All language subtitles for 1986_Manon of the Spring (Manon des Sources) FR BRD-Eng

Manon of the Spring

Jean de Florette Part Two

Here.

Next time, I won't pay this much.

The competition from Italy
is ruining me.

This barely pays for the fertilizer
for the flowers.

Next year, we'll grow chickpeas.

I'd miss our aperitifs together.

What is it? What are you barking at?

I'm not going to steal your goats.

Leave my bread alone!

Here, we'll share my lunch.

Hold on! Hold on!

Leave some for me!

Come on!

It's not me. It's him. Go ahead.

- Hello, chaps!
- Hello.

What did you do today, Bernard?

I went for a walk in the hills.

Look what I found.

Lignite. The hills are full of it.

Interesting.

I saw some goats, too.

That's the herd
of the hunchback's girl.

The little savage?

She's been hiding from us
since her father died.

I've seen her. She's a real beauty.

She must take after her mother.

For a hunchback,
he had a lovely daughter.

Who was this hunchback?

You never met him, Mr. Belloiseau.
You didn't live here then.

He was a city intellectual
who wanted to be a farmer.

- He was a loony!
- I'm not so sure of it.

I'm not saying he was an idiot,
but he just wasn't practical.

He thought he could breed rabbits
by doing multiplications on paper.

Only because there was no water
at Romarins.

But you found some.
How's the flower trade?

Christmas and Shrove Tuesday
are best,

and Easter is pretty good, too.

And the dead?
Aren't they good business?

Not bad at all.
They bring in a certain amount.

Come along!

Come along!

Let's go. Hurry up!

Thank you.

There's a letter for you.

My darling,

tonight, we're playing Aïda
in Bordeaux.

I've only got a small part,
but I'm so pleased.

If only you were with me,
I'd be truly happy.

Your loving mother.

You can't stay here forever.

You should be with your mother.

No hare or rabbit or birds.
Where have they got to?

Maybe I'm going deaf and blind.

Next time, I'll bring a hound along.

That hare won't get away!

Galinette!

Hey!

Do you know it's 5:00?

That's some nap.

I think I got sunstroke.

No, you're not red.
You must be short of sleep.

Come outside.

She can't hear,
but she guesses everything.

What I have to say to you
concerns only us two.

Galinette,

you're past 30, and you're
the last of the Soubeyrans.

I know all that...

Don't interrupt!

If I keep saying it, it's your fault.

I'll say it until you understand.

We Soubeyrans were
this region's most important family.

- On Grandpa's birthday...
- There were 30 of you.

All Soubeyrans, with cans of gold
hidden throughout the house.

Everyone respected us.

It didn't last, but don't blame me.
That's fate.

No! There's no such thing as fate!

Good-for-nothings always blame fate!
It was the fault of our elders.

Because of pride and greed,
they married among themselves.

Cousins married cousins.

An uncle married his niece.

It's bad for rabbits,
and it's bad for people.

And what was the result?

Two madwomen and three suicides.

Now there's only the two of us.

I don't count anymore,

so you're what's left
of the Soubeyrans.

You want me to marry.
Why didn't you take a wife?

I wasn't cut out for it.

Mind you, I almost did,

but it didn't work out. I joined
the army in Africa on a whim.

When I came back...

If there had been a child,
I'd gladly have married her,

but it didn't happen.

I'm like Anglade's cherry tree.
Lots of blossoms but never any fruit.

So I should marry instead of you.

You have to, Galinette.

- But why? Why?
- Why?

You're asking me why?

What about the Soubeyran fortune?

This isn't paper money
we're talking about. It's gold!

Cans full of gold coins.

Understand? And I own them!

That's from savings,
skimping and hard work.

You'd throw it all away?

Of course not. I love gold.

Then don't leave it without an owner.

You can't ask me
to start a family just like that.

I've asked you for 10 years.

But not as seriously as today.
Besides, I have my own ideas.

You have someone in mind?

Maybe.

Won't you tell me who?

Listen, I was in the sun all day.
I feel woozy.

I'll tell you, but be patient.

Fine. You're a good boy, Galinette.

Just one more thing.

In choosing a wife,
think of the children.

What do you mean?

Don't be enticed by a pretty face.

What we need is wide hips,
long legs, and nice, big tits.

It's like choosing a brood mare.

What if she's also pretty?

If it's on top of it all,
I wouldn't mind. On the contrary,

she'd be the Soubeyran beauty.
I'd enjoy looking at her.

Come on!

Come on!

Over here, Noé! Come!

Why is it always my turn?
The water is for everyone.

Cleaning the basin twice a year
won't kill you.

This red sand and the dead leaves.

- People need clean water.
- So do vegetables.

This is strange.
It looks like clay, but it's not.

No, it's bauxite powder,

a mixture of iron and aluminum.
Where does it come from?

From the spring, after big storms.

It settles here
and never reaches the village.

After a rainy night,

my spring water turns red,
and the stones look rusty.

It is rust. It's iron oxide.

- Then it can't hurt.
- No, it's actually good.

Where's your spring
in relation to this tank?

What do you mean?

Is it higher up or below?

That's hard to say.

The Romarins Valley is higher up.

Then the village water
comes from the same valley.

It's 10:00.

I promised they'd have water by noon!

That's two hours away.

But it takes an hour
to reach the village!

I enjoy your company,
but I must report to the Mayor.

Don't keep him waiting.

Hey, someone's throwing stones!

Wasn't that lightning?

You saw lightning? You must
have started drinking very early.

I swear I drank
only coffee this morning.

This is my knife.
I lost it a few days ago.

- Around here?
- No.

I haven't been here before.

That's strange.

The shepherdess returned it to you.

- Where is she?
- What shepherdess? You mean Manon?

Yes, the hunchback's Manon. Who else?

- Is she hiding here?
- No, she ran away.

Too bad. I wanted to thank her.

Some other time.

- Thank her with a little kiss.
- It's funny.

I don't know her,
but I dreamt about her.

In my dream, I even kissed her.

Did she let you?

In my dreams, women don't resist me.

- Aren't you eating?
- I'm not hungry.

You haven't looked well lately.

I've lost my appetite.
It's probably from that poison.

What poison?

The one I spray on my carnations
to kill the red spiders.

- I'll do it for you.
- No.

It has to be done at night.

Daylight is no good for it.
It weakens it.

It kills its effectiveness.

You work nights,
but you don't sleep days.

You're never home.
What do you do all day?

I hunt. I walk around on the hill.

I breathe in the fresh air.

I need to clear my lungs
of the poison.

That's true.

It's good for the carnations
but bad for you.

Still, you should eat and sleep.
Want a doctor?

No, I'll be all right.

See? I'm eating.

She's going to Aubagne
to sell my birds.

He's nuts.

Who is it?

- It's me.
- I know that!

- Who is the woman?
- What woman?

The one you visit in Aubagne.
I've watched you for days.

You keep collecting birds. What for?

Are you going mad or what?

Are you in love?

That's a good sickness. Who is she?

You won't tell me. Then she's either
a tramp or she's married.

Yes, yes, that's it! She's married!
She's married!

She's married!

- Open up!
- No, I won't!

- We can talk through the door.
- Why?

If I don't see you, I might tell you.

You're as dopey as your poor father.

Now, tell me.

I don't want to tell you anything.
Ask me questions.

Tell me who she is.

I won't tell you that.

Is it a city girl?

- Quite the opposite.
- Even better.

Do I know her?

Not really.

What does that mean?

You're too clever.
After four questions, you'll know.

- Then I do know her.
- See?

You know I don't want to tell you,
but you insist on interrogating me!

- Well, I won't answer!
- Why not?

Because!

It's my secret.

It's my first love secret,
and I'm keeping it.

Keep it. I'm leaving. Goodbye.

No! Stay! I want to talk about her.

I don't even know who she is.

But I do,
so I like talking about her.

Papet, did you leave?

No, I'm rolling a cigarette.

So you want to marry her?

Yes, but she won't want me.

- Why?
- She's pretty, and I'm ugly.

Does she have money?

Not much.

Is she healthy?

Yes, she's strong as a horse
and has good little muscles.

She would do a better job
on my carnations than me.

- And she's educated, too.
- How do you know?

She's always reading books.
Sometimes for a whole hour.

That's no good.

A poor girl who reads books.
I don't like it.

Besides, a beautiful wife
could mean trouble.

- Is she honest?
- She's the Holy Virgin of the hills.

If she'd marry me, I'd be happy
as a king, but she won't.

No poor girl
ever rejected a Soubeyran,

unless she's crazy.

If she said yes, would you consent?

I can't say until I know who she is.

You idiot! Open up and tell me!

I won't open the door!
I have to think!

- Papet?
- Yeah?

I may tell you,

but first,
swear by all the Soubeyrans

that when you hear her name,
you won't say a word.

- As you like.
- No! Swear it!

I swear it by all the Soubeyrans.

Good. Now I have to decide.

I won't open the door.
I'll take out the key.

Papet, put your ear
next to the keyhole.

It's Manon, the hunchback's daughter.

Come on!

Come on! Come on!

In 20 years' time,

she'll think you're too old for her,
and she might be unfaithful.

Not a girl like her.

She's like all the others,
but never mind.

By then, you'll have a house
full of sturdy little Soubeyrans.

Since she's pretty,
I give my consent.

- You've seen her?
- Yes, I have.

- What's your opinion?
- She's very pretty.

She seems mature for her age.
She looks at least 18.

- You know who she looks like?
- Nobody!

Oh, yes. She looks
like someone you never knew.

She looks exactly
like her grandmother.

You knew her grandmother?

Florette Camoins, the beauty.

Miss, I'm glad to meet you.

I wanted to thank you for my knife.

How did you know it was mine?

I saw you eating with it one day.

I'm the new teacher.

I'm collecting minerals
from the hills

to teach my pupils
the composition of their land.

I thought you were looking for gold.

It's Jurassic cretaceous
from the second Quaternary era.

You're well-informed
for a shepherdess.

I'm just quoting my dad.

I'd like you to keep this.

I've got one.

- That one's too fancy for me.
- Not at all.

A shepherdess
should have a shepherd's knife.

It has four blades,
an awl and a nail file.

And small scissors.

I know because I used them.

It's the first one I snared.
It's a baby. The big ones get away.

That hare is my present to you.

My class starts soon.
I have to leave.

I'll leave this on a rock.
Someone is bound to find it.

She doesn't want your knife.

Mister!

I'll keep it if you take the hare.

All right.

Thanks.

Papet?

What?

How does one talk to girls?

I don't know any words of love.

So you've made up your mind?

Yes, I must hurry.

She could meet a man in Aubagne
who might take her from me.

Where will you court her?

In the hills.

I'll pretend to look for mushrooms
or snails as if I didn't see her.

Not so fast.

If you're looking for mushrooms
or snails, it makes you seem poor.

If you're rich, show it.

Don't wear your old clothes.

Wear a new suit,
a real hunting outfit,

with leather leggings
and a matching hat.

And above all, wear suspenders.

Excuse me.

I'm looking for a hare I shot.
It must be wounded.

Aren't you Manon,
the daughter of Monsieur Jean?

I see you don't remember me.

That's because I've changed a lot.

I'm Ugolin,

your poor father's friend.

You've changed, too.

You're a real young lady.

I hardly recognize you.

You may wonder
why we never met before.

I'm too busy to hunt
because of my carnations.

Did you know I grow carnations?

I've been very successful.
I've earned lots of money.

The money's all in gold coins!

In two years, with my savings,
I'll be worth 50,000 francs.

Would you like
to move back to Romarins?

I'd stay in my Massacan house,

and you and Baptistine
can tend my carnations.

Manon, listen to me!

I know why you don't want to.
It's because you're proud,

but your pride is no problem.

Carnations need watering, picking,

and women know all about that.
I'll pay you!

I'll pay you very well!

Manon!

Manon!

Manon!

It isn't to have you work.
I was lying.

It's because I love you. I love you,
Manon. I love you with all my heart.

Manon!

I want to marry you. I'm all alone.
I have no one.

My grandparents are dead.

My father hanged himself
when I was little.

My mother died of the flu.
There's only Uncle Papet!

He's rich! He's old!
He's going to die!

He'll leave it all to me.

It'll be yours because I love you!

I love you.

My love for you is choking me,
making me ill.

I saw you bathing in the water holes.

I watched for hours.
You were so beautiful.

I was afraid I'd commit a crime!

- You spoke to her?
- I didn't see her.

She must have gone to Aubagne.

- Then do it tomorrow.
- Maybe.

First I've got to get used
to this outfit.

You look great,
like a hunter from Marseilles.

Look! Do you see what I see?

A beautiful thrush.

That trap must belong
to the hunchback's daughter.

- Are you sure?
- Yes.

That's her herd.

She must be around here.

I won't touch it.
Other people's traps are sacred,

especially hers.
That's her only livelihood.

She sells them at the Aubagne market.
She's proud.

We've already hurt her enough.

We didn't mean to.
We're not responsible.

We're all responsible.

We knew there was a spring
at Romarins, but we said nothing.

Why didn't you speak up?

Because of Amélie.

- You want a bite?
- I sure do.

When I used to hunt at Romarins,

I'd see that poor hunchback
look for water with his rod.

Once he was right above it,
but the rod didn't bend.

Then he dug in the wrong spot.

That night, I was upset,
so I told Amélie.

What a scene! She flew into a rage.

"It's none of our business!
Hunchbacks are bad luck!

"He's an outsider from Crespin!"
And so on.

You know how she is.

She made me swear to say nothing.

- So you didn't?
- No.

Ugolin and Papet are real bastards.

Yeah, in that whole business,
we were all bastards.

Come on!

Come along.

Papet! My spring stopped running!

- What'?
- No water'.!

- None at all?
- No. I dug down deep. Not a drop!

- The carnations are budding!
- Fifteen thousand of them.

- You still have the well.
- The well will be empty in two days!

Springs are capricious,
especially his. Give it three months.

Three months! Holy mother!

Stop it, you fool! Get up!

The water is probably back by now,

and if not,
with a few mules, we can hold out.

- Let's go take a look.
- It used to flow.

When the hunchback came,
it stopped. Then...

Something's wrong with our fountain.
It's just trickling.

- Come and see!
- That's not possible.

- Here, too! Papet, we're ruined!
- Calm down.

Well?

Could be a frog or a snake inside.

We're stuck, like Ugolin.

Impossible! It hasn't stopped
running in 50 years.

I'll go check out the tank.

Nothing.

- There.
- I'm on my way.

Don't worry.

Monsieur Jean, have mercy.
You're up in heaven,

so you can see that my feet are
so swollen that I can't wear shoes,

that my mule is half-dead.

If this continues, my carnations
will be ruined in eight days.

Come on,

in the name of the Father,
the Son and the Holy Ghost,

give us back your daughter's spring.
Amen.

Help us! Amen, damn it!

Hello? Yes, I'm the Mayor.

When will you get here?

Tomorrow? We'll all be dead!
He must come right away!

We have no bread. Our crops
are ruined. It's a disaster!

Then I'll expect him tomorrow
at the town hall. Thank you.

- The expert is coming tomorrow.
- What expert?

The one I keep asking for,
the rural-engineering expert.

The meeting will come to order.

This council meeting
concerns the water problem.

- Problem? It's a disaster!
- That's right. It's a disaster,

but thanks to my own efforts
and my telephone,

I was able to get us a rural expert,
and here is the rural expert.

Gentlemen,
I have studied your problem,

and here's the report
I'm submitting to my chief engineer.

The Perdrix Spring
which supplied your fountain

was the main source
for this whole region.

It originated from a fissure
between two layers of limestone.

The source is not diaclastic.
It is a vauclusian resurgence.

Let's not confuse the two.

Thus, the water bed between
two impervious strata leveled out,

and the water issued forth along
the upper stratum, under pressure.

This trapped pool
supplied your basin by rising up,

and the basin supplied your fountain
through a series of pipes.

Yes, it's serious!

At the request of your mayor
and the administration,

we researched the cause
of this terrible accident.

First, where did
your water originate?

- Luckily we have this document.
- Very interesting!

It's a study by the chief engineer

that spells out clearly
and to the point

some experiments made in this region
five years ago.

Unfortunately, your spring
does not appear on this valuable map.

There's no stream
within the orography

of the Huveaune River
or its tributaries.

Fine. Where does that leave us?

Since the water doesn't originate
locally, it comes from far away.

- I want to speak.
- Not now!

I'll make it short.
Just let him turn on the water!

He can explain later!

I don't fix fountains.
The first theory is the drought.

A small drop in the groundwater level
may have caused your problem.

The watercourse is determined

by seams of dolomite
in the limestone.

It can cross the seams
via a network of siphons.

You know what that is?

It's a rubber tube to draw wine!

Exactly. At the first rain,

the siphons are reactivated

as soon as the underground lake rises
to its normal level.

An underground lake?

Of course! To oppose progress
is a sure sign of ignorance.

If progress gets me my water back,
I'm for it,

and if my spring flows again,
here's my 100 francs for progress!

Here's 100 francs for progress!

Wait. Listen to the rest
of this nonsense.

Now, the second theory.

The underground stream dropped
into a network of caves.

Once they're filled,

the water returns to its old level
and the spring flows again.

How soon?

I can't tell you
how long it might take.

Maybe two days, maybe two years.

- Maybe 100 years.
- That can't be ruled out.

Third theory...

To hell with your theories!
What can you do for us right now?

The administration will provide

a daily truck
with 1,300 gallons of water

to cover your immediate daily needs.

How much water do I get
for my carnations?

If our water hasn't returned
in a month, what then?

We suggest
you farm some land elsewhere.

What can I say? Lots of villages
have plenty of water.

No, sir, our council
can't accept that!

Your council's power over natural
phenomena is next to zero.

- The third theory...
- To hell with their theories!

We've got some administration!

And I say to hell with you!

The water truck
will be here in two days.

Meanwhile, gentlemen, goodbye!

Quiet, or else
they'll send the police!

Where is he? Where is he?

Where's the president
of the water syndicate?

Who is the president
of the water syndicate?

It's not me. It's you!

I am because I'm the Mayor,
and that's because I have the phone!

And what is this?

- Your receipt.
- Right.

Right, 52 francs, plus the stamp.

You took my money.
Now where's my water?

Before you came, the expert
explained about the orography.

You have to understand orography.

I don't give a damn!

- I paid, and I want my water!
- Listen.

They're sending
a water truck every day.

Bring your mule, and you'll get
40 gallons like the rest of us.

First, I have no mule, only a donkey.

Second, 40 gallons
will do for a café, not for a field.

Third, I paid for spring water,
not truck water!

I'm sure they'll send spring water.

Not from my spring!
I paid, and I want my water!

Stop yelling!

It's exhausting us,
and it won't help!

Holy mother! My poor eggplants!

My 600 beefsteak tomato plants!

Everyone is affected.
It's a major disaster.

"Major"? I paid, and I want my water!

The spring stopped running.
Where should we get water?

Who cares?
Just make it run from my pipe.

And you, mind your own business!

You're a councilman,
but I didn't vote for you!

- I don't need your vote!
- Who do you think you're talking to?

A bunch of water thieves!

'-Stop!' Stop it!
- Stop!

- Stop!
'Stop it!

Good morning.

- Good morning.
- Today is my birthday.

After Mass,
you're invited for a drink.

We don't control what day we're born.

My brothers, I am truly glad

to see you all gathered
in our little church.

The whole parish is here,

including a group of intellectuals

who normally observe Holy Mass
on the terrace of a café.

I won't name it. It's our only café.

I won't name them, either.
You all know them.

This ought to fill them with shame,
were it not for their cynicism.

With clasped hands and moist eyes,

you're full of faith
and repentance today,

but God knows you're here
because your spring stopped running,

and your prayers are merely pleas
for your string beans,

orations for your tomatoes,
hallelujahs for your artichokes,

hosannas for your squash!

I must speak seriously
about the spring.

I keep asking myself
the same question.

Why is it that this water,
so plentiful until now,

has suddenly dried up
in our hour of need?

I once read a Greek tragedy

about the City of Thebes,

which was struck
by a calamitous plague

because of crimes
committed by its king.

So I ask myself,

"Is there a criminal among us?"

It's not impossible,

since the biggest crimes
often escape human justice,

but God knows of them all.

I'll now speak
to this unknown criminal,

if he exists.

To him I say,

"My brother, there's no sin
that cannot be forgiven,"

"no crime that cannot be atoned for"

"by sincere repentance."

Our Lord Jesus Christ
said this astounding phrase,

"There is more room in heaven
for one repentant sinner"

"than for 100 self-righteous men."

Whatever your offense,
try to make amends.

Repent, and you shall be saved,

and your spring will flow
better than before.

- Papet
- Yes.

He knows.
He looked at me three times.

What could he know?
He's only been here a year.

Maybe somebody
told him in confession.

Anglade might have.

He's such a bigot that he might
confess other people's sins.

- What worries me is the girl.
- Me, too.

She seemed unfriendly to you.

She seemed to be saying,
"You're the criminal."

No, she doesn't know
anything, either.

Then what worries you?

I think she doesn't want you.

CITY OF AUBAGNE

Happy birthday.

- To our teacher's good health!
- Thank you.

- Happy birthday!
- Here's to you!

What did you think of the sermon?

What do you expect?
It's just a lot of words.

I'm sure no act of God
dried up the spring.

He seemed to allude
to a crime he knew of.

Maybe he heard of it in confession
and couldn't reveal more.

What crime? If anyone here
committed a crime, we'd all know.

No, I felt he had someone in mind.

- Then who?
- Yes, who?

He kept looking at Ugolin.

Yes, especially
when he spoke of the plague.

- Are you saying I have the plague?
- Don't joke about such things.

- You smelled our Pernod!
- I came because of the water.

I have to speak to you.
It's very important.

- To me?
- Yes.

You can bring the water back.

I could? How?

By coming to the procession.
Will you?

Then our fountain
won't ever flow again.

You think she's a saint?

An orphan's prayer soars to heaven
like a lark.

Our Lord
will gladly listen to her song.

She's innocent.
If she prays for us, we're saved.

Manon, you must save
our carnations!

I won't help those
who stole my father's water!

I don't understand.

They understand.

They know why God is punishing them.

Tell us.
Do you know who the criminal is?

There are two.

There they are.

If we're to be treated
like criminals,

I'd rather go home.

Come, Galinette.

Your hurried departure
might make us think...

I don't care what you think!

My conscience is clear.

Let's go.

- Come on.
- No.

I want to hear
what she's accusing me of

because I can solve
the whole problem.

Tell me
how they stole your father's water.

But she's imagining things.

It's true her father's lack of water
may have ruined him.

He would have found water,
except for his accidental death.

The two women were in trouble,

so we bought the little farmland.

Partly because we liked it, true,

but also to help them out.

Later, we searched for the spring
and, by sheer luck, we found it.

That's what she calls
stealing his water.

"Help thy neighbor."
Some joke! Let's go!

It's not true. He's lying!

The truth is the spring
was always there.

The truth is you blocked it off.

- Why would they do that?
- To buy it cheap.

Without water, the farm is worthless.

My father's dead,
thanks to these assassins!

That's not true! That's slander!

I found that spring with my watch.

You were there with your mother.
You held a squash.

- Tell the truth!
- Within less than an hour?

The spring might well say to you
what God said to Pascal,

"You wouldn't look for me
unless you'd already found me."

To hell with Pascal!

I only met him once.
He was so rude, I slapped him!

You laugh, but it's true.
Here's what we have.

She denies what she saw
and believes what she didn't see.

Who saw us block up that spring?

Who saw us block up that spring?

I saw you.

I saw you both.

Liar! What did you see, idiot?

You could never even tell
left from right.

In the army, they put a mark

on his left hand
and two on his right.

He never understood,
so they sent him home.

I planned it that way.
It wasn't easy, but it worked.

The Major had his suspicions...

We're not interested in that
right now. Tell us what you saw.

He saw nothing. He was dreaming.

I never dream!
It was nine or 10 years ago.

- See? He's being vague.
- It was after Pique-Bouffigue died.

I was at Romarins, hunting partridge.

They were drinking from a puddle
near the empty farmhouse.

- I picked the lock, went upstairs...
- How nice!

Breaking into a dead man's house.

Pique-Bouffigue
built two small windows

under the gutter to shoot thrush.

First, I took a nap.

You see? He slept. He was dreaming.

That was no dream!

Suddenly, I heard digging sounds
and woke up.

I watched through the window.

This one was digging,
while the other watched.

I didn't dare move.

The water gushed out of the hole.

Then they blocked the spring
with cement!

Why didn't you tell her father?

It wasn't my business,

but now God is punishing them and us.
Now it is my business!

Suppose he's telling the truth,

and it's not true, but if it were,

I'm willing to give her the spring,
my carnations, the farm,

the money,
the Soubeyran fortune, my life.

You know it.
I told you so in the hills.

I love you more than anything.

Listen.

Listen to me, Manon.

I see you and talk to you constantly.

I can't eat. I can't sleep.

If you don't want me,
I'll die or go crazy.

Shut up, idiot. Let's go.

Just think about it.

What a terrible mixture!

All my remorse
for the harm I've caused you

and all the happiness
I'd like to bring you.

Don't you know how I'd slave for you?

- Oh, my love!
- Make him go away!

My love...

Don't be a fool. Get up.

Think, Manon. Just think.

I'll die over this love,
and nobody will care.

Galinette, come on home.

No! It's all your fault!

I lost everything because of you!

If I had known...

Galinette, my boy!

I'll stay.

Since you're all against him,
I'll defend him.

That won't be easy.

You all know
there never was a spring at Romarins,

just a puddle,

but I found the real spring!

Those of you who are natives like me,
admit that there was no spring.

Listen carefully.

If you knew of a spring
and didn't tell the hunchback,

then you're responsible
for his death.

- The old bastard.
- You knew?

Sure. We all knew.

We didn't dare denounce them
to defend an outsider.

He hated my grandmother.
They took it out on her son.

Who's your grandmother?

Florette. They never forgave her
for marrying a man from Crespin.

Florette was your grandmother?

The hunchback was Florette's son?

Sir! Sir!

Papet wants to see you and the Mayor.

- Papet wants to see you.
- Yes?

- You, too.
- Me?

He said to hurry.

- Where is he?
- At Romarins. He's waiting for you.

What could César want?

Put him on the table.

Right there.

Go to the village.

Tell the mute woman to bring
some candles from the church,

at least six big ones,

and the linen sheet
his grandmother wove.

Pamphile, prepare the coffin.

You'll find the oak boards
in the attic,

the ones I wanted for myself.

I know.
You're the one who ordered them.

Use them for him.

The rest of you, please,

say he fell from a tree.

Keep this a secret for three days,

or the priest
won't give him a proper burial.

Now you can leave.

- I'm staying with you.
- There's no need to.

She should have married him

and gotten her revenge
by driving him crazy.

Papet, I'm leaving
because I can't go on.

It's not the carnations.
It's because of my love.

I realize she'll never want me.

I suspected it
because her ribbon burned my flesh,

and when I told her in public
I wanted to marry her,

she spat at me in a fury.

What's more,
she fled towards the teacher.

When he talks to her,
she lowers her eyes.

When he stops,
she lingers until he continues.

And he takes her love for granted.

He's unaware of his happiness,
but I know my misery.

I can't stand it.
I'd like to kill him,

but it would hurt her,
and I'd never hurt her.

I leave her my farm
and all that's hidden,

you know where,
to the left of the fireplace.

Don't make any trouble.
It's not her fault or yours.

It's fate.

Arrange a Mass for me
because up there,

I'll have to explain
about the spring.

Farewell, my Papet.

I'm sorry to leave you,
but I can't stay.

You know?

I know.

What will you do?

I don't know.

I won't go back to that house.
Too many bad memories.

I'd keep seeing him hang
where my swing used to be

and smell his odor in the house.

Will you join the procession?

If you're sure
that the water won't come back,

you should go.

If your father
could bring back the spring,

what would he do?

He'd have liked to be their friend.

For his sake,
do what he would have done.

- You think this procession will help?
- You never know.

I wonder how I would feel
if the prayers worked.

I would feel terrible. I would feel
forced to go to confession.

That's what worries me.

I know several fools
who'd think like you,

and I'd surely lose the elections.

Miracles can be very convincing.

Something's happening.

Stop! Stop!

It's breathing. It's breathing!
The pipe is blowing!

A miracle!

Kneel!

On your knees!

Kneel down, everybody!

It's not a miracle.

It's just a coincidence.

I recognized your footsteps.

Your ear is as sharp as an eye.

Ears can't replace eyes, César.

Belly dancing is all very well,

but you made a mistake
when you were over there.

I did?

I said "mistake,"
but it was almost a crime.

I don't know what mistake you mean.

When I was wounded,
they almost promoted me.

That's a different matter.

I'm talking about a letter
you received.

What letter?

One that deserved an answer,

an answer that you never sent.

A letter from whom?

You don't want to tell me
because you think I don't know.

- I swear, Delphine...
- Don't swear, you sinner!

I'm sorry for reminding you
of something unpleasant.

What is unpleasant?

From here, I see the church
and a cross on top of the steeple.

I swear on that cross
that I received no letter,

except from my father and Anglade
and Castagne.

In that case, it's a tragedy.

Why?

Swear again
that you're not lying to me.

I swear it. Who wrote to me?

Florette.

Florette Camoins?

There was no other Florette.

Are you sure?

I myself gave the letter
to the postman.

I'd never have forgotten
a letter from her.

I still have two faded notes
she wrote to me

and one of her combs.

It's true.

When I came back,
she had left the village.

She was married
to the blacksmith in Crespin,

and she already had a child.

How could that letter
have gotten lost?

Over there, we moved
from place to place.

Sometimes, our food and even
our ammunition failed to reach us.

Some letters may have been lost, too.

But if I had received that letter,

I would still know it by heart.

If that's true, it's dreadful.

- You think she loved me?
- You old fool.

She never told me so.

Not even after
what happened between us one night

in Anglade's barn.

That's how she was.

In her letter,
she told you that she was pregnant.

- What'?
- Yes.

You had left three weeks before.

She told you if you wrote
to her father,

promising to marry her,

she would wait for you.

She could have shown your letter
to the whole village,

and nobody would have dreamed
of making fun of her.

Are you sure?

The poor girl couldn't sleep.

She tried to lose the baby
with devilish potions.

She jumped
from high rocks in the hills,

but nothing worked.

Then she started hating you.

She went to the dance at Aubagne,

where she found
the blacksmith from Crespin,

so she left the village,

and no one ever knew
when the child was born.

Was it born alive?

Alive, yes, but it was a hunchback.

I hear Clairette coming back.

Come on over, my girl.
It's getting chilly.

I'd rather sit by the fireplace.

Farewell, César.

Don't worry. I never told anyone.

I'm going to pray for you.

- What's wrong, Papet? Are you ill?
- No, no.

Don't stand here. Find some refuge.

- Should I call a doctor?
- No.

- I could call the Ombrées.
- No, thanks.

I know what's wrong with me.

Lean on me. I'll take you home.

My friend,
I don't believe you're about to die.

But I believe I am.

I know I'll die tonight.

What makes you think so?

I'll die
because I no longer want to live.

Hurry and hear my confession.

You'll see. I have lots to confess.

You know
that suicide is a mortal sin.

I won't need to kill myself.
I'll simply pass away.

I need to get out.

I'd like to get out. I'm sorry.
I need to get out.

Dear God, please don't let her baby
be a hunchback.

Dear little Manon,

the notary will tell you
that I'm leaving you my whole estate.

It may surprise you,
but it's the truth.

The lawyer will give you
all the documents

because your father was my son.

He was the Soubeyran
I'd hoped for all my life,

whom I tormented to death
because I didn't know who he was.

If I had told him about the spring,
he'd still be playing his harmonica,

and you'd all be living
in our family home.

No one knows it,

but I'm too ashamed to face anyone,
even the trees.

In the village,
there's a person who knows.

She will tell you everything.

It's Delphine, the old blind woman.

She'll explain
that it's all because of Africa.

I don't deserve to kiss you,
and I never dared speak to you,

but maybe now you can forgive me

and even say a little prayer
for poor Ugolin and me.

I'm so pathetic, I even pity myself.

Out of sheer spite,
I never went near him.

I never knew his voice or his face.

I never saw his eyes,

which might have been
like his mother's.

I only saw his hump
and the pain I caused him.

Now you understand why I want to die,

because next to my torments,

even hell would be a pleasure.

Besides, I'll see him up there.
I'm not afraid of him.

Now he knows he's a Soubeyran.

He's no longer a hunchback
because of me.

He knows
it was all a foolish mistake.

I'm sure that instead of blaming me,
he'll defend me.

Farewell, my darling girl.

Your grandfather, César Soubeyran.