My dear, sweet little Marquise...
You ask for news of my nephew,
or should I say of your bet.
As Madame de Tourvel did not answer his letters,
Valmont had decided to bump into her,
by the most extraordinary of coincidences,
-at Dalbert et Contini's shop. -It's her.
He had planned one of his secret fiery declarations.
Excuse me.
-But his prey had fled. -Excuse me.
-Before he could open his mouth. -Madame?
Rumors of his failures spread through Paris,
delighting his enemies,
and I'm afraid his reputation won't survive this.
You must be pleased.
Tourvel resists.
Victory is yours.
And soon, our proud viscount will have no choice
but to admit defeat.
Cécile!
I didn't want to interrupt.
More bad news from poor Valmont.
-You look thrilled. -I should be even happier.
Tourvel's pride is unbearable, and at the same time...
-Do you want to see Valmont succeed? -On my terms, yes.
Do you think she likes him?
This woman likes men.
I'll take care of it.
Marquise.
What a wonderful coincidence.
I have to talk to you, and I feared you would refuse my invitation.
I've been to your house before.
I was watching you earlier.
-I thought you were sincere. -I was.
I lack your devotion, Madame.
But I did have a certain upbringing
And God...
God remains for me an occasional partner.
So, Madame, can I count on your presence by my side?
Grant me this favor and I'll give you what I always denied your husband.
What?
My confession!
I'd add that without ever bragging,
Valmont has always been extremely generous toward the less fortunate.
Am I boring you, Madame?
On the contrary...
But since we're alone, girl-to-girl, I thought...
you were going to tell me of his other qualities.
Is he really the most wonderful of lovers?
I didn't think I'd manage to shock you!
I hope you don't mind.
I'm learning how to play your game.
My game?
Isn't this how you and the rest of your tribe have chosen to live?
By playing.
But there's a limit to this game.
And I'd even say there's a rule.
One rule and one rule only.
Please.
Conceding defeat.
But a defeat of a very enjoyable kind,
because it's all about giving in to your own desire.
Since you seem to think that
resisting your friend Valmont is a struggle for me...
You are God's last line of defense against corruption.
Forever saintly, Madame de Tourvel.
Could it be that, one day,
you'll find yourself weary of playing this noble character?
And aren't you tired of wearing that crown, Princess Libertine?
-My status offers a few pleasures. -I don't believe you, Marquise.
-You don't believe in pleasure. -I don't believe in power.
Your beauty is a formidable, but ephemeral weapon.
It might win you a few battles, but you'll lose the war.
I'm so happy! We agree on what matters.
A secret war is at work.
You a saint. Me a whore. We wear our armor and masks for one reason,
to better manipulate men.
That's a rather hopeless view of mankind.
On the contrary, you're wrong.
I love my era, I embrace it and I want to conquer it completely.
But what do you expect?
Losing my faith will lead me straight to Valmont?
You're one of those people who...
madly need to love and be loved.
And if your husband is no longer enough for you,
Valmont will know how to take you and reveal you...
You love yourself much more than you love God, Madame.
And you need forbidden experiences.
I was like you before I became who I am.
And I'm telling you, only giving in to your desires
will give you the key to yourself.
Sorry.
My answer to your question was a bit long.
My question?
"Is Valmont the most wonderful of lovers?"
Monsieur le Comte de Gercourt, Madame.
-Madame. -What a sweet surprise, dear Comte.
-I come in the name of peace. -Peace?
A Pax Libertina.
I'm tired of our bickering and I miss the time when we were still friends.
You never come to see me anymore,
and my house seems so empty without you.
What an exaggeration.
But keep going. It's very pleasant.
You know what everyone says at Versailles?
-That the King is bored. -Is that so? How sad.
Rumor has it he longs to leave the palace and venture into the city.
But I can't do anything on my own.
I need your help.
Let me serve you as I once did.
Haven't we done great things? Paris was at our feet.
I'd like you to remember who we were, who you were.
There wasn't a powerful figure whose secrets we didn't know.
You've destroyed that forever.
No. There's still time.
If only we could bring back the golden days of Paris.
Yes.
However...
I need to be sure your commitment to the Pax Libertina is sincere.
I can't take your word for it. I need a gesture, or rather a sacrifice.
Forget your little protégée, the Marquise de Merteuil.
People are tired of her arrogance and taste for domination.
I can't help you if you don't walk away from her.
That's all you wanted from me.
Isabelle is like a daughter to me!
She can't win.
Hatred has driven her mad.
Soon her nasty deeds will be known to the Court.
If we don't stop her now, she'll end up in the hands
of the Versailles fanatics.
They'll use her as an opportunity to attack us.
And that'll be the end of it, Madame.
The end of the freedom we have so ardently fought for.
-Deceitful. -What?
You heard me!
How dare you talk to me about freedom!
You feel it, don't you? The tide has turned.
Every time, you've tried to harm her, Isabelle has humiliated you.
-Soon she'll defeat you for good-- -Enough is enough!
How dare you?
I'm taking the time and trouble to speak to you with respect.
Don't make me hurt you.
No! No! No!
Your smell, your skin...
There's only one way to make peace.
Come in!
Your carriage is ready, Madame.
Very well. I'm done with Monsieur le Comte.
Madame.
Do you remember Monsieur le Chevalier de Danceny?
Mademoiselle de Volanges' young fiancé.
Fiancé? Nothing official yet.
The poor kid doesn't even own his own instrument
and has to prepare an audition.
I'd forgotten I'd invited him to rehearse here tonight.
I hope you won't mind.
Thank you.
I'm exhausted, I'm going to sleep, but please stay.
I'm going up too.
Good night, Madame.
Do you like her?
Madame, I only agreed to come here tonight out of friendship.
What friendship?
We're partners, my dear Chevalier.
It's been that way since our first day.
You need money and I need your charms.
You forget the most important thing, since we met,
-Cécile has come into my life -Cécile? Yes, I know.
Starting tomorrow, you'll once again have the joy of loving her to death.
Rest assured, you'll be able to count on me as your partner and friend.
But as for tonight...
You will knock on Madame de Tourvel's door.
You'll explain your doubts.
And that profound sense of confusion she causes in you.
How you hate yourself for forgetting Cécile.
Let her talk to you,
explain to you that you must turn to God
or some other childish thing.
Listen to her, again and again...
for a long time...
Just be yourself. Perfect.
As long as you're in her room, anything's possible.
And I believe that before dawn, she'll be yours.
Remember, Chevalier, by helping me, you're helping Cécile.
Without me, Cécile would already be Gercourt's wife.
You acted out of the goodness of your heart. I thank you.
I acted as I always do, because I had to.
Come on. This woman's a real treat,
and I could have asked for a far less enjoyable favor.
Come on!
No, Madame, I'd rather lose Cecile than betray her.
Do as you please.
My dearest Marquise,
Your silence confirms my worst fears.
I believed you to be in love, but I was mistaken.
You are the prey of the most violent of poisons, pride.
Your sole focus should be Gercourt.
We must prepare your defense, yet you waste your attention on Tourvel,
who matters not in the slightest.
All for pride, by vanity, you are playing, Madame,
when you ought to be fighting.
Neither you nor Valmont are in control any longer,
I see you both lost in the very labyrinth you have built.
Madame.
How are you?
I don't want to play anymore.
You've won.
And that's fine.
I don't recognize you.
Valmont bet me he could seduce you.
And I myself am the price of this wager.
I don't understand.
So if he wants me, it's because he loves you.
Loves me? Are you really that blind?
He never loved me. But he loves you.
It's unfair, but that's how it is.
You think libertinage is just a game?
Not for Valmont. Not anymore.
His philosophy of life became his prison and his hell.
He hides from the world, ashamed of what he is now,
weak, and in love.
So he came up with this ridiculous bet...
for the sole purpose of hiding his feelings.
You may choose not to love him back, Madame,
but please, don't pretend you don't see it.
My Rosemonde, my guardian angel, I'd forgotten,
the art of manipulation is nothing without the appropriate use of truth.
I know what I am doing.
That's why I took the risk of telling Madame de Tourvel
about the bet between myself and your nephew.
That's how I managed to pass on to her that crazy illusion,
without which, she'd remain impregnable forever...
Valmont's absolute love for her.
"When she leaves her home,
her eyes are struck only by pleasant objects.
When she enters, she finds even sweeter ones.
She sees everywhere what pleases her heart,
and this soul, so insensitive to self-love..."
But to accept becoming what she was made for,
she, like so many other mediocre beings,
needed to believe she was loved.
I welcomed home a triumphant woman.
And I let go a woman without support or compass,
consumed by the most dreaded of viruses,
the fear of missing oneself.
Great to see you again.
I am told that Danceny is causing you concern.
I love him so much.
Mademoiselle Cécile de Volanges.
Forget him.
-I beg your pardon? -Your Chevalier.
Forget him.
Give him your body or use his whenever you feel like it.
But don't let him occupy your mind a second longer.
Danceny is a boy.
While you...
you're a woman.
Mademoiselle Cécile de Volanges.
I love you so much, Madame.
If only I could find a way to show you how grateful I am.
One day perhaps.
So?
His hatred for you is unlike anything I've seen.
Gercourt? I don't care about that.
What can he possibly do to me?
Believe me, he could be ask the King for your head.
Isabelle.
First thing tomorrow, you must write to your husband.
Tell him you miss him dearly and beg for his quick return.
You need him.
-Or rather, his protection. -If he returns, I lose everything.
Your exile will be short-lived. And it will secure your future.
My future or yours, Madame?
Am I not allowed to protect myself?
I've reached an age when I long for peace.
I fought too long for my reputation for it to be shattered now.
Can't you hear yourself?
It's nonsense. You ask me to sacrifice my freedom
for fear of losing yours!
Isn't that the very definition of cowardice?
I don't recognize you anymore. You were the first.
Philosophy won't save us now!
I'll never give up my freedom. Do you hear?
Never!
Madame.
Please.
Isabelle told me all about it.
Your bet.
I'll never hide anything from you again.
My respects, Madame la Marquise.
We are with you in your grief, Madame.
The whole regiment shares your pain.
Your husband was an example and a light for us all.
What happened?
Right up to the end, your magnificent husband would have been...
An example and a light for us all.
How did he die?
In the run-up to the terrible and furious fighting,
as the enemy troops gathered
on the Livingstone's shores, having established a battle plan
which, despite our numerical inferiority,
enabled us to contain the British offensive.
Preparation?
Your husband was an example and a light for us all, Madame.
Send for Madame de Rosemonde.
Take this painting off the wall, and put it elsewhere.
My pain is too great.
-Perhaps in time... -Yes, Madame.
Madame, I'm glad to see you again.
I just heard about your husband.
My only consolation is to know he was an example and a light for all of us.
Of course.
Monsieur, don't make me pretend to mourn this scoundrel.
Let me look at you.
Success suits you.
Tell me about it.
Last night, when she had barely entered my home,
I was so impatient to enjoy my victory,
so fearful of seeing her escape,
that I consumed my prey quickly, in a few brief, voracious bites.
I regretted my haste, certain that once the pleasure had passed,
shame would overwhelm saintly Madame de Tourvel
and make her disappear forever.
But it wasn't to be.
The fire continued in my room, as the hours passed in the night.
She was still in my arms just a few hours ago.
As if Madame de Tourvel had been made for love for all eternity.
So you love her?
That night, I loved her like a demon. I never stopped thinking about you.
You were there, everywhere, all the time.
What's going on, Madame?
It's not finished.
"And that's why, Madame, this night can never happen again.
I wish you the best.
You deserve it.
I will always keep this memory."
No. No, Vicomte.
This story of imperishable memories.
Poor thing, she's likely to keep her hopes up.
No, you have to put her out of her misery.
I convinced her you're in love. It's my fault.
What can I say? She needed that nonsense so badly.
Write. Write!
"That what I loved about you was your purity.
You disappointed me.
Goodbye."
Admit it. You only loved her because she resisted.
Then write.
Very well. Sign.
Send this letter to Madame de Tourvel.
-Take off your clothes. -What's the matter with you?
I want to take a long look at you first.
I want to watch your body... before watching you come.
Surely, we've moved past that insane little bet by now.
If I'd won, would you have shut yourself away in a monastery?
Whatever, Madame, you lost. I won.
You didn't win. And I didn't lose.
I am the one who conquered Madame de Tourvel.
You enjoyed it, didn't you?
Well, I'm delighted to hear that.
You are my friend.
I'll do anything to help you again, however much I can.
You gave your word, Madame. Have you no honor?
My word?
The past has taught me to be wary of words and promises.
So it was all about revenge?
After all we've been through together...
was it all for this?
This humiliation. This cruelty.
I don't believe it.
You're like poor Madame de Tourvel.
You believe in one thing, then another, then another.
Deep down, you're a dreamer.
Come on, Sébastien. It was just a game.
You should go find her.
Unless you're afraid she'll never forgive you for your letter.
"At this last awakening, my terror was so strong
that I could not overcome it when awakened.
I threw myself down from my bed, not knowing what I was doing.
I began to wander around the room,
frightened like a child in the shadows of the night,
believing to see me surrounded by ghosts,
and my ears still struck by that plaintive voice
whose sound I never heard without emotion.
As twilight began to illuminate objects,
it only transformed them to suit my troubled imagination.
My fear redoubled and took away my judgment.
After finding my door with difficulty,
I fled from my room..."
Come in please.
Do you know Maréchal Castelet?
-Madame. -Monsieur.
My friend is about to be promoted to the King's Council of Justice.
I owe you so much, Monsieur.
As you know, the Kingdom of France is not England.
Power always seems to reside ultimately in the hands of the King.
Word of the Vicomte de Valmont's triumph with Madame de Tourvel
has already spread to Versailles,
and the religious zealots are outraged,
complaining loud enough to disturb the King's peace.
Valmont must be publicly sanctioned.
-My nephew is beyond reproach. -Of course, the Vicomte is smart.
He did his best to cover up all his faults,
and ensure the silence of witnesses, except this time.
-You're lying. -No, Madame.
I'm afraid this matter concerns to you too.
The marriage between the Vicomte and Isabelle Dassonville,
who became Marquise de Merteuil.
This case was handled by Judge de Tourvel.
I must warn you, Madame, we have evidence incriminating you directly.
However, if you agree to speak to the court,
I can make sure there are no consequences for you.
But if not,
you will be humiliated and banished. As for your nephew...
Monsieur.
In the name of our old friendship--
Don't worry.
We can imagine a trial that would be so modest and discreet that...
your nephew will come out of this with a pain he can overcome,
such as a retreat of several months in a prison
where everything will be done to ensure that
his comfort is commensurate with his status.
At the same time, it will be established that Isabelle,
having married the Marquis de Merteuil, was guilty of bigamy,
and that this noble alliance was nothing but a deception.
Isabelle would lose her title and all her possessions.
At least we can rejoice that the poor Marquis de Merteuil
can no longer witness this decline.
You're asking me to betray my nephew and my dear friend.
I'm not asking you anything.
What we're offering you here...
Sacrifice the prestige of your precious friend.
A woman you didn't even know a few months ago.
For one and the same cause...
to save your situation and the very life of your nephew.
What is your horse's name?
-César. -It's very beautiful.
My dear Cécile, you are beautiful.
Isabelle?
Madame la Marquise sent me.
Translated by Iyuno