Total Eclipse Page #4

than the f***ing bourgeoisie.

We should make a bargain.

You help me, and I'll help you.

If we go away together...

I'm sure you'll be able

to do good work again.

And when we've taken as much

as we can from each other...

we simply split up and move on.

And how would we live?

You have some money,

don't you?

I understand.

I help you by supporting you...

and you help me by renewing

my rusty old inspiration.

Is that it?

Not altogether.

Where have you been?

I thought I'd probably

just get in the way.

Don't shout.

You'll wake the baby.

Is it a boy?

Yes.

Funny-looking little bugger.

Don't.

All right.

All right.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Please.

Why not?

The baby was born.

- Isabelle!

- I didn't know you were coming.

Where is the mouth of darkness?

Mother? She's in

the fields with Vitalie.

- Do you want to see her?

- No.

Thanks.

Are you back for good?

For good I don't know.

For better or worse.

There's work to be done

in the fields.

There's work to be done here.

I thought you were

getting on well in Paris.

Verlaine's wife

started to make trouble.

What kind of trouble?

Threatening a divorce.

She thought we were spending

too much time together.

Spoiled rich girl, I suppose.

That's right.

This work you're doing...

is it the kind of thing

that will lead to anything?

I don't know.

Nevertheless,

it's the kind of work I do.

I don't suppose Paris

ever gets as exciting as this.

You look like a f***ing saint.

Except you haven't

got your halo.

I'll give you your halo.

He's back, isn't he?

I can't leave

Mathilde at the moment.

She's not very well.

I'm not surprised if you keep

setting fire to her.

I haven't set fire

to her since Thursday.

No, it's not very funny.

It's pathetic.

Your acts of violence

are always curiously disgusting.

What do you mean?

They're not clean.

You're always in

some sort of a drunken stupor.

Then you start

apologizing and groveling.

I don't like hurting people.

Then don't.

But if you do, do it coolly.

Don't insult your victims

by feeling sorry afterwards.

I love her, you see.

You can't possibly.

I love her body.

There are other bodies.

I love Mathilde's body.

But not her soul?

I think it's less important

to love the soul.

After all,

the soul may be immortal.

We have plenty

of time for the soul...

but flesh rots.

It's my love of flesh

which keeps me faithful.

Faithful.

What do you mean?

I'm faithful to all my lovers...

because once I love them...

I will always love them...

and when I'm alone

in the evening...

or in the early morning...

I close my eyes...

and I celebrate them all.

That's not faithfulness.

That's nostalgia.

If you don't want

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