Jacquou Le Croquant Page #3

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Don't forget to say your prayers.

Morning!

- Are you in charge here?

- Only recently.

It's the big spring wash.

Can you take my son?

lt'll be a break from farm work

and less far for him to walk.

Please.

All right. On one condition.

Don't mention your name.

I'm nursing the Count's

youngest daughter, Galiote.

- Agreed?

- Yes.

Come along.

Thank you.

Help carry those baskets.

Ten minute break!

Galiote!

Galiote!

I saw what you did.

You were very brave.

This is for you.

I couldn't find a smaller one.

Thanks.

You have a funny voice.

What's your name?

I know!

I know everything!

You're Jacquou!

Shut up and keep moving.

- Mayor, about my son...

- I'll fix it.

There you are!

I have good and bad news.

Good news

from your father's attorney.

He obtained a retrial.

Bad news, your father's dead.

Shot the first day,

trying to escape.

Some people don't change.

You there!

Watch out for my clothes!

Damn it!

Stop! Stay out of this.

What's he doing here?

A murderer's son!

Would the Count of Nansac

like seeing him

next to his daughter?

- I didn't know.

- Now you do!

Beat it!

Any comments? Speak up.

It'll be your last time.

Lina!

Back to work!

They killed him.

Come!

Swear, my son!

Swear to avenge your father

for as long as you and that thing

are still standing!

Swear to keep your word!

They couldn't break him down

so they killed him!

Let them fear him in death

as much as they feared him in life!

Curse you, vile creature!

Stone by stone!

One day you will crumble to dust!

Curse you for what you are!

Curse you!

Mama, can you hear me?

Come away or we'll freeze!

I'll take you home.

I'll be right back.

Leave everything to me.

I'm cold.

It's cold!

You'll be all right.

Stay, Jacquou.

Don't leave me.

I'll stay with you.

I'm cold.

That's better.

I feel better.

The storm has passed.

Tufty, do your eyes!

Charity, good people!

Charity for a soldier boy

slashed by an English sword.

For pity's sake! A crust

for my deaf and dumb brother,

a poor drummer boy

gelded by a Polish sword.

A penny for my brother, please!

No use.

They've all got hearts of stone.

There's no pity, only misery.

I'm sick of eating candles.

They bloat me up.

Got nothing to drink?

Come on.

Let's find a place to sleep.

I'll catch up. I'm tired.

You sure?

Let's go, Cockeye.

Papa, help me.

I've lost my strength.

I want to be with you two.

Strange! He's early.

Don't try to distract me.

Queen takes bishop, mate in five.

I'm doomed so easily?

And by a lady.

You don't say!

Let me see...

I'm going up, Father.

Good night, Sir Knight.

- See you tomorrow.

- Good night, Fantille.

Curate!

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