Presents a film of 1951 production
THE YOUTH OF CHOPIN
based on short stories by
Written and Directed by
In Cooperation with
Dialogue Lines by
Music Editor
Cinematography
Cameraman
Set Designer
In Cooperation with, Consultation
Costume Designer
Sound Recording
Production Manager
Cast Of Characters
Music
Performed by
Hey, is this Prince
Jablonowski's palace?
Not the Sultan's,
of course.
Drive up closer!
Lullaby, sweet Jesus,
pearl very precious,
Lullaby, sweet Jesus,
sleep now, hush your cries.
What a dreamy beauty
he possesses.
If I didn't know the family,
I'd swear he has
the bluest blood in his veins.
Skarbeks' tutor first, his father
is a lyceum professor now.
No wonder the son
is so well-mannered.
Is it true, Your Excellency,
that His Imperial Majesty
has departed this world?
Who dares spread
such rumours?
Why do you, Prince, turn to me?
Who may know better
than the Secret Delegate
Novosiltsov?
A latent drunk rather.
Don't I know what
they call me in Warsaw?
Be honest, Excellency,
don't you pity His
Imperial Majesty?
No. No order has been
sent to pity him.
What if the news of
his passing is true
and Russian conspirators
start a revolution?
The Russians: Rileyev,
Muraviev and Pestel
demand a clear answer
what a future
government we imagine.
We'll continue as
a constitutional monarchy.
They don't want to get rid
of the czarist tyranny,
only to enthrone
a Polish king.
Some of them
are Republicans.
A Republic? And then
to abolish the serfdom
of peasants, as Lelewel
would have it, dreaming
of a Jacobinic overthrow.
That would spell the end of nobility,
the most splendid Polish estate.
Should we, of our own will,
be guillotined by an overthrow?
On the contrary.
We must not let
the conspirators
to move too far to push
our pitiful Republicans
and demagogues to the fore.
At least this is my task
in the conspiracy.
Muraviev demands
an answer if the Poles
will rise once the Russians start
a revolution against the czar.
Exactly. Major Lunin is
waiting with vital news
to talk to the Central
Committee.
The major is trustworthy.
We can talk to him.
Czar Alexander has died.
A revolution in Petersburg.
- Is that sure?
- Absolutely.
Poland has only two
roads to take now:
To rise against the new czar
along with the revolution,
or to remain in slavery.
Alexander's successor
will forgive neither
Russians or Poles,
depriving you and us
of everything:
freedom, land,
and all property.
Been looking for you
everywhere, Prince.
Once you're with us,
you suddenly disappear.
You're too much intrigued
by His Majesty
and the developments
in the empire in general.
- I know nothing about a revolution.
- What revolution do you mean?
Where the hell have
you found out?!
Your Excellency seems
to forget you're my guest.
And you, Your Highness,
may be mine tomorrow...
behind the walls of
the Carmelites.
You're risking
your name and estate.
You're playing a losing hand.
We've already suppressed
the Petersburg revolution
- and now it's...
- Go ahead, Your Excellency.
In this game, as you call it,
we're partners on
the same side of the table.
A revolution in Poland deprives you
of power, me - of my nobility,
peasants and the land my family
has possessed for centuries.
I know about it and you
shouldn't forget it,
Monsieur...
Halt!
Whom are you driving?
This is Prince Jablonowski's carriage.
We're taking the prince's guest home.
By the order of the Police
Chief we check who's riding.
I'm Frdric Chopin.
Auburn hair...
elongated face...
long nose...
- A long nose.
- Kchelbecker!
Stop feigning,
Kchelbecker.
You're wanted
for mutiny against
His Imperial Majesty.
What are you hiding there?
I didn't want them
to freeze,
but my name is Chopin.
Chopin?
When speaking,
Kchelbecker twists his mouth.
Age 30...
I'm sorry. We have to check.
Didn't I tell you:
our Prince's guest.
Drive on, stupid.
There're many such today
who say one thing but keep
plotting mutinies on the side.
Gee up!
Who's there?
Open up to let
a lost soul in.
Who is it? In plain words.
A rebel.
Bless my soul.
Zuzka, it's me. Open the door.
- What me?
- Frdric.
God knows.
Rebels have no entry.
All right, Zuzka. It's me.
I don't know you.
Godspeed.
Are you crazy, girl?!
It's me... Frdric...
Hello. May I have the honour
of offering my respects
to my dearest mother?
Was the young lady
polite and didn't cough?
That's what you taught me.
Do I bow well?
- Where's dad?
- Entertaining guests,
- Prof. Linde and Prof. Eisner.
- Eisner?
How did they like your
piano at the Prince's?
Can you imagine? Gendarmes stopped
the prince's carriage bringing me,
looking for one
Kchelbecker, a rebel.
- Kchelbecker?
- They're downright crazy!
So they'll soon look for
rebels at the university,
or even in my music school.
Which Prof. Bentkowski
will explain in his lectures
as being in line
with human development.
World history has shown
that the class differences
in a community
stem from
the nature of things.
The lower class, rabble,
throughout the times,
in all nations is not
reason-oriented,
but driven by emotions...
Have you heard?
Across the river, the Russian poet
Kchelbecker was caught yesterday.
A conspirator against
the czar, he had to flee
once the Petersburg
revolution was suppressed.
Kchelbecker?
They were looking for him,
as I was returning from the Prince.
The Russian rebels are
said to have had their men
in Konstanty's Warsaw regiments.
Major Lunin is said to have been
arrested and Jablonowski has turned in
Castellan Soltyk
and Colonel Pradzynski.
The prince has turned traitor?
Please tell me if the French
Revolution was before
or after Jesus was born.
Well?
Before, Sir!
Merriment doesn't bespeak
a knowledge of world history.
Yes, please...
I'm talking to you.
Approach the lectern!
Sir, that's how I was admonished
in lower grades in school.
Prof. Lelewel treats us
quite differently.
What? Lelewel?
Is this a lesson in manners?!
Boor!
Mind your language! We won't
suffer an insult from anyone.
Silence! I'll teach you
to forget your asinine jokes.
Silence!
Someone from the board
of education! Quick!
Has Magnuszewski
come to see you?
- No.
- Where can he be?
At the choir rehearsal,
perhaps. What happened?
I was with Wolowski
when they came to arrest him.
They found secret
diaries of Kilinski on him.
- And?
- Barcikiewicz had him
- detained at the Carmelites.
- Barcikiewicz.
Don't you know our judges want to appear
as fervently conformist as can be?
Let's warn Magnuszewski.
They might arrest him after
the row at the lecture.
A handful of Poles
were marching home,
to their native grounds.
As soon as the folks
glimpsed
the white-and-red banners,
Tell Magnuszewski
Wolowski has been jailed.
The town thundered
with joyous shouts:
Wolowski was arrested
for refusing to be insulted!
To the judge's apartment!
Let's go!
Police!
Police!
You'll catch a cold...
my heavenly weakling...
Where does this road lead?
Where to?
Marymont's textile mill,
to get a job.
Up there straightaway
to Marymont.
The general results
in theory of music,
counterpoint and composition
from the grammatical,
rhetorical
and aesthetic angles,
first year
Frdric Chopin -
special ability,
and second year
Ignacy Dobrzynski -
extraordinary ability.
- Frdric!
- Frdric!
Frdric. Is he away?
Why so down in the dumps?
Because rather than you,
Eisner distinguished
Dobrzynski?
Look, he wants to write
his well-rounded phrases
for the whole orchestra.
Yet what can I juxtapose?
One poor piano?
I'm sick and tired of
hearing that no one
has yet composed great
things for the piano alone.
- Have you heard Dobrzynski's scherzo?
- Yes.
It's nothing. Well-rounded
and smooth like a...
Well-rounded and smooth,
like a... say it.
Whereas all music greats say
that scherzo should be
just a joke and nothing else.
But can't a joke feature
tragic overtones,
like in Shakespeare.
Don't the comic and tragic
intertwine in life?
Let Dobrzynski blare with
all orchestras in the world.
He doesn't have a word or
a note of truth.
I like Zuzka's simple folk
song a hundred times better.
She always eavesdrops while I play.
I can't teach her not to.
Not true. All I wanted was
to dust off the door.
Come, sing us that song
Hey, don't walk around the cart...
Sing it, darn it!
Don't you walk
around the wagon,
Don't you walk
around the axle,
Don't give the boy a kiss
no matter how he pleads.
Don't you give the boy a kiss,
no matter how he pleads.
Look, let's sing it
in a caf.
Dobrzynski may be there.
All the literary and musical
stuffed shirts will be furious.
Don't you walk
around the wagon,
Don't you walk
around the axle,
Don't you give the boy a kiss
no matter how he pleads.
Romantic music
to the rescue.
Come here, Chopin!
That's it!
Mr. Chopin has
hit the nail on the head.
This is the new art
you Romantics fight for.
Don't you give the boy a kiss
Are you paying attention,
gentlemen?
No matter how he pleads.
Yes, Sir.
We prefer the simple
and bawdy folk song
to your romances by
Mme de Genlis and Mme Cottin...
- Our Mickiewicz...
- We read French novels,
as our mother tongue
is unable to render
the delicate feeling
of love play.
Don't you agree,
Romantics,
that your friend
Mickiewicz has a gift?
Why then does he look
for folk tales
to piece together his
poems for female cooks?
Mickiewicz -
for female cooks,
and Polish songs -
Frdric - for cart drivers?
Maybe just for the nation
that you don't see,
the one that's rising
from the commoners?
Nation! Rabble!
Mr. Lelewel,
for God's sake, why this
politics
in literary discussions?
The scholar and the poet
must be fully convinced
they have been created
for the community.
Why this conviction?
Literature is good taste.
Music is temperance
and a higher notion
of harmony.
I don't find them
in folk jingles.
Let Mr. Mickiwicz be a provincial bard,
but not here in Warsaw.
They judge differently
in the world.
Here's Moscow's 'Telegraph',
which writes -
let me translate for you -
"The readers will find here
the news of a new
beautiful turn in Polish poetry,
about Adam Mickiewicz,
whom all of Poland
is reading with admiration..."
"This young poet deserves
European fame, thanks
to his poems full of
power and enthusiasm..."
Don't sweat, Mr. Lelewel.
We know there are many
Tartars in the Crimea,
so the Russians may
understand
those dreadful Crimean Sonnets,
which I don't and am not
going to read.
Little loss, Sir.
You may even boast that since
you read Horace in school,
you haven't touched a native poet,
afraid of spoiling your taste.
You should learn
the Golden Age is over.
Mickiewicz addressed that
to you after Krasicki.
Put things foreign
to the side.
Speak your mind
and think with your head,
and create with your own
imagination.
Look up to your own
people for inspiration.
Here you are!
They start an argument
about Romanticism,
only to end with...
revolution.
ODE TO YOUTH
Master told you, Frdric,
to get up right away.
What do you want from me?
It's Sunday.
Then listen:
Morality, among academic
youth, is declining
for lack of humility
before the church.
Senator Novosiltsov obeyed
the Bishop and ordered,
once a week, an inspection
to see if the young confess
at the appointed time
and regularly go to church...
- Who is she?
- Who?
In the organ gallery.
- Who is she?
- Who?
I see dozens of them,
the whole conservatory.
But that...
The first one...
Konstancja Gladkowska.
That godless man's
playing off-key.
Have you gone crazy?
No sense of shame?
A concert in the church?
- Let's go. Quick.
- You want the Board of Education
- to take care of you?
- What do you want?
He played so off-key he'd
have thrown a saint off balance.
Would have thrown a saint
off balance?
So it was his fault, whereas
I, the fool, thought it was she.
What she?
Why pick on me?
I beg you. Introduce
me to that goddess!
So that's the point:
the goddess!
WARSAW UNIVERSITY
NATIONAL EXHIBIT OF ARTS
What a nice surprise.
Let me, ladies, introduce
our friend Chopin.
If anyone in Warsaw didn't
know Mr. Chopin's talent,
after today's concert, they'll
no doubt know about him.
Exactly. You have to admit.
Have you ever had such
an accompaniment as today?
These are not
all his talents yet.
He is an excellent
expert on plastic arts.
Frdric, show Miss
Gladkowska around the hall.
You were to show me
around,
whereas you act like
a mute statue.
This is a school of
painting I adore.
Those delicate pastels...
white complexion...
golden hair...
Do you want to
accompany me again?
No... God forbid.
I want to show you
the models
of the Grand Theatre
they're building in Warsaw.
Mr. Corazzi has made
a few models.
The one you see
is the first.
Here's another by Mr. Corazzi.
The difference only
shows in the colonnades.
- What's this model?
- A hospital.
Strange.
So far I've been thinking
it's the last final
model of the Grand Theatre.
Yes, indeed, please forgive me.
It's of the theatre.
The model of the new
hospital is further on.
It makes not much
difference, Lieutenant.
Mozart would say that
every theatre
is a lunatic asylum.
And the opera is a ward
for the terminal cases.
You're very kind
to a future singer.
Thank you for the lesson
in historical painting
and...
the accompaniment.
I'll be damned if I ever
dare accompany you.
What a pity.
I was scheduled to sing
at Count Skarbek's
in Zelazowa Wola.
I thought you'd
accompany me.
It is far to
Zelazowa Wola today.
But for the downpour,
we'd be there in a few hours.
We'll have been lucky
to arrive by night.
- Are you all right?
- No, why?
- Have we landed in a ditch?
- A wheel has broken.
Nothing can be done. Let's
look for a place to sleep.
I see something glimmer.
It must be a cabin. Let's go.
Hey, anyone there?
Open up!
Don't be afraid, old man.
Our carriage wheel
is broken.
The young master
must warm himself.
Who were you afraid of?
Father, call Anka.
Anka! Anka!
The manor wants
Anka as a servant.
That's against the law.
We give
the manor its due,
The presbytery gets its due.
Come here, Anka.
Don't be scared!
And now they demand
his youngest from Father.
Come to the fireside
and get warm.
The young master
won't mind.
I'll ride to the manor on horseback
to get you a coach, Sir.
Let him go!
Who gave you the right
to harass an old man?
- We're from Count Branicki.
- Let him go!
Are you to see the count?
No, Count Skarbek.
- What's your name, Sir?
- Chopin.
Count Skarbek's tutor's son!
But I have our count's order!
Don't stand there!
Take him to the manor!
There's a little garden,
in the field as painted.
Who painted it?
My darling Jasio...
Come, Sir,
would you like a ride?
We'll be happy
if it's on your way?
Gee up! Gee up!
Frdric, back
to the drawing room.
Frdric! Where have you
hidden in this fog?
Konstancja!
Konstancja!
Konstancja!
Konstancja!
Konstancja!
A high forest, a low field,
where my horses used to eat
They'd eat days and nights
Herded by my azure eyes...
- Praise the Lord.
- For ever and ever.
Be seated, Sir.
You must've lost your way.
Indeed. How do you know?
I guess so.
There is only bog around with
a passage near the river.
Whereas you've come
along from the wood,
across the swamp.
When I play for them,
they don't shy.
Could you lead me?
I must be back at the manor
in Zelazowa Wola.
The horses can't be left alone.
There're lots of animals around.
You'll find the way near
the river in the morning.
Take a rest, Sir.
Give the gentleman
a sheepskin, Bronka.
Watch the horses.
I'll take a nap now.
TODAY, JULY 14, 1830, A VIOLIN CONCER BY NICCOLO PAGANINI
Divine!
Devil incarnate!
Great master!
He's signed a pact
with the Beelzebub!
- Angels can't sing so fine!
- Yuck! Sinister force!
Frdric!
Hey, night watchman!
Lead us, brother.
Ninety-six staccato notes
for a single bow! Unheard of!
Those arpeggios!
Good heavens!
Cantabile!
He showed you can do
without a big orchestra...
Why dozens of French horns,
trumpets, or kettle drums!
You can express the whole
heart, misery, happiness,
and the whole world
with a single instrument!
Frdric, take a lantern!
To play! To play!
Who'll tell me now that you can't
do it with the piano alone.
...Frdric Chopin -
a singular ability, a musical genius...
To you Frdric,
may Polish music
resound throughout Europe.
To your trip.
To have Polish music
resound throughout Europe,
Frdric must afford
to go there,
Whereas minister Mostowski
has refused him a scholarship:
"We can't share the opinion
that public funds be wasted
by encouraging artists
of this kind.
You should've said it
earlier!
We'll appeal
to the Prince minister.
Lubecki can overrule
Mostowski's decision.
Let me introduce,
gentlemen,
the highest priest
of Warsaw Polyhymnia,
Rector Elsner
and his most talented
student, Mr. Chopin.
Since Your Highness is so kind to
our school, I take the liberty...
Excuse me...
Novosiltsov is here.
His Highness does not
even want to see him...
Here you are, gentlemen.
Our homeland has been in
a sorry plight many a time.
Let's hope that who saved her
during the reign of Alexander
will save her when ruled
by Nicholas.
To the man of the moment-
Prince Czartoryski.
Prince Adam.
Welcome, senator.
Have you seen it?
The whole elegant
Warsaw has come,
including your chief
Jacobin - Lelewel.
Quite possible, as you
put it, that Lelewel
is our chief Jacobin.
Why do you, dear senator,
impute
the doubtful Jacobinic
dignities to other Poles?
Don't defend yourself,
Prince.
The Poles are Jacobins.
Revolution runs in
the blood of this nation.
They suck it
with mother's milk.
And Pestel, Rileyev,
Colonel Muraviev,
and the revolutionary
outbreak in Petersburg,
are also of Polish doing?
Certainly there are many
revolutionaries among Poles,
but the Russians don't have
a shortage of them either.
Is it true that
you're going abroad?
If I get a scholarship, no financial
problems will stand in my way.
- Are there any others?
- I wonder if I conquer Europe.
I'm afraid to lose
someone who is...
Shall we dance, Madame?
Please wait.
I'll soon be back.
Bye, Frdric. I made an appointment
with Witwicki and Mochnacki.
Wait, I'm coming along.
They'll tell me to play now.
Don't be sad, Frdric.
You'll go out into the world
and will have your share
of worries and joys.
You must have fortitude,
like a man.
But I only have a long nose.
Rather than the height of
Lieutenant Pisarzewski,
the shapely legs of
Bezobrazov,
only a long nose.
I can barely tune
the piano,
let alone tune in myself.
Frdric, wait!
A BALL TONIGHT.
EVENING DRESS CODE.
- Stefan!
- Frdric!
Come here...
and drink with me.
I'd be happy to,
but you know I don't like it.
I don't like you
so down in the dumps.
Why you brother
keep on musing
Let the doldrums
go to hell
Now my friend
down your drink
The world's not worth
a tinker's damn.
- not worth a tinker's damn.
- You come to create here?
In her honour. Look,
isn't she worth it?
Barmaid, barmaid,
What're you doing? Stop!
Smiling at him, you spill and spill
On my tunic - mead!
Won't forgive you, will smother
with kisses those peepers and brow,
Small feet, white teeth
Set on fire my heart!
You must write music
to this.
Come, come.
The officer cadets demand
that we start a revolution,
having put it off so often.
You won't stop them this time.
News of a revolution
circle around Warsaw.
Before the New Year,
craftsmen wanted to quit.
Someone must take responsibility
for our revolution.
Let's seek agreement with those
the country respects, with the Sejm.
Could you arrange
a meeting with Lelewel?
With Lelewel...
Excuse me, I seem
to know you.
You're mistaken.
He recognised me.
He's a snooper!
Me too, I'm afraid.
Go! We'll stop him!
One moment.
You aren't mistaken.
- We know each other well.
- How come?
You're mistaken.
I don't know you.
You don't remember.
It's not kind of you.
Come. We'll raise a glass
to this nice encounter.
Miss, aqua vitae
make it triple!
Oh no, no, no.
Let me, gentlemen,
drink with this nice citizen.
To revolution!
No, no, no.
It doesn't behoove to leave
old friends. Let's drink!
To undo all snoopers!
Don't you want to drink
to undo all snoopers?!
To Warsaw craftsmen.
What? Don't you want to
drink to the craftsmen brotherhood?
Friends, someone here despises
Varsavians!
Barmaid, barmaid.
What're you doing? Stop!
Smiling at him you spill and spill
On my tunic - mead!
Smiling at him, you spill and spill
On my tunic - mead!...
Why you brother keep on musing
Let the doldrums go to hell
Now my friend down your drink
The world's not worth a tinker's damn.
Now my friend down your drink
The world's not worth a tinker's damn!
Won't forgive you, will smother
with kisses those peepers and brow
Small feet, white teeth,
Set on fire my heart!
Small feet, white teeth,
Set on fire my heart!
Won't forgive...
Small feet, white teeth,
Set on fire my heart!
Have you heard?
A revolution in Paris.
The king is said to
have abdicated.
Run to Mochnacki's editorial office.
They should know if it's true.
The news of a revolution
in France
has caused a slump in
the Warsaw stock market.
The fall of the Bourbons!
An upheaval in Italy.
Is the editor-in-chief in?
No, he left with Mr. Witwicki.
- Mr. Witwicki home?
- Yes, but...
He's in conference
with Mr. Mochnacki.
I won't disturb them, then.
I'll wait in the drawing room.
It must be Frdric.
We can go on.
We cannot be heard there.
We must finally set the date
of the uprising.
You know about the recent arrests.
We can't wait till they lock all of us up.
Let Mochnacki finish first.
I keep asking who's
accountable
for Poland still
under the czarist yoke?
No bones about it - it's
those who rule
the Patriotic Association.
It's easy to look
for the guilty party.
It hardly behooves you.
You always have two
opinions about anything.
- What are you driving at?
- No time for idle talk.
Five years ago, Muraviev
asked if the Poles
would rise once the Russians
started a revolution?
Why weren't we given a go ahead
to start an uprising?
Now that the Russian
conspirators
have been bled white and
the revolution suppressed,
are we to rise alone
with no support?
Forget about the past.
Think about the future.
This means a distrust of victory,
the strength and honour of the nation!
Not true! Let's learn
a lesson from the past.
The nobility lost the cause,
ignoring Kollataj's advice
to combine an armed uprising
with a social revolution!
Calling us to fight the nobility
in a fratricidal struggle?
A civil war rather than
a war against the czar?
Leave social issues to
those in a free homeland.
- We'll start with or without you!
- Let Deputy Lelewel speak.
The Sejm has reinstated
flogging
of peasants and townspeople.
The nobility won't part with
the land appropriated
from the people.
What are the people
to defend,
to shed their blood for?
A nobility rebellion?
Give the people freedom and land.
No more indentured peasants
and exploitation! Burn the accused
nobility's whip,
give the people
their homeland!
Only then will millions
defend Poland and we'll win!
The most expert politician,
Prince Czartoryski,
warns against the turmoil
of a social revolution.
No abolition of the indentureship
without Sejm's resolution.
We are unknowns.
If we infringe the Sejm's
rights, no authority
respected in the country will join
a revolutionary government.
One such man would be
enough with his intellect,
- will and... strength.
- Of the Bonaparte family?
We saw one like that in France
betray the revolution...
Sir, this is not
a lecture in history.
This is not about putting on a pedestal.
Our duty is to start!
- The nation will join!
- The Sejm will pass laws and choose
- the authorities!
- Fight first. Politicking later.
After the recent arrests,
our union's in great peril.
Hence we, the military,
want to set the date
of the uprising
as soon as possible.
Go on playing, Frdric.
Who knows how long
we will be able to listen to you?
Has the news of
the French revolution
unnerved you so much?
Is it true?
As true as can be.
In Italy also.
Splendid! My trip
abroad will be postponed.
You don't want to go?
Didn't you tell us that
only abroad,
free of patriotic sentiments,
you'll learn your worth.
That's right...
I don't have the money
for the trip yet.
Elsner counts on
Lubecki's scholarship.
I don't. Great men's
favours are uncertain.
The Prince is still busy.
His Highness
Prince Czartoryski.
Let me start, Your Highness.
I had a delegation of
tradesmen with Mr. Zajdel,
warning of a revolution
of the commoners.
My police tell me
there are symptoms of disturbances
among apprentices.
What does it have to do
with our conversation?
They say you can do
everything in Poland.
And you they call
the uncrowned king.
You'd better look
at the French king's fate.
A revolution in Poland will
start with
an abolition of indentureship
and end with our beheading.
I'm just back
from the Great Prince.
Alas, Prince Konstanty is right.
In this plight only a strong
union with the Russian empire
can save us from a revolution.
When will Frdric come?
No Frdric here.
I've been looking for you.
Officer cadets have decided
to rise October 10 - 20
with an attempt
on Konstanty's life
at the first concert
assigned during these days.
- What about Lubecki?
- He didn't receive us.
I don't believe in anything,
even Radziwill's promises.
You give up the trip?
I may collect from the concert
between the 10th and 20th of October.
October 10 - 20?
Elsner will even try to
have Konstanty attend.
- Can't you change the date?
- The hall will be occupied later.
I'm gripped with fear
to play a large hall.
What if nobody comes
to my farewell concert?
Warsaw has failed to come?
- Pietrek!
- He's run away!
- Pietrek?!
- No, Charles.
What Charles?
Charles X, French king.
The Czartoryski family
did not come.
But it will enough
for Frdric's trip.
I wonder if
Konstanty will come?
Well, where's Chopin?
High time for your
revolutionary to start.
Wysocki is waiting
for Konstanty.
Warn Lelewel before
he enters.
Sir...
Officer cadets have taken seats
near Konstanty's box.
If there's an assassination,
you'll be the suspect.
I've been seen.
If I back out now,
this will raise eyebrows.
- Has Konstanty come?
- Expected any minute.
Konstanty won't come,
Goszczynski says.
There are inscriptions
in town:
Long live craftsmen!
On Konstanty's residence:
Belvedere to let
from New Year on.
The whole Warsaw
is highly charged.
The whole Warsaw is
expecting a better weather, Sir.
Konstanty must've been
warned. Hence his absence.
You're leaving?
You're leaving...
I didn't want to...
Didn't I tell you the world
is open before you?
What do you say?
If your music school
has all such students,
I bow low.
He was 11,
When old Zywny
refused to teach him.
The student knew more
than the teacher.
I'm 60 now, I may not
understand everything.
Great talents may follow
new roads,
establishing
new laws of their own.
I may not see you
again any more.
This is a farewell for ever.
Well, farewell, my dearest...
Hello, old Vienna,
the town where Frdric
Chopin will be famous!
Close the window
or pay me 10 zloty.
- Why?
- Close the window.
Should I catch a cold and
pay for the doctor myself?
- Where are you going?
- To Dr. Malfatti.
- How do you know if he's good?
- He treats Emperor Francis himself.
He treated and was
a friend of Beethoven.
The most outstanding
musicians meet in his house.
So I want him
to treat me too,
telling those beasts,
the Viennese publishers,
to print pieces
by Mr. Chopin.
Graf Gallenberg has
offered you a concert
sans remuneration.
I refused.
Have you been to
the publishers,
to Hasslinger?
He has some of my pieces,
which he called
- unusual and wonderful...
- And told you to be patient
as great things don't
need to hurry
and didn't pay you a dime.
He might've given you a watch.
How do you know?
He ridiculed me.
When I told him
his watch had stopped,
"Exactly like the sale
of your pieces," he quipped.
You shouldn't have
taken offense.
He gives poor watches
only to very good composers.
Mozart was among them.
So you advise...
Show me your tongue.
You understand?
You know I'm a doctor.
Breathe!
A deep breath!
A bad cold.
I haven't heard such
a wonderful orchestra
for a long time. Yuck!
How do you swear in Polish?
For instance:
- Dammit!
- Dammit?
Do all you geniuses
have to be ill?
I'll take care of your
musical matters
if you start treatment!
You're invited tonight.
Some Jesuits will come
to listen to music for free
and a few musicians
who seek support
from the omnipotent
Jesuits in Vienna. Dammit!
A Czech will come,
a violinist of genius,
who isn't ill - Slavik.
What's the matter with Vienna?
Yes, kind sir?
Never during the reign
of Emperor Francis.
No papers at this time
of day?!
The censorship is swamped
with work these days.
A new paper, ladies
and gentlemen. Here.
A wonderful boy, this Slavik. I've never
heard a better violinist since Paganini.
Welcome, Chopin, the best
pianist in the world!
One can't have a moment
of peace, even in a caf.
Peace and order since
the accursed
July revolution in Paris?!
There's turmoil there all the time.
Holland, Italy, Saxon city states.
Even here, the rabble
starts shouting:
Jesuits to swing
from lampposts!
And now Warsaw!
We're not in Warsaw!
Thank God and our
Chancellor Metternich -
no uprising in Vienna yet.
Those Poles stir up
turmoil everywhere!
An uprising in Warsaw...
It's the wind beating
against the drainpipes.
Mr. Chopin?
Here. An express letter.
From Warsaw...
from my parents.
They don't want me
to return.
My respects.
Very reasonable people.
I've been explaining for
hours
with your health, you'll be
no use in the rising.
Heavenly weakling.
Let everyone do what they can.
You're a musician.
What can my music do?
They give blood...
Ever been to
the mountains?
Even a quiet shepherd's
song can start an avalanche.
No, no. Leave me alone.
I can't put up with your
arguing any longer.
I won't stay, no...
A coach to Warsaw
left in the morning.
Off you go!
The next one - in two days.
Give me an express coach
to catch up with it.
I'll pay you
what you wish.
Good.
Faster, faster...
Faster, faster...
Sir, sir, you hear me?
The road's snowbound.
We must go back...
I'm one of those doctors who
don't lie to patients.
You have miserable health.
It's unthinkable for you
to stand a soldier's hardships.
Beware!
You might live long,
but I doubt if you
survive another flu.
I can't do anything
for my country.
What's left for me to do?
Es lebe Polen!
Nieder mit Metternich!
Nieder!
Es lebe Polen!
Vive la Pologne!
Regardez! Un Polonais.
- Stefan!
- Dear Frdric!
- How come you're here?
- Ask the old lady history.
My dear! Have you seen my folks?
Mother, sisters?
- To Roi Taranne.
- Better to my place.
All Poles who come to Paris
gather on Taranne.
Prince Czartoryski
has the floor.
We're against the members
of Lelewel's
National Committee.
They're accountable for
the uprising's fall.
Rather than unite
against Moscow,
they spoke of how to
abolish the indentureship,
pitting the peasants
against the nobility.
Poland will long
remember the night
of August 15
when Poles hanged Poles.
The people hanged traitors!
Now Lelewel's politics
will scare away
and discourage
European governments.
They will refuse to help
and won't negotiate with us.
Lelewel's committee wasn't
chosen by
a legal, rightful Sejm.
It has no mandate,
nor any most distinguished
Poles sit on it.
Deputy Lelewel.
Bitter and painful are
the words
I turn to you with,
you who gave your blood
and are now homeless,
that Poland had to fall.
There were too few honest
defenders of the homeland,
for those were missing who
are the most numerous -
millions of peasants.
Even facing the enemy,
the greatest peril to Poland,
the nobility wouldn't
return
the land appropriated
from the people.
Now the party of aristocrats
whispers in the corners,
and Prince Czartoryski
insinuated out loud
that there are Moscow
agents among us.
Truth to tell, we wanted
to call Russian regiments
to unite against the czar's
despotism,
weighing down them and us.
But it wasn't us, Prince,
who called godless
the secret unions,
conspiring against the czar,
nor received the papal
endorsement to that effect.
You say we don't have
a mandate of the Sejm.
He has the true one,
who speaks on behalf
of the oppressed, devoid of rights,
who will unite the holy rights
of the people with the love of homeland,
who will integrate the interest
of our country
with that of mankind.
FOR YOUR FREEDOM
AND OURS.
Bogdan? Bogdan!
Stefan! Frdric!
Poland has not perished yet
As long as we still live
That which foreign force has seized
We at swordpoint shall retrieve.
March, march, Dabrowski
From Italy to our Polish land
Let us now unite the nation
Under thy command.
God, how much we've
lived through those two years.
You think the fight is over?
No! Only our youth is.
What's going on? Why?
Why? You'll soon see.
Lelewel was right
a hundred times.
No governments or diplomacy,
or the dying order of things
supports our uprising,
but a new order, splendid,
revolutionary and terrible,
as everything that is to come
and what the peoples
are looking forward to!
- Long live the revolution!
- Down with the gendarmes!
Work and bread
in place of bayonets!
- Long live Poland!
- Long live the brotherhood of people!
The end