Marat\Sade Page #3

And something quite different to me...

But now I'm aware

that I was blind...

And now I can see

into your mind...

And so I say no...

...and I go

to murder you, Marat...

And free all mankind...

Simonne!

Simonne!

More cold water. Change my bandage.

Oh, this itching is unbearable.

Jean-Paul, don't scratch yourself,

you'll tear your skin to shreds...

...give up writing, Jean-Paul,

it won't do any good.

My call. My fourteenth of July call

to the people of France.

Jean-Paul, please be more careful,

look how red the water's getting.

And what's a bath full of blood

compared to the bloodbaths still to come?

Once we thought a few hundred

corpses would be enough...

...then we saw thousands

were still too few...

...and today we can't

even count all the dead.

Are there any of

our enemies left anywhere?

Everywhere,

everywhere you look.

There they are. Up on the rooftops.

Down in the cellars. Behind the walls. Hypocrites!

They wear the people's cap on their heads,

but their underwear's embroidered with crowns...

...and if so much as a shop gets looted

they squeal:
"Beggars, villains, gutter rats!"

Simonne, my head's on fire.

I can't breathe.

There is a rioting mob inside me.

Simonne!

I am the Revolution.

Corday's first visit.

I have come to speak

to Citizen Marat.

I have an important message for him

about the situation in Caen, my home...

...where his enemies are gathering.

We don't want any visitors.

Nous voulons la paix.

If you've got anything

to say to Marat...

...put it in writing.

What I have to say

cannot be said in writing.

I...

...want...

...to stand...

...in front of him and...

...look at him.

I want...

...to see his body tremble

and his forehead...

...bubble with sweat.

I want to thrust right

between his ribs...

...the dagger which I carry

between my breasts.

I shall...

...take the dagger...

...in both hands and...

...push it...

...through his flesh,

and then I shall hear...

...what he has to say...

...to me.

Not yet, Corday.

You must come to

his door three times.

Song and mime of

Corday's arrival in Paris!

Charlotte Corday

came to our town...

Heard the people talking,

saw the banners wave...

Weariness had almost

dragged her down...

Weariness had dragged her down...

Charlotte Corday had to be brave...

She could never stay

at comfortable hotels...

Had to find a man

with knives to sell...

Had to find a man with knives...

Charlotte Corday

passed the pretty stores...

Perfume and cosmetics,

powders and wigs...

Unguent for curing syphilis sores...

Unguent for curing sores...

She saw a dagger...

Its handle was white...

Walked into the cutlery seller's door...

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