The Man in the Iron Mask Page #2
- PG-13
- Year:
- 1998
- 132 min
- 984 Views
ARAMIS:
(trying to ignore him)
There are more important things than
tits.
PORTHOS:
Really? If you can name me one
thing, one single thing, that is
more sublime than the feel of a
plump pink nipple between my lips,
I will buy you a new cathedral.
Aramis is still trying to pray, but rises to the bait.
ARAMIS:
Forgiveness.
PORTHOS:
Forgiveness?
As if in reply, Porthos lets rip an enormous rolling fart.
PORTHOS:
(beat)
Forgive me.
Aramis' fingers clamp down on the rosary beads, as he tries
to keep praying.
PORTHOS:
Am I forgiven?
Aramis abruptly backhands his huge friend. Porthos reels
backwards, landing in a chair.
PORTHOS:
I observe your forgiveness isn't
sweeter than a plump nipple.
ARAMIS:
Can't you see I'm praying,
goddammit?!
Porthos raises a foot and kicks the bishop in the balls.
Aramis staggers back and grabs a chair to throw it; Porthos
picks up the whole table -- just as d'Artagnan enters.
PORTHOS AND ARAMIS
D'Artagnan.
Porthos tosses the table aside and bear hugs d'Artagnan.
PORTHOS:
How are you, you skinny little pup!
Aramis sets the chair down in embarrassment.
ARAMIS:
A simple theological discussion.
D'ARTAGNAN
Aramis -- the King wishes to see
you.
ARAMIS:
Still you serve him loyally --
though people hurl rotten eggs at
his royal emblem.
Aramis lifts d'Artagnan's cloak as evidence: near its hem,
sure enough, is the remnant of a broken egg.
D'ARTAGNAN
I see your mind is sharp as ever.
The King said, "Right away." Cut
deep and hard, my friends.
PORTHOS:
Deep and hard, D'Artagnan.
D'Artagnan clasps Porthos' hand, then that of Aramis, and
leaves, as Porthos shakes his head.
PORTHOS:
We were all Musketeers once, eh? Oh,
I forgot. For the poor, the ones
you were praying for.
He hands a purse to Aramis. Surprised, even touched, Aramis
reaches for it. Just as he takes the money, Porthos throws a
haymaker; but Aramis sees the sucker punch coming and ducks.
Suddenly the two old warriors are circling again.
PORTHOS:
ATHOS stands at the dressing table in a modest room; dressed
in a dark plain coat, he too is a former Musketeer -- gray
haired and handsome, intensely intelligent, with a hard crust
of manners masking seas of emotion. He opens a small wooden
box and digs through medals of heroism; he finds what he's
looking for just as his son RAOUL enters. RAOUL is in his
mid-twenties; he wears the uniform of a soldier in the French
Army. He is nervous, pacing, looking at every angle in the
mirror.
RAOUL:
Do I look all right?
ATHOS:
None of the ladies will be able to
take their eyes off you.
RAOUL:
I care only about Michelle. Should
I ask her when we first arrive?
Or... or when we're leaving? I
could ask her in the carriage -- but
it is more romantic at the palace.
I get so confused...
ATHOS:
Perhaps this will help.
He hands Raoul the simple gold ring he took from the box.
RAOUL:
Mother's ring. I can't take this.
ATHOS:
She died giving you to me. And I
want to die knowing it is one the
finger of the women my son loves.
They embrace. Athos' eyes mist, but he smiles.
ATHOS:
Now go, and bring back your fiance.
ESTABLISHING - THE ROYAL PALACE - DAY
The Palace glows golden in the Parisian sunshine. Carriages
deposit guests for the lavish party in the royal gardens.
EXT. THE ROYAL PALACE - GARDENS - DAY
Attractive young adults strut about in the extravagant attire
of Louis XIV's France, the men like peacocks, the ladies in
gowns that seem to squeeze their entire bodies up into their
bosoms. They laugh and smile and strike courtly poses
pretending to talk with each other -- but all eyes are on the
doorway, through which the king is about to come...
JUST BEYOND THAT PALACE DOORWAY
KING LOUIS the Fourteenth is having his wardrobe adjusted by
a flock of tailors. He is twenty-two, and would be quite
handsome, except for the total self-absorption. He's
checking himself in a full length golden mirror as two of his
advisors, PIERRE and CLAUDE, try to speak with him.
PIERRE:
Your Majesty, I know it is a... a
festive time, but before --
KING LOUIS:
The blue sash. No, the burgundy!
PIERRE:
... before the party begins --
KING LOUIS:
The party has already begun -- so
why are you delaying me?
PIERRE:
We do not wish to delay you,
Majesty, but... as your advisors, we
feel it is our -- our --
CLAUDE:
... our duty.
PIERRE:
Yes! It is our duty to let you
know... there are riots in Paris.
LOUIS:
Riots? My people live in the
world's most beautiful city, their
king has the grandest palaces on
earth. Why should they feel
anything but pride and contentment?
PIERRE:
Well yes, of course, Majesty, and
I'm sure they are content... except
that... well, they are starving.
LOUIS:
Sometimes the poor do grow hungry.
But why would they riot about it?
As he says this, a replica of the Matterhorn made of fruits
and meringues is carried past the window by a team of chefs.
PIERRE:
Majesty... We have more than enough
food set aside for your birthday
celebration next week. If we
distributed some of that, we would
have time to gather more before --
LOUIS:
Aramis! I have been expecting you!
(to the tailors)
We are satisfied, that will do.
The tailors and advisors withdraw as Aramis -- still in his
simple priest's robe -- strides forward and bows to the kind.
ARAMIS:
Your birthday celebration, your
Majesty?
LOUIS:
Next week. This is a mere garden
party -- and I wish to join it, so I
will be brief. I am experiencing
resistance from the Jesuits.
ARAMIS:
Well... perhaps you should speak
with them, your Majesty.
LOUIS:
I have demanded it -- and common
priests present themselves! Can you
imagine the arrogance? Common
Jesuit priests try to act as my
equals, and they refuse to reveal
the names of anyone else in their
order! No one can keep secrets like
the Jesuits can, and the identity of
their leader is the darkest secret
they hold. Even the Pope himself
does not know who leads the Jesuit
Order in France! He suspects the
Governor General of Jesuits, whoever
he is, is angling to become Pope
himself.
ARAMIS:
How can I serve you in this?
LOUIS:
Perhaps you can find out who this
secret leader of the Jesuits is.
You are now a priest, but you were
once a Musketeer, serving the throne
of France, a throne ordained of God.
Can you accept this mission, and
keep it private?
ARAMIS:
If I find out the identity of this
Jesuit rebel. I will kill both him
and the man who told me.
LOUIS:
Once a Musketeer, always a
Musketeer, eh?
Aramis bows and Louis turns back to his mirror. There are
mirrors everywhere in his palace, and he loves his
reflection, adorned as he is all in golden cloth, like fabric
from the sun. Aramis leaves and the advisors return.
LOUIS:
Ah yes, the riots. We have food
stocks on the wharves right now, no?
PIERRE:
That food has spoiled. That is why
it was not shipped to the army.
LOUIS:
Exactly why it should be given away.
PIERRE:
What... an excellent idea, your
Majesty!
EXT. PALACE GARDENS - DAY
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