me, my dear friend,
I shouldn't drink much wine.
When I do, I always
tell such frightening tales.
Let's go downstairs,
Our friends are waiting.
In the Count's park
There's a black pond,
Where lilies blossom,
Where lilies blossom,
Blossom...
Tell us something funny,
Porthos!
About Mme Coquenard!
What's so funny about her?
I can't wait till
M. Coquenard passes away.
Come, Porthos!
In that case, let's
sing something happy!
In our lifetime
Let's enjoy
The ladies and wine,
And good lock with our swords.
With feathers swinging
On our hats,
Let's tell our Fate:
Merci beaucoup.
The old saddle
Is squeaking again,
And my old wounds
Feel the wind.
Where the devil are you
Heading for again?
Can't you afford
Some peace for a while?
In our lifetime
Let's enjoy...
You have an excellent memory,
Lady Winter.
You are most kind,
your Eminence.
But what if despite
all reasoning,
the Duke decides
to persist
in threatening
France?
That's unlikely.
It is a possibility.
If Buckingham
persists,
I will count on
an event,
that would change
the face of the state.
If you so kindly
cite from history
an example of
such an event,
I may possibly
share your view.
Here's an example.
Didn't an event
occur in 1610,
that prevented Henry IV
from conquering Austria?
Monseigneur, I presume,
is referring
to the knife-stab
in Copper-smith street?
Exactly so.
If there was a woman,
beautiful and clever,
who wanted to avenge
herself upon the Duke,
no one would be surprised.
The Duke has succeeded
in many amours by his promises,
he must have sown seeds of
hatred in many hearts.
Or such a woman must
find a man,
who would be willing
to avenge for her.
That's also possible.
This way she could help
save France.
Now that I have received
all the instructions
concerning your enemies,
will you permit me to say
a few words about mine?
You have enemies, then?
I'm talking of a man
your Eminence knows well.
The evil genius of both of us.
It is he, who in a duel
with your Eminence's guards,
decided the victory in favor
of the King's Musketeers.
It is he, who gave three
wounds to your emissary,
who caused the affair of
the diamond studs to fail.
He, who, knowing I killed
Constance Bonacieux,
swore to kill me.
I mean that wretch
d'Artagnan.
He is a bold fellow!
A dishonest man,
monseigneur.
What do you want?
An order which would ratify
in advance all
that I'd think proper to do
for the good of France.
First, we need to find
a woman,
who'd want to avenge
herself upon the Duke.
She is found!
And a man who'd serve
as an instrument
of God's justice?
He will be found.
Then it will be time
to the claim the order
you now required.
Your Eminence is right.
I must inform the Duke
of your offer,
warn him of the consequences
of his refusal,
and if he persists,
do nothing, but
pray that God
works a miracle
for the salvation
of France.
Damn it!
If I could do away with
my enemies as easily
as you do away with yours!
Monseigneur, a fair exchange.
Existence for existence,
a man for a man.
Give me one,
I will give you the other.
I don't know what you mean,
and I don't want to know.
But I wish
to please you.
Give me a paper, a pen,
and some ink.
Here they are, monseigneur.
Drinking den, or chapel,
church, or tavern,
We follow orders,
Apply all means.
He, who serves
the Cardinal,
Has a place
reserved in heaven.
- When am I to leave for London?
- At once.
A ship with an English crew,
whose captain is loyal to me,
will take you
from the hunting lodge
near fort La Point.
Where is Athos?
Who will ensure
order, if not us?
We do it on the sly,
and very smoothly,
Either arrest
or pierce the offender!
His Eminence
Promised us heaven
in the afterlife.
"It is by my order,
and for the good of France,
"that the bearer of this
"did what he has done.
"August 5, 1628. Richelieu."
Who are you?
What do you want?
Do you recognize me,