The Musketeer
You went on the defensive too soon.
Ah, you gave too much ground.
A Musketeer would never do that.
A Musketeer doesn't fight his duels
after a morning of farm chores.
No, but they drink
and carouse all night.
So it's much the same thing.
Time to eat.
Don't fill his head with that.
D'Artagnan wishes to serve his king
as the bravest of Musketeers.
Well, I might have a drink
now and then.
Aren't we waiting
for Planchet?
Oh, I would,
- but my hunger wont
- Riders coming.
Please join. There is not a lot,
but youre welcome to share it.
You don't recognize me,
Gaston?
Not since you no longer
wear the colors of the King.
Are you the son?
You know your father was
quite a swordsman at one time.
- The best in Europe.
- Second best.
- He's second to no one.
- He is no one but a cripple.
Leave now.
Not without the taxes.
Ive paid my taxes to the King.
Oh, that does the Church
no good at all.
Taxes for the King,
taxes for the Church,
taxes for the sheriff,
taxes for the mayor.
anything left to eat.
Does it look like
I've struck gold here?
Such insolence...
from a thief.
- My father is not a thief.
- D'Artagnan! Please.
Listen to your mother,
and listen to me.
A man who does not pay his taxes
is no more than a thief.
- My father was a Musketeer.
- I know.
Planchet.
Not here.
I've heard otherwise.
You've heard wrong.
Not only a thief,
but also a liar.
I'm so sorry,
little D'Artagnan.
Planchet will take
care of you.
I do not hope to replace
your parents. No one can.
However,
I would like to help you
in becoming a man.
It's a rather
tricky journey.
I will be your guide.
I want you to teach me
to become a Musketeer,
like you taught my father.
I will find that man
and kill him.
Listen to me, D'Artagnan.
Listen to me carefully.
I didn't teach your father
how to kill. I taught him how to live.
I don't understand.
You have always
had your father in you.
I can see it in your eyes.
You will become a Musketeer.
A great one.
Understand...
it will not happen quickly,
and it will only happen if you listen.
If you teach me,
I will listen.
I'd be honored.
Whoa. Whoa.
DArtagnan, this place invites
one for bad food and worse company.
Oh, well, I just want
breakfast, not a new home.
You have money?
Yes.
- Who invited you?
- The space is free.
Move.
You're attracting flies.
Forgive my associate.
Strangers make him anxious.
What with the public running wild,
thieves and cutthroats around every bend--
I'll keep my eyes open.
Get out!
Go on, go away!
- Where are you going?
- Paris.
- Oh, what business takes you there?
- Mine.
Stop!
Put down your sword
or he's dead.
This man is a moment from his
death if you don't put down your sword!
What do I care about
some old man?
I think you do care.
- Why did you come here?
- I wanted to watch.
- I will kill him!
- You'll be dead before you do.
Well, I'd love to see how
all of this turns out,
however I have
a long ride ahead of me.
You have an interesting fighting style.
Where did you acquire it?
Here and there.
Perhaps there.
Certainly not here.
When you bury Darcy, I wouldn't
be too concerned about a cross.
He was not a man
consumed by religion.
If you survive, don't try
these heroics in Paris.
You will not last the day.
When you pass the entrance,
would you send
six of my men back?
- Six men?
- Well, that should be
enough, dont you think?
He doesn't have men outside!
He's-- He's bluffing.
Let him go now.
He doesn't mean
much to me.
However, he is a friend
of the men outside.
They will not be merciful.
I see you have been
making friends again.
Why didnt you do anything?
He was no match for you.
This was your test,
not mine.
Hyah!
Whoa!
Why are we stopping?
We are emissaries
from the King of Spain.
I have a document from
King Louis guaranteeing me
safe passage in France.
Whoa!
You said there were
always 50 or 60 men here
waiting to be assigned...
and that one
could mark this villa...
by the men outside
begging to call themselves
Musketeers.
by the men outside
begging to call themselves
Musketeers.
Things change.
Oh, thank you.
Hello?
Monsieur Revile?
- Your guards too low.
- Nothing wrong with my guard.
I'm looking for
Monsieur Revile.
He is not receiving visitors.
He will receive me.
Please forgive Aramis.
He's not at the peak
of civility this morning.
I'm civil as this stray deserves.
You have the courage
of wine for breakfast.
May we give Revile
a message?
You may give him this.
Just the name will do.
My father was a Musketeer.
Revile gave him this sword.
I'm Porthos.
This is Aramis.
- We, too, are Musketeers.
- You two? Musketeers?
- So much for civility.
- I'm sorry. It's just that I had no idea--
- Well, now is not the best time
to be a Musketeer.
- Or the child of a Musketeer.
On the 12 of 'April,
just outside of Lyon,
the Spanish envoy and his escorts
were slaughtered.
The sword and tunic
of a Musketeer were found.
But who would believe
the Musketeers capable?
Cardinal Richelieu.
Or so he professes to.
The Musketeers
have been suspended.
Replaced by Richelieu's
own private guards.
And Revile, as our leader, has been, uh...
detained until there's a full inquiry.
Detained where?
In the Cardinal's jail.
We must get him
out of jail.
Well, that seems unlikely.
What of the King?
These are his Musketeers.
Surely he will want us
to free Revile.
- He will not meddle where
the Cardinal is--
- You have a loose tongue.
great secrets.
Perhaps one more secret.
The name of a place to stay.
Certainly.
Your guard's
too low.
Bless me, Father,
for I have sinned.
It's been a lifetime
since my last confession.
I have murdered,
plundered, raped.
Oh, and I have been...
uncharitable.
Don't make a mockery
of the Church.
- You sent for me.
- You've gone too far.
I wish to scare the Spaniards.
Embarrass the King.
I want political tension,
not war.
Oh, the Spaniards were scared.
You could see it in their faces
just before they died.
And I'm certain King Louis
feels embarrassed.
Buckingham must be dealt with.
He is coming despite
what happened to the Spanish.
the English, it will strengthen
his position with the people.
So, let me see,
how can I phrase this?
Without killing anyone,
make the King a fool
in Buckingham's eyes.
What if I absolutely
must kill someone?
Well, if you must, you must.
Whoa.
Three pistoles a week,
a week in advance and-- Oh.
It says you have no money
and that you are a man of honor...
and blah, blah, blah, blah.
My niece, Francesca.
She's lovely.
Not if you must live with her.
She thinks she's something
special because her mother
hemmed dresses for the Queen.
She sometimes
forgets her place.
Sorry, Francesca. Gout.
Puts me in a foul humor.
Show monsieur a room.
I have some
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"The Musketeer" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_musketeer_20911>.
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