The Return of the Musketeers Page #4
- PG
- Year:
- 1989
- 102 min
- 188 Views
God save the king!
To hell with Mazarin!
To hell with Mazarin! God save the king!
What appalling handwriting.
Oh.
Ah! Careful, man.
Here, let me.
Why do the working class delight in
destroying the property of their betters?
Via, via, go away, please.
[ mumbling ]
is over, eh?
And roundheads
have captured their king.
But Cromwell doesn't say
what they will do with him.
Depose him and then --
king Charles' death
is inevitable.
And France must not interfere.
General Cromwell insists.
Roundhead diplomacy. Does he think
he can cut off a crowned head,
even an English one, and royal France
What will France do?
Stand by, protest it.
My ministry wouldn't last
a day if I declared war.
You may give monsieur Cromwell my word,
provided no one knows I've given it.
He's the winner,
so I must be friends with him.
But how long will you waste your talent
serving that Anglo-Saxon savage?
civilized service? Infinitely.
I can always use reliable agents and
I pay better than monsieur Cromwell.
Cardinal.
Sire? This rubble at the gate.
I will not --
who is this lady?
Sire, may I present you
mademoiselle Dewinter?
An English...
Diplomatist.
English diplomacy
is beautiful.
- Your majesty.
- Rise, ma'amselle.
You look disturbed.
Pardon, sir, I had understood
that your majesty was,
forgive me,
much younger.
Who told you that?
He did, I suppose.
- Well, I shall be 11 next year.
- Only 11? Oh, your majesty's teasing me.
You see, cardinal?
I am not a child anymore.
You may go. I wish
to speak to ma'amselle.
Forgive him, ma'amselle.
He's a tiresome fellow.
A useful accountant,
but he is rather old.
[ sighing ]
Ooh, ooh!
Ahh! Aah!
Ooh! Ooh!
They're not real, you know.
What did you say to Mazarin?
That the duke of Beaufort escaped, thanks
to a dozen of his men who held us off.
Ooh-ooh-ooh!
So, he kicked us out.
No barony for Porthos,
no promotion for me.
You see before you two unemployed
gentlemen. I cannot say I'm sorry.
You two were made for better
stuff than serving Mazarin.
On my way here I saw a woman
disguised as a priest...
Kill a headsman
with his own axe.
- She said he was her mother's murderer.
He and four other men
20 years ago.
Good god.
I didn't believe her at first.
But then she explained and...
We talked
and we... Talked.
What'd she look like?
What did she say?
Her name was Justine Dewinter.
Her mother was English.
And her looks --
she's beautiful.
Justine Dewinter.
Did she say who the
other four men were?
She said their headsman
had led her to them, but --
oh, my god.
You three?
And Aramis.
But it wasn't murder, Raoul.
I know what you think of musketeers,
but we're not assassins.
Milady Dewinter was evil.
She deserved to die.
One of us loved her,
you see.
She haunts us still...
Through her daughter,
Rochefort's bastard.
Oh, I have heard
of the child over the years.
How she grew into an
assassin like her mother.
A courier,
a spy for Oliver Cromwell.
Once she knows our names,
her mother's executioners,
what will she do?
One thing we must do,
we must...
Prepare ourselves.
[ queen ]
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey, hey, hey, hey.
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
[ sighing ]
Grave news, madame,
it seems likely...
That the English will cut off
their king's head.
Don't be silly.
They can't.
Isn't he my brother-in-law?
Your son's uncle, in fact.
Cromwell intends to put him
on trial for treason.
That's impossible. Kings can't
commit treason, be put on trial.
I mean, where would it end?
It's unthinkable.
His people will never permit it.
The people of England,
madame, will permit anything,
except cruelty to horses
or a rise in the price of beer.
King Charles must be saved.
He's one of us. I'm sorry, my dear.
Only a miracle can pluck Charles
Stuart's head from beneath the axe.
Chevreuse!
Chevreuse!
[ bleating ]
[ bleating ]
Look at me.
Look at my stomach.
Now that's
a king's stomach.
I think.
Oh!
A king is always head and
shoulders above his subjects.
Where are you going?
I'll teach you to meddle with a king.
You heard her.
Quick, quick, quick.
Go, go, go, please.
Congratulations, I've never seen
his majesty so captivated.
Little monsters are just
as susceptible as big ones.
But your eminence is troubled?
My eminence is enraged.
You will tell general Cromwell
that the queen, dio mio, women,
proposes to send
a party of ruffians,
Uh-huh. French ruffians, if you
please, to rescue king Charles.
It is none of my doing.
Make that clear.
Who are they?
A pair of blunderers.
D'artagnan and Porthos.
She's sending for them today.
And a retired bully named Athos.
D'artagnan, Porthos, Athos.
I'll inform the general.
And remind him I am not to blame.
He will oblige me
by disposing of these rascals.
Have no fear.
Oliver Cromwell is a very thorough man.
[ groaning ]
[ groan ]
Both ends again.
Here, there's teeth marks in it.
Oh, my flaming knee.
Oh, my wrist.
Think that's bad,
you should've humped her mother.
You? What do you want?
Mazarin's bloodhounds
are at my heels.
I've, I've been in hiding and then
I heard you were here in Paris!
Justine, you must help me.
Why should I?
My god, girl, I'm your father.
Ah, you remembered.
Your memory wasn't so keen when
you abandoned me in England.
Your inconvenient bastard. How
often have I seen you since?
I've been rotting these
five years in the bastille.
And you can rot in it forever.
Get out.
Justine!
Justine, you can't turn me away.
I have to get out of France.
You can take me on
your passport... As a servant.
Please, Justine,
have you no pity at all?
As much as you had for me or for my mother,
whose murderers you left unpunished.
What could I do?
I was bleeding my life out...
In the church at Armentieres
when they took her.
That was 20 years ago.
Have you even tried to look for them?
For the comte De la Fer?
What do you know of him?
Only his name,
but not the other three.
Who were they?
Believe me, child,
they are fatal men.
Their names, dear father,
are your passport to England.
Or shall I call the
cardinal's bloodhounds?
Aramis, Porthos.
- D'artagnan.
- And Athos,
the comte de la fer.
[ queen ] Once I gave you a diamond
ring, monsieur D'Artagnan,
and you and these brave
gentlemen saved my honour.
Perhaps my life. Now
you go to save the life...
Of my brother-monarch and
I have no ring to give you.
Nothing indeed, except my prayers.
God bless you all.
So young, so gallant.
Godspeed you gentlemen. You will always
have the love and gratitude of your queen.
And we know what that's worth.
You can stop grovelling, boy.
She's gone.
Royalty is superb.
We are to get our throats cut rescuing
a foreign king and pay our own expenses.
Why do we do it?
Because she's a queen.
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"The Return of the Musketeers" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_return_of_the_musketeers_21196>.
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