Gallant Ladies Page #4

---

They receive orders,

stipends and medals...

while I get nothing at all!

You see this key? It has shown

my rank since I was 16.

Gentleman of the King's Chamber!

Damn his key!

Let them all go to Rabelais' hell.

I'll leave France and go to Spain.

Philip II values me highly.

Let's put the fire out. It's too hot.

Yes, ma'am.

I'm Mme. de Bourdeille,

his brother's widow.

How is he feeling?

He was in agony for 4 days.

The doctors won't say.

Good day, Brantme.

You don't look too debilitated!

Oh, but I am, ma'am.

Leave us.

The king, my brother, has banished me.

I had to leave the Ile-de-France.

I never take this off.

The man who gave it to me

avenged two close friends.

He was killed the day

after he gave it to me.

Hurry up and get better, Brantme.

You've made me want you.

Alas, ma'am...

I don't know if I'll ever walk again.

My spine was broken in 2 places.

I didn't know about your accident.

I left Paris with a whole

trunk of aphrodisiacs.

I need powders and pills to make love.

At 19, my mother gave them to me...

when I was forced

to marry against my will.

I slept with Henri de Navarre for 7

months without speaking to him.

He made love to me

the hundred times you know of...

but that was all.

It makes me mad to be lying here.

Be silent!

I'm cold.

Don't move.

Your lips are burning.

You're feverish.

Since I started seeing the world...

I've always enjoyed travelling.

But the finest journeys...

were embarked upon in bed...

with a lady.

Montaigne says one should

lend oneself to others...

and give only to oneself.

I've lent myself a lot.

So have I.

But the glowing embers

of passion are not enough.

For love to be good

and tender, you need...

the sting and a slow burn.

Imagination! Without that,

love can't exist. If not...

how can you renew the sting?

Some time ago, when I spotted

a man I wanted to love...

I had him brought to me blindfolded.

I didn't speak so

he didn't know who I was.

That happened to me once...

in the country...

It wasn't me! I'd remember.

Good beddings or bad, I never forget.

Are you asleep?

The devil never sleeps.

Get well soon and send me your news.

I have to go. My younger

brother is very ill.

If Monsieur dies, what will happen?

We'll simply survive in these

days of treachery...

and banditry.

You're lucky to be indoors.

War is back again.

Thanks for last night.

Follow your inclination.

Write down your memoirs.

I already started, years ago.

It will be another way

for women to share your bed.

Describe your lusting, but no names.

And please, just talk

of the best in love.

You mustn't mention the rest.

I've always thought

you'd die making love.

Your face shows it at those moments.

Thank you, Lord!

You're floppy, sir. All of a droop!

Sorry, madam, my nerve has gone.

Stop titillating my wife!

Should Brantme die,

keep his heart for me...

to compare it to M. de Bussy's.

I chose you for your fine hand.

You'll share secrets with me.

Not a word to anyone,

or I'll have you killed.

It's to be published after I die...

as it's too sensitive.

First speech:

"Women and their cuckolded husbands."

There were of course, in my day...

virtuous ladies.

I won't talk of them.

Hearty ladies...

suffice to make me happy.

TWO YEARS LATER:

Left leg! Right leg! Left!

Right!

The bonesetter said

that with your constitution...

you'd be better next year.

Left!

Don't complain. You're

missing the troubles.

The Huguenots were here last night.

I chased them off.

Left leg!

Right leg!

ANOTHER TWO YEARS LATER

Where was I?

"She was twitching in my mind..."

Ah, yes!

Her flesh was beautiful...

and her skin was immaculate.

Yes, let's work.

Her conversation

was studded with oaths...

which, on her lips...

became diamonds.

It was said...

that she gave more... than she promised.

So I joined the ranks.

She welcomed me abed,

a feast for my eyes.

"Are you hungry? Do you

like good food?" she asked.

Happily, I answered yes.

"We can move on then," she said.

"Lechery is just a type of gastronomy."

By the way, your soup's ready.

Did you see a lot of that lady?

She fell in love and married.

Her husband was a real rake.

She caught him with his mistress

and killed him herself.

One should never obey one's feelings.

How wonderful all this is!

You've made me the happiest of men.

I'm cured, cured!

I owe you everything.

We were made for each other.

I must start riding again and go

to Paris as soon as I can.

Just think... Paris is in turmoil.

I have to go to serve the Queen Mother.

It will help my writing.

I can find out how my ladies are.

Later, I'll marry you.

When we've lived well separately...

we'll marry, I promise.

Mme. de Saint-Luc! You're in a hurry.

I'm going to church. I'm fasting.

To calm the pricking of the flesh?

All that's behind me now.

Women aren't as jolly now.

I was in the country.

I can tell.

I wish to greet the king.

Come on.

What became of Victoire?

She hasn't been seen out since her

third husband died.

And the Queen of Navarre?

She's a prisoner, somewhere in Auvergne.

She pulled too many strings.

I don't understand...

Are you still alive?

Someone to amuse us at last.

You arrive like the Messiah to help

me with this thorny matter.

Tell him what you said.

My husband makes love to me too much.

How many times a day?

I've counted up to 32 times.

Poor woman!

He's beaten you!

What would you decide?

On such a matter...

the Queen of Aragon stated

that a fair limit...

should be six times a day.

If the lady agrees.

Well, the King of France

follows the example.

Only six?

You can't reproach me with anything.

I've never been unfaithful to her!

It seems you're keeping

a record of our intimate deeds.

I could have you arrested, you know.

I only write of famous

ladies and warriors.

Yes, yes, nothing but bedroom secrets.

You're only writing to prolong

the burning desire...

De Guise's men are entering Paris.

I won't give in to a Papist

paid by the King of Spain.

I won't be his prisoner!

The people have taken to the streets.

Ah, Brantme, I've often

envied your life.

Being just a witness, a memorialist.

A king writes history, Sire.

I just tell it.

To each his own.

I've spent my time

stitching France together.

Brantme, we were missing you.

I'm happy to see you so well, ma'am.

In the evening, we eat a light meal.

Two quail roasted in vine leaves...

a good pear grilled in the embers...

and a jug of wine.

That's enough and it does us good.

You find us in total disarray.

We have to leave Paris...

hounded out by the Duc de Guise.

For how long?

Are our ladies-in-waiting in your books?

I only tell the truth.

That's what's worrying us.

Give us your manuscripts...

and we'll judge for ourselves.

We'll give you one last chance.

Come to the Loire and we'll pardon you.

I can't, ma'am.

Because of a lady?

You're incorrigible! Leave us now.

I was one of the only men allowed

into the ladies' quarters...

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes