Episode 7 Versailles

This programme contains some scenes of a sexual nature.

Something amuses you?

Yes.

To see my one true enemy face to face after all these years.

Ever since I was a child, I dreamt of meeting you.

And beating me on the field of battle?

Of course.

I suppose I should congratulate you.

For defeating you?

For protecting Amsterdam.

I call it a resounding victory.

I call it a temporary setback.

Why did you come here this evening?

I have certain matters to discuss.

Why not follow the usual protocol -

diplomats, ambassadors,

emissaries, offers,

counter-offers, secret messages?

I know how diplomacy works.

As do I. I invented it.

If you mean you invented the art of deceit and subterfuge,

then I can hardly argue.

Give me one good reason why I should not have you killed.

Because you do not wish me dead.

-I don't?

-No.

Without an enemy, you would have no purpose -

a gust of wind with nothing to blow against.

If you are here to discuss the terms of a truce,

then I fear I must dismiss them as I did last time.

You are now playing with a much weaker hand.

I took 40 towns in 22 days.

But not the prize, Amsterdam.

You are fighting on two fronts,

your troops are exhausted,

you're unable to advance, you're running out of supplies

and half of Europe is joining an alliance against you.

I too have allies.

You have Sweden.

And England.

Half of whose fleet lies at the bottom of the ocean.

I have Spain, Prussia and the Holy Roman Empire behind me.

Why did you come here?

To make a proposition.

What sort of proposition?

If we are to continue these discussions,

then I insist we do so in private.

As you wish.

No. It's all right.

I shall call for you if required.

Course, sir.

DOOR SLAMS

-About this proposition...

-Shh-shh-shh-shh.

Do you hear it?

The silence that accompanies power.

I hear nothing.

Tell me about your proposition.

I propose an alliance.

With me?

Why not?

Why?

Because we are the leaders

of the two most powerful countries in Europe.

Instead of squabbling here, why do we not join forces,

take over the rest of the world?

And you have discussed this arrangement

with your existing allies?

Of course not.

I call that treachery.

-Tactics.

-Greed.

Are you interested in my offer or not?

Let me tell you what happens next.

You are feeling confident.

You will launch a counterattack, perhaps even retake a few towns.

My forces will then rally and you will start to lose.

Thousands will be massacred.

Your people will start to question their new leader.

And you will have sleepless nights.

"Did I do the right thing?

"Will I meet the same end as poor de Witt?

"Have I led my country to ruin?"

And at that moment, you will send a messenger begging for a truce.

And I shall say no.

I shall brush you off like a speck of dirt from my cuff.

You underestimate the value of allies,

not just in one's ranks.

How else do you suppose I found you?

# I'm the King of my own land

# Facing tempests of dust

# I'll fight to the end

# Creatures of my dreams raise up and dance with me

# Now and forever

# I'm your King. #

She will find peace in God.

I am so sorry for your loss.

I wish I could have done more to help her.

You did nothing to help her.

You know as well as I do

that it was her fault the poor girl died.

She drove her into depravity.

Quite possibly, Your Majesty, but that does not make her a murderer.

And in the absence of concrete evidence or a witness...

By the time the King returns,

I want her out of the palace and I don't care how.

And in the meantime you will give orders for the salons to be closed

and all nobles to be confined to their rooms.

As you see fit, Your Majesty.

All I'm saying is that I did something for you and

it's only natural that you now do something for me.

Quid pro...

..quo.

I have a husband.

Whom you are slowly sending to his death.

What exactly is it that you want?

That will not be possible.

You do realise that if it became known that you were

-poisoning your husband...

-Shh!

-..your position here would become...

How can I put this?

..invidious.

And I would point the finger at you.

Your word against mine.

Well, I believe my word holds a lot more weight than yours right now.

Shall we put it to the test?

Ladies and gentlemen!

By order of Her Majesty the Queen,

the salons are now closed to all.

You are advised to retire to your rooms.

GROANING

Goodnight.

What shall we toast?

Will you not share a glass of wine with me?

I prefer to see the world as it is.

Very well.

I shall join you in abstinence, but it is with wine's tonic

that we see the world of our dreams, is it not?

I can end life.

I can give life.

I bring truth.

I bring lies. I am heard but not seen.

Who am I?

It's a riddle.

Are you toying with me?

No, merely trying to lighten the mood.

Why did you refuse an alliance?

Because alliances are based on trust.

Ah, you do not trust me.

You are in the process of betraying your current allies.

What is there to say you wouldn't do the same to me?

Are you wondering what I'm wondering?

Yes. How did they find us?

The minister seems preoccupied. Perhaps we should humour him.

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

Is something bothering you, Excellency?

Perhaps you fear your master's negotiating half of Holland away.

The puppy is off his leash.

Who knows what havoc he may wreak?

I don't know you.

Are you a soldier?

A diplomat?

Just a humble wordsmith.

He is here to write the chronicle of the war for future generations.

Heavily embroidered, no doubt.

On the contrary. Truth is my beacon.

Though quite how I shall describe you I do not know.

Indeed?

The embroidered version would read as follows -

"A tall man of noble bearing

"with a majestic command of the art of diplomacy."

The true version would read more along the lines of -

"A pompous and humourless fellow with a high regard of

"his own importance and a low regard for his master's abilities."

Perhaps you would prefer the embroidered version.

Is this young man always so impertinent?

Tell me, how does it feel to have betrayed the man

who brought you up as his son?

To whom are you referring?

Jean de Witt,

as you know perfectly well.

He gave you protection, education, affection.

He also stood in between me and my inheritance.

I wouldn't want to be lynched, would you?

It was the will of the people.

What do you care for the will of the people?

Hm? Nothing.

And you would know all about that.

The people do not know what they want.

They are well-meaning but they are ignorant.

I protect them,

and give them a country and a history to be proud of.

You are a tyrant.

An enlightened tyrant.

I understand poor de Witt was lynched before being beheaded,

that his fingers and toes were chopped off

and some parts of his body were eaten by the mob,

and you did nothing to stop them.

Had I been informed as to what was going on, I would have intervened.

First you flood the dykes, depriving your people of the harvest

and driving them towards famine,

and then you murder your former protector.

-He was killed by his people.

-But you are the guilty party.

Hold your tongue!

It's odd.

You HAD a reputation for reserve and self-control.

You will now have a reputation for being a cowardly dog.

Arrived with his tail in the air,

left with it hanging between his legs.

The first rule of diplomacy, my friend -

never show anger.

Monsieur Colbert tells me he entrusted his niece to you.

She was your responsibility.

Less than two days later, she was dead.

I did my best, Your Majesty.

She insisted she wanted to discover all the delights of Versailles,

I couldn't stop her.

You promised to look after her!

It is not my fault if she chose to drink her weight in wine

and take a swim in the fountain.

A safe pair of hands, you said!

Everyone knows I am not a safe pair of hands!

You should never have brought her to Versailles.

What was Madame de Montespan's role in the course of the evening?

Perhaps she tried to corrupt her,

encouraged her to drink or indulge in sexual activity.

And drown herself, Your Majesty?

This is not a time for levity.

I apologise.

I believe Her Majesty is encouraging me to say that Madame de Montespan

is responsible for Isabelle's death.

Only if that is what happened.

In return for your honesty,

I'm sure we could find a way of improving your financial position.

I fear I am unable to help you with your enquiries, Your Majesty.

Very well. You're dismissed.

And incidentally, your little trade in silks -

should you wish to continue it,

I suggest you do so in the marketplace.

Grubby commerce has no place here.

Tomorrow morning I wish to question all those who went

to the fountains with Isabelle.

In the meantime, go and find Monsieur Marchal.

Monsieur Marchal is no longer in the service of the King, Your Majesty.

That does not prevent him from being in the service of the Queen.

I'm counting on you.

You put me in an awkward position. She has offered me her friendship.

Simply as a means to drive a wedge between us.

I think you exaggerate the threat.

You do not know her as I do.

Can you blame her for being jealous of you?

You stole the King from her.

No.

I took what she had already lost and that is what torments her.

Do you have feelings for him?

For the King?

Yes.

I came here to please you,

I remained at court to please the King -

that does not mean I have feelings for him.

Please stop trying to bend me to your will.

Do you have feelings for him?

I am a widow many years older than His Majesty.

Why would he even look at me?

You still didn't answer my question.

I am first and foremost your friend.

And always will be.

(Ah!)

What on earth is this?

Oh, that.

What does it look like?

Well, I'm not an expert in Catholic iconography,

but it looks to me like the statue of Virgin Mary.

Yes, it is.

It is.

And what is it doing in our bed?

I thought it would bring us luck.

Help me conceive, you mean.

Ow!

Precisely.

Sounds like a silly superstition to me.

But even if it is true, you still have to,

you know, do it.

And as you know, that is easier said than done.

You managed it before.

True.

Look...

..I know this is not easy for you.

You are in bed with a woman you do not care for.

But it's not easy for me either.

I am in a country I do not know with people I do not know

and customs I do not understand.

I'm in bed with a man who does not love me and who never will love me.

It's not my fault that I don't love you.

Love is not this thing that you can just summon.

And it's not my fault I'm upset.

The fact is we are both here against our wishes.

We need to make the best of a bad job.

You are a good person.

I'm not.

I'm selfish.

Childish.

You should like yourself a bit more.

There's a lot to like, believe me.

And I've been thinking about your problem.

My problem?

The rabbit that stays underground.

I have no idea what you're talking about.

The volcano that remains dormant.

My inability to have an erection?

Yes.

I think you should use your imagination.

Close your eyes so you can't see me.

HE SIGHS

Think of someone, something...

..that arouses you.

Indulge your wildest fantasies.

Think of...

..sweaty soldiers on the battlefield.

AMOROUS MOANING

SHE PANTS

In a word, bravo.

Anything to oblige.

SHE CHUCKLES

So, the fantasy worked.

What did you think of? A soldier covered in mud?

Several, as a matter of fact.

Imagination is so much more fun than reality, isn't it?

Something's bothering you.

It's a wide rift, isn't it?

Where?

Between the world as we want it to be...

..and the world as it is.

Did I mention Maastricht?

Impossible. I offer Orsoy in its place.

The small town on the Rhine with a population of 500

boasting a church, two taverns and a linen factory?

-Yes.

-I took it three days ago. No, I want Maastricht.

Bonn.

Maastricht.

It is not mine to give, it belongs to the Spanish.

Tell them to give it to me. They're your allies.

I will have to speak to my advisers.

Why? Do you not trust your own judgment?

I come here in good faith, proposing alliance.

You reply with insults and impossible propositions.

You treat me like a child.

Gentlemen, your rooms have been prepared.

Dinner will be served on your return.

Sister Hermione will show you to yours, sire,

and Sister Jeanne will attend to you, My Lord.

I'm fine here, thank you.

You should lighten your mood from time to time.

My mood is my concern.

Well, perhaps it's your clothes, then.

Who knows?

A touch more orange?

Would His Majesty like me to send for his valet?

I can tell your voice and your manner are of noble birth.

What is your family name?

You don't recognise me, do you?

Your face is familiar.

Just my face?

Do you recognise me now?

What are you doing?

The same service I performed the last time we met.

Does His Majesty like that?

Yes.

-BLADE SCRAPES

-And this?

What do you want?

I want to tell you a story.

Once upon a time, a young woman arrived at court.

And like all young women,

she fell under the spell of the master of the house.

So the master lured her into his bed only to replace her with another,

but by then...

..she had a thing inside of her.

The master denied his paternity and the child, lucky thing...

..died before it ever saw the light of day.

You say that you care and protect your subjects, but you don't,

you destroy them!

What do you want?

My life.

My life!

SHE SOBS

I'm sorry.

I used to be the Duchesse de Longlet.

I want to be her again.

You wish to return to court?

Very well.

May I ask how you feel on returning to court?

I feel nothing. On what subject does Her Majesty wish to see me?

I have no idea. You'll find out soon enough.

DOOR SHUTS

Are you a God-fearing man, Monsieur Marchal?

I do not fear, Your Majesty.

You don't believe?

I don't know.

A few weeks ago, a priest by the name of Father Pascal

was found hanged in the chapel.

Next to his body was a note addressed to me.

In it, he admitted to sentiments towards me unbecoming for a priest.

Torn by guilt, he had decided to take his own life.

I'm sorry to hear it. Suicide is a lonely affair.

Yes...

if...it was suicide.

I have been replaced as head of police by someone else.

What makes Her Majesty believe I will be any more effective

than him at extracting the truth?

Because you have certain methods which have often proved effective.

Word from Holland, Your Majesty.

Yes?

The King's army has been driven back just outside Amsterdam.

And His Majesty?

His whereabouts are unknown.

Sire, may I ask what was proposed?

An alliance.

And His Majesty's thoughts on the matter?

He would have us believe that it would benefit us both.

In truth, it only benefits him.

We lost a battle, but the thrust of the war remains in our favour.

Sire, all of France supports you in your ambitions,

but even ambition must know its limits.

I am building an empire. I have no intention of sharing it.

HE SIGHS

Beautiful, isn't it?

I thought such icons were forbidden in the Protestant faith.

Frowned upon.

After you.

After you. I insist.

She seems upset.

No doubt you did all in your power to comfort her.

Comfort was not what she sought.

You asked me why I came here.

Now I have a question to ask you.

Why did you go to war?

Why does anyone go to war?

You're not anyone. Why did you choose to lead the army?

Because I am king.

Yet your brother is a far greater commander than you.

We shall see.

Are you afraid he might cast his shadow over you?

Who told you that?

Do you know why it is so easy to acquire information about you

and what you're planning?

It is because there are so many willing people to turn against you.

Like the Chevalier de Rohan?

No. He did not turn against you. You turned him against you.

You made an enemy of your best friend.

It is quite the talent you have.

It torments you, doesn't it?

The knowledge that somewhere very close to you,

someone you call a friend, someone whom you trust,

in whom you confide, but who is in fact a traitor.

Who could it be? A minister? A general? Your brother? Your wife?

Perhaps even your mistress?

-The Marquise de Montespan...

-I find it stuffy in here.

I think I shall take the air.

Words.

The answer to your riddle. I can end life.

I can give life. I bring truth. I bring lies.

I am heard but not seen. Who am I?

The answer is words.

Very clever of you.

Have you ever wondered whether your nobles are happy?

You force them to live under your roof.

The only way they can survive is to gain a foothold on the greasy

ladder of favour and promotion, so they've started to kill each other!

Do go on, this is fascinating.

Your brother hates you for the way you treat him and is just

waiting for the opportunity to take your place or to humiliate you.

I am willing to return the 40 towns I have taken, apart from Utrecht.

You will in return give me Maastricht and Franche-Comte.

Both belong to the Spanish,

as I have already said and as you already know.

You will persuade the Spanish to give them to me.

They're in no position to refuse.

They rely on you to protect their lands.

You haven't answered to my question. Why did you go to war?

16 million.

-I beg your pardon?

-You heard me.

16 million for what?

You pay me 16 million guilders and I agree to an alliance.

I shall have to think about that.

Don't think about it. Take a decision. Be a man. 16 million.

What do you say?

I say you went to war,

not to fight me but to escape the hell that Versailles has become!

I shall bear that in mind.

Who's winning?

He is.

You know Her Majesty has banned all gambling in the salon.

Then let her come and arrest me.

May I join you?

I'm almost finished.

What are you playing?

It's called cards.

Perhaps you could teach me.

What exactly do you want?

To see whether we couldn't find a way to...

..not necessarily be friends, but live together without bitterness.

A truce?

Yes.

What are your terms?

Mutual understanding.

You accept that he is sharing a bed with me out of duty.

And you accept that I do not seek to drive a wedge between you.

I find your terms one-sided.

What about understanding me?

You continue to see each other and enjoy each other's company.

But without sharing a bed.

Until I have fallen pregnant.

That could take years.

Possibly.

You don't understand.

Meeting in the salon is a sign of friendship.

Sharing a bed is a sign of love.

If he no longer wishes to share his bed with me,

then it follows...

..that he no longer loves me.

He loves you, but you are making it very easy for him to hate you.

No doubt you are full of good intentions.

But in case you hadn't noticed, good intentions count for little here.

I pity you.

Why?

Because you're scared.

HE SOBS

This is for you.

What is it?

It's a gift.

I'm in no mood for gifts.

You haven't seen it yet.

Her name is Leyak.

Where is she from?

Java.

She's a widow witch.

In the daytime, she appears as an ordinary human being.

But by night, she flies around in search of a pregnant woman,

to suck her baby's blood.

Charming, don't you think?

You're scared, aren't you?

Of what?

That the edifice you have constructed may collapse and

take you along with it.

Don't be ridiculous.

You claim to be chosen by God.

But what if that's not true?

What if you're just like the rest of us mere mortals?

What if the castle you've built has no foundation?

What if the poison that inhabits it kills all who live there,

including its maker?

You are a fool.

Not so foolish as to believe I have divine powers.

You are a fool and a liar.

You must be keen to return to the eager arms of

the Madame de Montespan.

No doubt she will offer you respite from your sleepless nightmares.

You have no idea what you're talking about.

But I do, and that's what's bothering you. How do I know?

They say she is both witty and beautiful

and holds you completely under her sway.

I suggest we change subjects.

In Holland we have a saying, "It is vanity that blinds us to our

"own blindness".

I see well enough.

Do you not fear being under the control of a woman?

She must be some woman.

Perhaps it is with her I should be negotiating?

I do not care for your gift!

Oh, dear. I fear His Majesty is unwell.

His Majesty is in need of sleep.

I have very much enjoyed our discussions. Goodnight.

I understand the sheep at Versailles are in poor health.

Yes. Disease, predators, even cannibalism are rife.

And the leader of the flock?

He has travelled to another pasture.

What sort of predators?

One in particular. A wolf in the guise of a lamb.

He's currently with the leader of the flock.

Who knows nothing of his true identity?

Nothing. He trusts him entirely.

And when the leader of the flock returns to his pasture,

the wolf will accompany him?

He will. He has much work to do.

FOOTSTEPS

Thomas, you're still up?

Yes, the search for the perfect metaphor does not abide by

the hours of the clock.

I wish you luck in your search. Goodnight.

Goodnight.

'I can see paradise.

'But you must build it for yourself.'

'All who surround you will smile and they will deal,

'but they would all see you destroyed, Sire.'

Who's there?

'Why did you go to war?

'Your brother is a far greater commander than you.

'Afraid he might cast a shadow over you?

'It is vanity that blinds us to our own blindness.'

Louis, my love.

Please hold me. Please, I'm so cold. I'm so cold.

Please... hold me, Louis.

Please! They're coming to kill us.

They're there.

You do not see them, but I do.

Who?

They are all around us.

-I do not see them.

-Please hold me.

LOUIS GASPS

What's the matter? It's me.

I've been looking for you everywhere.

How did you find me here?

I will always find you. Always.

We're meant to be together, remember?

Yes.

No! No.

Look away, Louis.

Hold me! You can't leave me!

Not now! They're coming for us!

Louis! Look at me and only me.

I no longer recognise you.

I do not recognise myself.

You've never understood.

I was born to be king, that is all I can be.

What are you scared of?

That I am nothing.

The whole thing a mirage.

Like our love?

Who murdered you? Was it my brother?

Was it William?

No.

Who killed you? I must know.

You did, Louis.

I?

If you want to be saved, close your eyes.

What do you see?

I see a boy in a forest.

He is lost. Running.

He looks behind him.

He sees a shadow coming closer to him.

He trips. He falls.

He gets up. He runs.

The faster he runs, the closer the shadow comes. He is scared!

He comes to a cliff. He looks down.

He sees rocks.

Darkness.

He feels the shadow behind him.

He loses his footing.

He feels himself falling.

He knows he must turn round. He must.

He turns.

It's gone.

ANGELIC CHOIR SINGS

BELL TOLLS

You have been here all night?

I heard you talking in your sleep.

I had a dream, a nightmare.

I was lost in the wilderness of my mind.

You seem changed.

I am free.

I shall order you a carriage. We are returning to Versailles.

I shall not be coming, Sire.

You will not accompany me?

I saw how you suffered last night.

I can better accompany you by remaining here and praying for you.

Thank you for your prayers.

DOOR OPENS

-Has the Dutchman arisen?

-Not yet, Sire.

Come, we are leaving.

And what of the discussions?

There were no discussions. And no meeting.

Of course, Sire.

Your orders, Sire?

The army will remain here under the command of the Marechal Conde.

We shall return to Versailles.

I have certain matters to attend to there.

Carry on.

You slept well?

Fitfully. And you?

Like a child.

I wanted to thank you.

-For what?

-For holding a mirror up to me.

I shall remember our discussions with fondness.

Despite the distance between us,

-there is something we shall share only with each other.

-What is that?

Our solitude.

And the alliance?

No. You believe you have weakened me.

In fact, you have given me back my strength.

I have rediscovered my taste for war...and for victory.