Phillipe: Impossible…
Nothing is impossible… Come on,
Mouse, dig! Dig, Mouse…
Marquet: Jehan.
Jehan: Yes, sir?
Marquet: Bring out the next three.
Jehan: Two more.
Prison guard: Hurry up. Take two.
Jehan: I want Phillipe Gaston.
Guard: This is the cell, sir.
Jehan: Wrong cell. I want Phillipe Gaston,
the one they call "The Mouse".
Prisoner: The Mouse? The Mouse…
The mouse- he left our house. No mouse
today- he ran away. To ease the pain-
he’s down the drain!
Jehan: Where is he?!
Prisoner: I already told you, kind lord!
Jehan: Hang him. Search every sewer,
every drain! Find him! Or Captain Marquet
will hang you in his place. Impossible.
Nobody could escape through there.
Phillipe: It’s not unlike escaping
mother’s womb. God, what a memory!
Lord, I’ll never pick another pocket
as long as I live, I swear. But here’s
the problem- if you won’t let me
live, how can I prove my good faith to
you?
If you’ve heard me, this ledge
will remain steady as a rock, and that
thing coming at me won’t be what
I think it is. If it is, there’ll
be no hard feelings, of course…
but I’ll be very disappointed.
I don’t believe it… I believe
it. I’m coming. It’s Phillipe,
Lord, Phillipe. You won’t regret
this, Lord. I’m a wonderful person.
Girl: Hello! What are you doing down
there?
Phillipe: Get away, get away!
Girl’s mother: Come there, come
there.
Marquet: There’s disturbing news,
Your Grace. One of the prisoners has escaped.
Bishop: No one ever escapes the dungeons
of Aquila, Marquet. The people of the
city accept that as a historical fact.
Marquet: The responsibility is mine.
Bishop: Yes.
Marquet: It would be a miracle if he
manages to get through the sewage system.
Bishop: I believe in miracles, Marquet.
It’s part of my job.
Marquet: At any rate, Your Grace, ‘tis
only one insignificant petty thief.
Bishop: Great storms announce themselves
with a simple breeze, Captain, and a single
rebel spark can ignite the fires of rebellion.
Marquet: If he’s out there, Your
Grace, I shall find him.
Bishop: Yes.
Marquet: Take ten men toward Chanee,
we ride north to Gabroche. The name of
the man who finds this Gaston will be
brought to the personal attention of the
Bishop. As will the body of the man who
lets him get away.
Guard: Open the gate!
Phillipe: I know I promised, Lord, never
again. But I also know, that you know,
what a weak-willed person I am.
Come on, Mouse, keep going. Not much
further. About 350 miles, that’s
all.
A nice hot piece of cabbage, like my
dear old mother used to make. Wolf! Wolf.
Please, no wolf. Extract of lamb. Where
the hell am I? Hot lamb, with sauce on
it. Maybe some of that green stuff, that
Bertram used to put on.
Hello!
Little girl: Hello!
Little boy: Hello!
Phillipe: Look up there!
Little girl: He’s taking daddy’s
shoes!
Phillipe: That’s right, my darlings.
Innkeeper! A drink of your most expensive!
Innkeeper: Yeah, yeah, show me your money.
Phillipe: Copper, my friend. And a same
for any who joins me in a toast!
Innkeeper: Let’s hear your toast.
Phillipe: we drink to a special man,
my friends, someone who has seen the dungeons
of Aquila, and lived to tell the tale.
Marquet: Then you drink to me, little
man. I’ve seen those dungeons.
Phillipe: A blacksmith, perhaps? A carpenter?
A stonecutter, even? But a prisoner, from
inside Aquila?
Marquet: I didn’t say I was a prisoner.
If you’d stuck to the woods, you
may have stood a chance, Gaston.
Phillipe: You’re right.
Marquet: Get him!
Guard: Move, move! Get out of the way!
You, I said move!
Phillipe: I’m so terribly sorry!
Marquet: Kill him.
Phillipe: May God have mercy on my soul!
Navarre: You, out.
Marquet: One of my men told me you returned.
I wanted to cut his throat for lying,
because I knew you weren’t that
stupid.
Guard: Captain Navarre.
Navarre: Francesco.
Marquet: Captain?
Navarre!!!
Phillipe: I won’t hurt you, I’m
a wonderful person.
Marquet: After him!
Phillipe: Nice ponies, sweet ponies,
come here… filthy strumpets!
No, no! No, no, no!
Must be somebody at home. I see smoke.
Are you sure you don’t want to ride
on, sir? There’s still plenty of
light.
Navarre: Stop your chattering. We’ll
spend the night here.
Farmer’s wife: Pitou! Pitou!
Farmer Pitou: Give me the axe! The axe!
Navarre: Good evening, sir, my lady.
My comrade-in-arms and I need lodging
for the night.
Farmer Pitou: No, no place for you here.
Navarre: We’ll pay for it, of course.
Phillipe: We are not above compassion
to those in misery.
Farmer Pitou: You may sleep down there,
in a barn.
Navarre: Thank you.
Phillipe: Sir? Sir, are you there? If
there’s nothing else I can do, I
think I’ll turn in.
Navarre: You can take care of my horse.
Phillipe: All right.
Navarre: And sleep with one eye open.
And don’t disturb me- I’m
liable to take your head off before I
know it’s you.
Phillipe: All right. Come on, old girl,
come on. Stubborn little lady! What’s
her name?
Navarre: His name is Goliath.
Phillipe: His name? Pretty name.
Navarre: Go with him, boy, he didn’t
mean to hurt your feelings.
Phillipe: Goliath, before we get to know
each other better, I feel I should tell
you a story about a tiny little man named
David…
Navarre: One day.
Phillipe: "Comrade-in-arms"!
"Slave" is more like it. See
to the fire, feed the animals, gather
the wood… Look at me, Lord! I was
better off at the dungeons of Aquila!
My cellmate was insane, and a murderer,
but he respected me! He’s a strange
one, Navarre. Why did he save my life?
He wants something from me, I can see
it in his eyes. Well, whatever it is,
I’m not going to do it! I’m
still a young man, you know! I’ve
got prospects! I’m off to find my
golden future, Captain, so goodbye and
good… Hello? Who do you think is
out there? You better draw your sword,
Pierre. Ah, Louis, you brought your crossbow!
We’ll all go back to the barn now,
all right? All right. All right. Show
no mercy, Pierre! Take no prisoners! I’m
going to get some help!
Captain, sir, Captain! Sir, sir, sir,
wolf, wolf, wolf! Sir! Sir! Wolf, wolf!
Don’t go out there, don’t
go out there! There’s a wolf, a
big wolf, the biggest wolf you’ve
ever seen, and a dead man.
Isabeau: I know.
Phillipe: Miss, please! Maybe I’m
dreaming. But my eyes are open, which
means, maybe I’m awake, dreaming
I’m asleep. Or, or more likely,
maybe I’m asleep, dreaming I’m
awake, wondering if I’m dreaming.
Isabeau: You are dreaming.
Phillipe: I’ve not seen what I’ve
just seen. I do not believe what I believe,
Lord. If these are magical or unexplainable
matters, then I beg you not to make me
a part of them.
Navarre: We’ll stop now. Not a
great day for traveling.
Phillipe: Come on, girl, come on. I mean,
boy. Come on, Goliath. Come on. Goliath,
come on, it’s cold out here. Come
on. I can do with a rest myself, after
last night’s goings on. The wolf
would have kill me, it was horrible. But
he tore the farmer’s throat out,
and left me alone. And there was more.
There was a woman. Like fine porcelain,
with deep blue eyes, almost like a bird’s.
And her voice. The dulcet tones of an
angel.
Navarre: She spoke? What did she say?
Phillipe: I asked her if I was dreaming,
and she said I was. I’m not insane,
you must believe me when I tell you these
things!
Navarre: No, I believe you. I believe
in dreams.
Phillipe: I see.
Navarre: This lady… Did she perhaps
have a name?
Phillipe: Not that she mentioned, why?
Navarre: Well, she may wonder into my
dreams. Wouldn’t it be nice, if
I could call her by name and pretend we’ve
met before? I’ve waited a long time
for such a lady.
Phillipe: I got to be out of my mind.
Out of my mind.
Guard: Open the gates!
Bishop: Have you found the criminal,
Gaston?
Marquet: He’s not in my custody
at this time.
Bishop: Then why do you invade my garden,
unwashed, unshaved? Do you think to find
him here?
Marquet: Navarre has returned.
Bishop: Walk with me.
Marquet: The criminal, Gaston, travels
with him. My men are combing the woods.
Bishop: And the hawk?
Marquet: Your Grace?
Bishop: There must be a hawk. A spirited
hawk. This one is not to be harmed, understood?
You see, the day she dies, a new Captain
of the Guard will preside at your execution.
We live in difficult times, Marquet. This
famine has prevented people from paying
their proper tribute to the church. I
raise their taxes, only to be told there’s
nothing left for me to tax. Imagine! But
last night, the Lord Almighty visited
me in my sleep. He told me that Satan’s
messenger is traveling amongst us. And
his name… is Etienne of Navarre.
Go. To break faith with me is to break
faith with Him.
Get me Cezar!
Guard: Yes, Your Grace.
Navarre: This sword has been in my family
for five generations. It has never known
defeat, until now. This jewel represents
my family name. This one is our alliance
with the Holy Church in Rome. This one…
was my father’s, from the Crusades.
And this…
Phillipe: Sir, you don’t think
that I took that one…
Navarre: This is mine to fill. Each generation
is called upon to follow its quest.
Phillipe: And what is your quest?
Navarre: I must kill a man.
Phillipe: Tell me, does this walking
corpse have a name?
Navarre: His Grace, the Bishop of Aquila.
Phillipe: The Bishop… I see…
Well, then you have much to do, and I’ve
already been enough of a burden to you.
I do hope our paths cross again someday.
Navarre: I need you to guide me into
the city.
Phillipe: Not for the life of my mother!
Even if I knew who she was.
Navarre: You’re the only one who
has ever escaped from there.
Phillipe: It was chance, pure chance,
a miracle! I fell down a hole and followed
my nose.
Navarre: I have waited almost two years
for a sign from God. So when I heard the
warning bells of Aquila, I knew the moment
of my destiny has come. You will be my
guiding angel.
Phillipe: Me?! Sir, the truth is, I talk
to God all the time, and no offense, but
he never mentioned you.
Navarre: No?
Phillipe: There are strange forces at
work in your life, magical ones that surround
you. I don’t understand them, but
they frighten me. You have given me my
life. The truth is, I can never repay
you. I have no honor, and never will have.
I don’t think that you’d kill
me for being what I am. But, better that
then to return to Aquila.
I’ll gather some wood for the fire.
Isabeau: Got you.
Phillipe: Miss? My lady, up here.
Isabeau: Oh, damn.
Phillipe: Do you remember me?
Isabeau: What are you doing up there?
Phillipe: What am I doing? Well, yes,
you might ask that. The Bishop’s
guards, a dozen of them, we had a terrible
fight.
Isabeau: Why didn’t they kill you.
Phillipe: Why didn’t they?.. It’s
a good question, I asked them that myself.
Isabeau: And?..
Phillipe: And?
Isabeau: And what did they say?
Phillipe: They said that… that
they prefer to leave that honor to the
Bishop. They’re coming back.
Isabeau: They are, are they?
Phillipe: Please, my lady? A giant owl
examined me closely not one minute ago.
Please? Please? You’re very kind.
Isabeau: Listen,..
Phillipe: Thank you very much, my lady.
Tell the Captain he ties a wicked knot!
Isabeau: He’s going to kill me. |
Spain.
