杰瑞发布于2022-11-25
- FADE IN:
From the BLACKNESS before the first images, we hear a young woman's tortured SCREAM, muffled by her own will. We see her mouth, open in agony; her face, beaded with sweat. Her name is ANNE, and she is Queen of France. She lies in A ROYAL BEDCHAMBER The royal DOCTOR kneels at the foot of her bed; her own royal mother grips her hands... On the opposite side of the huge bedchamber, and separated from the queen's bed by an artistically painted screen, are royal ADVISORS sweating and anxious for any word to take to their king. They wince as the Queen moans again in the pain of childbirth.从第一张照片前的黑暗中,我们听到了一位年轻女子被自己的意志所压抑的痛苦的尖叫。我们看到她痛苦地张大嘴巴;她的脸上布满了汗珠。她叫安妮,是法国女王。她躺在皇家床上。皇家医生跪在她的床脚;她自己的皇室母亲紧握着她的双手。。。在巨大的卧房的对面,与女王的床被一块艺术画的屏风隔开,王室顾问们汗流浃背,急切地想和他们的国王说句话。当女王在分娩的痛苦中再次呻吟时,他们退缩了。 TIME DISSOLVE: EXT. ESTABLISHING THE ISLAND FORTRESS PRISON - DAY On a gash of rock thrusting upward from the sea along the southern coast of France stands an island fortress, a prison, like an Alcatraz of the Mediterranean. Just off a coastline renowned for its beauty, the fortress is horrible and foreboding. As we SUPERIMPOSE: 1662 TWENTY-TWO YEARS LATER INT. THE FORTRESS PRISON With the camera as our moving POV, we survey the prison. It is a horrible place: dungeons where prisoners lie in their own filth; corners where jailers rut with unresisting captive women; long twisting corridors lined with cells, from which prisoners whimper, or moan in madness. Up a long winding staircase our POV moves; we push through the barred window of a cell... It is somewhat cleaner than the rest of the places we've seen, but still a prison. We PAN the cell.- PARIS:
EXT. PARIS STREET - NIGHT Through the narrow streets of the old city gallops a dashing figure, his cloak flying behind him and catching the moonlight, his horse's hooves clattering along the cobblestones as he dodges the beggars living in the filthy shadows. He is a magnetic sight, riding the horse as easily as if they were racing across an open field and not through a cluttered street, and guiding the stallion as if its grace and power came not from the animal but from the rider. OUTSIDE THE CATHEDRAL D'Artagnan rides into the courtyard of a grand old residence beside Notre Dame Cathedral. Priests are dispensing food to beggars gathered in the courtyard. As d'Artagnan reins his horse to a stop the wretched people stare with contempt at the royal symbols on his uniform. But d'Artagnan is not a man anyone would be quick to confront; as he dismounts and moves toward the doorways the people part for him.