The Man in the Iron Mask Page #2

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:

I wonder how Athos is doing.

INT. A SMALL HOUSE - DAY

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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