Stars, I am nothing but a lost girl, as I do not love the man who feeds me and as I accept his food, his words and his presence. He gave me thousands of presents, but from that man who adores me, each gift is a slap in my face. Stars, give me the one from whom each slap would be a gift to me. Whether he is tall or small, young or old, rich or poor, tell him that I am waiting for him. And you know that I will be what it takes to be.
If he is sick, I will look after him; if he is weak, I will feed him; if he is dirty, I will clean him. If he is learned, I will read all books; if he is a sailor, I will be able to wait for him and if he is a king, I will be a queen: for I am like water over which nothing bends, the source deprived of image and waiting for its reflection. And I am not asking to be adored.
Stars, please make me love him, only give him patience to bear my great love: for the noble and only treasure is not the love you inspire, it is the love that your heart is filled with.
But tell him to come soon, for I am out of courage, for the desire to love is choking me and for the nights of my youth are so dark with his absence. He did not come today.
Give him the message tonight, and please make him come tomorrow.
This was my prayer to the stars. They did not answer me. And you, I hold it against you for all the love you feel for me. At least you know what the pain of love feels like. I do not...
Sometimes you hate me, Florence...
Maybe I do.
Sometimes you hate me... Sometimes, for nothing, you scared me... You, deep down so good and gentle, sometimes I have seen your eyes gleaming with the gaze of a wild animal...
FLORENCE (She is very quiet now)
I once knew a farmer who had raised a little fox. He had bottle-fed it, kindly, tenderly... and the fox would never leave him, it would even sleep in his bed. One day, he decided to have another one and set a trap. It was a large trap with strong jaws and sharp teeth entering into each other....
He set it properly and, one evening, he caught a beautiful vixen, a long and red-haired vixen who was gnawing its leg to set itself free. When he saw from afar that it was trapped, he felt very proud of his skill and ran towards it. He knew it was wounded, but it was lying on its wound and no blood could be seen.
It remained still and silent, and all full of its pain.
He approached it, the fool, and bent down to put a collar round its neck. It bit him on the throat, he lost blood all night.
In the morning, he died over it, but it was dead underneath him.
You see, when you set traps, you only catch fierce animals.
But, how should you do when you love a fierce animal?
Fierce animals do not exist: traps create them."
Producer: Les Films Marcel Pagnol.
Production manager: Alexis Plumet.
Script, dialogues and direction: Marcel Pagnol.
Visuals: André Thomas.
Set: Robert Giordani.
Music: Raoul Moretti.
Continuity girl: Martine Mouneyres
Portrait and still cameraman: Henri Moiroud.
Editing: Jeannette Ginestet.
Pierre Blanchar - Pierre Florent Josette Day - Florence Julien Carette - Frédéric, son frère Pauline Carton - Fernande, leur mère Jean Chevrier - Dominique de Ravel André Alerme - Albert Chazel Fernand Charpin - Evariste, patron de l'hôtel des Calanques Milly Mathis - Bonne de l'hôtel Auguste Mouries - Aurèle Bidou, le syndic Jean Castan - Pétugue Line Noro - Mlle Reverdy Margueritte Moreno - La voyante Jean Toulout - ... Jane Marken - ... Marcel André - ... Françoise Thurin - ...
Florence meets Pierre at the Foire du Trône. They vow eternal love and move to Cassis under the Southern sun. Yet, the young woman is used to be supported. Her guardian, Dominique, withdraws tactfully. But Pierre, an uncompromising man, is prepared to spoil everything. However, Florence's gentleness and pure love for him eventually will soothe his anger.