Original subtitles

At the beginning of the 7th century AD,

Europe, afflicted by wars, invasions, famines, regicides and epidemics,

saw the contemporaneous existence of three important figures.

In Rome, destroyed by the barbarians of Alaric, Pope Onorius I,

an illuminated and severe pontiff.

In the East, the emperor Heraclius I, heir to the ancient throne of Byzantium,

ambitious and cunning.

Beyond the Alps, Dagobert I, of the Merovingian dynasty.

Well, the destinies of these three characters, intertwining,

would have produced unpredictable consequences.

Heraclius I, Onorius I, Dagobert I,

who will really be the first among the three?

We'll know soon.

The Good King Dagobert

Look at him. What am I to see!

Unrepentant fornicator!

Who spoke? - The Holy Church.

Otarius! I was in a dream of such a sensual pleasure,

and you wake me up screaming like a sow.

I am the mouth of the Holy Church. For it I keep watch so that you, sinner,

do not fornicate out of the sacred vase of Nanthilde, your bride

before God and men.

But Alpaide gives me her milk.

She delouses me, debugs me. She's like a second mother to me.

And made you forget the teachings of the first.

Not all of 'em!

She taught me as well not to trust monks.

But I am not a mere monk. I'm the palace headmaster!

Don't you forget, Dagobert.

What were you dreaming, thus, of so enjoyable, my king?

If I told you, it would no longer be my dream.

Often the Devil takes advantage of our dream to creep into us.

And by where would he pass?

By the nose holes.

It is demonstrated by the recent Council... of the Bishops of Campania.

And if I hold my nose?

There are ears.

I can plug even those.

And don't tell me where he could pass by.

The Devil knows, like you and me, that I suffer from dysentery, he'd never dare!

But, majesty!

Out, shoo away!

From now on address me in writing. I can't read, anyway.

Beware, majesty!

There is no crown that can avoid the wrath of the Almighty!

And neither a head that cannot fall until the crown is on mine.

And if I get pissed, at the next stop...

I'll have you beheaded.

Go away!

The milk is finished, pity!

Alpaide!

I dreamed that I slept in a nice warm bed and outside it was sunny.

I dreamed that I was playing with the king.

At what game?.

I'm not telling you. - Come on, tell us. - No.

Let's go, the king's awaiting us.

Halt!

Stop!

What's up? - Don't know.

Otarius!

Look.

Deliver us from evil!

Hey, warn the king. Quick!

He's on the throne!

Scratch there.

Majesty! - This way? - I caught it! - Yeah, what is it?

There's a snag on the way. Come, it's important.

More important than what I'm doing?

I'm afraid so, majesty.

Another one! - You see?

When one is king, he can't even do it in peace.

Gimme the thingy. - What?

The thing, there, the cloak.

How is it? - Soft.

And the smell?

Strong!

Then I'm getting better.

What is it, monk?

Majesty!

What is it? - Something horrible, majesty!

Always something happening, here!

Come, majesty. - What's that?

Look, majesty.

It is a swine's head with the crown. The allusion is clear.

There is a spy among us. - It's the barbarians' symbol, my king. - Yes.

You're right. All right, get it off. Soon!

Majesty, ask me to put my arm on the fire, but not to touch that curse.

Well... you then.

Who, me? - Yes, you! It's your king who so orders you.

Didn't you tell me a hundred thousand times that fetishism and sorcery

have no place in a Christian heart?

It's true, majesty. - Who is the most Christian between us?

Is it you, or I? - I, majesty.

Then prove it. Get this stuff out of the way!

Throw this curse away, I order you!

Per le sacre piaghe del Cristo, majesty,

I will have to pray and say litanies for long before touching this devilry.

How much praying?

3 hourglasses, at least. - No, it's too much! 3 hourglasses, no.

Clear out now!

Let your king pass. - Majesty!

You, move that fetish. - Who, me? - Yes. - Him.

Then him. - Me? - Him!

Me? - You! - Him!

No, him!

But what's going on?

The barbarians! The barbarians!

Everybody on horseback! - Dagobert, the barbarians!

Oh God, the barbarians. Let's run!

Soldiers, save your king!

Give your lives, if need be.

Your life... for the king!

Oh God!

Let's flee!

Quick, my sword!

Give me my sword. - There is not.

When you need something you never find it.

Hey, you, come here. - Yes, my king.

Bring the crown to safety. - Thanks, majesty.

Lucky! He died to save his king.

Follow me, your king protects you.

- Help! - Help!

Every man for himself! - Help, they want to rape us!

Let them do, war is war.

An eagle.

A horse! My kingdom for a horse!

Oh God!

Who is it?

Female.

You, majesty... Dagobert!

My king!

Ah, my king.

Come on, get up.

Who are you? - My name is Crodielda.

But I already saw you. You're in my retinue?

Yes, kitchen service.

You're cold eh? - Yes, majesty. - You're shivering. Here...

My cloak.

Thank you. - It's heavy, eh?

Wait, let's do this way.

There you go. - Thanks, majesty.

You feel fine under the king's mantle? Eh?

Yes. - That's done. Do you have trust?

You are not afraid of your king! - No, majesty.

How old are you? - Sixteen, majesty.

A beautiful age.

Wolves, majesty!

Wolves! Wolves! - Where?

There.

Majesty!

Majesty! - Courage, run.

Don't leave me, I'm afraid!

Don't be afraid, your king protects you. - Majesty!

Disgrace. Shame!

A king without crown and sword is less than a man. The wolves know it.

There they are, they laugh at me.

"Lupus diabolicus"

Everything is lost, even the honor, I abandoned the faithful subjects,

my devoted handmaids. I'm alone on a tree in the middle of the forest!

Me, a king? - I'm here too, my king.

What are you? Who are you? - Crodielda. You're not alone, majesty.

I had forgotten you, my spirit is upset,

all those poor slaughtered soldiers,

and Alpaide in the hands of... those villains, black as hell!

By the way, how do you fare in "bowls"?

I can't surely compete with Alpaide, but I defend myself.

Not from your king, I want to hope. Come on, show off, show off. Come on!

Your king is the best judge in the realm.

On my lost crown, I swear the Creator seems not to have skimped on graces with you.

Crodielda, Crodielda, I want you, come.

Majesty! But I'm maiden.

Ah, that's indeed good news!

What's this?

I'm scared!

Wonder, of ignorance daughter! This is the king of your king.

Come on, ride me, do the Amazon, let's run a gallop!

No! No!

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

Oh yes! Mom!

What is it? A wolf? Who are you?

Why? - What do you mean, why?

I said, who are you?

Who, me? Otarius.

Otarius?

And you?

I'm the king! Who else?

Thank God! Majesty, it's you.

So you were spying. And you saw?

Only heard. I heard shouting "mom" from a female voice.

You're not alone?

Well, no, not completely.

You heard right, in fact "mom". I was deflowering a virgin.

On a tree?

Well, birds do nothing else on trees.

His Holiness...

wrote me that he disapproves of your adulterous exploits!

Do not challenge God's wrath!

Today your God has forgotten me.

You find normal that the king of Franks is perched on a branch

with drooling wolves waiting for him to fall?

I protest! Come on, tell him.

I'm not very familiar with him, and this is your job. Come on, pray, I wait.

Look, my king, the wolves leave.

Bravo, Otarius!

Thank you, Lord.

My God, forgive me.

I vow to consecrate myself and my people to the defense of the Church. - Look!

Ah, that's why! I withdraw my promise.

It's Argobal.

Courage, Argobal.

Damn Judas! He's coming towards us.

Argobal, wimp, what're you doing? Don't bring them here! We're already too many.

That shit will make discover his king.

My God, let me get out of here,

and I swear on the Holy Cross I'll go to Rome to the good Pope Onorius

to become a better Christian, I swear.

Lord, save us, the king has sworn.

Here they are.

Argobal, my fearless hero, can you hear me?

Yes, my king. - Good.

For your bravery, I appoint you Count of Australia. Are you glad?

Yes, my king.

Monk, bless him.

Majesty...

You go first, monk. It looks to be rotten.

Is it sturdy? - Yes, majesty.

Majesty... - Ah, no, let's not exaggerate.

By there.

I caught a quartan fever, you feel it?

Yes, yes, you're hot.

What's that? What beast is that, monk?

A bear?

Ah, no, it's a lumberjack. Come, log-splitter.

Good guy. I'm your king.

As you can see, my majesty is also a man like you. - Me?

No, me. I am the king, Dagobert. - Cagobert.

Dagobert, First, king of the Franks. - Where is he?

He is here, facing you.

The poor man has a head harder than his wood. Blockhead, tell me.

Where did you find the crown of your king?

I found it on the ground, under a bush. - Good boy.

I'm happy, congratulations, I won't forget, but now you have to give it back.

Come on.

But I'm the king, in the end! All right, look.

Take a look. Here you go.

You see? It's me, it's my profile.

He wants to see the other profile, the jerk.

Give it back. - Give it to him.

Keep it, the king gives it to you. - Stand up. I buy my crown from you.

Agreed?

King, you put the crown in reverse.

I put it on this way as a sign that it all went wrong with me since yesterday.

Perhaps someone up there doesn't love me, friar? - I'm afraid so.

You'd better fear someone down here. You, take us out of here. - Alright.

My simpleton, show us the way.

Forests are beautiful, I love trees, they are my friends.

I learned lots in these woods.

Me too, majesty. - Eh, yep, yep.

Lumberjack, I'll make you minister of forests. Oh my, the fever goes up!

Beauty, come here. - Down with those paws!

Hey, jester, how's the king? What do the doctors say about his poop?

They don't let anyone enter.

They don't want us to see what they're doing.

Also, but above all for the great stink.

What will happen when the queen arrives from Paris?

When he sees her, the king will make a nice shit!

What is the enemy? - They're actually two:

pneumonia gnawing at his lungs and dysentery devouring his intestines.

For the lungs I insist on bloodletting. I remind you of the best months

to extract blood according to rules. Three months.

May, September, April.

Never on May first or the last of April or September.

But what months you jabber on, colleague, if we're in February?

Necessity has no calendar. - It is not a healing method!

Eloi, Eloi.

It won't be a priest to save him, this I believe.

Don't forget his soul. I remind you that his majesty's one is like an empty cane.

Are you Eloi? - No, I'm Crodielda.

I want Eloi, I want the bishop.

Rhubarb is a laxative, bran dough is an astringent

combined with senna which is a purgative!

A quack's recipe! The king keeps losing his dejections.

Then, Aesculapius of my ass, what do you propose?

To give him a shit transfusion rectally.

Not prescribed by the Salerno school. - There's the queen, go!

Go, Crodielda.

I want Eloi.

I want the bishop.

Dagobert.

Dagobert!

My lord and groom, I'm here.

As soon as I heard of your illness,

I ran here from Paris on horseback.

What do you say?

I see you sick, but I brought you healing.

Ummerius, herbalist magician from Auxerre.

The man whose path is strewn with miraculous healings,

thanks to elixirs and potions that he himself discovered and distilled.

No. - Come, Ummerius.

Away! - Get away.

Open this, majesty.

It will now be necessary to help me... - No!

by plugging his nose.

It needs to be done to force him to open his mouth. Beware.

Open your mouth.

Open it. - Ready to pour.

Here, pour, it's the time.

It's viper's sperm, virgin's urine, adult toad's slime,

and natural aromas to give good flavor.

That's done. It will do him very, very good.

Enough, enough, now. - No, no, more, more.

If it can do him good, more, still more.

We must not exaggerate. - Incredible!

Here you go... Ah, he's already better!

Yes, he's really... he's already better.

I don't give him two hours of life.

I was immersed in an endless night,

tormented by the vision of my horrible sins.

Now I'm better. - The tisane of ??Ummerius.

No, thanks to Eloi's cross!

Medicine for the soul.

It is the wisdom of the Church, custodian of Christian kings.

Now I want to confess.

Everyone out.

Leave me alone, the sinner with the confessor.

Disappear.

Go, go.

Come on, go!

Out, out.

Leave us alone.

You too, friar! And close the door.

I know that on that tree you promised to go to Rome to the Pope,

to ask for forgiveness of your sins, and if you don't,

you'll be excommunicated and lose your kingdom and your soul.

For an extra concubine? It seems to me God exaggerates.

There are two men in you, one pious, the other lascivious.

Couldn't you deal with one and the other... separately?

You blaspheme every time you open your mouth.

Yes, but even if I didn't speak, I'd sin the same.

I know, unfortunately. - It's so obvious?

You think of one thing only, even before your bishop,

and if you don't do as promised, hell awaits you.

Only the Pope can save you.

I do not claim a complete acquittal...

but at least an amnesty. Can't I scrounge an amnesty?

Nowadays nobody is denied one.

Papa Onorius has a difficult task, he's the arm and the beam of the scales.

On one side Heraclius, emperor of Byzantium,

creates religious problems close to heresy,

on the other you, with your vices and crookedness.

Right, a Pope between a heretic emperor and an erotic king.

Precisely, while you both should be the Church's hauberk, and its sword.

Well, then it's decided: when I have recovered my strength, I will leave.

Just made.

"The doctor treats, nature heals"

Here, suck.

Thank God. Thank you, my good Eloi.

I will announce to the Court my departure for the Eternal City.

May the Lord accompany you.

My majesty Dagobert I, king of the Franks.

Come, majesty.

The culottes are inside out.

Silence!

Learn: for the king, the outside is the inside, and the opposite is his whim.

So, your king will face a trip to Rome.

I will bring my devoted homage, as well as yours,

to the father of the Holy Mother Church, the Pope...

I've finished.

I'm bursting.

Majesty!

Yes, I do it here, I'm at my home, right? Don't look, you.

Landek, come. What good is power if it's not abused?

Hey, you, slowly.

Roll these barrels slowly, it's a wine of great value. Go easy.

Why so much wine?

Well, it's... My sweet queen, the journey will be long,

and the content of those barrels will make it less tedious.

Majesty!

This sword will accompany you to Rome.

But it's wood.

It is a symbol of a king messenger of peace, that's why it's made of wood.

Well said!

Thanks, Eloi, I'll take it up to Rome.

Here, Minister. This sword is the most beautiful day of my life.

Hurray the Pope! Well, we go.

Come, monk. - Majesty.

Otarius!

Hurry up! Finish loading! Everyone on board!

Did you hear the king's order?

Go, witch.

Such a long journey! I don't envy him, poor Dagobert.

Come on, beauties, get out!

Out, quick.

Inside, inside.

Come and enjoy this young wine!

The great adventure of the good King Dagobert was beginning then.

He was undertaking an arduous journey to meet a character that he feared

and had always tried to avoid,

bringing, among the provisions, his concubines, that is,

just the cause for which he was going to beseech a difficult forgiveness.

Dagoben feared the wrath of heaven,

but challenging it was stronger than him.

Pray for those poor hanged ones.

Is it you, Landek? - It's me, majesty.

It's a regal night, Landek. Look.

It seems there are even more stars than yesterday.

If God did not exist, we would have to invent it.

Beautiful! Your sayings, majesty, will one day be on everyone's lips,

but look, you're wrong about the stars.

There is one less than yesterday.

What's that? What is it?

A barbarian? A Swabian?

It's a funeral. - Here is a barbarian I do not fear.

Do not jest about death, Landek.

In my kingdom you don't joke about it.

Hear the king making love. - Lucky him.

Stop, stop, the king is sick. - The king has a toothache!

Halt! - Pull out the tooth-puller!

The barber-surgeon!

What is it, majesty? Now, don't be afraid.

Now I'll tear it off and you won't feel anything.

No, you hurt me more than the hurt I already have.

No, nothing, nothing, nothing.

I swear on Aesculapius. - Come here, you. - Coming.

We'll see. Would you give an arm for your king? - With joy.

I've good news for you: keep your arm, I just need a tooth.

Come on, tear it off him, so I see if it hurts.

Yes, majesty. - No! - Stop! Where's he going?

No! - Open your mouth!

No!

Stop him, stop him!

Hold him still. - Turn him.

Be still, it's an instant.

Quiet... Done!

Seen, majesty? He didn't feel anything.

Yes, but I heard, though. Thanks, you may go.

Come on, guys, let's go!

You know my toothache's gone? It's really true that one pain drives out another.

Come on, go! - Push!

Come on, go! - Come on, push!

Easy...

Go easy, guys.

Put me down.

You see? - We're bogged down. - Nice trouble! - What do we do? - Sire!

It won't be easy to get untangled. We're stuck.

I think it'll be very tough to cross the Alps.

So, you have any suggestions? - I've an idea, majesty.

Just one? - It's urgent to warn the Holy Father.

I propose to precede you and inform him.

Yes, it's a good idea. So I'll get rid of him.

Give him a good horse. - Yes. - But not mine, beware. - Well.

Yes, that one is fine.

Don't stop along the way.

Tell the Pope I'll be in Rome at the latest... - At the earliest, you mean!

No, at the latest in a month.

He never understands me.

And don't tire my horse, eh?

Oh, Holiness!

Holiness!

He came down!

He came down! You have it on your head.

Look, Holy Father, the Holy Spirit.

There it is.

Cornelius, I wear out my tongue repeating you that the Holy Spirit

is the third person of the Trinity who proceeds from father to son.

I don't believe my modest person is worthy of it.

You don't need to be St. Augustine to understand that, clear?

Yes, Holy Father.

Off!

As you can see, it's true that the Holy Spirit is represented by a dove,

but not all doves are the Holy Spirit.

Holiness, sorry.

A messenger of the king of the Franks

humbly begs Your Holiness to be received in first hearing.

Who is he? - It's a monk, and states that it is of utmost importance.

Well, let him be taken to the library.

My poor brother, but you are sleeping.

I sleep? No.

Who is it? - I, your Pope.

My Pope...

Wake up, brother.

It's difficult to converse with someone who sleeps.

Holy Father... - Yes?

But it's you!

Forgiveness! Forgiveness, venerable Holy Father.

I did not realize I was in your presence.

They told me you bear a message from the king of the Franks.

You bear reply to my letters?

What is it? Do you have any impediment?

I am stuck, Holy Father, unable to get up.

Eleven days upon a horse.

And a whole night underneath, when he tumbled over me.

No, stay where you are, do not move, stay.

But communicate the message. So then?

Most Holy Father, Dagobert I, king of the Franks, is on his way to Rome,

and sooner or later he will be here, before you, to confirm his devo...

His devo... - That's not why I took the burden to write to him.

And to...

And to be forgiven for the mortal sins tormenting his soul like the fires of hell.

What sins?

Enunciate all the mortal and venial sins that the king of the Franks committed.

Venial, very few, mortal ones, all.

And even some more.

I have the list here.

Here is to you.

On a tree?

There.

Supreme Shepherd, I understand your indignation.

Indeed, better, I share it,

but I implore your holy patience.

Do meet the king, know him, and look for what's good in him.

Vain research.

Punish him, if you will, for... for what is evil in him,

but my duty... my duty is to implore you to understand that the king is a believer...

and faithful...

faithful servant of the Church.

Our Lord who art in Heaven, take care of Dagobert's soul,

king of the Franks, who much has to be forgiven for his sins.

Great God!

I levitate. I'm levitating!

What are you doing? What are you doing? Soldiers! Let go of me!

Betrayal! Betrayal!

Open that sack, quick!

Take. Go on, take all that I have, son.

I only hope that what they gave you... - Down!

...to strip me of it is worth more. - Get ready to die.

Lord, forgive them because they don't know what they're doing.

Wait, sorry, why do you say we don't know what we're doing? - You know it?

We have to cut off your head. - I understood that.

But why?

Yeah, why? - But why you ask why?

Because he's the Pope. - For me he's just a man.

But you know why you do it? - I know. They paid me for it.

But you do this just because they pay you?

Enough! I know I was ordered to kill him and I'll kill him!

Let's go. May God welcome his soul.

Come, Sanctity, I will hide you in a safe place.

What did they find?

Give it here. - What is it?

One would say a leophant tooth. - Are there leophants here?

We're on the Little St. Bernard, majesty. - So?

You are passing where another great leader of the past passed.

And who's he? - A... - A...

Archimedes. - No. - A...

Aristotle.

Hannibal! Hannibal! It's Hannibal. Let's go.

I'll make of it a gift to the Pope, who is a friend of animals.

The king is here!

Here comes Dagobert, the king of the Franks!

The king of the Franks. Let's go see. Run!

Roman people, hello.

Don't overdo with those coins, don't overdo it.

Long live the king! - Who is that?

Dunno!

Hello, monk.

Ave. - Ave.

Ave, Caesar.

You're strong. - Majesty, I kiss your hand.

Majesty... - What are you mumbling? Speak out.

The Pope is scandalized by your whims, he's furious, he threatens hell.

Good thing I sent you ahead. Nice result!

Be prudent, humble, serious, servile and prone to repentance.

Everything at once? - You owe it. By this way. The key!

The symbolic key of the city gate. The key...

Where's the hole? - Ah, here it is. - Yes.

Further down. No, no, more inside.

Is that its key?

Turn, push. Again.

All right, you do it! Let's see how you do. Go.

You're good, eh? You know it all, eh? - Forgive me.

Now, to the right.

To the right.

Of course you had to fall over me!

Majesty, I am Cardinal Basilius. The Pope is there.

Dagobert! - Yes, all right, I understood!

Forgive my blunder, Holiness, but if the cowl doesn't make a monk,

even less it makes a Pope.

Forgive this which is the smallest of my faults.

Do not worry for so little, son.

Great is our enjoyment in receiving the most powerful of Christian kings.

I don't know if the most powerful, but certainly the most devoted.

I lay my crown at your feet, in the service of the Holy Church,

and I declare to this assembly,

so that all may know it, and no one ignore it,

that we are now the soldiers of Christ.

Only yesterday

we were barbarians.

Tomorrow we will be seated at the common table of refinements,

of spirit and good manners.

Today we are what we are.

Unpredictable, rough, wild.

Our nature is still cluttered with pagan usages,

with primitive habits,

sometimes fierce, sometimes orgiastic,

where the females and their asses,

not to mention their other appurtenances,

in short, all the stuff you know,

are of enormous importance.

Dagobert!

Do not forget that you are in the house of the Lord.

I beg your pardon, Holy Father, for what I just finished saying.

Not finished! I guess you'll have more to tell me tomorrow.

For today you already said a lot. Then, Dagoberi, I think you're tired.

I already prepared for housing you and your retinue.

Do you have any other desire? - I have two, yes.

Do you want to take a bath?

No, I took it before leaving.

But I would like to pray on the tomb of Simon Peter,

the most glorious martyr and best example for kings and their subjects.

Granted. The other wish?

And then I'd like to give you a small gift.

It will always be welcome.

Gontrano.

Yes, majesty.

But where were you? Give me that bone.

Well, I'll be! Nice great bone!

Who knows what a broth! Thank you.

It's a Ieophant tooth of the great Hannibal who invaded Italy.

And when did it happen? Nothing was said to me.

I should think so! It has been eight centuries.

Oh, yes, nice big tooth, really. Thank you, son.

Rutilius. - At your orders, Holiness.

Take this tooth away.

Let's go.

Dagobert.

I can't believe it.

It's not the Pope I've known.

You're always pessimistic. What friar are you?

Remember? You put my heart and tripe in turmoil. The Pope this, the Pope that.

I thought I'd find a hyena, and here's a sheep. - Unbelievable.

It all looks fishy.

You're sick, old man. Come on.

Here you go, mistress. With this, the donkey gave all her milk.

Please, Aco, move the curtains. - Well.

Beautiful!

Yes, you're so beautiful.

Give me a kiss, turtledove.

How sweet you are. - Princess.

He's come, he's here! - You saw him? How is he?

Look.

Is he so ugly? - On the coin he looks even better, princess.

Aco.

Holiness, I remind you of what you promised me: to speak to me in secret.

And where better than a grave?

Leave us alone.

What do you do here? - I could be useful to you.

I know more about you than you do yourself.

You'd better forget it, or this grave can become yours too. Go on, scram!

And don't make all that scene!

I have a weight on my conscience, please, confess me.

I know your sins. A nice catalog, no doubt about it!

But there is much spare forgiveness, for a great Christian king as you,

because the Church needs men like you

and like the Emperor of Byzantium, who protect her from her enemies, like

Africans, Persians, Jews, Berbers, Gypsies and Mamluks.

By busting their as... making them pay the penalty.

Supreme Shepherd, I am with you and the Church as my people with me.

Give me the absolution.

Then bend your head and concentrate in prayer.

I ... I ...

I absolve you in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Go, the mass is over.

I have big plans in mind for you, son.

Do you love hunting? - Yes, after another thing.

I've already arranged for tomorrow a big boar hunt on the other side of the Tiber.

Hectic days await you, king of the Franks.

I can't believe it. With me the Holy Father expressed intentions

to make the Archangel Michael tremble.

Now, hearing you, he seems another Pope. - Maybe he changed his mind seeing me.

Dimwit, the Pope is much more enlightened than a monk.

Sure.

The Pope can anything: extra, super, and with no control.

Yes, or rather, the end justifies the means.

Landek, take note for posterity: the end justifies the means.

Boar, to the two of us!

This way! But where are you going? - Go! Get away!

Where you going? This way!

This way, this way!

Who is it? - But it's the Virgin Mary!

Who are you to enter thus the dwellings of others?

Are you perhaps a king?

Well... Actually, I'm Dagobert, king of the Franks,

but this is not the reason for my tumultuous arrival.

I chased a boar with my people and it slipped in here.- Majesty,

I will never allow that blood be spilled into my house.

That poor beast has sought refuge here, and will have it. I want it.

Well.. What woman wants, God wants, and the king as well.

Am I right?

Well, then we'll retire and remove the trouble,

but I hope to give it back to you soon to see you again.

Come on, forward backwards.

Aco! - Yes?

When the day comes, prepare that boar marinated at the five herbs.

Understand? - Yes, princess.

Come in.

Holy Father,

we have here the illustrious Dagobert, Rex Francorum, in person.

Cornelius, quit stuttering and stalling, let him enter. - Yes.

His majesty Dagobert I, king of the Franks.

Happy to see you, son. Had a good hunting?

Well, I'm afraid, Holiness, that I myself was the game.

A dart pierced my heart.

I saw the Virgin Mary. - You don't say!

I spoke to her, and she answered.

It's a prodigy! I will convene a council.

Your Holiness, please forgive me. - Please.

My exaltation has perhaps led you into error.

It is, actually, my personal interpretation of the Virgin.

In truth I met a woman...

of a beauty... of a beauty, how to say...

extraordinary! Such as to make the daylight fade, you understand?

A dream female I'd like to have by my side.

So what?

Well, you can do anything, and maybe...

Dagobert...

You ask the Holy Father to help you get an extra concubine? Are you kidding?

But just one, in place of the others.

Dagobert, stop with this lustful filth!

As I told you, I've other plans for you. - But Holiness!

Please, do not insist!

You know who sent me this missive of primary importance? - No.

The emperor of Byzantium. - Heraclius?

Him.

After confirming his loyalty to my person,

and, learned the good news of your journey to the sacred throne...

You follow me? - Yes, yes...

Heraclius the Great declares his deference to the king of the Franks,

assures him his devotion, and his hope to see... er...

... to see unity of intents and alliances cemented thanks to a solemn marriage

between the daughter of Heraclius and Dagobert himself.

But...

Your Holiness, Dagoben himself is already married.

Ah, yes? But even a king can become a widower. - Yeah, right.

And then, you know Heraclius' daughter, Princess H�m�r�?

No. With all the respect I owe you, I don't see how...

So then, see before you talk, and don't abuse my patience.

She's not bad.

Princess H�m�r� of Byzantium.

How's that? Our Lady and the Princess of Byzantium...

are the same person?

Miracle!

My lady, allow me to kiss your shoes

for I dare not kiss your feet.

Fly! Fly to Byzantium, fly.

This way. Beware of the bishop!

Very good, well done. Don't drop it!

Here, come this way.

Good, here. Lay it down.

Here you go. The boar has arrived.

Oh, well...

What is that, snake? - Oh no! They are eels from Lake Bolsena.

It's a recipe of mine, a real delicacy.

You make them drown alive in Vernaccia wine, and then you roast them.

Eels? You'd ever thought they were eels?

Don't you know eels, majesty? - No.

You, I'd recognize you in a thousand, even if I were blind.

And how would you do? - By the taste.

I do not like vulgarity. - Oh, forgive me.

Then, by the smell.

You have a scent that I'd recognize even in a dunghill.

What a nice madrigal!

I meant that your perfume is so delicate

that I would never confuse it with another smell.

For example, horses.

I live among the horses that, you know, as for stinking...

Especially mine, that vents from everywhere like a bagpipe!

What a swine! - He'll pay for this!

Excuse me, it was just a joke.

You're pale like wax, monk. Why don't you honor our table?

I am in penitence, Holy Father. - I exempt you. Eat.

I like this Pope, he seems a Pope as I a virgin.

But why do you do penance, Otarius? - To punish me for evil thoughts.

You'll have a lot to fast, then!

So he'll starve to death and no longer be in my way!

Dagobert. - Yes?

Let's enjoy the papacy, for it's God legacy.

Yeah.

Hey, Holiness.

Vade retro, symbol of the devil!

Fear not, friar, it's not the serpent of the Earthly Paradise. - Yes, but...

I'd like to see you later.

Careful, friar!

You, majesty? Why are you here?

Well, I'm here...

Why didn't you stay with the others?

I'm not interested in the others but in you, H�m�r�.

At this hour? - This hour, an hour ago, in an hour, at any time...

Love throbs whenever it wants. Come on!

Hop, come here! - Shall I maybe scream?

Shall I have you thrown out by my servants like a thief or a drunk? Out!

Like a drunk perhaps, but not like a thief.

I just want what is owed me. - What is owed you!?

The wine brought you out of your wits, majesty. - You hurt me!

What? First you tease, you wink at me,

and then you repel me like a boor, like the last of the dish-lickers?

But I am a king, I am the king. - Dear Dagobert, if you are king,

I am maiden. - Better!

So you will have what you want from me only if and when I marry you.

Not sooner. - Nevermind.

Clear?

But I'll marry you!

Come in.

You told me to join you, I suppose...

to confess you.

And what about? - That's up to you to tell me.

Put your soul bare.

Well, usually, at night...

it is my body that I put bare.

What are you doing? What do you do?

All right, I'll wait for you to leave.

What now, you stop?

But no, but ... Go on, keep going, you must bare yourself!

Come on, slut, strip! You know I saw you on the tree?

I saw you, lewd girl, with these very eyes!

What did you see, you old crow?

I saw your burning flesh of bitch in heat.

I saw you, you and the king! And he, the swine, how obscene! No!

Be still. I saw the two of you. And I even heard:

the screams, the moans, the bellowings of beasts into ecstasy!

Calm down, friar, calm down.

But you're burning, your blood is to a boil! But I know a remedy.

You know which remedy? - Which?

Let's make Love. - Love?

Vade Retro!

Evil woman! Stand back, Satan!

Yes, let's make love as with the king on the tree.

That little king who hates you, despises you, mocks you. - Yes, let's do it!

Yes! - Like the king! On the tree!

Come, let's do it, let's do it. - Yes, love.

Yes, like him, on the tree. Come, I want to, come.

I'm better than him, I. The king is ugly.

Oh, Yes! - I'm handsome. - He is ugly.

You're handsome, yes! - You're beautiful too, damn it.

I'm damned! I'll end up in the flames of hell.

Hell is beautiful!

Who is it? - It's me.

Me who?

Come on, the king! Who else should it be?

Open, Ragnitrude.

I am Eglentina.

And where is Ragnitrude? I drank like three kings.

Ragnitrude! Ragnitrude!

I'm sick, majesty.

Those horrible eels ruined me. I don't even have the strength to open.

Let us sleep, majesty.

Why don't you go to Crodielda, your favorite?

Who is it? - One doesn't ask, one opens.

Oh God, Dagobert!

Crodielda, open the door to my regal person.

Not tonight, majesty. You've been very little regal with us tonight.

Open, and I'll prove to you the opposite.

Go to your Byzantine, she'll surely rid you of cravings.

Careful to you, I'll make you pay for it!

It's you who has to pay me for it.

From tomorrow the bill is reopened.

Open, I said, or I'll throw the door down.

Well?

What a night!

Where did you end up? - Me?

Majesty...

Forgive my boldness, this way you will arouse the palace,

his Holiness, the bishops.

What do I care? You have any idea of ??what occurs to me?

I'm full of females and they leave me with my tongue hanging out.

Can I do something for you? - You, man? No, this never!

Don't get me wrong. Would you like a woman, young and beautiful as there are few?

What virtues? - Easy.

Great master of love jousts, she was 2 years in the harem of 3 caliphs

where she got the patents of oriental lust.

Fallen in captivity and taken on a ship of Barbary pirates,

she so weakened them that they shipwrecked on the beach of Centum Celle,

and so she returned here, where she was born.

Yes, I like it! And who is this famous slut?

My sister Lavinia, majesty. - Ah! Take me to her instantly.

And what does your mom do? - Eh, she retired.

Lord, I humbly beg your forgiveness!

That wicked woman made me fall into carnal sin

against my will. You've been witness, I gave in,

I succumbed to the vertigo of his ardent and profound sex!

Lord, help me! Hell is between her legs, help me!

My God, help me! My God, help me...

Help me.

Otarius.

Otarius!

Who's calling me? - It's me, here. Your conscience.

On the wall. Look.

My conscience. Is it possible?

Then it exists! - Sure.

And who can it be if not me, Otarius, since I'm named like you?

What are you doing? Why punish yourself?

Weren't you enough all these years,

serving a king who despises and humiliates you?

It's true! Even that one said so a moment ago, you know? Crodielda!

I know! I heard, I was there too.

So why didn't you stop that abominable union, eh?

Why should I have?

Years of penance, humiliation, mistreating, versus a few minutes of pleasure?

And not only did I not prevent you,

but it was I who well advised you,

sending you to fornicate with the king's slut. - What?

But then, what conscience would I be?

Good or bad, I work in the shadows, I suggest...

I direct.

Why not talk to me like that before today?

You weren't ready yet.

Now it's time for you to become aware.

Together, we will do a good job, in our interest, for our glory!

Our glory.

We are no less worthy than others of enjoying the exhilaration of power.

And if you want it, we will call ourselves, perhaps,..

Otarius the Great.

Otarius the Great!

But stay quiet for now, resume your usual humble air.

Yes, like that, good. Like that, good!

Like that! Excellent!

Even more humble... There, perfect.

We will have them all in our power!

Don't look at the mess.

It won't be her? - No, no.

Who is it?

You old pimp, there's already a customer.

Excuse me, excuse me, Holy Father. It's... it's a bad prank. This...

This man took advantage of my state of intoxication...

I didn't want to disturb.

Perhaps you are here for my same reason?

I understand men and give you precedence. - No.

Come.

You blasphemed again, Dagobert, but I excuse you.

You mistook me for another one.

But now, sit down...

and listen... And you'll understand.

He whom you know as Pope is an impostor.

Abusing his resemblance to me, someone has placed him in my place.

But Pope Onorius I is myself, the one and only descendant of St. Peter.

Do you know Heraclius I of Byzantium?

Yes, the emperor of Byzantium, the father of H�m�r�.

Heraclius was about to be excommunicated for heresy.

So he thought to get rid of the Pope who wanted to condemn him, that is me,

and place one of his followers on the Sacred Throne,

a mediocre and unknown actor of Atellan farces, a certain Introchius.

Introchius?

Son of Introchia, from Acerra,

to whom Bishop Basilius gave hasty papal lessons.

No..!

It's not possible!

Majesty, forgive me.

Do you remember how you met the princess?

Well, yes, the wild boar, the hunt...

The boar was forced to slip into the villa's garden.

I commanded the men who led it there.

H�m�r� partakes in his father's plot.

He wants you to marry her, after, of course, eliminating Queen Nanthilde,

your bride.

No! - If H�m�r� had given birth to a male child, they would have killed you.

But that's incredible!

And on the throne of France, a grandson of Heraclius,

a direct and indirect emperor of an immense empire, would be seated.

Heraclius will not pass!

I will tell my soldiers: "Crush the scoundrel".

And with him, all the enemies of God.

I'm ready. I swear to you.

Good!

We will then establish how to eradicate the traitors of the Church.

Sunday there will be the consecration of the new basilica of St. Agnes.

That will be the chance.

Now go, I must pray. - Yes.

Let's go.

Lavinia.

Lavinia, know that his majesty will sleep here tonight.

May I go? - Yes, you may, indeed, you must.

See you tomorrow, majesty. - Go, go.

Can I do something for you, majesty? - Uhm, yes.

Probably yes. And several things!

Do you have a bed? - Yes.

Show it to me.

Well?

True what your brother says, that you practice harlotry?

And that you're outstanding in love duels?

I was. - How, "you were"?

No more since the Holy Father entered here, I have converted,

and when all is over, I will take the veil.

It's so exciting, converting a convert back! - No!

Please! - Show me how you made love. - No, majesty!

No, I implore you. - Come on, quiet. I'll do it in a moment. - How dare you?

On my bed!

Forgive me, leniency, Holiness.

I don't know what I did, what caught me, I got a bit carried away, and at a point

I just had to... Holiness, pity me! Ouch...

Oh, Holiness, thank you for this unforgettable slap.

Let me kiss your hand.

This blessed hand!

Thank you, Holiness, it's unforgettable.

Mastro Demetrius, finally!

I am impatient to see this masterpiece.

This jewel is worthy of your terrible fame, Demetrius.

As it's worthy of the great queen Nanthilde for her birthday.

So wants politics.

Not everyone dies the same day they were born.

Poor daisy!

Take a seat. Majesty, Holy Father.

M.. M... Majesty, here, sit here.

Majesty. Eminence.

Holy Father.

Majesty...

Here, princess.

Quick, Procopius, pull the curtain.

Uncover the mosaic.

What a wonder!

Majesty, you see those three figures? The one with the beard is St. Peter.

You always know it all, eh? Go on!

Go hide yourself!

Holiness, the blessing.

Look, look! - What is it?

Another Pope!

But they're identical.

Who put that mirror? - It's not a mirror.

The one you see here is the only, true Pope Onorius.

And you are nothing but a usurper, Introchius, son of Introchia.

It's the devil! Get him, drive him back to hell.

Stop! - That nobody move, nobody move.

This is the hour of truth.

He whom this man calls devil is in fact the true Onorius.

I'm as sure as it's sure that I'm me.

Dagobert, don't fall into deception, trust who loves you.

You love me, H�m�r�? I find out now, but it's late. - Yes!

She's herself an instrument of this plot. Seize her!

Do not touch me.

Do not heed to who sold himself by weight on the betrayal market!

Ye faithful, guards! He who insults us, insults you too, you and the Church.

Introchius, son of Introchia, petty farcical actor,

clown of the slums,

get ready to recite your last act.

Majesty, remember,

since the start I told you this man did not resemble the Pope,

that it was not the same Pope I had reached for your mandate, no!

It's him our Holy Father.

And this one is the usurper. Cage him in!

Stop, charlatan!

Son of Introchia!

Devil's fart!

Cuckold! Yes, cuckold.

Stinker! - Untangle them.

This impostor tried to strangle me.

It's not true! You're doubly impostor.

So why were you trying to escape? - Me? It was you who fled, seeing yourself lost.

Lost is you, before God and all those you still try to deceive.

Introchius! - No, Introchius is you.

Introchius is you. - Introchius is you! - So!

Monk of my pants and what they hold,

so then, who asked your opinion?

Why did you get in the way?

How do we know the true Pope now, you know-all, nose-in-all? Go on, amaze us!

Majesty, it was the voice of my conscience. - Listen to my voice now.

Run to the river, hug the largest stone you can find and throw yourself in.

Raggedy ass!

Of these two men,

who can tell which is the true, the genuine, the great Pope Onorius?

Me! - And which is the fraudulent?

Him. - Him. - Nobody!

Nobody but me.

The night I met the real Onorius...

in the shelter

where he had found safety from a conspiracy that wanted him dead,

the Pope happened to give me a sacrosanct slap.

The secular arm of the Church! An unforgettable slap.

It still burns me.

So each of the two pretenders will give me a slap,

and I will say which hand is of the true Pope.

Slap! Slap! - Come on, get going!

Please, after you.

Why me? You, you start. - No, no.

Gentlemen, let's not act like children!

Courage! May the best win.

I'm not sure, actually, I'm not sure, it's better to try again.

Go on!

It's already better.

With diligence. Go on!

It's difficult, I assure you, it's difficult.

One more. Can I have another one? Thank you. Harder.

Yes, harder!

One, two, three, go!

Well done!

Ille est! It's him, I recognize him. It's him the true Pope, Pope Onorius!

Applaud him!

Long live the Pope! - Hurray for the Pope!

"The important thing is not to win but to take part".

Death to the impostor! - Cut off his head!

Hang him! - Put him to death!

Habemus Papam!

Kneel!

Why don't you kneel, daughter? - Don't you recognize me, Holy Father?

No. Who are you who dares?

The one who sheltered the true Pope from the killers' dagger.

If it were you, you'd recognize me. It's the false Pope, Introchius!

Don't let him run away, seize the impostor!

Guards, capture him!

Look! The false Pope! Grab the false Pope!

Long live the Pope! - He's the true Pope!

Long live the Pope! - Hurray!

I deserve another slap, eh? - Oh, much, much more, sonny.

All these emotions have stirred my innards. Where are the decencies?

Down to the left.

Thank you.

Excuse me.

Then 1,500 Ave and 1,500 Pater.

Every week, for a total of 3 years.

And again 1,000 Credo, plus the fasts, all Fridays and Sundays.

But my wife's birthday will be on a Sunday.

Alright, for that Sunday you're dispensed.

But only that Sunday.

But why invite me to lunch if I'm in penitence?

Because today is not Friday, or even less Sunday.

No, no, this is too much!

You want to spoil me, Holiness.

What delicacy is hidden there under?

Dagobert...

watch out for your own head.

Help!

The dead man has spoken!

As to you...

we'll meet again in hell.

Introchius!

Introchius? He had said Introchius.

Was that the last flicker of the impostor,

or a new undecipherable truth?

Dagoben set out for his lands, torn by passions and doubts.

Majesty!

Majesty.

Cooked rare.

Thank you.

Want any?

Lucky the peoples who have no history.

My eyesore, if you knew how the king's crown weighs on the head!

And what storms ravage the heart and soul of him who wears it!

Coveted by all, it seems to say: 'You're alone.'

I would like to be alone, but with that on my head.

Here you go, shorty. Happy?

Otarius!

At what point are you with my prayers? - So far, majesty,

I have recited 780 Ave,

812 Pater and 680 Credo, which are the longest.

And you're sure that, if I'm not the one praying,

the effect will be the same on my soul's future?

Sure, for I think the devotion I have for my king

is superior to that the king has for himself.

Ah, good.

Well, why not prove this devotion on the spot,

fulfilling a mission that would please me?

Consider it already accomplished.

So, go to the princess,

and tell her that if she were favorably inclined to meet me,

one could find some advantages to her daily life,

among which her immediate deliverance.

I'm not sure I... - That I burn with lust for her day and night!

I've lost my sleep!

So tell her that if she gives herself to me from head to toe,

I'll return her to her father, covered in gold. So, you go or not?

Yes, I go, I run, majesty. I run!

Aren't you eating, dwarf?

Majesty, on Friday and Sunday I fast, in your place. - Oh, right!

I had forgotten.

Princess.

What do you want, monk?

I need no confession. - It's me who comes to confess.

My admiration and respect for you and your father.

Is it Dagobert who's sending you? - No.

Why are you here, then?

One can be a good subject in a thousand ways, my princess,

even not sharing the excesses of a king. Whom I venerate, however.

These were very painful days for a woman of royal blood.

And humiliating.

He takes his revenge, princess.

Don't forget he's half barbarian.

What would your king do if I revealed to him a mortal danger

that concerns him very closely, and that he could foil?

Princess...

I am a poor monk without ambitions nor yearnings for power,

and the king knows my loyalty, and gives me full confidence.

Talk about it.

I know there's a gift, a magnificent brooch,

intended for the Queen of the Franks for her anniversary. - Well?

Merely touching it,

in its dazzling splendor,

means death.

Oh my God!

By saving the queen,

you'd get from the king indulgence for me.

Otarius... Free me from these chains,

and I will show you how I can be grateful.

Don'1t forget what you promised, Princess. I will not forget it.

Do not forget it.

So, yes or no? - Majesty, it's no.

Damn her! You know what I answer? Get this, Princess.

Hey, we go! On horseback, slackers! I'll make your asses black!

Hurray! Our king is back!

Hurray!

Hello!

Hello, my queen, I'm happy to see you again.

After two years, finally home.

You could have written at least once!

You have not received? - No.

Dagobert!

Me first!

What a bad temper! I had forgotten it.

This beautiful baby tiger is the gift of Prince Rasshan.

It seems the whole world

wants to honor the blessed day of the birth of the queen.

The whole world, you say.

See here the gifts of Judicael, duke of the Bretons,

of Mathilde of Noistria, of Rhomarich, burgomaster of Puis,

and of many others. But, please forgive my frankness,

I do not see your gift, Dagobert.

Oh, but...

It's incredible! And yet I had ordered...

But why don't the words of a king ever find ears?

Of course yes, majesty. As palace headmaster, I've personally...

In truth there is a cadeau that... whose provenance I don't know.

It's without a name. - There it is. - It's mine.

You see? I wanted the surprise to be even more surprising.

Majesty, forgive me, I should have imagined.

Never seen an example of jewelry so perfect. It's a masterpiece.

Sire, pin it yourself. - My king.

Thank you. - I'll do it.

You pricked yourself, Dagobert? - Nothing.

It's nothing.

Here is the gift of Queen Brunilde. A set for 120 people.

Wow! - A meal for a few friends. - Hush!

What's this? - It's the gift of Judicael, duke of the Bretons.

It's a heavy present!

His past is more. He had his father, lover and cook cut off their head.

He did well!

Oh, my God! Majesty! - Help the king! - Dagobert!

Quick, help him. Raise him up. - A doctor! - Move him!

To his room. - A doctor.

Quick, on the bed.

On the bed!

Slowly.

There you go, I brought the cure-all: hare feces and lizard blood.

It is not his body that needs care, but his soul, the psyche!

Well, just in case... - Go, disappear... charlatans.

I want to talk to the bishop, while my tongue can still move.

I feel...

I feel the devil prowling around me.

The fetid goat observes me.

But why does one die?

God... answer.

You say nothing?

As usual!

Eloi!

Why doesn't the Lord answer me?

Where is he?

God is God because he does not show himself.

Are we sure? - Absolutely.

Many among the subjects of your realm

have never seen you, majesty, and yet,

they know that you are the king, that you exist.

That is the faith.

Thanks, Otarius.

You're good.

I ask your forgiveness...

for the wickedness with which I have always treated you,

and for the abuses that you've often had to...

you've had to undergo.

You... so devoted... - Oh...

and loyal. - Majesty...

Do not cry.

Yes, I've loved women, their skin,

their kisses...

their caresses...

Crodielda, Ragnitrude... Eglentina, H�m�r�...

I love you.

Hearts and asses, I love you.

Nanthilde... but yes, you too.

The king cannot die like the ordinary mortals rushing here

from across the country. We can't allow it.

The people of the Franks must acknowledge in their sovereign a saint. - Yes.

Gontrano, we have in mind to do something for our king.

Send quickly for Agigulfo, the carpenter. - I'm going.

I understood.

What, Dagobert?

The spirit of the forest.

We must love trees,

our brothers.

Things had gone as Otarius' conscience had predicted.

For three days and three nights, the good king Dagobert

was exposed to the adoration of his subjects.

The monk Otarius threw his cassock to the nettles,

which seem to exist only for this.

He stopped serving God, who could do without him,

and he humbly placed himself at the service of his people.

He eliminated Queen Nanthilde on the infamous accusation...

She's the one who poisoned him to seize power! It is she!

Guards, imprison her! - It's little!

By popular acclaim, he replaced Nanthilde with the beautiful H�m�r�.

Daughter of Heraclius, emperor of Byzantium.

She will be my bride. - Long live H�m�r�!

Once made her a queen and his bride,

he became, with little respect for historical truth, king of France.

The good king Dagobert did not, all things considered, have a bad end.

Miracle!

Miracle!

Thanks to the good offices of the Church,

and to solid ropes...

It's heavy, this king!

he was raised into heaven and revered for centuries as a saint.

This too,

as many stories of History, ends up in Glory.

The powerful wins,

and the people, grateful, bows.

English subtitles by edam@cinematik December 2018