The Duellists

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The duelist demands satisfaction.

Honor for him is an appetite.

This story is about

an eccentric kind of hunger.

It is a true story,

and begins in the year...

that Napoleon Bonaparte

became ruler of France.

Gentlemen, General Treillard.

Who knows Lieutenant Feraud...

7th Hussars?

I do, sir.

- You know him well?

- I've once or twice come across him.

Tell him he's confined to his quarters

under close arrest.

Lieutenant Feraud has skewered

the mayor's nephew...

in an affair of honor,

half a minute's work.

I have spent the last two hours

apologizing to the mayor on his behalf.

Could you convey to Lieutenant Feraud

how much I should be likely...

to enjoy that?

- I hope so, sir.

- Yeah, I hope so too.

In case he feels an interest,

the mayor's nephew is still alive.

More or less.

Tell him I shall take pleasure...

in seeing him later.

I want some food!

Perhaps you could rout out a crust.

I regret the interruption.

Sir.

- Is Lieutenant Feraud at home?

- He's gone out.

- Gone out where?

- I don't know.

My dear, this is very important.

Soldier's business, of course.

He went to pay a call.

Pay a call on whom?

I'm sure he keeps nothing from you.

Madame de Lionne.

Did he?

He has an angel at home, and off he

goes paying a call on Madame de Lionne.

He must be quite blind.

Thank you.

Madame.

I must ask you

to pardon this intrusion.

I'm here on military business,

which is...

a lamentable reason

for invading your drawing room.

Come again this evening

and plead your forgiveness.

You are most gracious.

Madame, I have orders

for Lieutenant Feraud.

Please excuse us.

I have an order to convey to you

from General Treillard.

You are to report to your quarters

and remain there under close arrest.

What did you say?

I'm only a messenger.

That must be obvious to you.

Have you heard my message?

Yes, damn you, I heard your message.

Under arrest for what?

You did fight a duel this morning?

Of course.

You make dueling sound like

a pastime in the Garden of Eden.

I think we ought to leave now,

don't you agree?

What have I done?

Was I to let some sauerkraut-eater...

wipe his boots on the uniform

of the 7th Hussars?

The sauerkraut-eater's uncle

happens to be the mayor of Strasbourg.

The general was obliged

to acknowledge his complaint.

Then I'm obliged to the general? Should

I be grateful to you for finding me?

Frankly, I think you ought to be.

I had no end of trouble

finding where you were.

- Better calm yourself.

- Calm myself?

- Better calm yourself.

- Calm myself?

I do advocate it most earnestly.

Would you let them spit upon

Napoleon Bonaparte?

Bonaparte has no more to do with this

than Madame de Lionne.

You think that name's common

coin for the street?

Whichever name you choose to defend,

I'd use it...

with the utmost respect

and solely in the cause of logic.

What do you mean, whichever name?

You know damn well which name.

Could you leave us alone, please?

Your duty is to victimize me.

Am I mistaken?

You were chosen to hunt me out

in the drawing room of a lady...

toward whom I feel the deepest...

I respect

your inexpressible sentiment.

But I can assure you that the hunting

was no choice of mine.

You've insulted me.

You have insulted me!

I have strained my patience

in order not to do so.

- I demand an apology!

- This is too ridiculous.

Really too ridiculous.

A proper general's poodle.

Can you fight?

I see no reason whatever

for us to fight.

What reason would you like?

Shall I spit in your face?

Shall I cut a chunk out of your back,

or would that be too ridiculous?

How do you get back to your

general now? Through the window?

I believe you're really

quite a madman.

You draw your sword.

You draw your sword.

Or by God, I'll chase you

down the street like a chicken!

You will chase me nowhere.

I will be delighted to fight you

at the first opportunity.

We'll fight now.

At this moment I'm here on duty,

and you are under arrest...

- Now!

- For dueling, you ape!

Now!

- You fight now.

- Where?

In the garden.

- I want seconds.

- I'll find you seconds.

Old man...

stand here... and watch me.

Enter.

You've been scratched by a woman.

Correct.

Did you commit a crime of passion?

Certainly not.

I agree.

That would be out of character.

Well, what happened?

- I wounded a man in a duel.

- What type of wound?

- A cut across the forearm.

- Name of adversary?

- Gabriel Feraud.

- He fought a duel this morning.

He also fought a duel

this afternoon.

I've anatomized the military man.

I have literally

picked through his brains.

It's my fate

to go on putting him together.

I haven't the slightest idea

how he works.

Where do I find this...

Lieutenant Feraud?

What was the cause of the quarrel?

Ask him.

Cause of quarrel... obscure.

So, prepare to be more civilized.

A tomcat would never dream of sending

a surgeon to another tomcat.

You could try this on your face.

You were recommended to me as

a reliable, intelligent young officer.

You're a damn disgrace.

You look a damned disgrace,

like a damned Hottentot.

Look at yourself.

You will return

to your regiment at once.

I have no further use for you.

Pending a court inquiry, you will be

confined to barracks under close arrest.

Go on.

Sir, I shall welcome an inquiry.

You will, will you...

Lieutenant?

If you emerge from it

pure as driven snow...

you'll remain an imbecile.

Get out.

The whole town is buzzing with it.

I spoke with a delightful old gentleman

who affected to believe...

in the transmigration of souls.

He suggested you had both been

enemies in a previous incarnation.

What did Feraud suggest?

He kept remarkably quiet about it,

much like yourself.

Well...

it will all come out at the inquiry.

There won't be any inquiry.

- You're disappointed?

- War?

Yes, yes.

War again.

You'll be a free man back

with your troop in the morning.

- Good.

- Imagined you would think so.

So I have brought...

two bottles...

one corkscrew...

and my flute.

- Feraud intends to kill you.

- Is that what he says?

Oh, not to me,

but rumor goes around.

Damn him anyway!

He's most unreasonable.

The enemies of reason

have a certain blind look.

- He has that look, don't you think?

- What can I do?

I have given it some thought.

You cannot fight, one,

if you are in different places.

Physical impossibility.

Two...

if you're of different rank,

it's a breach of discipline.

And three,

if the state is at war...

duels of nations

take absolute precedence.

Therefore, keep away from him.

Keep ahead of him.

Put your trust in Bonaparte.

Thank you.

Just before history rolls over it,

what was the cause of the duel?

Are you asking

on behalf of the town?

Call it a...

light cavalry skirmish.

All in all...

I'm far from certain myself.

After six months

of hard campaigning...

there followed an interval of peace.

- Hold him, Gabriel.

- Are you holding onto the table?

- Richard, is he on the table?

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