Ridicule Page #3

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Our mouths he feeds but not our eyes.

What mental dexterity!

Your turn.

''Skill, will.''

''Newcomer, summer.''

Permit me, Countess?

Is it Flemish?

What workmanship!

Verse form?

Octosyllables.

The abbot's quick wit has such skill

It inspires in every newcomer

He can be entertaining at will

Once in winter

And once in the summer.

The Count of Artois

invited me to chocolate.

You're leaving?

On with the game!

I see the abbot trusts his memory

more than his wit.

What price is your silence?

Fear not. I will not fan

the winds of gossip.

You should use sealskins.

I will order some.

From Canada? That will be costly.

I will soon be wealthy.

- I used to swim here.

- You can swim?

I'll teach you.

Have you seen a drowned body?

It's horrible.

- Water harms only the fearful.

- Nonsense.

There are boats and bridges.

Why swim?

For fun.

There must be carp here.

What are court ladies like?

I hear they bathe in powder!

Many catch rich old goats,

but few can swim.

Perhaps they had no choice.

Is it also true

that suitors fish for favors?

You've changed.

You enjoy it.

You're becoming like them.

What are you doing?

Archimedes' law says I will float...

but how do I move forward?

Push your arms back

and move your legs like a frog.

I stand by what I said!

It's not natural!

I've been waiting for an hour,

yet you see him before me!

Patience denotes nobility.

The problem in your case

has been solved.

It's all settled.

But...

the birth certificate?

Were proof always required,

most nobles would be commoners.

Your title...

signed and sealed.

Good luck.

I am deeply grateful.

The Countess of Blayac deserves...

the bulk of your gratitude.

The piety of children

gives the kingdom strength.

Your parish will be cared for.

Now please excuse me, Father.

Christ be with you.

How can I thank you?

Please don't. I'm sorry

you caught me dispensing charity.

Your heart is good.

So many give for show.

My wit has greater renown

than my heart...

but you decide.

Does engineering interest you?

Since I met you, Mr. Engineer.

Tell me about your project.

Beneath my homeland

is a layer of clay that traps rain.

The drainage--

A muddy subject!

I want to hear of inventions.

The king can tell you more than I.

He does often talk of them.

You know tales of woe.

I've imposed long enough.

Thanks are no imposition.

Sit down.

Let's chat.

I hear Miss de Bellegarde is pretty...

but nobody sees her.

Does our intimacy embarrass you?

You think me clumsy for...

I am torn between respect for you...

and desire.

How convoluted...

for a man of wit!

Must you dine to shine?

Countess, don't be cruel.

I would be flattered

were it not for the fact...

that my bedroom is known

to lead to the king.

You misjudge me.

Swallow your pride.

Let people help you.

Learn to hide your insincerity...

so that I can yield without dishonor.

Remember only that...

and you've profited here.

The record is 1 4 minutes.

We can beat it.

Not me. You almost drowned!

I forbade you to do it!

''Forbade?''

Who are you to forbid me?

Not even my father dares.

Would you care if I died?

It would finish off your fianc.

His wife finally died.

You'll be married...

as soon as decency permits.

He's kind, and his children love me.

I'm keeping this.

Ask me for it next time.

I dread this marriage!

I doubt it. You're cold-blooded.

You belong with the fish!

Give me back my helmet!

I will miss her.

Have you no sweetheart yourself?

I am poor.

What have I to offer

but swamps and fever?

Fine life for a lady.

To be happy we need women.

To them, a man's fears

are never ridiculous.

Watch the hat

on the grey horse's rider.

The king is selecting.

Have we a chance?

Not so loud!

Some have waited months...

like de Guret.

I prefer my swamps to this.

The king heard about your horse quip.

Will it work?

Alas, the ''eunuch''joke

is also on everyone's lips.

Make no mistakes!

What an angel!

Baron de Guret!

Lend me your shoe!

- I'd be ridiculed!

- I beg you! I was called!

People are staring!

Louis of France!

Remember, the nobles made you king...

those whom you now humiliate.

You abase us...

yet give a savage

the cross of St. Louis!

Come away! We don't belong here.

The Sioux are our friends.

Half-naked with a necklace of bones...

and the name of Stinking Bear...

yet he almost makes us look ridiculous.

We see so little of you.

Sire, the Abbot of Vilecourt.

''Every harem has its eunuch!''

I've heard of you.

It's only de Bellegarde's idiot.

She's here, Madame.

Show her in.

Your father sings your praises...

but he hides you.

Will we see you at court one day?

You ordered my father

to send Paul away.

Please forgive him.

Alas, the harm is done.

He's only a poor deaf-mute.

He'll be happier with his kind.

He's always been with us.

You haven't come about the boy.

I am well disposed to you.

I am fond of your father...

and I help my friends.

One day, you will see.

Madame, Paul!

You're yet a child.

Forget that half-wit.

How fares

our Mr. Ponceludon de Malavoy?

Such a pretty wit!

He's very well.

I had heard of your learning...

but not of your beauty.

Are you also witty?

He'll be fine.

You've called them prisons.

The Abbot of l'Epe

runs a very good home.

More straw? Fewer lashes?

I had no choice.

Courtesy demanded it.

Courtesy!

What makes you so gloomy?

Ponceludon de Malavoy!

He saw us cheat at epigrams.

He could ridicule me

in front of the king.

Don't worry.

He'll never sit at the king's table.

Leave it to me.

Do you think I've lost my claws?

I'll have a dinner...

and serve Ponceludon de Malavoy

a dish of ridicule.

Is this yours?

The countess won't make

your rendezvous.

She's playing piquet

with Madame de Lamballe.

Love's course

is never a straight line...

Mr. Engineer.

I'll remember your geometry.

Tomorrow she's giving a dinner for wits.

You're invited.

Alone.

I don't pretend to inspire passion...

but at 30,

Mathilde will be a wealthy widow.

Very wealthy.

With her whole life before her.

A drummer boy

at the battle of Fontenoy...

who had half his head shot off

by a cannonball...

managed to shout out...

''I fear I'm losing my mind!''

Now that took wit!

A carriage at this hour?

It's for me.

A lover's tryst?

I'll leave a lantern out for you.

Good night.

How unlucky!

There are thirteen of us.

We must ask a footman to sit with us.

A killing cure!

Sit with a footman?

We'd look ridiculous!

Then one of us must leave.

He of lowest rank.

I propose a contest.

He who has shown the least wit

when the soup arrives must go.

A tournament of wit!

So be it.

Let the contest begin.

How is your wife, Monsieur?

Asking a man about his wife...

is like asking about

last year's fashions.

I pray to the Virgin once a month...

to avoid talk

if my wife gets pregnant.

A wife who sleeps with her husband

is in labor.

Why not go to a brothel?

The good company there isn't bad...

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