Marat\Sade Page #2

Screaming in language

that no one understands...

Of rights that we grabbed

with our own bleeding hands...

When we wiped out the bosses

and stormed through the wall...

Of the prison they told us

would outlast us all...

Marat, we're poor

and the poor stay poor...

Marat, don't make

us wait anymore...

We want our rights

and we don't care how...

We want our revolution...

Now...

The Revolution...

...came and went...

...and unrest was replaced

by discontent.

Who controls the markets?

Who locks up the granaries?

Who got the loot

from the palaces?

Who sits tight on the estates that were

going to be divided between the poor?

Who keeps us prisoner?

Who locks us in?

We're all normal

and we want our freedom.

- Freedom.

- Freedom.

Freedom. Freedom.

Monsieur de Sade.

It appears I must act

as the voice of reason.

What's going to happen when right at the start

of the play the patients are so disturbed?

Please keep your production

under control.

Times have changed,

times are different...

...and these days we should take

an objective view of old grievances.

They are... uh...

part of history.

And history, I might add...

...history is not simply the story of

the undisciplined common people.

Let us consider, instead,

true history:
..

...the exemplary lives of the men

who made France great.

Here sits Marat,

the people's choice...

...dreaming and listening

to his fever's voice.

You see his hand

curled round his pen...

...and the screams from

the street are all forgotten.

He stares at the map of France,

eyes marching from town to town...

...while you wait...

Corday, Corday.

Corday!

...while you wait for this woman

to cut him down.

And none of us...

And none of us...

And none of us can alter the fact,

do what we will...

...that she stands outside Marat's door...

...ready and poised to kill.

Poor...

...Marat...

...in your bathtub, your body

soaked saturated with poison.

Poison spurting

from your hiding place...

...poisoning the people, arousing them

to looting and murder.

Marat...

...I have come, I,

Charlotte Corday, from Caen...

...where a huge army

of liberation is massing...

...and, Marat, I come

as the first of them...

...Marat.

Once both of us saw

the world must go...

And change as we read

in great Rousseau...

But change meant

one thing to you I see...

And something quite different to me...

The very same words

we both have said...

To give our ideals

wings to spread...

But my way was true...

While for you...

The highway led over

mountains of dead...

Once both of us spoke

a single tongue...

Of brotherly love

we sweetly sung...

But love meant

one thing to you I see...

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes