Franklin

Fire until we reach the fort.

We're overrun!

Keep moving!

They took the hill!

Sergeant, keep your men in formation!

Retreat! Retreat!

Come on, boys. Bring 'em in.

Take him into the yard.

General Washington says to see him straightaway.

Who is he?

Some Frenchman.

Held the line at Brandywine Creek is what I hear.

Fat lot of good it did him. Or us.

You look hungry, messieurs. I hope you do not eat me.

The gentlemen of England. They... they honored me with a bullet.

Take this. Bite down hard.

I've been told I speak it reasonably well.

You've compromised His Majesty's neutrality.

I simply granted the boy's request. No disrespect was meant.

You sent a French officer to die on American soil.

The British ambassador has lodged a formal protest.

I mourn the marquis's death with all of France.

Yet consider this, Monsieur Gérard.

A promising young man cut down in the fight for liberty.

What better advertisement for our alliance?

The death of a headstrong adventurer for a cause not his own

is not grounds for inspiration.

Is that Monsieur Vergennes's position?

The foreign minister can have no position

on a matter of which he has no knowledge.

A good statesman sees nothing, hears nothing, knows nothing.

Ah.

Bon homme Richard. I enjoyed it very much.

Monsieur Gérard...

Who had my printing press smashed to bits?

It's unlawful

to bring a press into the country.

You are a honored guest who would never break the law.

Therefore, no such machine exists.

How could it be destroyed?

And what of me?

Do I exist? Or am I unlawful too?

You exist in Passy, Doctor.

But not in Paris.

I suppose there's no point in warning you again.

That I must forgo drink and meat?

That I must seek pleasure in small amusements?

Ac... Accept that which I cannot alter?

Yes, I've never liked an articulate patient.

Vergennes toys with me.

He will help us after we win.

But we cannot win unless he helps us.

All I've actually accomplished is sending a young fool to his death.

Y-You can't hold yourself to account for that.

Boys like Lafayette will seek their fate

one way or the other.

Then God rest his soul.

You've salvaged the press at least.

It's useless without the platen and those vandals left it in pieces.

Oh, have another fashioned.

The press is illegal.

They'll know if I try to fix it.

"They"?

Yes, "they" that looks at every keyhole, that follows me wherever I go.

That sends coded messages to the Paris police, the halls of Versailles,

the despots in Westminster.

Hmm.

My advice, which you will ignore, is porridge and unsweetened tea.

Hmm.

Ah.

Oui.

Sounds like Gilbert.

Oui.

Non. Non!

Philippe, allez.

Bravo! Bravo!

Bravo!

Bravo!

À boire! À boire!

My friend. Come with me.

Now.

Monsieur Temple! Monsieur Temple! Temple!

Monsieur Temple!

Monsieur Temple!

Monsieur Temple!

I'll send for the constable. We will search all the roads.

You must not worry.

- Temple! Dear boy. Where are you? - Monsieur Temple!

Messieurs. Messieurs, par ici.

Par ici, messieurs.

Messieurs, par ici.

Temple! Temp...

Grandfather?

I, uh...

I was at the Épée de Bois, drinking.

With Jacques?

No, with Philippe and Louis.

The comte de Ségur and the comte de Noailles.

I don't believe I've had the pleasure of their acquaintance.

They are the finest fellows of France.

Except for Gilbert.

The marquis was a brave young man.

- It's my fault he's dead. - It is not.

I... I made you write the letter. I sent him off. And...

Lafayette chose his own path.

Neither you, I, nor anyone else could have stopped him.

I thought it would... I thought it would help our cause.

These thoughts will bring you nowhere.

Drop your anchor tonight. Set a new course in the morning.

Don't Poor Richard me.

I beg your pardon?

All your handy little... little...

- Aphorisms. - It's not how people are.

You're too young to know how people are.

I know how you are.

I study you.

Saying one thing, doing the other.

Always thinking you're clever enough to get away with it.

I didn't realize that you held me in such low regard.

How can you do it?

Do what, exactly?

Pretend my father doesn't exist.

While he sits. - In a jail cell. - Your own son. And you won't help him.

You are angry and sorrowful and very drunk.

That's why you brought me here, isn't it?

To make up for your own selfishness?

A wife you ignored. A daughter you barely know.

And you want me to be just like you.

Temple, someday you may realize that there are errata in every man's life.

- Things you wish you could erase. - They're called sins.

No, they're not sins. They're errors in judgment, and...

I've spent my life trying to correct them. I still am.

Will you allow me that?

- When I was a boy your age, I... - I don't care what happened to you.

What of these?

Ah, they're ruined. Fit for melting down. Nothing else.

The Amphitrite slipped the net. It may yet find its mark.

To what end? The loss at Brandywine opened the way to Philadelphia.

The arms and material on that ship could yet tip the balance.

Many things could happen, but most will not.

Be hopeful, friend. Circumstances change.

He that lives on hope, Mr. Bancroft, dies farting.

That's honest at least.

You were not expecting such honesty?

I've heard so very little of it lately.

Then come ride with me,

and we'll do nothing but be false with each other.

I fear I'll make poor company.

If you hold me in any affection,

do please amuse me.

He is a fishmonger

with a family of six.

Once a week, he closes his stall early.

Washes himself with Castile soap and lemon.

He comes here to walk about as a gentleman.

And yet, with each person that passes, he nervously wonders...

Can they smell the fish?

Oui.

Mmm.

Um.

Her.

She is... meeting a lover.

That simple?

It is never simple.

Oh, she's married.

Of course.

But that is not the concern.

She seeks something she fears does not exist.

A meeting of souls.

When nothing is said, but all is understood.

So that two may be in harmony,

hiding nothing of themselves, and so live in perfect bliss.

It sounds very chaste.

It is a passion

greater than a heart can bear.

And her lover?

Comment est-il? Um...

Plain on the face of it.

But always scheming at something.

Rather a slippery fellow, hmm?

- That is what makes him interesting. - I prefer my fishmonger.

Then you may have him.

I am floundering, madame.

Mired. Muddied. Lost.

I cannot see the way forward.

I don't know who I can trust.

I'm here to help my country win its freedom, but all doors are shut.

And time is running out.

I am not even allowed to set foot in Paris.

And this gout is gonna be the death of me.

These are my burdens. Not yours.

Nothing is easier than solving someone else's problem.

And what is your solution?

For your country's freedom, I have no answer.

For whom you may trust

you may trust me.

For your return to the city, who would stop you?

You are a little famous, I am told.

Not as famous as the chevalier d'Éon.

Fashions change often in France. You must not let them.