Waterloo

- There is no hope, Sire.

- We are defeated, Sire.

For twenty years, we followed you.

You marched with glory through Europe.

We cannot save Paris.

The Austrians are in Versailles.

The Cossacks are watering

their horses in the Seine.

They can hear

the Prussian cannon in Montmartre.

There are four nations,

four armies, four fronts against us.

Abdicate.

You will be allowed to retire to the

island of Elba with a personal guard.

- It is an honourable exile, Sire.

- All you can do is abdicate.

You must sign, Sire.

Why? So you all can

keep the titles I gave you?

What were you before me?

Nothing. I made you.

You must abdicate, Sire.

Listen to me, Ney.

If there's anything I despise,

it's ingratitude.

What can I do? What?

I sent to the Emperor of Russia

for peace. He refused me.

What can we do?

What can we do? What can we do?

We can fight!

I fortify Paris. I disengage from

Austria and retreat to Italy.

We must consolidate and mobilise.

Train the recruits on the march.

There are no men to mobilise.

The army does not want Paris

to suffer like Moscow did.

Wellington.

Wellington?

Why is it always Wellington?

Wellington. Are you afraid of him

because he beat you in Spain?

France will not follow you.

France will follow me to the stars,

if I give her another victory.

You have no choice.

You must give up the throne.

Oh, Ney. The throne?

Do you know what the throne is?

It's an overdecorated

piece of furniture.

It's what's behind

the throne that counts.

My brains, my ambitions, my desires,

my hope, my imagination.

And above all my will.

I can't believe my ears.

You stand there waving a piece of paper

crying:
"Abdicate, abdicate!"

I will not! I will not!

All his men?

- When?

- This morning.

There is nothing left to do.

Sign.

Elba. Why Elba?

Marshal Marmot has surrendered to

the Austrians. It was his last hope.

Soldiers -

- Of my Old Guard -

- After twenty years

I have come to say -

- Goodbye.

France has fallen.

So remember me.

Though I love you all,

I cannot embrace you all.

With this kiss, remember me.

Goodbye, my soldiers.

Goodbye, my sons.

And goodbye, my children.

Your Majesty,

the monster has escaped from Elba.

We can thank God he is

mad enough to land in France.

Let us not dramatise yet.

Napoleon and his thousand men

are not really dangerous... yet.

Marshal Soult, you will keep

command of our troops here in Paris.

Marshal Ney...

You will be the first

to confront the werewolf.

- I know you love this man.

- I did. Once.

But I will bring him back

to Paris in an iron cage.

How they exaggerate all this.

The soldiers.

"In an iron cage."

Nobody asked for that.

- There's no way around.

- The way is forward.

Present!

Soldiers of the Fifth...

Do you recognise me?

If you want to kill your Emperor -

- Here I am.

Fire!

Long live the Emperor!

Follow me to Grenoble.

It was the cry of injured honour

that brought me back to France.

From Elba, I saw the rights of France

misprized and thrown aside.

My victory is certain. My eagles

will fly from steeple to steeple.

Straight?

Come then. We will

show them your red head.

I have come back.

I have come back

to make France happy.

- Bourbons to the compost!

- Hang the traitors!

I am France and France is me!

Napoleon has come back to us!

I will never forget your face, Ney,

when you forced me to abdicate.

- I did it for France.

- I know what is good for France.

I understand you made a promise to

the King. Something about a cage?

What was it exactly?

I said I would bring you

back to Paris in an iron cage.

That is what I heard.

The fat king must be

carried from the throne!

He has corrupted

the honour of Frenchmen!

Perhaps the people will

let me go -

- As they let him come.

He is back! The Emperor is back!

Now France will live again!

Long live the Emperor!

- He will lead us to glory again!

- Our Emperor is back!

Home! Bring the hero home!

Goulaincourt, Molien, Mol, Fouch.

We have a small problem to solve.

When France wakes up tomorrow,

it must have a government.

Drouot. Let me tell you something.

Life's most precious quality

is loyalty.

And you Drouot, are a rare man,

untainted and true. Will you join me?

- With all my heart, Sire.

- Thank you, Drouot.

Soult.

- I see you got my invitation.

- Yes, Sire.

I understand you are no longer

the King's Minister of War.

- Obviously not, Sire.

- Obviously not, Soult.

Silence! You are to be

my Chief of Staff. Accept?

- I accept, Sire.

- Good. All's well that ends well.

Madame...

Your son Ferdinand was killed when

he fell off a horse at a review.

No. Musset must go. We need more

conscripts and more men. Signature.

Your son was very brave

and persistent in his duties.

I am sorry, Madame, that fate

hasn't been more discriminating.

To my dear Prince Alexis.

I did not usurp the crown.

I found it in the gutter.

And I picked it up -

- With my sword.

And it was the people, Alexis -

- The people -

- Who put it on my head.

He who saves a nation

violates no law.

To my beloved wife.

I beg you as my wife and as

daughter of Austria, my enemy. -

- Please return to me

my most precious possession:

My son.

To the Prince Regent, England.

You have been my most generous

enemy for twenty years.

But now I want peace.

Therefore I protest

the presence of Wellington...

My son is my future.

And I would rather see him dead than

raised as a captive Austrian Prince.

They have declared me

an enemy of humanity.

Europe has declared war against me.

Not against France, but against me.

They dignify you, Sire,

by making you a nation.

Dignify? Dignify?

They deny me the decency of law.

They make it legal that any clown

can kill me. Any news of Wellington?

- Still in Brussels, Sire.

- Still with old Blucher?

They started the war.

Let them bleed.

Yes, let 'em bleed. I will discuss

peace over Wellington's dead body.

Marshal Soult, Sire.

It's urgent.

It's always urgent. Show him in.

The armies of Wellington

and Blucher have separated, Sire.

- Separated?

- Yes, Sire.

I wonder what history

will say of them?

We'll push Blucher aside

and march on to Wellington.

It will be a bloody day.

- Yes, Sire.

- Oh, yes, Soult.

Everything depends on one big battle,

just like at Marengo.

Thank you, Soult.

But at Marengo, I was young.

Uncle Gordon paraded his whole regiment

for my inspection this morning.

So I just rode up and down

and picked my fancy.

Mama, you chose such big ones.

You really are

the best of my generals.

We ladies just have to follow the drum.

This season, soldiers are the fashion.

Where would society be

without my boys?

- They are the salt of England.

- Scum.

Nothing but beggars and scoundrels.

Gin is the spirit of their patriotism.

Yet you expect them

to die for you?

Out of duty?

I doubt if even Bonaparte

could draw men to him by duty.

- Bony is not a gentleman.

- What an Englishman you are.

On a battlefield his hat is worth

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