All language subtitles for Nicolas.Le.Floch.S04E01.The.Rogues.Banquet.Part.1.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

THE ROGUE'S BANQUET

Stop being childish, miss.

I command you to get back
in the carriage,

as befits a person
of your standing.

I want you to marry,
and so it will be!

You want me to be sold, you mean!

To a pimp as rich as he is ugly.

Who do you think you are?

Who gives you the right
to question my authority?

Clémence de Villerbois de Martence,

daughter of
Louis-Charles de Villerbois,

a penniless Marquis and
risky speculator, down on his luck.

Clémence! Come back! Clémence!

Go! Go! Faster!

Slow down!

Help! Help!

Slower! Slower!

Careful! Careful!

Well madam,
you nearly broke some bones there.

Considering my fate, breaking bones
is the least of my worries.

Whatever the gravity, nothing
betrays your most admirable self.

But sir... who are you?

Signor Giaccomo Petracci,

descended from
the nobility of Sienna.

Do you ride alone
on such an unsafe road?

I'm not alone, my father
is following in a coach.

Oh Lord, Oh Lord!

Come quickly.

Let's go!

Stay here, madam.
I don't want you to get hurt.

- Have mercy.
- Your coffer, good sir.

- My coffer, jewels, never!
- Then prepare to meet your fate!

No one is going to meet their fate.

- I'll buy her free.
- And if you can't?

- You're dead.
- Dead? As you'll be.

If I want your gold,
I'll take it from your dead body.

Don't forget,
there are more of us.

I never forget anything.

Run for your lives!

Well sir,

it seems I owe you my life.

So it would seem.

It would also seem
that you are rather presumptuous

in thinking you could stop
such a gang alone.

It's in the blood of my veins...

and that of my ancestors.

As well as an ardent desire
to oblige a young lady.

- My father! Where is my father?
- Miss!

There is an old man in the coach,

clutching a coffer
he refuses to let go of.

- Perhaps he is your father?
- Drunkard! Dog!

- Pig!
- An old rascal from Spain.

I understand the language.

Bastard! Dog!

Curse you murderer!

A happy coincidence.
Is it Castilian?

Curse The Claw!

- May God damn you to Hell.
- Well?

He speaks of a criminal
they call "The Claw".

- Oh really?
- The Claw is a bandit.

He's guided a band of men
on a rampage.

God made him as brilliant
as he is cruel,

- utterly lacking in...
- We know who The Claw is!

Bastard! Animal!

If we believe him, that's The Claw,
the one you killed so rapidly.

The Claw, you say?

So it would seem.

That ruffian! That hooligan!

This obstinate crook,
that all the police in Europe,

including those of Pierre Vidalbur,

have fought over,

killed on the road to Pithiviers
by the hand of my police?

My police! Mine! My own police!

The King's police, Sir.

My own!

Testis unus, testis nullus.

One witness is no witness.

I know Latin as well as you do,

young and impertinent Jesuit.
For me...

- My convictions are set.
- We've no formal proof.

To hell with your formalities!

Where do your prejudices come from?

A piece of information from you
whose source I don't care about.

A masterful operation.
Oh yes, I insist.

Masterful.

Yes?

Mr de Villerbois.

You, whose impeccable lineage
cannot be ignored,

nor your selflessness,

nor the privileged position
you hold with Mr de St Florentin,

Minister of the King.

I assume that the actions

of this bright young policeman,

will be given him the honour
they deserve! The Claw is dead!

By the way, was there a reward
for his capture?

- Not that I know of.
- Good, we would have had to pay.

Mr de Villerbois,
I am counting on your diplomacy.

That Petracci
who came to our rescue, is he...

is he wealthy?

Nicolas?

Based on his appearance,
how he dresses,

the weapons he uses,
the horse he rides,

the gold with which
he hoped to guarantee your life,

his wealth
seems guaranteed indeed.

I would have liked to have thanked
him before I returned.

Take Mr de Villerbois to see
this Petracci this instant!

And send me a messenger to deliver
my report to the King immediately.

A splendid blade you have there.

Do you want a go?

Signor, signor.

Thank you for saving
my only treasure in this world,

my only daughter,

- whom I cherish above all.
- I've not done much for her.

Not much? How modest of you!

All credit goes to Le Floch.

No matter, Signor, I'd like you
to be my guest this evening

at the house of my daughter
and myself.

- I don't want to take advantage.
- Go ahead, signor, don't worry.

I'll not forget
I'm indebted to you for my life.

You seem troubled, Nicolas.

You seem agitated
by a strange intuition.

You have taken advantage of me, madam.

Would the opposite
be more satisfying?

When, I ask you?

When you set me
on the road to Pithiviers.

What then?
Was the information... flawed?

- Not at all.
- The gang was not where I said?

- The crossing at Croix de Samois?
- Yes.

But why didn't you warn me
that it was The Claw's gang?

- The Claw?
- Didn't you know that?

No, I didn't know.

Or I'd have hesitated
to tell you.

Is the man really so formidable
that you fear him...

- even more than you fear me?
- No, not at all.

Is he dead?

Supposedly.

He came to see you often,
didn't he?

If he had tried he would have
been turned away immediately.

I know you think
my position is precarious,

but I wouldn't risk it
by assisting such a criminal.

Above all else your sense of
opportunism wins my admiration.

Indeed.

Which of your girls
received the tip-off you gave me?

Amélie. A novice, so to speak.

- Come madam, you and your novice.
- Where to?

It doesn't matter,
we're going together.

- Where did this citizen come from?
- From the Seine.

Found naked at dawn in the nets
at Pont-Marie. Do you know him?

No, not well enough
to know his name.

So many people passed through
the "Crowned Prince".

His face isn't necessarily
the first thing I'd recognise...

I have lots to do in the house
right now.

Could someone escort me back?

He has a lovely,
classic look, though.

But he lacks a certain nobility.

What can you tell me
about him miss?

I can tell you, sir,
that you have been lied to.

Do go on.

It's certainly the man,
who, whilst in the act,

spoke with one of his pals about
the business of la Croix de Samois.

However, you have been fooled sir.

I don't know who The Claw is but
I can tell you it's not this man.

He's one of my clients.

How can you be sure
if you don't know The Claw?

Because I...

I know he was called
Gaspard le Viel, aka Tricotin.

He claimed to be a meat wholesaler.

But...

But?

That's all.

- That's all.
- That's all.

The Claw is not The Claw.

Or at least
he's not the man we thought he was.

Some sort of trick.

What's the motive?

Do you suspect
Signor Giaccomo Petracci?

Something fishy about him,
don't you think?

His documents
seem to be in order.

His fast confirmation
of his identity made me suspicious.

A lord needn't prove his identity,
his arrogance is enough.

Do you like that?

But what are you doing?

Are you mocking me, my dear?

You've suddenly gone crazy?

I welcomed you and your brother
out of sympathy.

However my compassion has limits.
Do you know where to find him?

- Your brother, do you know?
- I know.

Go and fetch him this instant.
Tell him I must speak to him.

This instant!

Go on! Quickly!

- Where am I in all this?
- Straighten up and get out.

It won't be a big loss.

My establishment doesn't leave
its clientele in such a state.

Give it to me, sir,

so I can satisfy you

and myself at the same time.

Sir,

do you not think
you might have lost your way?

On the contrary, my love,
I'm back on the right path.

Between my knees?

Your knees!

It's been ages since their
frail defences were swept away.

We're no longer at your knees.

Oh signor!

I fear that you won't reach
your wedding day intact.

It's just that...
in his inescapable foolishness,

my father didn't stipulate

in which state
he wanted to deliver me.

- What are you saying?
- Let's go to my room.

I ask myself

what is stopping me
from stabbing you just like this.

Perhaps it's the presence
of this other soul

by my side.

How did you find me?

The coachman, my friend.

Mr de Villerbois' coachman

was very obliging in showing me
where his master would be.

Right now, the coachman
is on our side.

One of your most recent conquests.

Conquests, yes.

That's the right word.

She wasn't wilful,
but she did make an impression.

Both by her temperament
and her total lack

of the slightest decency.

And you, madam?

- What can I do for you?
- Nothing for me.

Madam, on the other hand,

is furious
and wants to see you right away.

No! I took you in out of kindness.

Which has been profitable for you.

That's enough! You are impudent.

You satisfied me as much as
I satisfied you. We're even.

Only the most noble,
most selfless sympathy

inclined me
to tolerate you in my house.

- If you call this tolerance...
- This is all very cosy.

This one uses her charms,

and the other
certainly uses his tricks.

- It doesn't matter.
- So..?

You were seen leaving arm in arm,

with this gilded client
who went by Petracci.

For...

what seem to be
midnight encounters, for three.

Imagine my astonishment

on discovering the man's body,
stark naked,

on the mortician's slab
at the Châtelet.

Could it raise suspicions?

I don't think so. Someone else
could come and recognise the man.

I don't want
to be convicted of complicity.

At the top of the hour
you are to leave.

I don't want
to see you here again.

- You cast us out?
- Yes.

Do you at least know
whom you are casting out?

My name is Jacques Dorcy,

formerly of the King's gunners.

Spawn of a whore and the Devil.

Better known as The Claw!

Here you are,
living up to your role.

Vile slut.

I want Suzon to keep her position.
It's a useful lookout.

As for Petracci,

have no fear.

This one.

Come on, let's go.

Who goes there?

Halt!

Sir, I fear we need to scarper.

Without a doubt, the good influence
of celestial intervention

has put Catherine
in a very good mood this morning.

She brought me
two pieces of milk bread,

and a most creamy cup of chocolate.

If it isn't Capua, at least
it's closer to Byzantine.

Speaking of Capua,

sorry for changing the subject...

As royal attorney, you are allowed
to get involved in foreign affairs.

Would you happen to know...

or have cause
to inquire about a certain

Giaccomo Petracci?

Petracci?

This name is not unknown to me.

It seems I can put
a face to that name.

And do you remember

if he had a scar
beneath his right eye?

- Not that I remember, but he ...
- Nicolas!

Go see the Lieutenant General,
right away.

Take a seat.

What kind of mood is he in?

He's like a rabid dog!
A dog, I tell you.

A rabid dog
that's just escaped an arrow,

and been on its high horse since.

Thank you, Catherine.

May I?

Please!

Open the door young lady!

Open the door!
I want to talk to you, right now!

Take me away, I cannot stay another
instant in this whore house!

Open up right now!

Or I'll force my way in!

Take me away, I beg of you.

Open up!

Be reasonable my girl!

For the last time, open up!

You'll be sorry!

Oh my!

Off we go!

You are living it up, Nicolas.

While last night, behind your back,

someone intruded in this house.

I didn't know
you were a Châtelet guard.

They intruded via the mortuary.

A little troop turned up.
They left two officers behind.

The thieves were happy to retreat,
abandoning their spoil there.

- And what was stolen?
- A body.

A body, lifeless,
pulled from the water.

Taken by the kidnapper in the buff.
Does that mean anything to you?

I'm waiting.

I don't know, La Paulet
stopped in front of a body.

Her roundabout way of talking
makes me think she knew him.

Nothing out of the ordinary
for a brothel keeper.

Is this him?

Yes.

What can you tell us?

The body shows us the marks
of an old wound which suggests

a history as
a swashbuckler or a soldier.

However,
he was stabbed in the ear.

The wound isn't very visible,
but it's very deep.

A metallic tip,
like a large needle or a pen.

Your man really was murdered.

Why did they take
the clothes off the body?

I won't be able
to tell you any more

until I carry out the post-mortem,

which will undoubtedly confirm
the initial examination.

Thanks!

Doesn't staying in the water cause
rapid decomposition of the flesh?

Certainly.

Would it be possible
to preserve his face?

By making a mask?

Kidnapped, you say?

By Signor Petracci,
whom you yourself recommended.

Me? Could it be so?

Not content only to have eaten
and drunk so much at my table,

he then went down on his knees
for Miss de Villerbois.

He took hold of her by brute force

and brought her out
through the window.

By brute force?

Sir, the drowned man was murdered.

I have to tell you
about another type of crime

Sir, this anonymous victim
deserves our best attention.

Mr Commissioner, your friend
Petracci seems to have misbehaved.

My friend, Petracci?

The noble and virginal young girl,

a woman of noble birth,

was kidnapped by that fop.

Go to the house of Mr de Villerbois immediately,

to proceed in his presence
to the inevitable conclusions.

Mr de Villerbois, my police and I
are at your disposal.

Alas, I haven't the time.

Sir...

This document is the one he used
to prove his identity and status.

"The Claw".

Your misgivings were well-founded.

The man came through the door
as Petracci,

and left through the window
as The Claw.

A laudable approach.

No sign of a struggle.

No sign of violence.

It seems...
that the other lover consented.

Based on what I know of The Claw,

this ordeal will cost you dearly.

Cost me?

This coffer that you clung onto
on the road to Pithiviers...

I'm sure
it will soon be reclaimed from you.

And if necessary,
with sword in hand.

- A token from the brothel?
- Yes.

I just found it
in young Clémence's room.

I doubt it belongs to her.

The stakes must be high
for La Paulet to dare try my wrath.

Disguise a few officers
and place them around the brothel

so that Mrs Paulet and her novice
Amélie cannot escape our vigilance.

Mr Marquis, a ticket for you.

The Lieutenant General of Police
told me where you'd be.

He must be of noble circumstances
if Mr de Sartine is so aiding him.

That is indeed the case.

Return to Châtelet and take care of
the "Crowned Prince".

I'll fulfil my obligations
and do the same.

I present to you the Countess
Olympe de Beauvoises.

Made by nature an early widow,
and now the Canoness of Meudon,

by the grace of our good King.

What can I do for you, madam?

I would like to request the advice
of the Marquis de Ranreuil,

to find out what's become
of someone dear to me.

Who is the man in question?

A certain Jacques Torcy.

Better known
by the name "The Claw".

Former pupil in St Brieux,
where, fleeing through the window,

he left nothing but a girl
longing for his incredible beauty,

and his great piety.

The precision and quality
of his voice.

In other words, if it's true,

according to the rumours
spreading around town,

The Claw met a romantic death yesterday,

while leading an attack on a coach

on the road to Pithiviers.

I can't deny this, madam.

Dead by your hand, as they tell us?

I hadn't any other choice, madam.

You know me as the organiser
of the King's entertainment.

Accordingly, it fell upon me

to organise
a private, armed duel

between Signor Faldoni,

known as a talented fencer
and a famous master of weaponry

and Joseph Bologne,
knight of St Georges.

Europe's most famous fencer,

athlete of merit
and also a brilliant musician.

He is a mulatto.

If this date were to be cancelled,

- this duel will not be known.
- It should be held in secret.

The armed duel
is accompanied by bets.

Very high sums.

If the King wins or loses,
the frenzy is the same.

This time,
he's thrown himself into it.

His gamble is sure
to put a dent in royal finances

if his champion is defeated.

A scandal,

should it become known.

Versailles is not safe,
Mr Lieutenant General of Police.

It is home to one of the largest
quantities of gold ever held.

I would therefore like you
to make certain arrangements.

Mr de Ranreuil.

Come and I'll show you my champion,

the young and talented
Joseph Bologne,

knight of St George,

a recent equerry of my house.

I hope he will do me the honour
of winning the duel.

I confess to having
a decent sum on his head.

It'd cost me more to lose him
than a regiment.

Isn't it true you'll win,
my friend?

By the grace of God,
your Majesty, it is guaranteed.

God? Fiddlesticks!

Concerning games, d'Horaut
doesn't seem a strong player.

Do like I do,
and count on yourself.

And leave God for everyone else.

I ought to chide you.

You have strongly displeased
a good friend of the Queen.

And the Queen herself, too.

Strongly displeased.
She saw fit to open up to me.

Who might I have offended?

The beautiful
Countess Olympe de Beauvoises,

Canoness of Meudon.

And how have I offended her?

By telling her
about the distressing circumstances

of the disappearance
of our new friend,

Mr Claw.

Our Canoness is deeply
and secretly infatuated with him.

A little tact and restraint
wouldn't hurt, Mr Marquis.

Let's go, the case is closed.

If I lash out at you it is only
because I am entrusting you

with a very important mission.

It must remain secret.

You haven't gone to bed,
Catherine?

A man, in charge of executions,

Sanson, just came to leave
this basket for you.

He said it was an emergency.

Oh Nicolas!
If you knew, if you only knew...

- If I knew what, Catherine?
- Shortly before supper,

Mr de Noblecourt went out,
and at his age...

He said he'd only be out a minute

and I haven't seen him since.

I fear the worst.

You need to help him!
Nicolas, you must help him!

I will help him, but where is he?

In a place
decency forbids me to name.

That's enough, young Cerberus.

No mocking
or disapproving looks, now.

Before you ever were, I was,

I am, and I always will be.

I don't doubt it sir,
based on what I can see.

Flambert-Jouvent!
Fancy a sip of champagne?

- I must decline.
- Give him something to drink.

You saucy girl,
worth much money indeed!

Mr de Noblecourt turned up
to ask about a certain Petracci

who he knew had become accustomed
to houses of pleasure,

the Crowned Prince in particular.

But I was unaware, Mr Commissioner,

that you have others
do your dirty work.

Perhaps it would have been quicker
for you to ask me yourself.

What do you know
about Petracci, madam?

He's a hedonist, a Monte-player
and a libertine.

Said to be one of the most nimble
blades on the peninsula.

Other than that, very rich,

and lavished with gold.

You should know the rest.
As for me, that's all I know.

Any more fibs
could land you behind bars.

I can't know what I don't know.

Alcohol, no doubt.

No sooner than the horse
is let loose, will it gallop away,

leaving the rider in the ditch.

Well my young friend, I think it
only remains to return home,

to where our Lares gods dwell.

Sir, there's no rush.

- Champagne!
- Champagne!

For everyone.

There's still a light on up there.

Dressed up as the Lares gods,

I fear some haggard witches
are doggedly awaiting you.

My ears are ringing already!

If you can find
some absolving circumstances...

a robust set
of extenuating circumstances,

which could lighten the outcome
as well as the sentence.

Alas, I fear
that we're in for the same fate.

Let's go.

It was work-related.

A security mission...

- for his Majesty's Kingdom.
- It must have been his Majesty

who buttoned your coat back up
the wrong way

and made your shirt
stick out of your breeches!

Get to bed, you rascal!

And if you haven't already done it,
think about having a bath.

In this house,
one takes the good with the bad.

So Nicolas...

what is in this mysterious object
you are carrying?

I will show you.

Petracci!

Signor Petracci!
What's he doing there?

Petracci?

Yes, Petracci.

Yes, Petracci.

Why yes!

Good night, signor!

Who's that? Who's that then?

It would seem it is the face
of a man killed by The Claw.

The drowned man at Pont-Marie.

A man whose identity
he immediately borrowed.

- One Giaccomo Petracci.
- The Claw is alive?

You need to realise,
Mr Commissioner...

I'll seem ridiculous.
I announced his death to the King.

It was based on premature evidence, sir.

I would ask you to remember

that it was due to my sources,
that is, yourself,

that I announced something
that wasn't true.

We will have to account for this.

Giaccomo...

My friend, Petracci.

He would always go ahead
to where I was meant to fight.

He was dear to me.

Signor Faldoni,
celebrated master of weaponry.

I allowed myself
to enlighten Diogène

about a few things
on the way here.

Matters of this affair
in which you're involved.

Could it be

that he learned some secrets
from Petracci before killing him?

The Claw seems aware of the duel
and bets organised by the King.

It's not proven,
but we can't rule it out.

Put an end to The Claw's exploits.

End them swiftly
using any means.

Not so much for his misdeeds,

which are altogether ordinary,

as for any secrets

that he might inadvertently hold.

But perhaps it would be good

if a price were placed on his head.

It's not your place
to suggest that, Nicolas.

So... a hundred pounds?

A thousand?

Clearly you wouldn't
be the one paying.

Did you hurt yourself?

The Claw wants to see you.

Welcome, sirs!

There we are.

He recognised you!

A kiss for you my love!

Leave us.

Once a year, the Parisian
underworld gathers for a banquet.

Thieves, gamblers,

looters and murderers,

girls of high and low descent,
lots of beggars and cripples.

The meat is excellent.

We serve the best wines.

And here is proof
of its finest effects.

Shame my being a policeman
stops me coming more often.

That's why I am delighted
you didn't resist my invitation.

Here you go.

Your audacity seems
to know no limits.

Kidnapping a King's man
is treason.

I'm not unaware of the price.

Are you talking about the wheel?

A bad moment.
Others have gone through the same.

And no one's complained.

I know you, miss.

You seemed less immodest...

and more chaste.

But you didn't know me at all.

Only my lord knew me,
every part of me.

Again and again.

Are you not promised to someone,
a certain Dubuc, miss?

Born in Pithiviers?

Damn the promises of men, sir.

Nature satisfied me and no other
spouse but this one will ever do.

Why did you invite me?

Well firstly, for pleasure.

Secondly because by killing
the affable Tricotin

you've rid me of a second imbecile
whom I'd have had to kill myself.

And finally because I want you
to tell the damsel's father

that she demands her dowry,

that is,
the jewels of her late mother.

Otherwise, The Claw
will search for them himself.

Right to the bottom
of Mr de Villerbois' coffer.

Let's go have fun...

My ladies!

My daughter was taken prisoner.

Alas, yes, sir.

The criminal wants you
to give him his dowry.

If you do not consent,
it would actually help me.

The Claw will be obliged
to come get them himself.

He'd fall into our trap.

Isn't there a reward
for his capture?

A re... Ah, of course!

A reward?

You could claim the reward
for facilitating his capture.

I won't do it! That's it.

I won't do it!

- Very well, sir.
- No, no, no. Never!

Cunning
with all the qualities of a pimp.

But his faults will work
for our good.

I was unaware of the reward
for The Claw's capture.

Around the Hotel Villerbois,
I want to set up a mesh trap

so tight
that not even a wasp can escape.

Question Mrs Paulet
and her novice Amélie.

- Is it that serious?
- Yes.

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