The Golden Coach (Le carrosse d'or)

The coach!

What is the meaning of this? Why this disorder?

His Highness' new coach. It's arriving.

That's no reason for this lack of discipline.

Go back to your posts... all of you.

Out of a dream! Out of a dream!

- Just like a dream. - Remarkable.

Magnificent.

How much would you say, my dear duke?

Much more than the grant for a chief justice, Your Honor.

I have little regard for the material things of life.

Would you say this coach represents

one more little trinket for our poor, dear marquise?

Nothing His Highness might do could surprise me.

I doubt if our marquise will remain a widow much longer.

The bath is icy.

Now you're boiling me.

Oh, now there's something in my eye.

Let me.

Oh, it's only an eyelash.

There.

Thank you, Marquise. You're my guardian angel.

What do you want, Martinez?

Your Highness, the coach is just crossing the palace square.

- The coach? - My new coach.

The Santa Ana docked early this morning.

The coach has been carefully loaded onto an oxcart.

It remains only to have the horses harnessed...

the wheels mounted...

- And the bill paid. - Oh, I want to see.

Shall I charge it to Your Highness' personal account...

or shall I place it on the roster of official expense?

Official expenses, naturally.

Balthazar, Domingo, José, Martinez, these lazy rascals have left me here.

- You may have them beaten. - Immediately, Your Highness.

- Your Highness should come and look. - Oh, is it really as splendid as all that?

Beautiful, exquisite, breathtaking. It glitters so I can hardly look at it.

- But why send all the way to Italy for it? - Well, I always wanted a foreign coach.

In Spain, when I was young, I always promised myself one...

if ever I got out of debt.

What graceful lines.

Ah, but it's the craftsmanship that counts.

- Those springs, English steel. - It's out of a dream.

- Magnificent, Your Highness. - Your Highness has excelled himself.

A perfect piece of workmanship. I congratulate you.

- Unbelievable. - Quite superb.

Yes, yes, I know. It's out of a dream.

What's that other vehicle coming into the square?

That wagon there?

Foreigners undoubtedly.

Those strange costumes, all those musical instruments...

painted canvas.

If I didn't know better, I'd say they were actors.

Actors? How shocking!

The bishop would certainly not approve.

Such a saint.

Here we are.

Maybe it's better inside.

After that ship, any kind of bed at all would be welcome.

Innkeeper.

Good day, sir. Are you the innkeeper?

Yes. Are you the actors?

Don Antonio and his world-famous troupe of commedia dell'arte...

just come from Italy.

- Well, come inside. - But your letter said...

We'd better have a little talk. This way.

Yes, we'd better.

Well, how do you like the new world?

- It will be nice when it's finished. - Throw wide the doors.

Advance.

Don't you feel sad seeing it go?

It was certainly the most comfortable room on that terrible ship.

Well, there it goes.

Good-bye.

I thought babies play with emeralds here, hmm?

No streets paved with gold either.

No streets.

Those books certainly weren't true.

Those writers were only exaggerating, I suppose.

- Let's go inside the inn. - No, I won't move.

- I stay here. - What for?

For the next cart to take me back to the port and Italy.

Be sensible. You're just tired. That's all.

Mm-mmm. Look at Isabella. Is she tired?

- With five babies. - No, but...

And the others, not tired.

Not the way I am.

They still believe.

Believe what?

That those two hours on the stage every night...

are worth everything.

Well...

I'm not an actor, but...

I love you, Camilla...

not the people you become for those two little hours every night.

Marry me.

Felipe, you read this man's letter.

He promised a world capital...

a comfortable inn and a theater.

Here is the city...

here is the inn.

As for the theater, step this way.

Our theater.

It's not exactly ready yet...

but it never rains here.

The shed can be made into a very fine stage.

All you have to do is clean up the place.

Oh, Felipe.

I'll provide the seats,

- and there's our theater. - And that's the public!

Cool and comfortable.

I'll treat with that... that innkeeper, my love.

You wait here a moment.

You're all young and strong. It won't take you long.

It is too much work to make a theater out of this... of this...

- Barnyard. - Thank you.

Permit me, Don Antonio.

- So, you claim to be Spanish, do you? - Pure Castilian, sir.

- Which town? - Toledo.

You've heard of my family then. I'm Juan Aguirre's son.

- The great swordsman. - Yes.

And I'm astounded at your greed...

and ashamed that I have to protect these artists from a fellow Castilian.

Artists? Mountebanks! Street singers!

Street singers? Us? The delight of all the crowned heads of Europe?

What percentage do you extort from them?

- Only 80%. - Eighty per...

I paid for their passage, I am ready to house and feed them.

While they construct a theater. That's worth a lot more. You'll take 50%.

Oh, no. I'll take no less than 70... if they build a theater.

You mean 50. And that's more profit than you deserve.

You can all get out. More than I deserve indeed!

We'll go, but I'll teach you a lesson in honesty first.

Fernando, Manuel, Pedro!

Don't call your ruffians, or there'll be another lesson.

And I'll help you. Look at him.

Come, Felipe, let him stay in this pigsty.

Yes, better not cause any trouble here, or it's Cuzco for you.

- It's what? - Cuzco. The army...

they're trapped by Indians there...

and not too particular how they get replacements.

So be careful.

If they're not particular, they'll take you, too.

Come, we'll go together. You act bravely enough here.

Now, never mind that.

Very well, then. You can stay...

but I'll be losing money.

Since he's sitting up asking so nicely...

shall we be gracious and stay?

My dear public.

Oh, my love. I love you.

I love you.

Andiamo.

Within my heart, love "stroogles" to awake.

Struggles.

Within my heart, love strrr...

Str...

Oh, Felipe, is impossible.

I can't win them in a foreign language.

- Win who? - Them... the audience.

The only "them" who matters.

- Is he an actor? - Who? That old fool?

No.

- Rum and spirits. Cuatro reales. - Shh!

Noble sirs and gentle ladies.

Rum and spirits. Cuatro reales.

- Don Antonio's world-famous troupe... - Sit down!

Jesters to the crown heads of all Europe, greet you.

- We are proud to introduce... - Rum and spirits.

The ancient traditions of the commedia dell'arte...

to your charming country.

I, Don Antonio...

- Salute you in the garb... - What's his name?

Of the master of our ceremonies...

- and present to you our characters. - Hello, grandfather!

First, Pantalone, the old merchant...

as much a part of Venice, queen of the seas, as San Marco.

Pantalone.

Where are the pretty ladies?

She's older than you are!

- Dr. Ballordo... - She's older than you are!

Master of the classics, a fountain of empty words.

- He looks like... - Papische Valento.

A military sight upon a quiet street...

last to the fight and first to retreat.

Cuzco!

Fathered by Vesuvius...

He's erupted in many countries.

To the French he's Polichinelle.

The English watered him down.

Poor Punch.

Our lovers.

Florindo, slightly ridiculous...

like all sentimental cavaliers.

Isabella, tender yet perfidious...

like all women.

Harlequin, spirit of theater.

Our incarnation of Mercury...

patron of thieves and go-betweens.

In his looking glass what he finds is Columbine!