The Hour of The Pig

Roger Landrier...

you are declared attainted and convicted of crimes against nature...

in that you did have carnal knowledge of the she-ass here present.

And that over the past 10 years, you have similarly confounded yourself...

with a number of bitches of your own household...

and with two ewes...

the property of your neighbor Deschauffeur.

You are delivered to the Master of High Works...

to be stripped and hanged by the neck...

and strangled until you are dead.

As the law requires, your collaborator, the she - ass...

will suffer the same penalty on the gibbet beside you.

The Lord have mercy on us.

Stop! Stop!

Stop!

Father Lucian of the village of Ezies...

brings a petition from the good people of his parish.

"This document testifies to the previous good character...

"of the beast here present, known as Virginie...

"and attests she could never have willingly participated in...

the unnatural act for which she is condemned."

It is my direction...

that the person of the she-ass was violated without her consent.

She is released without stain to her character.

Proceed.

In nomine Patris, et Fili, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.

Come on, now! Hup! Hup!

Come on there!

In the Year of our Lord 1452...

I, Mathieu, lawyer's clerk, left the fine city of Paris...

to accompany my youthful master, the advocate...

in search of the simple country pleasures.

It was my master's fervent hope that in a modest rural practice...

he might escape the politicking and corruption of the big city.

For my part, I was doubtful whether amongst the peasantry...

and the wiles of Ponthieu...

we'd find anything approximating to the Garden of Eden.

But then, I'm not the advocate.

Hey!

No-o-o!

I was asleep, was I?

- Did I make a noise? - Monsieur was dreaming, perhaps.

I don't dream, madame. Was I snoring? Yes.

They've stopped to let the hunt go by.

Which way?

Maitre?

- Whose castle is it? - - The seigneur Jehan dAuferre.

- He's the Lord of Abbeville, monsieur. - Maitre.

Monsieur is an advocate of law, so monsieur is a maitre.

- We'll be working in Abbeville. - They have a lawyer there.

Now they've two.

Seven hours. We could have had better company.

The woman was entertaining enough.

She said when the seigneur gets tired of hunting deer and wild pig...

- he uses human quarry. - I didn't hear that.

- You were asleep, Maitre. - You'll have to get used to country gossip, Mathieu.

But you'll find them good people, real people.

- Evening! - Shove off!

- Sanctuary. - Maitre Courtois?

From Paris? You're very welcome, Maitre.

We have the best rooms for you, and one next to you for your servant.

- Mathieu's my clerk. - Hurry up, Isabelle.

- Now, you'll have sausage and stew? - Oh, yes.

No! "Under green leaves beside a noisy brook..."

"The peasant Gontier took his meal on fresh cheese, apple and plum...

"chopped shallots on a crust of good bread...

with course salt, the better to drink."

No sausage.

What's the animal doing here?

The seigneurJehan d'Auferre has lost his quarry.

Look at the way she holds herself.

Country girls, Mathieu.

- You can keep your whores in Saint-Denis. - Oh, thanks.

- Good God! That dog smiled at me. - 'Course he did, Maitre.

I never saw a dog smile.

I curse your dingle dangle prick, your nasty wrinkled little wick!

God painted my soul black, madame, when he pushed me up...

- your crack! - - Tell me about the country lawyer.

His name's Pincheon, and he's been state prosecutor 15 years.

- And he's no country lawyer. - You know him?

If he's the same Pincheon, he's from Paris, lie be la Cite.

Ever shall they reconcile the cock and cunt that each revile.

- Good God! - The simple country pleasures.

Opposing now and evermore...

- You've seen him work, this Pincheon? - He's good.

Was good, if it's him. He took on the Maitre Delamain.

Chewed him up and spat him out, they say.

See the butcher here below...

his big knife sharpened for the blow.

- Courtroom? - Well, Pincheon could've come up against an easier prosecutor.

Maitre Courtois from Paris!

Domini.

Albertus of this parish.

You must come and visit me, Maitre.

Anyone who's read a book has been sent by the Almighty.

He's very good, the priest.

How extraordinary!

The blackamoors, are they?

No, they're from Little Egypt.

Reached Paris already, some of them.

Spreading like rats.

Maitre Pincheon?

Yes.

Maitre! Richard Courtois. I'm the new advocate.

I'm looking forward to crossing swords with you.

Maitre.

- Good God! - We haven't had a defense advocate since last summer.

Some of these have been waiting for five, six months.

They'll be peasant quarrels, Mathieu:

A meter here or there of a boundary, a grandfather's rights of pasture.

- You'll have to get used to... - Murder.

- Murder? - A cuckold... smashed the skull of his wife's fancy man.

A rape here. And, witchery!

No. That should be tried by the church.

It's been there, Maitre. They sent it back to the civil court.

Here's a sodomite. Buggered his donkey.

Oh, no. Dispatched, that one.

- Good God, what is this? - Must be the country air.

You slut!

You've been off screwing him again, haven't you?

Who is the bastard?

I'll kill him! I'll cut his balls off!

Can I help?

- Maitre Courtois! - Father Albertus.

I... what a beautiful morning!

Just, walking off a heavy meal.

Are you going to town? Oh, no, no.

Yes. I... well, I have to. I...

Your future home, Maitre.

The builder's design.

Gentlemen, you've heard the Maitre Pincheon accuse my client, Valliere...

this honest and gentle farmer...

of the savage murder of a man he believed to be his wife's lover.

The maitre laments that the law does not permit him...

to call the wife of the accused to give testimony.

Nevertheless, I ask you to observe the evidence she presents to you.

There, gentlemen, is the object of desire.

Now, I don't doubt that the beldame is a dutiful wife.

But I have to ask you, is this a woman for whom the carnal lusts of one man...

and the hot blood of jealousy in another led to a terrible revenge?

Truth, as always, gentlemen, is simple.

The deceased was a drunk... and a thief.

Several witnesses have avowed it.

He came by night to the home of the accused...

was disturbed in the act of theft...

and in the struggle which followed, his drunken skull banged against the hearth...

and he expired.

The accused had nothing to gain...

and everything to lose from the death of a scoundrel.

It is your privilege now, gentlemen, to set him free.

It is in your capable hands.

So avowed on the part of Valliere.

Not as sharp as you thought, the famous Pincheon.

I owe you my life, monseigneur. I won't forget it.

They had a bad case. The maitre did his best with it.

No, they'd have strung me up if you'd not been here...

and all for that bastard!

I should've done him years ago.

Anything you ever want, Maitre, ask for Valliere.

- Mathieu, do you think... - Yes, Maitre.

That the man really screwed his wife, that little church mouse?

I gather the deceased screwed quite a few wives...

including those of several members of the judiciary.

"Just country gossip."

- We should see the witch. They could burn her. - They hang them here.

Where is your glory, Babylon?

Where is now Nebuchadnezzar? Where the evil doers of times past?

The death by hanging only this past month of Roger Landrier...

and the miraculous reprieve of his own she-ass by the grace of God.

See how worms devour the fair Absalom.

Her flesh was soft. But alas, her belly...

gapes with the cruel wounds of death.

- What is it? - Oh, the poor little boy. The blood on him!

What happened?

- Must've had a bad fall. He looked terrible. - He looked dead.

Little Jewish boy. Shame, though.

- How do you know he was Jewish? - The mother.

White circle on the breast. They make them wear it.

- How long have we been here, Mathieu? - All of five days, Maitre.

The devil's mark, Maitre.

You see? The third nipple.

- The witch's teat. - I was a wet-nurse, monseigneur.

That was a birth mark before you stuck your damn needles in it.

And you keep her naked, do you, like an animal?

She's pricked twice a day, Maitre.

In cases of witchery, evidence may be obtained by duress...

and the prisoner will be stripped for the ordeal.

Labatier says I've got tits like a milk cow.

Labatier, you're not an officer of the Inquisition. You've no right.

Oh, yes. I'm a licensed pricker.

Loose her... and bring her clothes now.

Yes, I suckled Lucifer.

But since then I've tasted of the blood of Christ from his five wounds.

You don't have to talk to me like that. I want her dressed now!

I'm not with them. Do you understand?

Put down: The body is badly marked...

there are signs of torture in the second and third degree.

Maitre, I flew on beams and kissed the devil's ass...

- and I'll be hanged for it. - No.

Church has made you excommunicate, and passed you over to the civil court.