Queen Christina Page #2

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- No reason.

How wonderful to be happy for no reason.

Let's go for a sleigh ride.

- I can't now.

- Why not?

- Ambassadors, treaties, councils.

- How boring.

- But we'll go afterward, Ebba.

- You always say that.

But at the end of the day,

you are never free to go anywhere.

You are surrounded by musty old papers

and musty old men...

and I can't get near you.

Today, I will dispose of them by sundown,

I promise you.

And we will go away,

two or three days in the country.

- Wouldn't you like that?

- I'd love it.

The French Ambassador, Monsieur Chanut,

is waiting in the council chamber.

There, they begin.

Countess, you're dismissed. Run along.

I have good news for you,

Monsieur Chanut.

Your countryman, the philosopher

Descartes, is coming here.

What happier destiny for a Frenchman

than to come to you, Madame.

You are the only Ambassador,

Monsieur Chanut...

who doesn't treat me like an institution.

I must confess, it's very agreeable.

That is charming of you, Madame.

But the arrival of the Spanish Ambassador

makes it especially urgent...

that you sign the treaty with France now.

Do not fear, Monsieur Chanut.

The Spaniard's arrival cannot disturb

the natural harmony...

between Sweden and France.

But the strained relations, Madame,

between my government and Spain...

They can never affect ours,

Monsieur Chanut.

Madame, you are my despair.

Why?

Because you rebuff me always

with such charm...

that at the end of all our interviews

I find myself always in a veritable glow...

of disappointment.

And I, of anticipation.

Your Majesty, our university at Uppsala

is the oldest in Sweden...

one of the oldest in Europe.

To admit professors from Spain and Italy

might corrupt the purity of our teaching.

The danger is not so much of corruption

as of staleness.

We need new wine in the old bottles.

Here is the new draft of the treaty

with Cromwell, Your Majesty.

There are several important changes in it,

so if you read it, please...

that I may know your opinion.

I will do so, Chancellor.

Your Majesty, I must again speak to you

about your marriage with Prince Charles.

This eternal talk about Charles.

I cannot tell you how it wearies me.

I do not see eye to eye with Charles

about anything.

- He is a hero.

- There are varieties of heroes.

He is a hero at fighting,

and fighting bores me.

- His only gift is with the sword.

- The sword has made Sweden great.

Yes, but do we not exalt that gift

too much, Chancellor?

You cannot remake the world,

Your Majesty.

Why not?

Look, Chancellor, the philosophers

remake it, the artists remake it...

the scientists remake it.

Why not we who wield the power?

The people follow blindly the generals

who lead them to destruction.

Will they not follow us who lead them

beyond themselves...

where there is grace and beauty,

gaiety and freedom?

Europe is an armed camp, Your Majesty,

not Utopia peopled with shepherds.

But Chancellor...

Snow again. Eternal snow.

Your Majesty, it is for Sweden.

It is your duty.

Why is it my duty?

My days and nights are given up

to the service of the state.

I am so cramped with duty

that to be able to read a book...

I have to rise in the middle of the night.

I serve the people with all my thoughts,

with all my energy...

with all my dreams, waking and sleeping.

I do not wish to marry,

and they cannot force me.

You must give Sweden an heir.

Not by Charles, Chancellor.

You are Sweden's Queen.

You are your father's daughter.

Must we live for the dead?

For the great dead?

Yes, Your Majesty.

Snow is like a wide sea.

One could go out and be lost in it...

and forget the world and oneself.

There are rumors that Your Majesty

is planning a foreign marriage.

They are baseless.

But, Your Majesty,

you cannot die an old maid.

I have no intention to, Chancellor.

I shall die a bachelor.

Of course, Magnus, you heard everything.

No wonder you are so well-informed.

I am rather disappointed

you are not going to marry Charles.

I'd much rather him than another.

Charles spends all his time

reviewing troops.

It doesn't become you

to make fun of Charles.

He has risked his life for his country.

He, at least, is no opportunist.

You're serious today.

- It isn't that, Magnus.

- No? What then?

I look at you and I look at a stranger.

A stranger whom I do not altogether like.

I grant you your preferences,

if you will love me.

Love you?

I wonder now, Magnus,

if I have ever loved you.

I am your destiny, Christina.

Are you?

- I long to escape my destiny.

- You will long to return to it.

- Where is Countess Ebba?

- In her chamber, Your Majesty.

The Queen is selfish. It is simple for her.

She orders and you obey.

How long are you going on this way?

Every time we meet,

you promise to tell her...

you love me and you want to marry me

and you never do.

The Queen is so dominating.

She's interested only in her own concerns.

She never asks me.

Your Majesty.

Leave us.

- Forgive me. Forgive him.

- It is you I cannot forgive, Ebba.

You needn't fear my domination

any longer.

Your Majesty, please.

You pretended to be interested

in me and my problems.

Your sympathy, your concern...

all pretense,

underneath which you resent me.

You do not understand, Your Majesty.

The difficulty is, Ebba, that I do.

Your Majesty.

What now?

I must warn you about the impending

visit of the Spanish envoy.

Sweden is the great Protestant stronghold

of Europe.

Therefore, with this Spaniard,

you must be polite but reserved.

Very well.

What is this?

The people know that Prince Charles

is visiting you here.

They are excited about it.

They want to see their Queen.

Must I smile for the masses, Chancellor?

That is not too much to do for the people.

We want Prince Charles as our King!

Christina, our Queen!

Long live Charles Gustavus!

Long live Prince Charles!

- Sweden for the Swedes!

- Prince Charles for our King!

This is what comes, Chancellor,

from feeding the people a false hope.

- Aage.

- Your Majesty?

My riding coat. We go out in the snow.

- To hunt, Your Majesty?

- At least not be hunted.

Foreigners.

Spaniards.

You find this amusing, do you?

Where is that fool of a coachman?

It's not his fault.

The ditch is full of soft snow.

- It often happens like that here.

- What a country.

Aage, get the robe, put it under the wheel.

Tell the coachman to take off his robe

and put it under the other wheel.

Now, all together, with a big heave.

Aage, hold the horses.

Now all together, push!

That's splendid.

How far is it to the nearest inn?

Two leagues.

You can be there by nightfall.

That is, unless you fall into another ditch.

Give the boy a thaler, Pedro.

Where is the landlord?

- There he is.

- Coming.

What can I do for you, young man?

Supper, room and bed.

I have only one room vacant.

That's the best one.

That's for people of quality,

costs three thaler.

Give him 10, Aage.

Thank you, My Lord.

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