Querelle Page #6

we've become.

We were friends

right from the start.

I hope nothing happens to you.

Querelle's friendship for Gil

developed to the brink of love.

Like himself, Gil had killed.

He was a little Querelle

for whom Querelle maintained...

a strange feeling

of respect and curiosity.

As though he was standing before

the fetus of a baby Querelle.

He wanted to make love to him...

because he believed his tenderness

would be strengthened by it.

Because he would be

more closely linked to Gil...

whom he would then link

more closely to himself.

But he didn't know

how to go about it...

since he, having always been f***ed,

didn't know how to f*** a guy.

A gesture

would have embarrassed him.

- You're sweet, you know that?

- Why?

You let me kiss you like this

without complaining about it.

Why should I?

I told you you are my friend.

- This isn't bothering you, is it?

- No.

You've got to be

my very special friend forever.

- Do you understand?

- Yes.

- And will you?

- Yes.

In some obscure way...

Querelle understood

that love is voluntary.

You have to want it.

When you don't love men...

letting yourself get f***ed

can give you pleasure...

but to f*** men,

you have to love them...

even if only

at the moment you're f***ing.

So if he was to love Gil,

he would have to give up his passivity.

Querelle tried.

My friend.

What a shame we can't

stay together forever.

But we'll meet again.

To be together like here...

I'd like that.

The vision of the solitude

in which their love had developed...

increased his love for Gil.

And he felt to be

everything for him...

his one friend, his one family.

I never loved a boy before.

- You're the first one.

- Truly?

Truly.

Gil had finally resigned himself

to the other crime.

Little by little, he assumed

responsibility for the sailor's murder.

Hi.

You want something from me?

Depends.

On what?

On you.

I've got a tip for Mario.

But you've got to promise me you won't

tell anybody where it came from.

Nobody.

Never.

Is that clear?

I promise you.

That's all I can say.

That'll do.

You can tell Mario...

that this Polack...

this Gil Turko...

will be on the train

that leaves for Bordeaux at 4:20.

Ciao.

But loved by Querelle...

I would be loved

by every sailor in France...

because Querelle is a compendium of all

their masculine and naive virtues.

If I desire authority...

this admirable form

which evokes love and fear...

then I must awaken

a feeling for this authority...

in the heart of the sailors.

They ought to love me.

I want to be their father

and injure them.

I shall mark them.

They will hate me.

In the face of their misery

I shall remain unmoved.

More and more, the feeling

of perfect power will fill my being.

Having conquered my compassion,

I shall be strong...

and sad, when I regard

my pathetic disguise.

I know that I will

never leave Querelle.

My whole life will be

dedicated to him.

Good morning.

When I suffer,

I can not believe in God.

In pain,

all I can count on is myself...

in the misfortune for which

I have someone else to thank.

I always knew

you were a murderer!

Come on! Stab me!

We haveJesus to thank

that we are able to glorify humility...

for He made it

the sign of the divine.

The godhead in our

innermost depths...

For why should we renounce

the violence of this world?

If this Godhead

is to confront violence...

then it must be strong

if it is to achieve the victory.

And humility can only

be born of humiliation.

Otherwise it is nothing

but vanity.

Put away your knife.

- Good morning, Lieutenant.

- Good morning. What can I do for you?

Would you be good enough

to come with me to the police station?

Certainly.

For what reason?

I want you to look at a suspect.

It concerns the robbery.

- You have a suspect then, do you?

- We have.

Is that a fact?

Then I'll be glad

to come along with you.

Let's go.

Querelle was now Lysiane's lover.

The excitement she felt thinking about

the identity of the two brothers...

exasperated her

to such a degree that she felt lost.

What did you hope to achieve...

by attacking

your fellow worker Theo Celine?

- I wanted to kill him.

- You did?

So you already thought of killing him

when you broke the bottle...

with which

you mortally wounded him?

Yes, I wanted to kill him.

So, before you hit him, it was clear

that you might kill him with the bottle?

Absolutely, Inspector.

I wanted to kill him.

Why did you want to do that?

He hurt my honor and my soul.

How did he do that?

He made fun of me

in front of everybody...

including myself.

And that was reason enough

for you to kill a man?

Can one man do

anything worse to another...

than hurting his honor?

Well...

I suppose there are some differences

of opinion on that subject.

I repeat once again:

you killed the sailor Vic Rivette

to rob him of his money...

and you killed Theo Celine

because he hurt your honor.

Is that correct?

Yes.

That's correct.

And the robbery

of Naval Lieutenant Seblon?

It's exactly as I told you.

I had nothing to do with that one.

You're sticking

to your story on that. Fine.

- Marcellin?

- Yes, Inspector.

Well, Lieutenant, here he is.

Do you recognize him?

You, take off your hat.

And get up.

No, it's not him.

I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I must ask you

to think this one over very carefully.

Maybe you do remember

this young man.

I don't understand

what you're getting at.

I'm concerned with justice too.

I can't accuse an innocent man.

Are you absolutely certain?

Absolutely.

I would have recognized him right away

because his face was right next to mine.

Lieutenant, you may go now.

You haven't even

got a decent hard-on.

It doesn't stay up forever.

Buy yourself a rubber one.

You know...

I've dreamt a lot

about your prick lately.

Yeah?

Was it nicer in your dreams?

No.

I'm very satisfied.

You have a solid, heavy,

massive prick.

Not elegant, but strong.

And so different from Robert's.

Different how?

Your prick has more character.

Why did you refuse me for so long?

I didn't refuse you.

It's just that you were

my brother's woman.

And now?

Now I'm getting revenge

on my brother.

So...

that's the reason.

And me?

And me?

You?

You're just a woman.

Each man kills the thing he loves

Some do it with a bitter look

Some with a flattering word

The coward does it with a kiss

Careful, Querelle!

If you lose your footing,

you can sometimes fall very far.

Thanks, Inspector.

How about it?

Throw dice with me?

No.

I'll never throw dice

with you again.

Give me a double scotch.

They even have to get drunk

on the same day.

The "Holy Brothers."

I said a double.

Some kill their love

when they are young

And some when they are old

Some strangle with the hands of lust

Some with the hands of gold

Where are you going?

That's nobody's business.

Do you hear me?

Hey, you wanna get f***ed?

Come on, baby.

You wanna get f***ed by me?

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