A man after my own heart.
Pardon me?
Nowhere to be found.
But we'll dig to the root of this. You have my promise.
Marie-Joseph-Paul-Yves- Roch-Gilbert du Motier?
You have found him.
Somebody wants to talk to you.
Exactly what type of morons are you?
-How many types are there? -I am not talking to you, sir.
I do not even acknowledge your existence.
And you.
I had the vague notion you were a sensible sort.
What on earth convinced you to join this imbecilic escapade?
-Well, I-- -I don't care!
But you.
I had hoped that experience on the battlefield
might curb your natural inclination to idiocy.
Clearly I was mistaken.
Monsieur le Comte, I advise you to remember
you address a general in the Continental Army.
I address the irritation that plagued my foyer for months on end.
And now has it in his head to invade England with
whatever half-sober layabouts he could find sprawled on the docks at Le Havre!
What did you say?
I said that it could have worked. If you hadn't stopped us.
They strangled him, of course.
My friends,
What got into him?
At least we didn't get arrested.
I am losing hope, Doctor.
They're throwing me out of my own house.
Take my purse. I don't want trouble. Please.
Come on, again. Three cups and one chestnut.
Find the chestnut and double your money.
There.
Lost.
Give me some money.
I haven't got a sou.
Not my home. It's just where my grandfather--
Sponges off my parents.
Damn, I accidentally said the truth.
Why would I give a shit?
Oh, big boy words.
Holding out on me? Some friend.
Well. Now we're both kings.
See you around.
I'll tell you a secret. She said you were cute.
-Who? -You know who.
But she's not the kind of girl whose door you just go knock on.
You never know who's on the other side.
Listen. You really screwed up, and there's no one else to blame.
I know what that's like.
So, we can walk over to St. Roch and find you a priest…
or you could do what any gentleman in your situation would do.
What's that?
Come on, little tadpole. We're going to the country.
"…to officially, and formally, announce the intention of the United States to…
to officially, and formally, announce--"
…to officially, and formally…
Excuse me.
…announce the intention of the…
the United-- the United States--
To sit here and be lectured by some witless backwoods harlequin--
"So if you would believe me, Sweetheart,
while your young age is in flower.
In its greenest freshness,
gather, gather your youth.
Since age will tarnish your beauty. As it has faded this flower."
That was remarkably dispiriting.
He's trying to convince some girl to roll in the hay with him before she turns ugly.
Ronsard addresses the fleeting nature of life.
-The rose that blossoms in the morning-- -Don't fool yourself, Cabanis.
It's all about spreading legs.
Madame, you delight in the unexpected.
Clouds, cherubs, wounded unicorns,
little sparrows cupped in the hand.
A man will say anything to get a woman on her back. Wouldn't you agree?
I think that--
When all he really needs to do is be straightforward.
It's not as if the thought never crossed her mind.
Madame, are you against poetry?
I never heard a cat recite a rhyme. And they have no trouble propagating.
Isn't that so, Aza?
Perhaps it's time I retired for the evening.
Yes, don't stand on ceremony.
Should I wake the abbé?
Leave him be. You never know when you might need a priest.
Do you have something else in mind?
I'm retiring to my rooms. I can't imagine what you're going to do.
Good night.
Well?
Madame Brillon?
I'm sorry?
I simply said, madame, that I am certain your daughter cannot help but reflect
the refined nature of her esteemed mother.
Perhaps you and I, sir, could privately discuss what particular arrangements--
You may tell us both your terms, Colonel.
We are a banking people.
We have no small business with the court.
We hold title to land inside and outside the city
that we intend to improve at profit.
Your family is not illustrious.
I wager we have made up for it. With gold.
Three hundred arpents in Burgundy. She'll come with that.
A mill in Orléans. The rents on six farms in La Manche.
And my position at the Treasury.
A proper accounting would be best.
You are here to buy a name, sir.
I'd say the scales are balanced.
Fetch her now.
Mama. Papa.
Daughter.
This is Colonel Paris d'Illins.
He is eager to hear you play.
Most likely, he sailed from Southampton and landed at Le Havre.
A stevedore was killed on the docks there around that time.
Why didn't you catch him then?
No evidence. No witnesses.
I don't recall that stopping you before.
Does the brush get to choose the painter?
Did this fellow try to kill Franklin or not?
Possibly.
I also note visits to Dr. Franklin by a certain Mr. Williams…
claiming to represent the British prime minister.
Although none of our spies in Lord North's office have heard of him.
Where is he now?
In Paris, no doubt. He moves frequently.
But he wouldn't be so hard to find.
Then why don't you do it?
Would you like us to?
He's going around stabbing people.
-No one who matters. -Yet.
Not every fish has to be caught.
You want to…
Let him go about his business.
While we keep an eye on him.
You might find it useful at some point.
I can't have Dr. Franklin being murdered.
We would definitely draw the line at that.
This conversation never happened.
I was out riding all morning myself.
Coffee, Monsieur Lenoir?
No, thank you, Madame.
It makes me excitable.
Why does he always come when I'm eating breakfast?
Because you let him.
What do you think?
Be careful you don't wind up needing him more than he needs you.
The question, Your Majesty, is what France may yield in honor
without too much loss of dignity.
London proposes each side retain the territory they occupy
at the end of hostilities.
Has Dr. Franklin been informed of this proposed truce?
In this matter, I am dealing directly with Lord North.
I remind Count Maurepas that our treaty with America guarantees its independence.
And independent it will be.
The bits they haven't lost, at least.
When did the first minister intend to inform me
of his discussions with London?
I am under no obligations to the foreign minister.
My responsibility is to His Majesty and to France.
We can't keep floating loans for a war we aren't winning.
France has made its point, sire.
We must come to terms with the enemy.
I am willing to abide by whatever Your Majesty decides.
But--
I will need the order in writing.
Did you say "in writing"?
If France is to quit the war, it must be under your signature, sire.
Just look what it's cost so far, Maurepas.
And no end in sight.
How would you arrange it?
Pin it all on Vergennes.
It's his mess after all.
And we come out smelling clean.
We'll discuss it later, hmm?
Quickly! It's Monsieur Maurepas.
-Is he breathing? -I'm not sure.
His heart gave out?
You're sure? Absolutely sure?
Barring resurrection, yes.
He's quite dead.
Well, then.
We mustn't pass up this opportunity.
Jean! Jean-Jean!
Monsieur Jacques.
I was just emptying the pots.
Of course you were, you dear old ox.
No one told me you were coming. The house isn't ready.
Don't worry about that, Jean-Jean.
We're here for the simple joys of the countryside.
To breathe fresh air. To look honest Christians in the eye…
To… What are we here for?
To fuck and kill!
Don't listen to him. He's got no manners.
All of you shut up!
May I introduce Mademoiselle Odette Caillot of the Comédie-Italienne.
-Sir. -Sir! Sir! He's not sir, he's Jean-Jean.
I want you to meet someone. Where's Temple?
Come on! Come on, Temple!
Jean-Jean, you know what you're looking at here?
A young gentleman?
An American. Do you know what that is?
A sort of Turk?
A free man. No one is his master!
His life, his fate, are his own!
What do you think of that?
Very nice, I'm sure.
Give me liberty! Or give me death!
Liberty or death!
Should I go find him?
Why? Are you his servant too?
What do you want?
The hunt's about to start.
I already caught something. I thought it was a stag, but it turned out to be a cat.
My dagger!
Here, sir.
You do the honors.
Through the heart!
You don't understand. The stag wants you to kill it.
It didn't look that way.
It's no different from a woman.
You have to chase her down. Or it's not worth anything.
And then the lance!
Isn't that so, darling?
With you, it's more like a pinky.
Ladies and gentlemen,
you are the sorriest lot of blackguards and doxies
it's ever been my misfortune to encounter.
I loathe you all and wish you nothing but a healthy dose of the clap.
We hate you too!
Because I can't stand the sight of any one of you,
someone needs to do something to amuse me, right now!
A song!
-A song! -The African princess!
Make the African sing!
She's not an African, you miserable cock-gobblers!
She's the jewel of the Comédie-Italienne.
And if you want to hear her, you'll have to beg for it.
-Won't they? -Stop it.
It's all good fun, angel.
Let's hear you beg.
You ebony goddess…
O, dark Venus…
Great sable Amazonian…
-Conquer us! -Conquer us!
You see? They worship you.
Just like I do.
When my lover's courting me
He aches, he sighs, he weeps
And spends the days just telling me
Of all his troubles deep
Oh, were he to spend time diff'rently
A merrier girl I'd be
I have to be paid back somehow--
But we're in the country.
The thing you need to learn about women--
"It's the mirror perilous"--
You can't go riding back to Paris in the middle of the night.
It's better than staying here.
You'll get yourself killed.
Another gentleman who wants to help me.
I'm not a gentleman.
Then what are you?
What are you even doing here?
I don't know. I…
What is "home"?
Where you belong.
You think he's your friend?
He doesn't have friends.
He has people he charms, or borrows money from,
or takes pleasure in humiliating.
And when he can't squeeze any more out of you, or just gets bored…
He won't even remember who you are.
Then why are you with him?
Why do you think?
He gives you jewels? Bought with his father's money?
And what can you offer?
A title? An estate? A diamond bracelet?
What will you dazzle me with?
Nothing. I have nothing.
I punched Jacques in the face.
What for?
Because no one should be allowed to treat you that way.
Odette, my jewel, come back to the party!
All right.
What? What?
I said, "All right."
-Mademoiselle Odette. I pledge myself-- -Stop talking.
Excuse me.
Sir?
-Where is everybody? -They're all gone.
-What? -They left. Hours ago.
Lord Little Shit and his friends.
How do I get back?
-Well. Well. Well. -Look who showed up.
We thought you didn't love us anymore.
That's all done with.
Why do you smell like old potatoes?
Where's Gilbert? What's going on?
Don't you know?
Long live America!
We sail for Virginia in a fortnight.
For real this time. With 7,000 men and the king's consent.
Even if he gave the command to Rochambeau.
-He's the more seasoned fighter. -Aren't we noble.
There'll be enough to keep us busy.
Remember when he used to be fun?
We'll have one hell of a time.
What should we do? For old times' sake?
What gives you the right?
Because Washington made you his pet?
But they won't give you an army, will they?
Why do you think that is?
-Watch yourself-- -Or what?
You talk a lot, but you never do anything.
I'll do something now.
And you're all a bunch of fools.