.
The fiirst theory is the drought.
A small drop in the ground water level may have caused your problem.
As the rising water is diverted by the parallel series of dolomites...
and fiinally the Jurassic pattern...
it should get through via a network of syphons.
You know what that is?
It's a rubber tube to draw wine.
At the fiirst rain, the syphons are re-primed...
as soon as the underground lake rises to its normal level.
An underground lake?
Of course! And don't argue with progress. You could be wrong.
If progress returns me my water, I'm for it!
And if my spring flows again, here's my 100 francs for progress!
Wait and hear the rest of this bullshit.
Now, the second theory.
The underground stream dropped into a network of caves.
Once they're fiilled...
the water returns to its old level and the spring flows again.
How soon?
I can't tell you how long it might take.
Maybe two days...
maybe two years.
Maybe 100 years.
That can't be ruled out.
Third theory...
To hell with your theories! What can you do for us right now?
The administration will provide a daily truck with 1,300 gallons of water.
To cover your immediate daily needs.
How much water do I get for my carnations?
If our water hasn't returned in a month, what then?
We suggest you farm some land elsewhere.
What can I say?
Lots of villages have plenty of water.
No, sir...
our council can't accept that!
Your council's power over natural phenomena is next to zero.
The third theory...
To hell with their theories!
We've got some administration!
And I say to hell with you!
You'll have to manage with the water truck.
It will be here in two days.
Meanwhile, gentlemen, good-bye!
Quiet! Or else they'll send the police!
Where is he?
Where's the president of the Water Syndicate?
Who is the president?
It's not me, it's you!
I am because I'm the mayor, and that's because I have a phone!
And what is this?
- Your receipt. - Right.
Fifty-two francs, plus the stamp.
You took my money. Now where's my water?
Before you came, the expert explained about the orography.
You have to understand orography.
I don't give a damn! I paid and I want my water!
Listen, they're sending a water truck every day.
Bring your mule...
and you'll get 40 gallons like the rest of us.
One: I have no mule, just a donkey.
Two: 40 gallons will do for a cafe, not for a fiield.
Three: I paid for spring water, not truck water!
I'm sure they'll send spring water.
Not from my spring! I paid and I want my water!
Stop yelling!
It's exhausting us and it won't help!
Holy Mother! My poor eggplants.
My 600 beefsteak tomato plants!
But everyone is affected. It's a major disaster.
Major, hell! I paid and I want my water!
The spring stopped running.
Where should we get water?
Who cares? Just make it run from my pipe.
And you, mind your own business!
You're a councilman, but I didn't vote for you!
- I don't need your vote. - You pain in the ass!
Where do you think you are?
Surrounded by water thieves!
Good morning.
Today is my birthday.
After Mass you're invited for a drink.
We don't control what day we're born.
My brothers, I am truly glad...
to see you all gathered in our little church.
The whole parish is here...
including a group of intellectuals...
who normally observe Holy Mass on the terrace of a coffee house.
I won't name it. It's our only coffee house.
I won't name them either. You all know them.
This ought to fiill them with shame...
were it not for their cynicism.
With clasped hands and moist eyes...
you're full of faith and repentance today.
But God knows you're here because your spring stopped running...
and your prayers are merely pleas for your string beans...
orations for your tomatoes, hallelujahs for your artichokes...
hosannas for your squash!
I must speak seriously about the spring.
I keep asking myself the same question.
Why is it...
that this water, so plentiful until now...
has suddenly dried up in the hour of our need?
I once read a Greek tragedy about the city of Thebes...
that was struck by a calamitous plague...
because of crimes committed by its king.
So I ask myself...
‘‘Is there a criminal among us?"
It's not impossible...
since the biggest crimes often escape human justice.
But God knows of them all!
I'll now speak to this unknown criminal, if he exists.
To him I say...
‘‘My brother...
there's no sin that cannot be forgiven...
no crime that can't be atoned for...
by sincere repentance"
Our Lord, Jesus Christ, said this astounding phrase:
‘‘There is more room in heaven for one repentant sinner."
Whatever your offense, try to make amends.
Repent, and you shall be saved.
And your spring will flow better than before.
He knows.
He looked at me three times.
What could he know? He's only been here a year.
Maybe somebody told him in confession.
Anglade might have.
He's such a bigot that he might confess other people's sins.
What worries me is the girl.
Me too.
She seemed unfriendly to you.
She seemed to be saying, ‘‘You're the criminal."
No. She knows nothing either.
Then what worries you?
I think she doesn't want you.
Happy birthday.
To our teacher's good health!
Here's to you!
What did you think of the sermon?
What do you expect? It's just a lot of words.
I'm sure no act of God dried up the spring.
He seemed to allude to a crime he knew of.
Maybe he heard of it in confession and couldn't reveal more.
What crime?
If anyone here commits a crime, we'd all know.
No, I felt he had someone in mind.
- Then who? - Yes, who?
He kept looking at Ugolin.
Yes, especially when he spoke of the plague.
- I'm a plague? - Don't joke about such things.
You smelled our Pernod!
I came because of the water, not the Pernod.
I have to speak to you. It's very important.
- To me? - Yes.
You can bring our water back.
I could? How?
By coming to the procession.
Will you?
Then our fountain won't ever flow again.
You think she's a saint?
An orphan's prayer...
soars to heaven like a lark.
Our Lord will gladly listen to her song.
She's innocent.
If she prays for us, we're saved.
Manon, you must save our carnations!
I won't help those who stole my father's water!
I don't understand.
They understand!
They know why God is punishing them.
Tell us. Do you know who the criminal is?
There are two.
There they are!
If we're treated like criminals, I'd rather go home.
Come, Galinette.
Your hurried departure might make us think...
I don't care what you think!
I think for myself.
Let's go.
- Come on! - No.
I want to hear what she's accusing me of...
because I can solve the whole problem.
Tell me how they stole your father's water.
But she's imagining things!
It's true her father's lack of water may have ruined him.
He would have found water, except for his accidental death.
The two women were in trouble...
so we bought the little farmland.
Partly because we liked it, true.
But also to help them out!
Later we searched for the spring and, by sheer luck, we found it.
That's what she calls stealing his water.
‘‘Help thy neighbor." Some joke!
Let's go!
He's lying!
The truth is the spring was always there.
The truth is you blocked it off.
Why would they do that?
To buy it cheap.
Without water, the farm is worthless.
My father's dead, thanks to these assassins!
That's not true! That's slander!
I found that spring with my watch.
You were there with your mother. You held a squash.
Tell the truth!
Within less than an hour?
God said to Pascal: ‘‘You wouldn't look for me...
unless you'd already found me."
To hell with Pascal!
I only met him once.
He was so rude, I slapped him!
You laugh, but it's true.
Here's what we have.
She denies what she saw and believes what she didn't see.
Who saw us block up that spring?
Who saw us block up that spring?
Me. I saw you.
I saw you both!
Liar! What did you see, idiot?
You never knew left from right.
In the army, they put an ‘‘X" on his left hand.
He never understood, so they sent him home.
I planned it that way. It wasn't easy, but it worked.
The major had his suspicions.
We're not interested in that.
Tell us what you saw.
He saw nothing.
- He was dreaming. - I never dream!
It was nine or ten years ago.
See? He's being vague.
It was after Bouffiigue died.
It was at Romarins, hunting partridge.
They were drinking from a puddle near the empty farmhouse.
I picked the lock, went upstairs...
How nice! Breaking into a dead man's house.
Bouffiigue built two small windows under the gutter to shoot thrush.
First, I took a nap.
You see, he slept! He was dreaming!
That was no dream!
Suddenly I heard digging sounds and woke up.
I watched through the window...
This one was digging. The other watched.
I didn't dare move.
The water gushed out of the hole...
then they blocked the spring with cement.
Why didn't you tell her father?
It wasn't my business.
But now God is punishing them and us.
Now it is my business.
Suppose he's telling the truth.
It's not true, but if it were...
I'm willing to give her the spring, my carnations...
the farm, the money, the Soubeyran fortune... my life.
You know it. I told you so in the hills.
I love you more than anything.
Listen to me, Manon.
I see you and talk to you constantly.
I can't eat. I can't sleep.
If you don't want me, I'll die or go crazy.
Shut up, idiot. Let's go.
Just think about it.
What a terrible mixture...
between my remorse...
and the happiness I'd like to bring you.
Don't you know how I'll slave for you, my love?
Make him go away!
My love!
Don't be a fool. Get up.
Think, Manon! Just think.
I'll die over this love, and nobody'll care.
Galinette, come on home.
No! It's all your fault!
I lost everything because of you!
If I had known...
Galinette, my boy!
I'll stay.
Since you're all against him, I'll defend him.
That won't be easy.
You all know there never was a spring at Romarins...
just a puddle.
But I found the real spring!
Those of you who are natives like me...
admit that there was no spring.
Listen carefully.
If you knew of a spring and didn't tell the hunchback...
then you're responsible for his death.
The old bastard!
- You knew? - Sure. We all knew.
We didn't dare denounce them to defend an outsider.
He hated my grandmother. They took it out on her son.
Who's your grandmother?
They never forgave her for marrying a man from Crespin.
Florette was your grandmother?
The hunchback was Florette's son?
Papet wants to see you and the mayor.
He wants to see you too.
- Me? - He said to hurry.
- He said you'll be glad. - Where is he?
At Romarins.
What's wrong?
Put him on the table.
Right there.
Go tell the deaf one...
to bring some candles from the church.
At least six big ones.
And the linen sheet his grandmother wove.
Pamphile, prepare the coffiin.
You have the oak boards in the attic.
The ones I wanted for myself.
I know. You're the one who ordered them.
Use them for him.
The rest of you, please...
say he fell from a tree.
Keep this a secret...
for three days...
or the priest won't give him a proper burial.
Now you can leave.
I'm staying with you.
There's no need to.
She should have married him...
and gotten her revenge by driving him crazy.
Papet, I'm leaving because I can't go on.
It's not the carnations. It's because of my love.
I realize she'll never want me.
I suspected it because her ribbon burned my flesh.
And when I told her in public I wanted to marry her...
she spat at me in a fury.
What's more, she fled towards the teacher.
When he talks to her, she lowers her eyes.
When he stops, she lingers until he continues.
And he takes her love for granted.
He's unaware of his happiness, but I know my misery.
I can't stand it. I'd like to kill him.
But it would hurt her, and I'd never hurt her.
I leave her my farm and all that's hidden...
you know where... to the left of the fireplace.
Don't make any trouble.
It's not her fault or yours. It's fate.
Arrange a Mass for me, because up there...
I'll have to explain about the spring.
Adieu, my Papet.
I'm sorry to leave you, but I can't stay.
You know?
I know.
What will you do?
I don't know.
I won't go back to that house.
Too many bad memories.
I'd keep seeing him hang where my swing used to be...
and smell his odor in the house.
Will you join the procession?
If you're sure...
that the water won't come back, you should go.
If your father could bring back the spring...
what would he do?
He'd have liked to be their friend.
For his sake, do what he would have done.
You think this procession will help?
You never know.
I wonder how I would feel if the prayers worked.
I would feel forced to go to confession.
That's what worries me.
I know several fools who'd think like you...
and I'd surely lose the elections.
Miracles can be very convincing.
Something's happening!
It's breathing.
The pipe is blowing.
A miracle!
On your knees!
Kneel down, everybody!
It's not a miracle!
It's just a coincidence!
I recognized your footsteps.
Your ear is as sharp as an eye.
Ears can't replace eyes, Cesar.
Belly dancing is all very well...
but you made a mistake when you were over there.
I did?
I said ‘‘mistake," but it was almost a crime.
I don't know what mistake you mean.
When I was wounded, they almost promoted me.
That's something else.
I'm talking about a letter you received.
What letter?
One that deserved an answer.
An answer that you never sent.
A letter from whom?
You don't want to tell me...
because you think I don't know.
- I swear, Delphine! - Don't swear, you sinner!
I'm sorry for reminding you of something unpleasant.
What is unpleasant?
From here I see the church...
and a cross on top of the steeple.
I swear on that cross that I received no letter...
except from my father and Anglade.
In that case, it's a tragedy.
Swear again that you're not lying to me.
I swear it. Who wrote to me?
Florette Camoins?
There was no other Florette.
Are you sure?
I, myself, gave the letter to the mailman.
I'd never have forgotten a letter from her.
I still have two faded notes she wrote to me...
and a black comb from her hair.
It's true.
When I came back, she had left the village.
She was married to the blacksmith in Crespin...
and she already had a child.
How could that letter have gotten lost?
Over there, we moved from place to place.
Sometimes our food and even our ammunition didn't reach us.
Some letters may have been lost too.
But if I had received that letter...
I would still know it by heart.
If that's true, it's dreadful.
You think she loved me?
You old fool.
She never told me so...
not even after what happened between us one night...
in Anglade's barn.
That's how she was.
In her letter...
she told you that she was pregnant.
You had left three weeks before.
She told you if you wrote to her father...
promising to marry her...
she would wait for you.
She could have shown her letter to the whole village...
and nobody would have dreamed of making fun of her.
Are you sure?
The poor girl couldn't sleep.
She tried to lose the baby with devilish potions.
She jumped from high rocks in the hills...
but nothing worked.
Then she started hating you.
She went to the dance at Aubagne...
where she found the blacksmith from Crespin.
So she left the village...
and no one ever knew when the child was born.
Was it born alive?
Alive, yes...
but it was a hunchback.
I hear Clarinette coming back.
Come on over, my girl.
It's getting chilly.
I'd rather sit by the fiireplace.
Adieu, Cesar.
Don't worry.
I never told anyone.
I'm going to pray for you.
What's wrong, Papet? Are you ill?
Don't stand here. It's too cold.
Should I call a doctor?
I could call at the Ombres.
No, thanks.
I know what's wrong with me.
Lean on me. I'll take you home.
My friend, I don't believe you are about to die.
But I believe I am.
I know I'll die tonight.
What makes you think so?
I'll die because I no longer want to live.
Hurry and confess me.
You'll see. I have lots to confess.
You know that suicide is a mortal sin.
I won't need to kill myself.
I'll simply pass away.
Dear God, please don't let her baby be a hunchback.
Dear little Manon...
the notary will tell you that I'm leaving you my whole estate.
It may surprise you, but it's the truth.
The notary will give you all the documents.
Because your father was my son.
He was the Soubeyran I'd hoped for all my life...
whom I tormented to death...
because I didn't know who he was.
If I had told him about the spring...
he'd still be playing his harmonica...
and you'd all be living in our family home.
No one knows it, but I'm too ashamed to face anyone...
even the trees.
In the village, there's a person who knows.
She will tell you everything.
It's Delphine, the old blind woman.
She'll explain that it's all because of Africa.
I don't deserve to kiss you...
and I never dared speak to you.
But maybe now you can forgive me...
and even say a little prayer...
for poor Ugolin and me.
I'm so pathetic, I even pity myself.
Out of sheer spite, I never went near him.
I never knew his voice or his face.
I never saw his eyes...
that might have been like his mother's.
I only saw his hump and the pain I caused him.
Now you understand why I want to die.
Because next to my torments...
even hell would be a pleasure.
Besides, I'll see him up there. I'm not afraid of him.
Now he knows he's a Soubeyran...
and it's not my fault that he's a hunchback.
He knows it was all a foolish mistake.
I'm sure that instead of blaming me...
he'll defend me.
Farewell, my darling girl.
Your grandfather, Cesar Soubeyran.
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