Scaramouche Page #2

- l have only one urge at the moment.

- l know.

To marry me.

- Marry you?

- Yes.

Why didn't you tell me?

- Why didn't you ask me?

- But you never mentioned it.

Darling.

But... my other bridegroom...

Your other bridegroom

is no longer with us.

l shall always remember him.

And now, to make you respectable.

- Excuse me, my darling.

- Where are you going?

- Philippe will be waiting.

- Philippe?

Philippe de Valmorin. My best friend.

You know, my best man.

He promised to be here at noon

with the ring.

Andre!

Don't be nervous.

What's your name?

lvan the Terrible. What's yours?

lf you're Andre Moreau, you must go

to Philippe's at once. There's trouble.

All right, come on!

- Andre, stop!

- All right, my pet, don't be nervous.

- Andre, what happened?

- Unforeseen accident.

Owing to circumstances

entirely beyond my control...

l'm afraid there'll be a slight delay

before l make you my own.

Don't be nervous.

- What's that?

- lt's a carriage. Stopping here.

What do you mean?

- ls it Andre?

- No. lt's a coachman. He's jumped down.

He's coming in. Here.

Good morning.

- Thank heaven you're here.

- Delighted to see you, sir.

- What's happened here, a hurricane?

- No. The King's men.

- They came for Philippe.

- Philippe?

What for? Did they take him?

No, he's safe. But they're still outside

watching the house.

See? Hiding there in the doorway.

They looked everywhere.

Breaking, smashing things.

- lt was dreadful.

- Where is he?

Andre, you're dressed very oddly.

Are you in trouble, too?

Well, not yet, darling, but it threatens.

l've a young lady downstairs in the coach

with an itch to be married.

She's made two attempts since breakfast,

and her temper is rising.

l've heard of the bridegroom

running for cover...

- but never the best man. What happened?

- They found out l wrote this.

"Liberty, Equality, Fraternity,

by Marcus Brutus."

l'm Marcus Brutus.

There are copies all over Paris.

We even smuggled some

into the royal bedchamber.

- We?

- Thousands of us, Father.

United against the aristocratic tyrants.

l take it aristocratic tyrants

includes your own father and mother?

- Father, please.

- l may be a poor man...

but by birth l am an aristocrat.

- And so are you.

- Please.

- That pamphlet is high treason.

- Father, you don't understand.

Well, what do you think of it?

The grammar is appalling.

On the first page...

you doubled a negative, split an infinitive,

and left out three commas.

lnfinitives, negatives, commas.

He prattles punctuation

and France is in agony.

ln agony? l wasn't aware of it.

You never take anything seriously.

Nothing matters to you.

Why do you fight with your best friend

when your own life is in danger?

- What's to be done, Andre?

- Marcus Brutus must go into hiding.

We've got to get him

out of the city at once.

How?

l haven't the slightest idea.

Unless...

Get into this.

Listen carefully.

Outside there's a horse and coach.

Go boldly out,

mount the box and drive off.

No one will question you,

except the lady inside.

She may become violent. Drive her to

the Forest of Beauvry. You have money?

- Five crowns.

- Scarcely enough to start a revolution.

l'll get the money. Meet me at

the signpost in the forest at 9:00 tonight.

ls that clear? Off with you.

Goodbye, Mother.

- l'm sorry, Father.

- Take my sword.

Try not to dishonor it.

Thank you, Father.

Good luck.

lt's all right.

He's very young. Look after him.

As you've always looked after me.

l swear it.

God bless you, Andre.

And now for the stuff

that makes fools of princes...

and princes of fools. Money.

Andre, you be careful what you do.

Precisely my intention.

l go now to consult my attorney...

the eminent lawyer Fabian.

ls this the bald pate of the lawyer Fabian?

Yes.

- Moreau, l can't see you.

- You must be shortsighted. l'm here.

Be good enough to make out an advance

on my allowance for next year, say half.

Next year's allowance? lmpossible!

Figaro, you may leave us.

But there is no more money. None at all.

- Didn't you get my letter?

- l never read letters.

But l wrote and told you

the allowance has been stopped.

Stopped?

The gentleman is no longer able

to provide for your welfare.

Put that thing down and get out of here.

l shall go to this gentleman

and extract the allowance in person.

- What is his name?

- His name?

lmpossible.

You know l can't do that, Andre.

l know nothing at all!

For 30-odd years...

l have made a profession of ignorance with

particular reference to my real name...

my obscure beginnings,

and my mysterious birth.

lf you fidget, l may draw blood.

You're making me nervous. Where was l?

Yes, my birth.

Being adequately financed

by whoever was responsible...

for my arrival in what is termed

"the wrong side of the blanket"...

l was content

to be ignorant of my parentage.

But now l need money.

lt is at this moment

that my elusive papa concludes...

that his duty is done...

and that there should be

no more cakes and ale...

for his mischievous youth.

A lamentable conclusion in any event,

but at this moment, deplorably timed.

We must therefore face the fact...

that the hour has come

to tear down the veil...

and unmask this philandering gentleman.

Who is he, Fabian? Who is my father?

No! l won't tell.

You're making me nervous again.

l can't betray a client's confidence.

Look at my hand,

how it shakes and trembles with emotion.

What is his name, Fabian?

The name of my father. What is it?

Count de Gavrillac.

- The address?

- ln Normandy.

The manor of Gavrillac. Near Dieppe.

Here l am, Andre!

All in one piece? Where's the lady?

My bride-to-be, the light of my life.

- Come on, boy. Where's Lenore?

- l don't know. l mislaid her.

You mislaid her?

What is she, a button, a handkerchief that

can be dropped or sent to the laundry?

You dunderhead, where is she?

When we stopped at the city gates,

she was out and away...

before l could catch her.

Say, did she leave any message?

She just left.

l'm sorry, Andre. l let you down again.

The oceans are full of fish

and the heavens with stars.

To contemplate one woman

to the exclusion of others...

may be for some men, but not for me.

Come on, boy. To Gavrillac!

lt's coming, Andre, and no one can stop it.

The apple cart the tyrants are riding

will be overturned.

l tell you, it can't be much longer.

Longer?

l think it's already happened.

Happy the rascal traveling life's byway...

to whom the gods say,

"Here's an easy switch

"You may have lost Diana on the highway

"But, look, there is Aphrodite in a ditch"

- Molire?

- Moreau.

Andre Moreau at your service.

You make up poetry, Andre Moreau.

A carriage maker would be more apropos.

l suppose you don't know

how to mend a broken wheel?

Unfortunately, no.

- A broken heart, now...

- Thank you. My heart is quite intact.

l envy you.

Mine is in chains from this moment.

The lady's carriage needs attention.

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