Monsieur Beaucaire

A courier from Spain.

Will there be war?

We'll soon know.

The gates are closed!

I bear a message from his majesty, king Philip of Spain

to his majesty, Louis, king of all France.

The courier from Spain. Open the gates.

De chandre, it's the courier from Spain.

Yes, I know.

What will it be, war or peace?

Neither for us

if the good king Louis should catch

the charming pompadour in my apartment.

And since when does the gallant de chandre fear for his head?

Not mine. This one.

Much too pretty a head to be found rolling around in the bottom of a basket.

But, darling, yours would be there beside it.

You think of everything, my dear pompadour.

Your majesty.

Your majesty.

Hmm?

Hmm? What is it?

Sire, the courier from Spain.

Come here, come here.

What say the Spanish?

Is it war?

Not yet, sire.

Then what is it?

Speak, man, speak!

King Philip feels that the forces who fan

the flames of hatred toward France can still be thwarted.

But how, how?

An alliance based on royal marriage.

Royal marriage?

Yes, sire.

Between Maria, Princess of Spain,

and a French nobleman of your choosing.

Mmm.

What do you think, d'Armand?

Philip is shrewd, sire. He knows the Spanish.

The right marriage might well stir their romantic imagination and avert war.

Yes, yes, quite true. Quite true.

But we must be careful. We must choose the proper man.

You, courier, refresh yourself. I shall send for you.

Yes, d'Armand, we must choose the proper man.

Someone handsome, dashing, clever.

One whose wit and charm

would captivate the Spanish court.

In other words, sire, the Duke de chandre.

Who else?

Brilliant stroke, sire, brilliant.

Obvious choice to rid the court

of his fiery temper and quick blade.

To say nothing of considerable romantic competition.

The young blood should be duly grateful, eh, d'Armand?

Not to mention a few of the older ones, sire.

I shouldn't wonder.

What do you mean?

Oh, nothing, sire. Nothing.

Except I noticed the charming newcomer.

Madame de pompadour favor him with a smile.

A smile? A smile? What's a smile?

She did?

But, what matter, sire?

After all, he leaves in a few days.

Few days? He leaves tonight!

Send the courier back to Spain.

Tell Philip his daughter Maria weds the darling of the French court.

Bon vivant! Swordsman extraordinaire!

Prince of the blood! Our adored Duke de chandre!

Very well, sire.

Inform de chandre, the queen, the ministers.

Spread the news! This is a big night,

and all France must celebrate!

Good heavens, get my barber.

Summon monsieur beaucaire.

Summon monsieur beaucaire.

Monsieur beaucaire.

Monsieur beaucaire!

Monsieur beaucaire!

Where is he?

In the chambermaid's room.

Thank you very much... Chambermaid's! Oh!

Go away, Mimi. Don't try to stop me.

You've broken my heart for the last time.

You're now gazing at a frenchman who is not afraid to die for love!

- Beaucaire, stop. - Don't try to stop me, Mimi. Don't.

Oh, it's you. Talk to me later. I'm killing myself.

Beaucaire, you can't. You can't kill yourself.

Why not?

The king wants a shave!

Tell him I'm tied up. Oh, the king? Oh, that's different.

How about...

You didn't tie the rope?

I was gonna take a couple of practice swings.

Oh, I see. Hey.

My dear beaucaire, why do you want to kill yourself?

You, with so much to live for!

It's Mimi.

Mimi? Why should you be upset

about a little scullery maid?

Scullery maid? She's the king's new chambermaid.

She promoted herself upstairs.

What of it?

If she can promote herself upstairs

she can promote herself upstairs.

Maybe not.

You don't know Mimi. She's ambitious to be somebody.

For years, she's been determined to get upstairs.

Oh, perhaps she wanted to enlarge her mind.

No, her mind's large enough and the rest of her

doesn't need any improvement.

Well, then what's worrying you?

It's the king.

After all, he's got the power to... he's the king.

Beaucaire, I'm surprised.

You know, a chambermaid doesn't seek

to attract the king's eye unless she wants to.

That's right, not unless she wants to.

She wants to.

I'm positive. I threw myself at her feet.

Told her if she went through with this, I'd hang myself.

Well, what did she do?

Loaned me the rope.

Well...

Beaucaire...

My poor, poor friend, you were right.

You must kill yourself.

You were right, absolutely right.

Well, you could argue with me a little. I...

Beaucaire, think. You're a frenchman, yes?

A man of honor, yes?

You lost your sweetheart, yes?

Then you must kill yourself, no?

That's settled. I gotta get to work.

Mimi?

Oh, are you still alive?

Tell the king I'll be right up.

Mimi, you're making a mistake, a big mistake.

I have nothing further to say, beaucaire.

Well, I won't let you do it.

You won't let me do it? Out of my way, barber.

Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?

What makes you think the king will look at you twice?

He won't have to. Once will be enough.

Mimi, do you realize what you're doing, turning me down?

And for what? A king!

Mimi, I've got a future. I'm only a little barber now.

But someday I'll have a shop of my own with two chairs,

three chairs, maybe even four.

What does the king got? One chair!

But look what's on it.

Yeah, and another thing.

What about those other women upstairs?

They'll see through your tricky schemes.

In this palace, it's every woman for herself.

Dog eat dog.

Let's leave the queen out of this.

Where is that beaucaire?

My dear monsieur beaucaire, I am now going in to prepare

the queen's bath.

And while the queen is taking her bath, who knows?

I may get to meet the king.

Farewell, barber.

Mimi, I'm warning you.

If you go through with this, you'll never see me again.

Have you thought about that?

Well?

Well!

I guess you've thought about it. Wait!

Beaucaire!

Gentlemen, I didn't call you in to ask your opinion.

I called you in to give you my decision.

Beaucaire! You clumsy idiot!

Oh, there you are.

Oh, oh...

Sorry, sire.

But to send the Duke de chandre, a dandy, a popinjay.

Whose experience in court diplomacy is limited to... to courting!

Exactly!

Are you quite through, gentlemen?

For if you are... beaucaire!

What is the matter with you tonight?

Sorry, sire.

Oh!

I'm sorry. It's Mimi. I'm...

Mimi? Who's Mimi?

Oh, your girl.

I mean, my girl! That is, she's our girl.

Gets around, doesn't she?

Man, what are you jabbering about?

Mimi. May I talk to you about her, sire?

Certainly not.

Now, gentlemen, let's finish with this discussion.

The Duke de chandre goes to Spain and he goes tonight!

Who's Mimi?

Well, she's been downstairs, now she's upstairs.

Never mind now. Here's the queen.

Louis, what's this I hear of de chandre going to Spain?

Quite true, quite true. What about it?