All language subtitles for Motorcycle (1968)

Daniel!

No!

Daniel!

No, please!

Help!

Oh God, I must see him.

I must go to him.

Raymond, Raymond.

Wake up.

Well just touch me and I won't go.

Mm, skin.

It's like skin.

I'm like an animal.

No, no, even if Raymond had woken up,

I'd have gone anyway.

Sometimes it's an instinct to fly.

I'm not going to feel guilty.

Oh, there he is.

Was he really asleep or
just afraid to see me go?

Well he'll hear me now.

What a place you've brought me to, Raymond.

Nothing but cemeteries and military camps.

Nearly a million killed here.

This place stinks of old wars.

And what did they die for?

Every street's got a soldier's name on it.

Bleeding, Switzerland, we only have one, a general.

I can't remember his name anyway.

Another cemetery, but not all the dead are buried.

Why don't they rebel?
At least the young ones.

Rebellion's the only thing that keeps you alive.

Hell, I haven't brought any money with me.

And I've left my watch behind.

Oh, well, this'll do for a drink in Germany.

Oh, shut up.

Fill him up, please.

Super.

A full tank, hmm?

You're going a long way?

Quite a way.

You know who I am, don't you?

My husband is a school teacher, Raymond Nase.

I've forgotten my money.

Would you please ask him on his way to school?

And he'll pay you.

Try stuff like that, you
look more like a racing driver.

But I know this bike.

There aren't two alike in
this part of the world.

It's a brute of a thing.

Your husband should use it.

He get to school quicker

and the kids wouldn't make so much fun of him.

It's my bike. No one else will ever use it.

Yes, Daniel I'll check the tire pressures.

Check the tires please. 28 back, 26 front.

36, front.

38, back.

Your husband's a very generous man.

Some lucky bastard.

Your husband's a very generous man.

Raymond use my bike? Let him dare.

But of course he wouldn't.
Not the daring kind.

Wouldn't even ask if he had
to walk a hundred miles.

The kids wouldn't make so much fun of him.

Why'd you let them?

I felt ashamed just hearing you tell me, Raymond.

And the rhyme starts, in fact,

where I come from, Switzerland.

Why are you waving your arm, Felipe?

What do you want?

I want to go to the toilet, sir.

Very well, you may be excused.

Silence!

This is too much!

What is this?

- Where is that radio?
- Well, I think

it was from outside.

Where is that radio?

Give me that, boy! Where's the radio?

- Where is it?
- Over there, over there.

Where is it, son?

Over there, over there.

Come on, stand up, boy! Where's that radio?

At least...

I thought you liked music, sir.

You call that rubbish music?

Right. I think that may have done it.

Daniel's right, of course. He's always right.

Town's die in their suburbs.

Imagine living in a house like that.

Suffocating, slow suffocating death.

Aren't I dying?

Being married is a little death, living here.

Christ, I'm talking like I've been married for years.

And it's only two months.

It's his bloody kindness that's killing me.

Damn!

Look, Daniel, I can rub them out

like something in a drawing book.

Twist on the throttle and I obliterate

this muck and turn myself on.

Rebecca, at speed on a wet road,

you must anticipate a mile ahead.

Brake ever so gently and change
into third before you brake.

Now remember, hmm?

Remember? Everything.

Every single thing.

I fly towards you like those birds.

No, like a rocket zooming towards the sun.

Will you burn me up?

I want to be burned up.

I want it to be exactly the same.

Exactly like the last time.

When the clock strikes eight at Heidelberg,

I shall be in your arms.

Eight. It's still too bloody early.

Can't be more than, I don't know, four.

What time did I leave then?

I mustn't be too early.

I want him waiting in the summer house.

Ah, of course he'll know I'm coming.

He senses prey.

I'll stop for a while and let you sleep on,

have your breakfast, and I'll arrive

as you finish your coffee.

Oh, so warm.

Even this early.

Like thousands of fingers.

I think I only come to life when he touches me.

I'm a bit like a leave myself, green.

Not in that usual sense.
Very supple, yeah.

Bendable, just out of the bud. Young and pliable.

And there, the similarity ends,

picked by Daniel and the minute he picked me,

I began to die.

It seems so long. So bloody boring.

I've never known 12 days seems so long.

Oh, you have no idea how bored I've been.

I've been stultified. I like that word.

Is it the right word? Suffocated?

No, stultified.

And the bike waiting, almost champing at the bit.

No, much more viral than a horse and fast, fast,

Last time I passed this very
spot, it was already so hot,

the handle bars were burning through my gloves.

I was doing 130.

It's a woman.

You can't tell the difference these days.

Oh yes? Hmm, I can.

He knows I'm naked under this thing.

He could unzip me to see if I'm smuggling anything.
- Passport.

I've heard all about the way they search.

God, he'd do it too. A randy sod.

Only myself to declare.

Anything to declare?

Eh, what did I tell you?

Nothing at all, sir.

Nothing but myself as you can see.

And very pretty merchandise too.

You think? Are you sure?

Show me.

What?

The papers for your motorbike.

Well, good.

There you go.

Come back some time and give me a ride on your Pan.

I promise to hang on tight.

Now I'm leaving Raymond's
country and entering Daniel's.

Good morning. May I see your passport please?

Thank you. Have a good trip.

How beautiful my lover's country is.

Such architecture.

Your body's like a violin in a veil of a case.

Daniel, oh, Daniel.

Forgive me.

Dress like men!

Take the flowers out of your hair!

They don't suit you.

Poor bastards. Mostly kids.

Do they have time to make love?

Do they know how?

Were you ever a soldier, Daniel?

I can't imagine you're taking orders from anybody.

You'd never fall for all that flag-waving crap.

Rise quickly. Burn.

- How's that, Daniel?
- Idiot.

Haven't I told you, a clutch won't last

five minutes with that treatment.

You are just showing off. That's all.

Bastard!

Timid mice, caught in traps.

I'm caught. I run around my little cage.

I must ask Daniel why bridges
always look like mousetraps.

He'll know the reason,

and if he doesn't, he'll
invent one and I'll believe it.

That little space at the end,

that's the escape hatch for the time being.

Imagine, I once thought trains were fast.

Hmm. That funny little red
mountain train chugging away.

I felt so happy with Jean and Catherine.

They're so bloody uncomplicated.

Life could be very simple and I could enjoy it.

Look at his light reading.

"Schubert Symphony in B Minor."

Wouldn't a thriller be more appropriate

for a skiing weekend?

Thrillers are too clever for
me. I can never follow them.

Haven't you any ordinary,
common or fun adaptations?

Several.

He means me.

Here we are.

Thank you.

Come on, darling.

Oh, look at the view.

- It's beautiful.
- Yeah.

- Right here.
- Oh, okay.

- See you later.
- See you downstairs.

- Okay.
- This is mine.

A red room. Sexy.

Red for danger.

- Thank you.
- Same to you.

Oh, beautiful.

My room's next to yours.

So?

Don't lock your door tonight.

Oh, let's make another run! Come on.

Oh. No, I've had enough.

All right, I'll pack it in too then.

Why? Aren't you enjoying yourself?

- Not particularly.
- Liar.

You never do what you want to do,

you only do what you ought to do.

All right. We'll make a compromise.

We'll make one more run.

Good, now at last, you admit what you want to do,

but you know what you ought to do?

- No.
- You ought to tell me

to shut up and do what you want to do.

Oh, darling.

If you weren't always so reasonable,

you wouldn't drive me into being such a bitch.

You should get yourself another
girlfriend, somebody nice.

Not like me.

Oh, Rebecca.

Who is that man staring at you at the bar?

Do you know him?

I think I may have seen him

come into my father's bookshop.

Stupid!

You can't put Oscar Wilde
next to Charlotte Bronte.

That would cause an awful scandal.

Where does it go then?

Next to Bernard Shaw and St. Augustine, of course.

It's odd the bedfellows a
man does keep when he's dead.

Good morning. Good morning.

Uh, I was passing and wondered if that copy

of "African Genesis" had come in yet?

No, no, I'm afraid not.

You see, English publishers
are like the almighty.

They ignore orders and they
have no sense of urgency,

but I picked up something the other day,

I think may be of interest to you.

Copy of Sheldon's "Divinity."

The Marcel edition?

No. Uh, you do know my
daughter, Rebecca, don't you?

- No.
- Oh darling.

This is Monsieur Daniel, um...

- Cologne.
- Uh, Cologne,

from Lausanne, lectures at Heidelberg.

Ah, "On Divine Love and Wisdom."

Oh, I'm sure I sold you
a copy of that last spring.

- I haven't read it yet.
- Oh, pity.

Anyway, winter is the season for divine wisdom.

As for divine love,

that's valued all seasons of the year.

And I don't think Rebecca will deny that.

Well I'll go fetch the "Divinity."

Here we are.

I can't wait to get my hands on that.

In mint condition.

I'll certainly take it. Thank you.

Interesting man.

Typically Swiss despises German thought,

but exploits it.

Oh, you're crazy.

- Come on.
- Oh, no!

- Come with me!
- Oh, no!

Come on, no!

Oh, no!

I'll give you mine. Come on, come on.

- You won't need your own.
- Uh-huh, you think so, huh?

- I need to go lie down.
- Woo.

- Good night.
- Good night.

Good night, Raymond.

Good night.

Here I am.

No. No, not this one.

White, white for Raymond.

No, I can't.

Oh no. What's wrong with me?

I can't go through with it.

Rebecca.

Rebecca?

Raymond.

You must be drunk.

I knew you weren't Raymond.

I've never been so happy.

He didn't even look back.

Rebecca?

Rebecca, it's me!

Come on, get, do you want go skiing?

It's 10 o'clock.

You have been asleep for hours.

How, how do you know I've been asleep?

- I came into your room.
- When?

Soon after we came up,

I kissed your nose, but you didn't stir.

It must be the mountain air.

Yes. Must be the mountain air.

Raymond do, do we have to wait three months

before we get married?

It's your father's idea that I qualify

and get that job in...
- No, that's a waste

I'll persuade him.

Let's get married next week.

Please, Raymond. I'm frightened.

- Frightened of what?
- Of losing you.

Or myself.

If only you knew.

And if only I knew for sure.

And so they married and lived happily ever after.

It's a sick joke.

It's mad that we both rushed to marry.

Who was the first after leaving school?

That fat Giselle.

What an unsuitable name.

All in white with her little hands stuck out

of those lace sleeves like pig's trotters.

Why did I do it?

Better than the bookshop nine to five.

24 hours nonstop stuck in a lousy suburb,

immersed in Switzerland.

And what's the future? Lots
of babies and not much money.

Pushing the pram around the local cemeteries

and no escape for one's own self,

So why did I marry Raymond?

Stop becoming a turd.

- Good morning.
- Oh, good morning.

What have you got on Swedenborg.

It was him, of course. A stranger.

And he knows more about my
body than anyone in the world.

Yes, I purchased a few months ago. Wait a minute.

"The Humanity and the Redemption."

I know I've got it somewhere.

- I'll look in the office.
- Thank you.

I knew it was you.

Yes.

Well I have the English abridged,

but "The Redemption", I must
have it somewhere downstairs.

Shall I go and get it for you?

No, no, I must get used to looking

for things myself, huh?

Trouble with daughters is they get married.

This one's getting married in a few weeks.

Congratulations.

She looks rather pale for a bride.

You can see she breathes nothing but book dust.

If you can spare her for an hour,

I'll take her out on my bike.

Bring some color to your cheeks.

Yes, you go along.

Hmm? Why not?

Might wake her up a little.

Go along. You haven't been
out since you went skiing.

I'll have your books ready
for you when you come back.

- Thank you.
- Right.

Off you go.

Here we are.

Hold tight and put your feet up.

And not too fast!

She's never been on motorcycle before!

Hold tight.

Around my waist, put your arms around my waste.

Hang tight.

Are you okay?

Where are taking me?

A place I know.

I began to think you wouldn't come again.

Well I've returned.

It's been two weeks.

I thought you didn't want to see me again.

That's what I'd think you'd say.

What?

Not to see you again.

- Why did you come?
- Shut up!

Why did you decide you don't want to see me again?

Was it because you didn't like me

or because I was engaged to be married?

Yes!

Which?

Two kilometers ago, I said which,

because you didn't like me or
because I'm getting married?

Because I didn't like you.

Because there's no future in it, you mean?

Yes.

And why did you?

Because there is a present.

Oh, blasted!

I mustn't flirt with that negro this time.

And he better keep his friendly hands off me too.

Oh, he's not here. Pity.

This one looks horrible.

Identity card,

papers for the motorbike.

How much money do you have?

50 marks.

I bet he's queer.

Passport and green card please.

No luggage?

What are you doing in Germany?

Just trying out the bike on the Autobahn.

In Alsace, the roads are too narrow,

too much traffic for safety.

What a couple of nasty bastards.

Why did I bother to lie?

What business is it of theirs?

Last time I came, it was so warm.

I like to be warm.

It was a cold wind that killed my mother,

Perhaps it's an omen, this cold wind.

Oh, I'm stupid.

Champagne! My darling Dionysus!

And water for Raymond. Poor old Raymond.

I must attract teachers.

Both of them, husband and lover.

I like the word lover.

Raymond obviously knows I
have a lover and allows me to.

Daniel allows me nothing.

Treats me like a slave.

When he lets me go, he knows
I'm not free even then.

What do you teach, Daniel?

Philosophy?

Psychology?

Anthropology?

I know! You're a doctor of pornography!

I should feel guilty.

I know I should feel guilty. Poor Raymond.

I was an adulterous teenage bride.

Did I marry him because I was a masochist?

Daniel said I did. Then he would.

Daniel. What was it Daniel said?

"In 15 years, there won't be any more marriages."

I was born too soon. All free love.

"Free love, free field.

We love but while we may." Who?

Playboy Magazine, sir?

Probably, but quoted from Tennyson.

I didn't know they thought of free love in his time.

What do you think of it?

In relation to the alternative, marriage?

You get to eat the biscuit

without having to buy the packet, right, sir?

What do you understand by free love?

Come on, one of you.

It's your generation that will do away

with the marriage custom.

Well, free love as being free to love someone

without a permanent commitment.

Not bad, as far as it goes.

Free love, love without marriage,

love without love.

Now for love, let's say, make love. So?

Desire without love. Possible?

Of course, sir. You can fancy
a girl without loving her.

So what is love?

It's the most misunderstood word in any language

and the most misused.

We use it as a blanket to cover

all the dark emotions, desire,

lust, the need to hurt, to be hurt.

But doesn't love make these
other emotions acceptable?

If you mean respectable, say so.

If virtue is its own reward, then so is sin, right?

I suppose so, sir.

Then isn't love just a word to make sin respectable

to ourselves as much as others?

And isn't marriage just a form of protecting ourselves

from pointing fingers and wagging tongues?

- I suppose it is.
- Oh, is it?

Then go away. Fall in love.

Then come back and tell me how free you are.

You'll find there are still a
few problems with free love.

Oh, what's wrong with free love, Daniel?

Oh yes, I see.

Poor Girl. Four down and one to go.

She looks exhausted, but it's
not vitamin pills she needs.

Just like you told me. Daniel,

German drivers prefer to
travel in convoy like soldiers.

What was it you said? "Like lemmings."

All of us like lemmings on our way

to the cemeteries, one way or another.

I always thought I had identity.

No mother, that gave me distinction at school,

and a scholarly father.

The teachers liked that.

Identified by my parents, but no identity.

I have no identity.

Lost forever in you, Daniel.

A randy bitch, permanently on heat.

That's what you want, isn't it?

You don't care, do you?

You're a sadist, my darling.
A magnificent sadist.

You're a bastard!

Bastard!

Bastard!

Like a bloody mausoleum.

Daniel, I wonder if this is where you hide

all your dark secrets.

God, I must have a drink.

There's still time to kill.

Oh, still only half-past six.

Breakfast? Coffee?
- No, Kirsch please.

The way you taughtme to drink it.

A room and a bottle of Kirsch.

- Certainly, monsieur.
- Room eight, it is open.

- Thank you.
- He's been here before.

Come in.

Merci, monsieur.

How stupid.

Daniel, I do wish you'd teach
me to drive a motorbike.

I will. We'll start tomorrow.

Now remember, treat machinery as if it were human

and it responds.

It's only people who allow themselves

to be treated as machines, right?

Let the clutch in gently, no more.

Now, give the engine a little throttle.

Kick!

Now feel it. Hit it into first.

Now slowly, turn.

Very slowly. Here we go.

Turn. Easy, easy.

That's good.

Little more throttle. Not too much.

Take it easy.

A little more throttle.

No, too much!

Easy.

Now, change it to second.

Hey! And, that's it.

- I did it!
- No, hey, look!

Stop!

Look to the right, ease up!

You don't have to shout at me like that.

I have to shout above the engine!

All right, stop blabbering and change gear again.

Right, next turning, change down.

Don't turn around, idiot!

Here, now! Don't look around!

Well, how was that?

Not bad. Slight improvement.

Sit behind.

I'll show you how to take the bends.

Hold tight.

I change down just before I get there.

Now, lean into the bend.

Don't be afraid.

The speed takes me around.

- Got it?
- Oh, yes.

Yes, I think so.

- Right, on your own.
- No, no, I couldn't.

You can do it.

Good!

A motorbike is closer to you than any human being,

a car, it's something outside of yourself.

But a motorbike becomes part of you.

You are the sensations, they're in-between your thighs.

Has that been the only love in your life?

That's a stupid thing to say.

Of course it hasn't,

and love is also a stupid word.

Always crawling through labyrinths of sentiment.

Love is a feeling.

So is a toothache.

What do you do with a toothache?

If it hurts too much, you pull it out

by the roots then it's dead, no more trouble.

Is that what you did with her?

Where is she now?

Is she dead?

If you like.

Daniel, would you marry me?

No.

Because of her.

You said she was dead.

It'd still be the reason.

Daniel, in three weeks time,
I'm going to marry Raymond.

I'll note that in my diary.

I must send you a wedding present.

Just come and look.

The most ridiculous wedding present I've ever seen in my life.

Uh, signature.

- You can't accept it!
- It's out of the question!

The man may be well off, but there are limits.

You can't accept it! Send it back!

Should I, Raymond?

Is that what you want me to do?

Not if it makes you unhappy.

- Do what you want to.
- Oh,

Merci.

Well, you had your chance there, Raymond,

and you missed it.

I know who is going to be unhappy.

Please.
- Yes?

Please?
- Yes, I'm coming.

"Daniel, today is it.

I'm going back to France by train.

You can keep your bloody bike."

"Dear Raymond, darling Raymond.

Oh, Christ.

The point is I've left you.

I mean, I'm not coming back.

I can't help it."

He never gives me any identity.

He never even says that I'm, I'm pretty.

My black devil, make love beautifully.

Like my red devil, Daniel.

You're his ponce, and this be

the harsh and stormy lands of my client.

Take me to him, my black panther.

Oh, Christ.

You bloody fool.

You silly little cow to drive like that.

You should have been killed! And you deserve it.

You're quite right. I was a silly bitch.

I must pull myself together.

Don't worry, darling.

I'll keep my body unmangled for you.

And I know my body's all you care about.

Why do I do it?
Daniel, why do I come here?

Because you want to.

Because I want to?

Yes, because I want you.

Does that make me a nymphomaniac?

Darling, am I a nymphomaniac?

A bit, I suppose.

So cunning to give me that motorbike

for a wedding present.

If it weren't for that, how else would I be able to get here?

Do you know, all Raymond said was,

"I would've thought one of your father's friends

could have given you a more useful wedding present."

Poor Raymond.

I often tried to tell him.

God knows often I tried,

but it seemed pointless, too late.

And then, I decided to keep the bike.

Just to spite you for giving it to me,

and then never see you again.

How long did I keep that up?

- A month.
- 15 Days.

Not that you'd have noticed.

You know why I married Raymond in such a hurry?

I married him as a protection against you.

I tried to make him happy.

I tried desperately to forget you.

Do you know what I've been doing to get you out of my system?

Every night before I go to sleep,

I list your faults in my mind,

your cruelty, your arrogance,

your conceit, your callousness.

It's easy to think of them.

Then I concentrate on each one.

Hoping that when I wake up in the morning,

I wouldn't be thinking of you, but I do.

And I know you don't love me.

Did you send her roses?

Constantly.

You never send me any.

You'll never love anyone but her,

whoever the hell she was.

Let's say that I shan't love anybody anymore.

Let's leave it at that.

Don't blow on cold ashes by either one.

It gets into your eyes.

On my way here. I called you a sadistic bastard

at the top of my voice, and I meant it.

Is that how you see me?

Is that the way you want me to be?

I don't know. I don't know.

Your toes are like tombstones.

Thank you.

In fact, you're far from irresistible.

Then why did you ask me to come?

I never asked you to come.

You did, my darling.

You sent me that wonderful motorbike

and I'm paying for it in installments,

but now it's paid in full.

I shan't come here anymore ever.

I give you 10 days.

But you were wrong there, my darling.

It was 12 days.

I know, I counted them.

Typical.

Even when they get out into the country,

these morons have to sit in their cars.