On February 8, 1807...
from daybreak to nightfall...
the battle of Eylau cost Napoleon's France 10,000 dead.
His Majesty King Louis XVIII...
His (capital H) Majesty (capital M)...
Louis (capital L) XVIII...
took...no, reconquered, make that reconquered...
reconquered His kingdom...
If only he understood!
You are in the office of Mr. Derville, attorney at law!
It's burning, Hure! Open the window!
Mr. Hure, you rascal!
No more snacks for you!
Stop all this chatter!
I asked for a cloth to shield my hands.
Why not gloves?
Calfskin? Pigskin?
The scarecrow, with his hat screwed on!
He's coming!
Shut the window! And your trap too!
But, sir...
Quiet, Mr. Simonnin!
Don't keep the others from working.
We base our case...
on the decree...
Issued June 17, 1816.
Can I see your employer today?
Mr. Derville is in court, sir.
Good evening, sir. As you can see, it's dinnertime.
We're closing. - When will Mr. Derville be back?
With Mr. Derville, you never know. He's very busy.
State your case quickly, and we can...
I need a long time to explain my case.
And I'll explain it to no one but Mr. Derville.
I've come here five times!
Sorry, sir, but there's the possible and the impossible.
It's impossible to talk to Mr. Derville if he's not here.
And Mr. Derville is not here.
He's busy until past midnight.
If you're strong enough to return at 1:00 am...
Tonight at 1:00 am?
You got rid of him.
You have to take spectres like him by surprise.
Quite a surprise, a 1:00 am appointment.
I say he's an old servant cheated of his pay.
A coachman, I'll bet.
Nagged by his wife and despoiled by his children!
- It's a bet! - Why a coachman?
By the odor, sir.
- Didn't you notice? - Perhaps.
A horsey smell, and then some!
Stronger than horse.
A coachman's stink!
But the bet's on!
Simonnin! Now what are you up to?
Sir? We need your name for the appointment!
Chabert. Colonel Chabert.
See, he's a colonel!
The one who died at Eylau?
Godeschal, really!
Don't make tasteless jokes.
But I feel concerned. I handled the Chabert estate...
for Attorney Roguin, three or four years ago.
So he's a ghost?
He's neither ghost nor Colonel Chabert. He's just mad.
Godeschal's right. He's crazy.
- Godeschal lost his bet. - What do you mean?
A colonel's a horseman. More coachman than servant.
Madam, the guests are here. The Count says the concert's starting.
I'm coming. Help me, Sophie.
Brady & Worms? You remembered?
I was in London and I thought...
He'll make a fine peer!
I haven't smoked one of these since I left England.
You remembered the weakness I confessed to you?
A trifle, sir!
Life in England is unrivaled, but after a year
the London moneylenders sucked our blood.
Emigration...how sad!
We were so short of funds.
How those people made us suffer!
- Yet we do our best to imitate them. - So we do.
This Chamber of Peers you're so proud of...
imitates their House of Lords.
Same standards of birth and wealth.
It too is the way to government service...to power!
You'll be neither lord nor senator, my dear sir...
but a Peer of France.
May I take two?
The box is for you, my lord.
He's bribing me!
I already mention him to anyone who has the King's ear.
Why waste your money?
The Peerage...
There'll be no trouble slipping you in.
You're highly esteemed... everywhere.
Esteemed...
but...
I'm already setting up an entailment.
Who mentioned entailment?
We know your fortune could buy...
ten peerages.
My fortune is often confused with that of my wife.
Countess Ferraud is irreproachable.
A good wife and mother.
I owe her a lot.
It's nothing to do with her personally.
We know how attached you are to each other.
It's what she represents.
The principle she represents, her past.
Her fortune amassed under Napoleon.
You know our friends...
suffered under that tyrant...
While that lovely woman partied...
danced with marshals he promoted...
who bowed to their Little Corporal.
His Majesty resents all that.
It'll be forgotten. Everything is.
But we must act now.
In six months the chamber will be full.
Baron Courcelle has three daughters to marry off...
and one foot in the grave.
It's time to go calling with gifts of sweets.
Don't miss the boat, Ferraud. Make your move.
When powerful interests vie, you can't put one on ice...
and serve the other.
You have to cut.
It should be surgical.
Surgical.
An excision.
Look at Talleyrand.
His wife was an idiot. Goodbye, Madam.
Look at the monster Bonaparte.
Josephine was sterile.
Out with her.
It seems a huge step.
The first six weeks are difficult.
Then one morning you wake up...
and realize it's passed.
Like an illness.
I must see to my other guests.
Excuse me.
Of course, my dear man.
But...think over our chat.
Ambition...
or the pillow?
It's up to you.
All this music is a bore.
It was a great success.
Indeed.
You seem doubtful.
A great success.
The wine was scalding.
Too hot. For my taste, anyway.
Lucienne served it too soon.
I warned her, but she's unruly.
I'll speak to her.
The musicians cost a lot of money.
I'll put them away, Sophie.
- Yes, Madam. - You go to bed.
Goodnight, Madam.
They were good, and we agreed to the price.
The musicians.
How do you know they were good?
I hired them for your pleasure...
and you vanished with that old miser Chamblin.
Vanished?
I was in the next room.
Music can be heard from room to room.
So can Chamblin.
He annoyed everyone.
Was what you had to say...
so important?
So secret?
The peerage as usual, I suppose?
The peerage...
and many other things.
What, for example?
What other things?
Sophie is really a nitwit!
I ought to get her back down here.
She forgot to remove my necklace.
Don't disturb her.
Well?
Aside from the peerage...
what did you gentlemen talk about?
The weather...
Hunting.
And me?
You spoke about me?
Yes.
You. Me.
The Empire.
Surgery.
You forgot your keys, boss?
Oh, it's you.
You said 1:00 am.
I know, but...
This way.
The porter let you come in?
I mentioned Derville.
Sit down.
Attorney Derville will be back soon.
I'll be patient.
Did you think we were joking...
when we stipulated this amazing time...
to see Mr. Derville?
This is his normal routine.
Each evening he's out cultivating people.
From 10:00 am to 2:00 pm he sees clients.
The rest of the day he's in court or at meetings.
He has only the night to plan his case strategies.
He's immensely intelligent.
He can do ten things at once.
He'll sit there, dining, reading letters and newspapers...
while I outline the next day's cases.
Never gets mixed up!
Everything is absorbed, analyzed, filed.
He makes it a point of honor never to lose a case.
Any case!
Sir, whom have I the honor of speaking to?
Colonel Chabert.
I'm listening.
I wish no one but you to know my situation.
You may go, Boucard.
- But... - No. Sleep well.
Yes, sir. It's all ready...
All right, I'll tend to it. Good night.
I'm all yours, sir.
Don't mind if I read. I'm listening carefully.
Late at night every minute counts.
Please be precise and brief. Get right to the point.
If questions are needed, I'll ask them.
All right. I'm Chabert.
Colonel.
I commanded a calvary regiment at Eylau...
where I died on February 8, 1807.
I was a key figure in Murat's charge...
that won the battle.
I can even say I saved the day.
I crossed the Russian lines.
Three lines reformed behind me as we rejoined the Emperor...
after massacring the Russians.
Two officers...
giants...attacked me.
A saber gashed open my head.
I fell off my horse.
You fell off your horse.
Murat flew to my aid...
and 2000 riders passed over my body...no less!
The earth shook. I felt it in my gut.
2000!
A charge no one will ever see again.
The cannons...
the screams...
The battle shook my body...
until I died.
It's all in "French Victories and Conquests from 1792 to 1815".
It must be in your library.
The Emperor was told of my death.
He said, as you'll see on page 206:
"So my poor Chabert is dead!"
The Emperor!
Two surgeons, who didn't bother to listen
to my heart, signed the death certificate.
And there I was...a corpse!
Did you know I'm Countess Ferraud's lawyer?
Yes, I know.
I came to you because all the other lawyers think I'm mad.
But yes, I know.
You interrupted.
Page 206, "Victories and Conquests".
"So my poor Chabert is dead.
Two surgeons. And there I was, a corpse!"
My wounds had put me in a cataleptic state.
That's why I was inert...
when, as usual in wartime...
the burial detail stripped me...
and threw me naked into the mass grave.
The pit...
How was I to breathe?
No air.
My ears rang.
And my head...
There's no word to describe the pain.
But I can describe death.
Death is red, then blue.
And it is cold.
Above all...
It's silent.
Silent...
At first, you seem to hear a running brook:
My comrades' dying breath and moans.
Some weep, oh, yes.
Bones crack...
Teeth grind...Oh, Lord!
And then...
the slightest sigh echoes...
echoes...
And then...
Death is the silence of death.
Then suddenly...
a thump.
Another and then another.
My heart began to beat again.
I moved the mass smothering me...
opening a breach big as a rabbit hole.
Air flowed down on me. Air!
The cold burned me like salt.
To suffer is, after all, to live.
A woman saw the snow flutter when I coughed.
She called her husband...
a fool who knelt and crossed himself.
She hauled me out of the pit to their hut.
Six months between life and death.
They took me to the Heilsberg hospital.
My memory returned in bits and pieces.
My name, my past life...
my colonel's rank.
Luckily...
Dr. Sparchmann, a surgeon...
took an interest in my case.
Sparchmann, Heinrich...
Neukapelle Strasse, Heilsberg.
He took me to his lawyer, a Prussian, like him.
So I got my story on paper, with oaths and signatures...
medical descriptions of my wounds...
testimony from my rescuers.
It's all there, in Heilsberg.
I was to get a copy, but war resumed.
I had to flee. A city each week.
Those people are no worse than others.
No better, either.
I was French, an enemy, but they fed me.
When they heard "Colonel"...
they laughed.
Often it got me a kick in the ass.
Or the madhouse.
The madhouse...
the worst thing that can happen to a man.
The buckets of water...
your arms tied behind your back...
the cudgel...
the food they toss you.
And as a madman...
you live with the mad.
Cottbus...
Dresden...
Gera.
The asylum in Gera!
After all that, I can't stand my name.
Yet I'm claiming it.
I'd like not to be me...
Yet here I am.
The general blindness mystifies me.
Knock at any attorney's door...
In rags, sir...
a knock brings dogs and policemen!
How does one bring a lawsuit...
without cash on the table?
You should know that.
A lawsuit against whom? The Russian Army?
Against my wife!
You mentioned her name before.
Isn't Countess Ferraud my wife?
She has a large fortune.
It came from me.
From me...alone.
I found her here, in Paris.
I call. She has me thrown out.
I write to her.
Boutin, my only friend...
my orderly in my days of glory.
Boutin...
who alone recognized me in a Strasbourg jail...
from which we escaped together.
You wrote to Countess Ferraud?
Four times from Prussia, twice since my return.
I'd say, maybe they were lost in the mail.
Boutin handed her the last one.
She tore it up without reading it.
Without reading it. She's killing me again!
Killing me!
Calm yourself.
I earned it for her...
I bought her a house.
It cost me over 100,000 francs.
With paintings...
furnishings, everything!
Maybe at first she didn't recognize my deathly pallor.
But since then?
I was buried under the dead, sir.
Now they're burying me under the living...
Under papers, stamps...
Lawyers see worse things than writers can invent.
I've seen wills burned...
Mothers despoil their lawful children...
on behalf of those bred in adultery.
Wives use their husbands' love to murder them...
or drive them mad, so as to live with their lovers.
I've seen ugly quarrels over still-warm bodies.
I've seen crimes, sir... Crimes...
that human justice is powerless to punish.
Our offices are sewers that no one can clean.
Tonight I won 300 francs at cards.
I'll contribute half to your resurrection.
Tomorrow see my chief clerk, Boucard.
Tell him your story, with dates, names, addresses.
Add any details you think of overnight.
As for me...
I have five more hours' work to do.
Forgive me. Shall I see you out?
Are those all people you're defending?
The files?
I attack people too.
It reminds me of the Genoa cemetary.
Graves on the hillside...
dangling red flowers.
The Genoa cemetary...
Is my wife there?
This way.
- You know her? - Of course.
Has she changed?
Changed? I wouldn't know, sir.
But today, as a woman, Countess Ferraud is...
The word will come to me:
"Superb".
Superb.
That's her, all right.
- You'll recover your wealth, Colonel. - "Colonel"!
But the paperwork, the mail... It all takes time.
Here's an advance.
Until you win, you'll get a stipend so you can live decently.
It's a difficult case.
Even if I get the papers you say are in Heilsberg...
It's no certainty.
It will be slow. It goes before three courts.
Leave Countess Ferraud alone.
You still love her?
Love her?
No.
Yes.
I want her, that's for sure.
But such disgust too!
Forget her as a woman.
From now on she's merely...
the opposing party, the enemy.
- Very well. - We'll play dead.
No one can do that better than I, sir.
Even if I lose my money...
I won't regret it.
I'll have seen the most skilled actor of our time.
Third wound in the back: Austerlitz.
Nine inches, from navel to left breast: Iena.
Fourth wound... - He contradicts himself?
Not once in three weeks. Not one mistake.
Ask about yesterday's weather, he's mute.
But a wound 15 year ago? He's ruler-precise.
I'm waiting for his papers.
It'll be a long wait.
Does Sprachmann even exist?
Or the Heilsberg lawyer?
Or even his accomplice, Boutin?
- Meaning? - It's memorized, like a role.
He's been repeating it for ten years, revising, ruminating.
- And his birthplace? - He's a foundling.
There must be some record.
- And his mother's name? - Unknown.
He gives her name as Augustine or Augusta.
Sometimes Marguerite.
That's how it is! Memory's like that!
Mine, at any rate!
It's all dead!
Except some spots glow like embers...
and they can die too.
You'd understand if you saw the wound on my head.
That wound...his head...
- You saw it? - No, that's like a shrine.
His hat's nailed over it.
When he took it off to mop his neck, he had a black stocking cap under it.
Move, Simonnin!
The same one he wore under his helmet.
- And the inventory, Godeschal? - Nothing new.
None of the valuables he describes appear in the estate inventory.
- Really? - Yes. Ask Desroches.
No tapestries, no silver punch bowl.
The Girodet painting?
No trace of it, or of the display cabinet...
for the coin collection he boasted of.
I keep telling you:
A pretty cabinet, with eight flat drawers...
velvet-lined, with holes for the antique coins.
Silver, bronze, all rarities.
12 of them: Greek, Roman, some even older.
Spoils of war. Wiesbach Palace.
I repeat sir, the estate lists no such...
Your millions come down to a few hundred thousand...
perhaps less.
I keep on reciting...
I made a list of my goods before I went off to war.
I have your list.
But compared with the one your wife gave to Rougin...
The official estate inventory after your...death...
My death!
They don't match.
It's terrifying.
It's magnificent.
Your wife robbed you like a bandit, which you can forgive.
But she also robbed the State, which never forgives.
We have a good way to bring her to her knees.
You don't matter. It's a case of tax fraud.
If she contests it, we'll call witnesses.
- What witnesses? - Boutin, for one.
He knew you in your days of glory.
He saw the painting, the punch bowl, perhaps even the money...
Boutin saw it all. He even got a bit of it.
But I won't bring him into court.
Really?
He's wanted.
A Strasbourg lawman.
- No. - Yes.
They threatened me with the madhouse.
All right, no Boutin.
We'll canvas your fellow soldiers.
Fishing's poor in that stream. Too many dead.
Russia devoured them all.
All switch...Right attacks left!
Bounce on those thighs!
Torso springs straight on the thighs!
You're on horseback, gentlemen.
Don't forget that!
Straighten your backs!
You asshole!
Fined for obscenity!
- He broke my nose. - Good for him!
In combat, it'd be your skull!
Son of a bitch!
Stop the fighting!
Sergeant, the rules!
No swearing, no blasphemy.
No insults.
No talk of the Bourbons or their cronies!
We honor the Emperor and await his son.
Violators will be fined.
He buys two quarts!
Crépin, gather the rods.
The rest can take a break.
In silence!
Who's this clown?
Mr. Derville.
In formation, gentlemen!
Combat positions!
Attack!
The papers, Colonel.
The papers from Germany.
- Hello, Colonel. - Hello, sir.
How'd you find me?
We had you followed.
Is there someplace quiet we can talk?
Of course.
You live here?
I wanted to hide this poverty from you.
What a stench!
The bears sleep there.
- Are they yours? - Boutin's.
They dance, coins drop, so we eat.
Speaking of which, I'm embarrassed, but...
You want to talk about money too?
Frankly, yes. We met two months ago.
You get five francs a day.
- Isn't Boucard paying you? - Yes.
Yes, in cash every Friday.
He makes me sign a receipt.
Well, then?
That's Boutin, my orderly.
Is there no better lodging in Paris? The stink is awful!
A place suiting your rank of Colonel...
Grand Officer of the Legion of Honor?
No tailors, wig makers, cobblers?
You think I'm wasting my money?
So people can say, "Chabert spends it...
on wine, gambling, women"?
- I only mean... - When I'm rich, you'll get double.
Tenfold, a hundredfold!
It's too sloppy, Sergeant!
Landrevec, you look ridiculous!
Guard your thigh and head!
Saber combat is a science.
For the calvary, the science of survival.
Survival is a soldier's duty.
"Reports of the Imperial Army."
I know them by heart up to the battle of Eylau.
Up to my death.
Then they went it alone.
"By heart." You admit that openly?
Why not?
You can say it to me...
but suppose...
Come, we'll be better off outside.
Suppose...
our opponent heard that naive admission.
They'd say, "The imposter memorized it all!"
That stink of bear! - The wind blows it back.
Don't worry. They're chained.
Brie's the youngest. I gave him to Boutin.
Sit down.
You have the papers?
All of them: Surgeon, lawyer, hospital.
Sit down.
We'll run 'em through the ribs
The ribs, tra-la-la-la-la
Run 'em through the ribs
Oh, how we shall laugh!
We'll run 'em through the ribs Rat-a-tat-tat
Tra-la-la-la-la
We're training the sons of war dead.
So that the truth is re-established.
Two days ago I despaired of recovering even my name.
I was going to stand in the street...
and howl for justice.
Now justice is done.
The papers say I'm Chabert.
I'll be awarded the rest.
- The rest? - Yes.
My money. My rank. My wife.
Chabert. Colonel Chabert. Good man.
You had no children.
They've had two together.
You only reported your survival after their marriage.
Morally, your position is weak.
You face a woman who no longer loves you, and her husband.
Powerful people who can influence the courts.
- Justice is justice, no? - Yes, but merely justice.
Let us compromise with it.
Compromise is the key.
- You claimed we'd win. - I still do.
But in 5, 10, 20 years of bickering...
We baffle them, so we're strong now.
It could go quickly, out of court.
- And honor? - Honor is living openly and well.
I'll get a settlement of 400,000, maybe more.
We'll offer to annul your marriage...
If the Ferrauds help annul your death certificate.
Alive again, you'll retire with a general's rank.
Every penniless country girl...
will be at your feet.
But I will have sold my girl...
My wife.
Derville!
Good morning, my dear Derville.
Madam, I haven't much time...
and we have a serious matter to discuss.
I'm crushed! My husband's away.
I'm delighted. He'd have been crushed to hear us.
Delbecq says you can manage your own affairs well.
I'll call Delbecq.
I know his skill and devotion to you...
But...believe me, we're better off alone.
I do declare, your face and voice are frightening.
A few words will turn you serious, Madam.
Chabert is alive.
I've seen him. I know him.
Stop clowning. What won't you think of!
Must I show you the papers proving your first husband's survival?
It's a lie.
This so-called Colonel Chabert must be an imposter, an ex-convict.
Can Chabert return to life?
Bonaparte sent an aide to inform me...
of his death, and I was awarded 3000 francs...
in pension, as his widow. By the Chamber.
I rightly rejected all the Chaberts who turned up...
as I will those to come.
Luckily, we're alone. We can tell lies.
I wouldn't take on a fraud.
You know that.
You're representing this impostor?
I pitied him, and he has so much proof.
I'm sure I can easily disprove his "proofs".
No. They are strong enough to cancel the death certificate.
Lose on that, and you lose the rest.
Whose cause are you defending?
His...or mine?
I'm still your lawyer, as I am Colonel Chabert's.
Do you think I want to lose a client...
as valuable as you?
You're not listening. - I am.
I can hardly wait to hear the rest.
I'm in a position to know how large your fortune is.
It's colossal.
- Is that a reproach? - Not at all.
I admire your ability to make it grow.
But it began as Colonel Chabert's.
He left me far less than I have now!
Calm yourself, please.
On the one hand, this fortune.
On the other hand, the poverty of a man you refuse to aid.
Aid means acknowledgment!
Reducing him to beggary will harm your reputation.
Then let's go to court!
I may lose 100,000 to your "Mr. Chabert"...
but my second marriage will be legalized because of my children.
How do we know how the courts will see a matter of the heart?
We have a mother and her children...
versus an old man forced into poverty and misfortune...
by fate, but also by you.
Judges are rarely young men in the prime of life.
They'll see a lost, wrinkled Chabert...
unable to find another wife, and then...
you'd go to court, but courts are public.
Places where secrets are unveiled, proclaimed.
Your opponent is never mute.
A good lawyer can paint you in odious colors...
and arouse...
an unexpected enemy.
I'm giving you a friendly warning of the risk.
An unexpected enemy?
Your husband, Count Ferraud.
Count Ferraud prizes me.
- I'm the mother of his children... - I'm a lawyer!
Don't talk such nonsense to a man who knows the human heart.
Right now, I'm sure he loves you...
and has no wish to break the ties that bind you.
Imagine him learning...
that his marriage could be annulled.
He'd refuse.
No, Madam.
He'd need...strong reasons.
Isn't the strongest that, with his marriage annulled...
he'd see no obstacle to a new union?
I know French peers anxious to marry off a daughter.
A royal decree...
could make the peerage hereditary...
from father-in-law to son-in-law.
I'll never have any lawyer but you, Derville.
Thank you, Countess.
What should I do?
Compromise. Negotiate.
That's always the way.
The Colonel...
Do you think he still loves me?
I can't imagine he'd feel otherwise.
I'll send you an agreement...
acceptable to both parties.
You could have your first meeting...
in a few days.
Trying to get sick?
- I slept badly. - When's the meeting?
- Noon. - You've time for a nap.
No.
For a woman. Really!
Especially your own.
They're only in case I push on to Pomains.
There's no public coach, but a lone rider's not safe.
Army deserters.
Keep an eye on Gilbert in my absence.
He's hovering around Julie.
So?
He's promised to Mathilde.
If he toys with a rival, we may lose him and Mathilde.
What do you care?
I'm attached to him. He knows horses.
What'll you do in Pomains?
More questions.
I heard that the Marquis de Termesson's sister lives there.
In Pomains.
She'll sell the land bordering my estate at the right price.
You said you were too poor for any extravagance.
A good reason to drive a hard bargain with the old witch.
Unless you lend me the money I need.
I said no.
Never mind, Berry!
I'd only need 80,000. That's nothing to you.
For me, it completes my entailment...
without resorting to usurers.
I'm going to Groslay to set the new farm rents.
- You'd lend that sum to anyone. - I'm short of cash.
It all went into the sugar refinery.
The sugar refinery! Progress!
A fortune built on beets.
I didn't dictate our marriage contract.
Your demands are working against you...
and I manage my fortune as I see fit.
I gave you a name.
And a rank.
- That's worth... - Two children?
You have them.
Including a son which is beyond price.
You never listen to me. Or to Delbecq.
Only to the old fogies in the peerage...
scheming for riches.
Don't go away angry.
I'll talk to Delbecq, see what we can do.
40,000...
Be cautious.
You're seeing Derville today?
Just for a few signatures.
Berry, the Count is leaving.
- This dress, Madam? - Yes, put it on the bed.
You'll never see her again...
our maid Julie.
I'm firing her.
You value Gilbert, I value Mathilde.
And you.
Hurry! My appointment's in an hour.
I saw her! She's coming! Chief!
She's here!
Hush, Simonnin!
Not so loud! Scat!
You'll wear a wig, not a hat! And your Legion of Honor.
You must be impressive, very impressive!
Mr. Derville is in his office, Countess.
She visits Count Ferraud on odd days...
and Colonel Chabert on even ones!
On leap years she evens the "count"!
I bet a box of candy...
they kiss and make up. - Nonsense!
She's a man-eating tiger. She'll gobble up Chabert!
I didn't know if you wanted to see Count Chabert...
so I separated you.
I'm grateful for the courtesy.
I'll be in the next room...
where Boucard will note the parties' reactions.
Mr. Chabert has agreed to stay in the adjoining room.
I can read aloud a proposal you can both hear.
I'll sound you out for your opinions.
Let's begin, Derville.
Very well, Madam.
"It is agreed this day...
in the office of Mr. Derville...
attorney, and in his presence, between...
on the one side, Mr. Chabert...
Amédée Jacques Hyacinthe...
Count...
Brigadier General, Grand Officer of the Legion of Honor...
domiciled in Pre Saint Gervais...
and, on the other side...
Madam Chapotel, Rose...
Marie Cecile...
wife of... - Skip the preliminaries!
They explain your respective positions.
- The terms! - I'm coming to them.
"In Article One of this agreement...
you recognize before me and my head clerk...
Amédée Boucard..."
- Hello, Boucard. - My respects, Countess.
"You agree that the aforesaid person, whose identity is given...
in an ordinance held by Alexandre Crottat...
attorney succeeding to Roguin...
is your first husband, Colonel Chabert.
The said Colonel and Count Chabert agrees...
first, to renounce all rights this bestows.
Second, to begin proceedings to dissolve the marriage...
in the month after his death certificate is annulled...
provided that the financial clauses are fulfilled.
You are given two choices:
An annual payment of 30,000 francs...
recorded in the public register..."
Which involves some publicity.
No, our agreement must be kept secret!
Quite right, Madam.
"The alternative...
closes the case with the payment...
the payment of a flat...
and final sum of...
420,000 francs."
That's absurd! 420,000 is absurd!
It's far too much! The sum's preposterous!
400,000 is the minimum.
Be reasonable, Derville.
Does your money come so easily?
150,000, and that's a lot.
- 400,000. - No!
400,000, no!
180,000.
But, Madam...
What do you expect?
I reject these indecent claims.
But I want no lawsuit.
I know what I want.
For the Colonel to stay dead?
Then I'll go to court! I prefer that!
A lawsuit! I'm no pushover!
400,000 is fraud! It's madness!
Then let's go to court! I'll tell how I left you over a million!
And how you haggle over my revival.
That man is not Colonel Chabert.
I'll prove our intimacy.
Describe the secret marks on your body.
You want a suit? So do I!
She was in a brothel!
The first time I had her...
I bet 100 francs in a lottery and won her!
Don't rush off! I've a lot to say!
I want 420,000! And my rights!
By law, I've two days a month of conjugal rights.
Now I want them! Two days a month.
Two days. Two nights.
He's insane!
He should be locked up, put in a straitjacket!
Two days, two nights, like old times, Countess!
Like the brothel!
Courtrooms love to hear about sluts!|We'll see if I'm mad!
It's all over. Get to work. Not a word about this!
Your identity's proven. She blanched when she saw you.
Her pallor is worth an affidavit. Boucard, the Colonel's hat.
- A madhouse. I'll kill her. - You'll be caught and guillotined.
I'll take this medal and have your name engraved on it.
Forget about killing a woman you might miss.
That would be an unforgivable error.
Put on your hat.
I'm not mad, you know. It's criminal to say so!
Go home. I'll file the suit. We'll do fine.
Our terms stand. I want to see you happy.
Avoid traps. Agree to nothing, sign nothing without asking me.
Be wary. We have weapons and your wife knows it.
She knows it.
Come.
Please. Why hold back?
Sir, I recognized you.
Please understand.
How could I admit to my mistakes...
confess in front of all those people?
I did get your letters...
but a year after your death.
I'd already remarried. A month before.
You were my sole support.
I'd only been tolerated on your account.
Without you, I was nobody again.
Then I met Ferraud. He's been good to me.
Very good.
You got my letters.
But soiled, and scarcely legible.
I feared I was being tricked by a false Chabert.
Then...
a new family relieved my mourning.
You mourned me?
Where are you taking me?
To my country house in Groslay.
if you have the time to spare, we can decide what course to take.
It's my private retreat.
In Paris we know too many people.
We're always entertaining.
Count Ferraud's colleagues.
He's on the Council of State.
Prominent men, members of the Academy, judges.
No one comes here. It's peaceful.
Count Ferraud... likes to rest here.
The children love the place.
Count Ferraud designed the gardens himself.
- Don't you ever say "my husband"? - May I?
Delbecq, my steward. Knows the price of everything!
Colonel Chabert, the hero of... You know.
I need a few moments to give orders.
I want the children here early tommorrow.
It's been arranged, Madam. And the Colonel?
It's trickier than I expected.
Like it?
Yes.
It's beautiful.
Just what I'd have given you when I made general.
I'll sell it.
How do I get the 400,000 Derville's asking for?
Come. I'll show you your room.
You were sure I'd come here?
I hoped we'd already have reached an agreement.
Alas.
Why "alas"? It's easy to agree.
I doubted the whole world, Rose... You, myself.
Be reasonable!
You're still so lovely. Reasonable? Aren't we man and wife?
Even if the law's on your side, I'm no longer yours.
My heart's changed.
You mustn't love me like your wife.
I love someone else.
Life tore us apart, the harm's already done.
Why reopen old wounds?
I appeal to you.
Lieutenant.
You can take me by force.
But I love Ferraud...
and my children.
When Fate made me a widow...
I wasn't yet a mother.
So the dead are wrong to reappear.
I'll summon you when dinner's ready.
Nothing but my share.
And not even all of that.
You were part of it...
and I lost you.
You know how our luck changes in life.
Misfortunes occur, houses burn, sickness comes...
People die.
It's everyone's lot.
My lot is that I'm not dead.
I've had sickness, misfortune.
But my house didn't burn. It was stolen, and I nabbed the thief!
I just want half of what was in it.
In the house.
The solution's simple.
When...the bad news came...
I had to obey the law.
- So I went to a lawyer... - Roguin?
Yes. I drew up an inventory of your estate.
Life doesn't change as much as you say.
Countess Chabert, Countess Ferraud.
Scratch the polish and you find Rose Chapotel...
who sells a ten-cent object for three francs.
The inventory...
was checked, line by line.
Everything of value has vanished.
The tapestries...
the gold coins, the silver...
Josephine's punch bowl.
400,000, no!
How much?
180,000?
No.
300,000.
It's too much.
250,000.
I can't rob my children without further thought.
Ferraud's ambitious. I help him the best I can.
If you fleece me too...
200,000?
Well, let's see. What do I need?
A small house in the heartland. It's Boutin's region.
He'll give fencing lessons.
Rabbits, chickens...
fishing, firewood for winter...
a newspaper and my tobacco.
On 1000 a month I'll live like a prince.
Who can live on 1000 a month?
I haven't always had a hundredth of that.
Ten francs? No, not always.
Ten francs? Can you really?
Ten francs for a whole month?
No, you can't. But you survive.
And regret it.
You can very well regret living.
My God...
How you've changed.
You too.
Changed.
No more laughter?
With Ferraud... Do you laugh?
No.
I'm sure you don't, not even in bed.
I bet you play the Duchess...
with that dummy.
Still snickering.
You only know how to roughhouse women or laugh at them.
I won't give in.
Ferraud and you, two hounds in a pack biting at opposite sides.
Normally he'd protect me from you...
but when he hears you're back I'll read my doom in his eyes.
But you keep telling me you two are in love.
I am, yes!
He still pretends to be.
But women can read men like an open book.
An open book.
My God!
I'm so frightened!
Madam, the children have arrived.
I'll be right down.
The old man didn't sleep in his bed.
I saw him go out. His bed was still made.
All right.
He slept on top of it.
Here you are, Delbecq!
- What do I do about the Colonel? - We'll pay him off.
No. It's not the money. That can be arranged.
He's frightening.
It's a mask. I'm terrified.
He yields, looks away, I think I've won.
Then he looks back, and I see nothing's settled.
I find him affable.
Believe me, he's an ogre.
If he recovers his name and title, what then?
- If I may ask, has he given you up? - Yes. Today.
Then we've won.
No, it's a drunkard's oath.
On a whim, or bad advice, or his lust for women.
I saw the heron fly off.
I saw the nest.
Three eggs.
Eggs.
What comes out may not be a bird. It could be...
A snake, a turtle...
A dragon.
A dragon with two heads.
Take the children inside! Mathilde!
- But, Madam... - Take them inside. It's still too cold.
In Egypt there are big lizards called crocodiles...
that also come out of eggs.
Hurry!
You frighten them.
What's wrong?
It's nothing.
Weeping again?
I can see you are.
Delbecq said I was rash to bring you here without telling my husband.
If the Count learns, he may cast me off.
I won't tell him.
But my children saw you!
They'll talk.
They'll be taken from me.
I couldn't survive that.
I'd kill myself!
For me, it's settled. I thought it over last night.
I've made my decision. Don't worry.
Give me 12,000 francs a year...
plus a coach and horse, and that's that.
You mean...
You'll hear no more of your dead husband.
But...
you could change your mind...
tomorrow, or an hour from now.
Is that how you see me?
No.
I trust your generosity.
But your decision forces you into a vow of silence.
A permanent lie.
You're better off dead.
Death is gentler than you think.
They'll want proof of your good will.
I can't live waiting for you to reappear on some pretext.
You're not wicked, but you're so capricious.
Even before, you were thought of as weird, remember?
Your head wound must have accentuated that.
My word's not enough?
You want forms, stamps, seals, official edicts?
Then let's go back to Derville.
Why Derville?
If you agree, there's a lawyer here. We can settle it today.
Fine, so we'll use this lawyer.
He's very convenient, isn't he?
The silver? Yes, she always did that.
The Countess. Always.
"Before you die, make silver shine", they say.
"A token of friendship. Josephine."
The Empress. Her punch bowl.
A wedding gift.
Where's the Countess?
In her office, end of the hall.
- But her lawyer's with her. - I know. He's here for me.
This is...the cosigner.
Sir, the Countess has requested me...
to read you this agreement...
- It's already drawn up? - Lawyers know how.
All right. You may read it.
"On this June 14, 1817...
was made before Mr. Sarrazin, attorney in Montmorency...
with Marie Gratien and Leon Delbecq acting as witnesses...
the following agreement:
Countess Ferraud, born Rose Chapotel...
agrees to an annual payment to the cosigner...
until the death of either...
the sum of 12,000 francs...
in twelve equal parts of 1000 francs...
to be paid on the first day of each month.
In addition to this sum, Attorney Derville will receive...
a single flat fee of 2000 francs.
In return for this...
the cosigner agrees to renounce forever...
the usurped identity of Colonel Chabert...
which he admits he took fraudulently..."
How could you imagine I'd sign such a paper?
I wanted to see how far this sham would go.
I didn't think you could stoop so low.
- I told you I'd given up. - On the money, yes.
But your name's a threat. I need to be sure. What's in a name?
My name, Madam, is my honor.
Honor! What honor?
That of being a burden to society...
a madman who can't manage his life without help?
Madam...
I thank the fate that separated us.
I won't curse you. I despise you.
I don't even want revenge.
I want nothing from her.
She can believe my word's worth more than any lawyer's scribble.
I'll never claim the name I glorified and she dishonors.
Don't touch me!
Please understand. Without the children...
Without the children?
You'd be dead.
"She'd have loved to see me foam and scream the insults she deserved...
to give her a pretext to call me mad...
so she could have me locked away at Charenton.
Dear Mr. Derville...
I've suddenly contracted an incurable ailment:
Disgust with humanity.
You could scarcely measure my contempt for the world...
and the public life most men value.
Except for Boutin and you.
You listened and helped me more than a son might have done.
Now I'm returning underground.
I may not have shown you my gratitude for your kindness...
but I hold it prominently in my heart.
It reigns there, fully intact.
But what more can the unfortunate do?
They love, and that's all.
Good men like you put fine thoughts above fine clothes.
I fear no man's scorn.
Farewell, and thank you."
Death can strike a person without dissolving the family.
It can even enlarge the group...
by bringing forth unknown relatives.
But that's not your case.
All right.
Derville?
You didn't say you were coming.
I didn't come to see you, Madam.
Not you alone, in any case.
You wished to see me? - Yes, he's surprised me!
The latest list of new peers, Count.
I know.
Four idiots who passed me by.
They're young, Count. They'll be there a long time.
Gonpalet! He grew rich swindling under Napoleon...
he's led a life of debauchery. Mistresses, bastards...
But skill in corruption, wealth, and a knowledge of the law...
- You're here for that? - Indirectly, yes.
A possible connection.
A surprise.
A visit I received that you weren't told about...
though it offers us a way...
You're being mysterious. What's this about?
A way to do what?
A way, perhaps...
to reverse those unjust nominations.
- I don't see... - The peerage, Count.
Chabert is alive. I've seen him.
Chabert? Your first husband?
The dead have come back to life.
That's impossible!
He came to see me. It's him. There's a mass of proof.
Now's the time to decide, Armand.
If you drag me into court...
they'll have to declare him alive.
He's dropped his claims...
but this frees you from the chains of marriage. Isn't that right?
It's true that no one in France may have two wives...
or two husbands.
I mean, officially.
Incredible! You hid all this from me?
For how many days or weeks have you lied?
Lied?
Why lied?
I fought. Your raging desire to crawl toward the Throne.
The peerage! What misery it put me through!
All those smiles for people we both despised.
Those concerts, suppers, meetings.
Each one left you more distant from me.
The blame in your eyes...
the cold courtesy toward me, the obstacle to your ambition.
Without my money...
Countess...
Count...
I am at your disposal at all times.
Good day, Sister.
Your protegé is in the arcade today.
- Is he settling in? - Well, he's very docile.
Thank you, Sister.
Colonel Chabert, you look like a mere lieutenant.
No.
Not Chabert. Hyacinthe. Old Man Hyacinthe.
Number 164, room 7.
I brought you some country cheese.
- And white bread! - White? Say!
The Countess, your wife, is retiring to the country.
She still has a future.
White bread.
Nice!
Count Ferraud hints he'll wed...
the oldest Courcelle girl.
That will make him a Peer of France within two years.
I also brought a flask of red wine.
You saw the condemned man?
This wine...
is not as strong as last time.
And tobacco.
Good tobacco.
Chabert!
But I can describe Death.
Death is red, then blue.
And then it's cold.
Above all, it's silent.
Death is the silence of death.