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Waterloo 1970 CD1

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- There is no hope, Sire. - We are defeated, Sire.
For twenty years, we followed you. You marched with glory through Europe.
We cannot save Paris.
The Austrians are in Versailles.
The Cossacks are watering their horses in the Seine.
They can hear the Prussian cannon in Montmartre.
There are four nations, four armies, four fronts against us.
You will be allowed to retire to the island of Elba with a personal guard.
- It is an honourable exile, Sire. - All you can do is abdicate.
You must sign, Sire.
Why? So you all can keep the titles I gave you?
What were you before me? Nothing. I made you.
You must abdicate, Sire.
Listen to me, Ney.
If there's anything I despise, it's ingratitude.
What can I do? What?
I sent to the Emperor of Russia for peace. He refused me.
What can we do?
What can we do? What can we do?
We can fight!
I fortify Paris. I disengage from Austria and retreat to Italy.
We must consolidate and mobilise. Train the recruits on the march.
There are no men to mobilise.
The army does not want Paris to suffer like Moscow did.
Why is it always Wellington?
Wellington. Are you afraid of him because he beat you in Spain?
France will not follow you.
France will follow me to the stars, if I give her another victory.
You have no choice. You must give up the throne.
Oh, Ney. The throne? Do you know what the throne is?
It's an overdecorated piece of furniture.
It's what's behind the throne that counts.
My brains, my ambitions, my desires, my hope, my imagination.
And above all my will.
I can't believe my ears.
You stand there waving a piece of paper crying: "Abdicate, abdicate!"
I will not! I will not!
All his men?
- When? - This morning.
There is nothing left to do. Sign.
Elba. Why Elba?
Marshal Marmot has surrendered to the Austrians. It was his last hope.
Soldiers -
- Of my Old Guard -
- After twenty years I have come to say -
- Goodbye.
France has fallen.
So remember me.
Though I love you all, I cannot embrace you all.
With this kiss, remember me.
Goodbye, my soldiers.
Goodbye, my sons.
And goodbye, my children.
Your Majesty, the monster has escaped from Elba.
We can thank God he is mad enough to land in France.
Let us not dramatise yet.
Napoleon and his thousand men are not really dangerous... yet.
Marshal Soult, you will keep command of our troops here in Paris.
Marshal Ney...
You will be the first to confront the werewolf.
- I know you love this man. - I did. Once.
But I will bring him back to Paris in an iron cage.
How they exaggerate all this. The soldiers.
"In an iron cage."
Nobody asked for that.
- There's no way around. - The way is forward.
Soldiers of the Fifth... Do you recognise me?
If you want to kill your Emperor -
- Here I am.
Long live the Emperor!
Follow me to Grenoble.
It was the cry of injured honour that brought me back to France.
From Elba, I saw the rights of France misprized and thrown aside.
My victory is certain. My eagles will fly from steeple to steeple.
Come then. We will show them your red head.
I have come back.
I have come back to make France happy.
- Bourbons to the compost! - Hang the traitors!
I am France and France is me!
Napoleon has come back to us!
I will never forget your face, Ney, when you forced me to abdicate.
- I did it for France. - I know what is good for France.
I understand you made a promise to the King. Something about a cage?
What was it exactly?
I said I would bring you back to Paris in an iron cage.
That is what I heard.
The fat king must be carried from the throne!
He has corrupted the honour of Frenchmen!
Perhaps the people will let me go -
- As they let him come.
He is back! The Emperor is back! Now France will live again!
Long live the Emperor!
- He will lead us to glory again! - Our Emperor is back!
Home! Bring the hero home!
Goulaincourt, Molien, Molé, Fouché. We have a small problem to solve.
When France wakes up tomorrow, it must have a government.
Drouot. Let me tell you something.
Life's most precious quality is loyalty.
And you Drouot, are a rare man, untainted and true. Will you join me?
- With all my heart, Sire. - Thank you, Drouot.
- I see you got my invitation. - Yes, Sire.
I understand you are no longer the King's Minister of War.
- Obviously not, Sire. - Obviously not, Soult.
Silence! You are to be my Chief of Staff. Accept?
- I accept, Sire. - Good. All's well that ends well.
Your son Ferdinand was killed when he fell off a horse at a review.
No. Musset must go. We need more conscripts and more men. Signature.
Your son was very brave and persistent in his duties.
I am sorry, Madame, that fate hasn't been more discriminating.
To my dear Prince Alexis.
I did not usurp the crown.
I found it in the gutter.
And I picked it up -
- With my sword.
And it was the people, Alexis -
- The people -
- Who put it on my head.
He who saves a nation violates no law.
To my beloved wife.
I beg you as my wife and as daughter of Austria, my enemy. -
- Please return to me my most precious possession:
My son.
To the Prince Regent, England.
You have been my most generous enemy for twenty years.
But now I want peace.
Therefore I protest the presence of Wellington...
My son is my future.
And I would rather see him dead than raised as a captive Austrian Prince.
They have declared me an enemy of humanity.
Europe has declared war against me. Not against France, but against me.
They dignify you, Sire, by making you a nation.
Dignify? Dignify? They deny me the decency of law.
They make it legal that any clown can kill me. Any news of Wellington?
- Still in Brussels, Sire. - Still with old Blucher?
They started the war. Let them bleed.
Yes, let 'em bleed. I will discuss peace over Wellington's dead body.
Marshal Soult, Sire. It's urgent.
It's always urgent. Show him in.
The armies of Wellington and Blucher have separated, Sire.
- Separated? - Yes, Sire.
I wonder what history will say of them?
We'll push Blucher aside and march on to Wellington.
It will be a bloody day.
- Yes, Sire. - Oh, yes, Soult.
Everything depends on one big battle, just like at Marengo.
Thank you, Soult.
But at Marengo, I was young.
Uncle Gordon paraded his whole regiment for my inspection this morning.
So I just rode up and down and picked my fancy.
Mama, you chose such big ones.
You really are the best of my generals.
We ladies just have to follow the drum. This season, soldiers are the fashion.
Where would society be without my boys?
- They are the salt of England. - Scum.
Nothing but beggars and scoundrels. Gin is the spirit of their patriotism.
Yet you expect them to die for you?
Out of duty?
I doubt if even Bonaparte could draw men to him by duty.
- Bony is not a gentleman. - What an Englishman you are.
On a battlefield his hat is worth 50,000 men. But he's no gentleman.
When we get to Paris, let me look at Napoleon. I will not get too near.
- Mama admires him. - I am a bit of a Bonapartist.
Is it true, that he is a monster?
He eats laurels and drinks blood.
And when will you venture into his lair?
He hasn't given me any idea. It all depends on...
Cross the river. Tomorrow we dry our boots in Brussels.
- God willing, Sire. - God has nothing to do with it.
- Don't let young Hay get killed. - An engagement?
I don't want Sarah to wear black before she's worn white.
Dickie has promised to get me a cuirassier's helmet.
- Without any blood on it. - And one for me. With the blood.
Where will you stick your Frenchman?
- Under the right arm, sir. - See, he has it planned.
When you meet a cuirassier, you'll be lucky to bring away your life. -
- Never mind his helmet. The French will teach you the art of fighting.
Madam, by your leave.
I have never seen such a set of sprats.
- Picton can't walk in a ball room. - But he dances well with the French.
But one dances with them in a field.
- Who's he? - A Prussian officer.
That gentleman will spoil the dancing.
- It's Napoleon, sir... - I know. He has crossed the border.
With all his forces. He has come between our armies.
- Where? - At Charleroi.
- Do you wish me to stop the ball? - No, I want no alarm.
All officers obliged to ladies will finish the dance.
Uxbridge, move the cavalry to Charleroi. Picton, your division marches tonight.
May I go with the army? You can ask the Duke.
He allowed ladies in Spain. We've had so little time together.
- Madeleine, a battle is no place... - I fear I may never see you again.
What could be simpler than Charleroi? He has humbugged me.
In a night's march, he has made us piecemeal.
He has gained a victory at the cost of bootlaces.
If Blucher stays in Belgium, I stay too.
On that promise, Blucher would tie his men to trees if necessary.
- These four roads here... - Quatre Bras. He'll go for them.
If we can't hold him there, I will stop him here.
By God, that man does war honour.
A field of glory is never a pretty sight.
Nevertheless, 16,000 Prussian dead. That'll be good news in Paris.
Wellington's on the run at Quatre Bras. He is retreating.
- Then what are you doing here? - I came to make my report.
Why didn't you follow him? Why didn't you pursue him?
- Where are my reinforcements? - Don't you dare criticise me!
If Wellington's free to choose his ground, you have lost me everything.
Marshal Blucher, the sector is broken. I have ordered a retreat.
I am seventy-two and a proud soldier.
This steel is my word.
I am too old to break it.
If Wellington runs for the coast, none of us will get home to Berlin.
I do not trust the English. But because I have served you before. -
- I have ordered the retreat to Wavre. You may still cooperate with Wellington.
But God help us if he does not stand.
Grouchy. Gerard. You take 30,000 men.
You take one third of my army and pursue Blucher.
Don't let them regroup or consolidate and don't let them rejoin.
But Blucher might go in ten different directions.
Blucher is not a scatter of birds. We will find him on one road.
Enough's enough!
Let's not have any disagreements. That only leads to disaster.
Grouchy. Gerard. You can go.
Go, go, go.
We'll beat Napoleon next time!
Blucher will win!
Blucher will turn defeat into victory!
Old Blucher. Damned good licking and rolled eighteen miles back.
So, we go, too.
I suppose in England they'll say we've been licked.
Can't help that.
- It's mad. It's all madness. - They know what they're doing.
If Bony kicked the Prussians' arse, why are we doing all the running?
A retreating army is never in love with its commander.
A few shots from the French and they'll be themselves again.
- I like the cut of your men, Gordon. - Forward fellows with a bayonet.
Meat and eggs from the cradle up, and a lemon a month.
All from my own acres. I've bred 'em myself.
Some there could call me more than Colonel.
- That must be the whole army. - They're still positioning, Sire.
Never interrupt your enemy when he's making a mistake. That's bad manners.
It's a bad position, Wellington. That wood behind us is unsound.
If they push us back it'll be like a wall. The army will be cut to pieces.
There is no undergrowth there. A battery of nine pounders...
A whole army can slip through it like rain through a grate.
It's suicidal, if you want to know.
You may be surprised to know that I saw this ground a year ago -
- And I've kept it in my pocket.
Obviously, he's no student of Caesar. He's positioned himself badly.
He has the trees at his back. We'll give him no provocation.
Maybe he'll leave tonight.
Come on. You're nosing your way right into the pot.
There you are!
Look, keep quiet and I'll only eat half of you.
Forgive me, sir, but...
If you took the troops into confidence, they would know what they were about.
If I thought my hair knew what my brain was thinking. -
- I'd shave it off and wear a wig.
Here comes old Atty. Get to your feet.
- Your old friends, sir. - The Enniskillen.
I hang and flog more of them than I do the rest of the army.
- Good evening. - Good evening.
A fine night, sir.
Take off your pack, sir.
- Me, sir? - You, sir.
- Open it, sir. - Yes, sir.
I knew something queer was scratching my back, sir.
Where did you acquire this plunder, sir?
- This, sir? - That, sir.
No, sir. This plunder acquired me, sir.
Do you know the penalty for plundering, sir?
- Stoppage of gin, sir? - It's death, sir.
Sir, I have to report this little pig has lost its way. -
- And I'm trying to find her relations, sir.
He knows how to defend a hopeless position. Raise him to corporal.
Play the goat next time, Paddy, and you'll be a Sergeant.
I don't know what they'll do to the enemy, but they frighten me.
Dirty night. Hard morrow.
- De Lancey. - Yes, sir?
If I fail tomorrow -
- I hope God will have mercy on me. For nobody else will.
Why is he standing there? What is his reason?
Has he lost his caution? There must be something I don't understand.
If only Blucher could outrun Grouchy, and give me even one corps.
All depends on the Prussians.
Why does Grouchy only do six miles a day? I do ten.
The muddy slope will help us. They'll slither up to it.
But the roads could slow Blucher, and that'll be the end of it.
Tell him the roads are the same for everyone. True?
- True? - Yes, Sire.
Tell him to walk faster.
You may fight your battle, Field Marshal.
- Where is Grouchy and his men? - He is following us step by step.
He is not between us.
- What is the time, Hay? - It's ten to two, sir.
Muffling, I must ask you to go out once more tonight.
Oblige me with a fresh horse, sir.
I beg Marshal Blucher to come to Waterloo by one o'clock.
Don't you see, Uxbridge? If Grouchy comes between us...
And catches the Prussians strung out on the march...
Then it would be just a matter of counting our dead.
With such a risk, dare we rely on Blucher?
We have to rely on each other, Uxbridge.
Who did you give your watch to, Hay?
Somerset, sir.
Expecting to die tomorrow? I don't like those thoughts.
Having them sometimes makes them come true.
Get your watch back. Tomorrow I will ask you the time every five minutes.
Shall I send for Doctor Larrey?
Should I call the doctor?
No, no, no. No doctor.
What are you looking at?
Get out. Out, out, out. Everyone out.
I mustn't be sick. I must have strength for tomorrow.
My body is dying, yet my brain is still good.
Will it never stop raining?
- We're 140,000 men. - We're not the half of it.
That's counting the French as well. 40,000 will be dead tomorrow.
Eat your soup while you've got your belly.
Have you seen our new Corporal?
- 'Morning, Corporal! - He doesn't talk to the likes of us.
Did you have bacon for breakfast?
- 'Morning, Ramsey. - 'Morning. Filthy night, wasn't it?
- 'Morning, gentlemen. - Good morning, Sire.
This one.
- What are you all staring at? - Are you all right, Sire?
That was last night.
I've never felt better in my life. Come, we eat.
I'm afraid this afternoon, you will need bigger napkins.
We attack at nine. What is the ground like?
It will not dry before noon, Sire.
We've fought in mud before.
That's true.
- What's that? - Sunday morning.
The priest in Plancenoit won't give up his mass.
Well, he won't have much of a congregation.
I'm not asleep, Drouot.
Sire, we need four hours. The ground is too soft to move my cannon.
Waiting four hours would have lost me Austerlitz.
Wellington won't hold us an hour with his English, Brunswickers and Belgians.
- I cannot answer for my cannon. - You are the cannon, Drouot.
It would be better to attack at twelve.
Battles are lost and won in a quarter of an hour.
If Wellington were on the move, I would say, go now.
But he is sitting with the mud in his favour.
In his favour?
In case anything should happen to you, what are your plans?
To beat the French.
Dramatic fellows, these French. Music and banners.
Quite beautiful.
You're a lucky fellow, Hay, to see such wonder in your first battle.
- Your Grace! - What is it, Hay?
Over there, near the road! His white horse! The monster.
So there's the great thief of Europe himself.
Napoleon has ridden within range. May I have permission to try a shot?
Certainly not.
Commanders have something better to do than fire at each other.
Killing is a brotherly business, isn't it, de Lancey?
- Shall I shut them up, sir? - No.
No, indulge it.
Anything that wastes time this morning, indulge it.
Normally, I don't like cheering.
But there's always a time to cut cards with the devil.
Would you kindly announce me?
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