Ridicule

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Do you remember me?

Think hard.

Have I changed so much?

Remember...

the ''Marquis de Stumblebum''?

You dubbed me that

when I fell at a ball.

Stumblebum. So wounding!

I never lived it down.

Where is your fine wit now?

All gone?

What a loss for society.

Since my exile...

I've seen many lands...

with far ruder manners.

Yet I've never forgotten it.

But I am tiring you.

I'll wait on Madame and let him rest.

She's expecting you.

I fear that in his joy,

Monsieur forgot himself.

- Go home.

- But, Monsieur--

Your teeth are chattering.

You're sick.

We're short of hands.

His father has the fever.

They say the king can cure the sick.

All men can work miracles.

Don't you believe me?

Here's a promise.

We'll rid this swamp of evil.

- By having masses sung?

- No masses.

We'll build dikes and canals...

plant trees and grow crops.

Then the land will be beautiful.

You're home.

When you see the king,

ask him to bless my medallion.

I will, Lonard.

Let me bless you.

Your mother fears for you

at Versailles.

Preach hope on Sunday.

I preach hope in God.

At Versailles, one man's will

turned swamps into gardens.

The will of a king!

I'll knock on every door...

right up to the king!

Kneel down.

Take your hat off!.

Farewell.

The finest wit of our age.

And so handsome.

Milletail!

Back from America!

I missed the stench of Versailles.

I'm surprised you're here.

I'd rather bury him alive...

but God is our master.

Gentlemen! We're praying!

Come dine with me.

A roasted chicken is better company.

Madame de Blayac will grieve for days!

Is this the Blayac house?

Are you related?

- I have an introduction to Monsieur.

- He's seeing visitors now.

You'll recognize him by his widow.

His wit was a shining light.

He valued your opinion.

The Academy grieves.

He cared for it deeply.

What a loss.

Lord, what a loss.

Your husband was a friend of my father.

And of mine.

I've come from afar.

Do you know Versailles?

I was born here by chance.

A courtier by birth.

Not everyone born in a stable

thinks he's a horse.

God is our only judge.

What, friend?

God pardons the starving.

We meet again.

What a pleasure.

Whom have I the honor to bleed?

Grgoire Ponceludon de Malavoy.

Marquis de Bellegarde.

Charlotte, my housekeeper...

and her son Paul.

He's deaf and dumb.

A harmless idiot.

Travellers should be better warned...

about the robbers around Versailles.

A good doctor must judge blood...

the way a gourmet judges wine.

A nice, hearty red.

Fluid but substantial.

You live in fresh air

and eat lean meat.

I live in foul air,

and we eat mostly carp.

My drawings!

- You're a water engineer?

- I am.

I have come to Versailles

to seek aid for this drainage project.

It's easier to be seen than heard.

I'll appeal to reason and compassion.

Are you so ignorant

of the ways of Versailles?

I've bled you white.

You must rest.

Two days in bed, light food

and a glass of wine each night.

Night is for sleeping.

You exhaust yourself in vain.

''Study Addressed to the Regent...

Concerning Epidemics in the Dombes

and Suggested Remedies''

by the Marquis de Gora.

It was never opened.

Will your study fare any better?

Thank you.

You've spared me disappointment.

I've seen so many country gentlemen.

I'll plead my case orally.

And here I'll build a lock

to create a storage pool.

His Majesty would certainly

be interested in this.

He delights in all things technical.

His subjects are dying of fever.

I know he's compassionate.

Too compassionate!

Which is why I certainly won't

inform him of your plans...

nor of those to dig...

a tunnel to England,

drain the Landes...

or make a map of India.

All very useful, no doubt...

but very costly.

At least drain the swamps!

You mean drain France's treasury!

I control its accounts.

You understand the problem.

What is a life worth?

Less than the destiny of France...

except to philosophers.

Good-bye. I have work to do.

I'll open the king's eyes!

Please do!

The Right Wing

is bankrupting the nation.

I am in charge of military engineering.

Mr. Maurepas is old and cautious.

A man of youth and vigor--

My duties are too great

to permit me to listen to flattery.

In the Left Wing...

we do not deal in favors.

Good-bye, sir.

I advise you...

to write a study,

and I will circulate it.

The Left Wing is for ministers

who serve the kingdom's needs.

The Right Wing is for courtiers...

who serve their own needs.

I only want to see the king.

Only? You jest!

We call you people ''suitors.''

There are thousands of you.

Some succeed!

Help me.

Present me at court.

You'll be more useful at home.

I need the support of Versailles.

You suitors!

You come dreaming of titles and grants.

The court! The court!

It intoxicates you.

I doubt you have

what it takes to be heard.

Go home, Monsieur...

and thank me.

I'm sorry I troubled you.

Double three...

or I'll tell the Church's secret.

Do tell!

Oh, well, Purgatory doesn't exist.

Isn't that your patient?

Fresh from the country, you must find

our courtly ways ridiculous.

''Judge not,

lest not ye be judged.''

Were the Gospels of any use

at Versailles, I would have heard.

Join us if you wish.

We play 1 0 sols a point.

My shoe buckles are all I have.

You'll judge their worth better

by bowing lower.

What seek you here?

A grant to rid our swamps

of mosquitoes.

Our peasants all die young.

Poor people!

They're not only dying, they're boring.

Remember, Monsieur...

peasants not only feed mosquitoes

but aristocrats.

He's smarter than he looks.

That's where we differ, Monsieur.

Her Majesty the Queen!

Blayac!

May I borrow the abbot?

At your service, ma'am.

I'm playing piquet

with such dull people!

I need some witty company.

Thank you. I'll give him back.

Perhaps you were busy?

It's of no importance.

Your patient has regained his wits.

Is it thanks to you?

I venture to hope so.

His tongue is certainly agile.

I miss you at my suppers.

I await the pleasure.

You need an invitation?

Bring your protg.

Double six!

Your first skirmishes

bode well for you.

The abbot is close to the queen.

I crossed him.

Wit opens every door...

and you have plenty of it.

Who cares about the Dombes?

Only you, of course. But be patient.

If the court takes to you...

your Dombes will be cared for.

I've spent a year's money in a week.

If you don't mind discomfort,

stay with me.

I tried to dissuade you,

but now I will help.

What changed your mind?

Honesty and wit

are so rarely united.

Too much powder yellows the teeth.

Feature your youthful complexion.

A little rouge adds color.

Is the countess close to the king?

Serious topics are deplored.

Avoid them.

I'll restrain myself.

Be witty, sharp and malicious...

and you'll succeed.

No puns!

At Versailles, we call puns

''the death of wit.''

Voltaire! My bible.

One last thing:

Never laugh at your own jokes.

Red currants!

I adore red currants!

I could eat as many

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