Aquarius.
Warning: quite a lot of conversation in this chapter will be in French, as I felt the translation did not quite render the atmosphere. I hope those who do know the language will savour it as I do. Translation provided at the bottom.
Nick woke, cold. Colder than cold. Icy. Freezing.
And he was tired. Sleepy.
"Drowsiness…is deadly at these temperatures. Hypothermia. Must wake up. Wake up…and stay awake…"
He moved with difficulty.
"But no frostbite as yet. All appendages still in place."
Sigh.
"Relief!"
Hard to breathe…Agonising lungs.
The burly Englishman slowly unrolled himself from his huddle position rather like a hedgehog satisfied that the coast is clear.
He opened his eyes.
Darkness.
No, not darkness, gloom. Filtered evening light. Automatically he glanced at his watch. The glass had shattered, but it still worked: 17.21 and 36 seconds.
"C'est l'heure de ta mort, petit homme."
It was the first time since Nick had topped six feet that anyone called him little.
He looked up and found himself staring at a young man with an arrogant face framed with long, very long red sideburns.
"Aha, it is one of the Goldies again. Wait a minute, he speaks French, it must be Ilya's Master: Aquarius. Boy oh boy, I have been interdimensionally whisked through seven Temples! "
For a moment Nick reflected on how strangely calm he was for someone who had barely escaped death and was now being told that this was the hour he was going to die anyway.
"Mewci." he said.
"Plait-il?"
"Vous m'avez épargné une eshcalade plutôt fatigant. Cela méwite le mewci, même shi vous n'êtes pas twès poli. '' Nick assumed that the Aquarius Saint had interrupted his interdimensional flight and hauled him to the eleventh Temple. He was also happy to notice that it was easier for him to speak French, as the 's' and the 'n' are not always pronounced.
Nick got up, and now he was looking down on the man.
Man? Boy. Child playing war-games. Irresponsible brats with not a brain between them. Dumb soldiers and that in his opinion was a tautology. Or was it a pleonasm? Whatever.
He shook his had like and angry bear that has been rudely dragged out of hibernation and is trying to figure out why it isn't asleep.
Nick, too, was angry.
"Tout d'abowd, on a pas fait les shix-cent coups vous et moi, que je shache! 'Que esht-ce que enshemble nous gardâmes '? »
" Must be Queer's bad influence, I'm starting to quote Cyrano too, now!"
"En d'autwes tewmes, tant que je vous vous-voie, vous faites de même, esht-ce bien clair ? "
Without leaving Camu a chance to respond - which the Ice-Saint was too astonished to do anyhow, being told off for using the familiar 'tu' instead of the polite 'vous' by a mere mortal– Nick continued: "Enshuite je n'aime point les menaces. Vous n'êtes qu'un mal-embouché, voilà ce que vous êtes. D'accowd, c'est votwe pwoblème, apwès tout. Mais vous voulez me tuer, alors là, pas d'accord du tout ! Et puis qu'esht-ce qu'au jushte vous me wepwochez? "
The Aquarius Saint was having great difficulties at maintaining his much-vaunted cool.
This ordinary mortal who was hugging himself and stamping his feet against the cold, and who was talking through chattering teeth (of which some where missing at that), this puny creature dared to treat him like a naughty boy! Calling him impolite, rude even, and on top of it all daring to question his right to kill!
"You have entered Sanctuary at your own peril. Death is the price you must pay for it. So the Goddess has decreed. Your lack of respect alone merits summary execution."
Nick began to explain quite extensively and colourfully what he thought of Athena and her bunch of assassins.
"And furthermowe, " he said, " You can shtick your whole Gweek mythology whewe the shun doeshn't shine! Immowal wotten to the cowe good-fow-nothing, the whole Pantheon! Let me tell you thewe ishn't a Gweek alive today who wouldn't be ashamed of being asshociated with that lot. They quit wowshipping them centuwiesh ago, and anyway even at the time they didn't wespect theiw Gods all that much, witnessh Homew or Awistophanesh. Sho don't come to me blathewing about weshpecting the Goddessh! Apawt from the mosht uncivilised of shocietiesh, execution without a faiw and pwopew twial is called 'muwdew'.
"Silence!" thundered the Aquarius Saint, more shaken than he would show, " For those words you will die!"
Nick suddenly became calm again. It was an utterly English reaction. In the face of the greatest danger, they absolutely refuse with bulldoggish stubbornness to show fear, even when they are close to peeing in their pants. Instead, they confront it head-on, with typical English humour.
"Boy, I musht be a thweat if you deem it neceshsary to kill an unawmed man. I shcare myshelf now."
And with great dignity he added: "Monsieur, vous déshonorez l'Humanité tout entièwe paw vôtwe Inhumanité; piwe: vous déshonowez la Fwance! "
For all his gruff manners and bluntness of speech Nick was a shrewd man with a keen insight into the human psyche. He knew that in the heart of nine out of ten Frenchmen there slumbers a deeply rooted chauvinism, a nationalistic pride that can easily be aroused when offended and especially when their country's honour is put to question. Camu, so Nick had learned from Ilya's stories about his Master, was definitely one of the nine. The years in Sanctuary and Siberia had not lessened his love for France.
The young dentist gave an exagerrated sigh: "Je me shewai jamais imaginé qu'un véwitable Français puisshe oublier à ce point là ce qu'il doit à sha Patwie et à la Wepublique ! "
Camu went pale. He had not heard his mother-tongue spoken for so long at a time and so fluently (Once he had figured out the speech impediment) in years, and the words stirred memories of his earliest childhood, of a little five year old boy whose name was not Camu, walking hand in hand with his grandfather on a beach in Normandy near the small town of Ouistreham. The little legs tried very hard to keep up with Papy*, and the dog Milou** would be running ahead and bark the gulls. Papy would take tiny steps and bend down a little so that his grandson would not have to reach too high for his hand.
The boy's grandfather had been a young man during the War, and every time they came to the D-Day memorial he would stop and say: "Vois-tu, p'tit gars (he called his boy: 'petit gars') vois-tu, on c'est bien battu ici pendant la Guerre!"
"C'est quoi, la Guerre, Papy?"
« A terrible thing ! » his grandfather had answered.
"War destroys everything and nobody wins. Young people should not have to fight. "
But he had added: " Mais parfois la Liberté est à ce prix! Ah, je n'aurai pas été de ces lâches qui ont fuit en Quarante à Dunkerque grâce à ces braves Anglais pour retourner peu après, ah non, ça jamais, je me serai battu avec le Général ! "
" C'est qui le Général, dis, Papy, dis ? "
" The President of course! De Gaulle!"
"Why did you not fight with him then?"
"I was still too young. And when they came in '44 I had been taken to Germany to work in the factories. Ces salauds de Boches! But the General, he came back like he promised. He fought hard, with the English and the Canadians, et puis un peu ces Amerloques aussi!***
Inch by inch they fought for our country, on the beaches and further inland. "
Then he had turned angry and had cried out with spittle on his lips and shaking his fist: "Tandis que la canaille se tenait planquée dans les caves des maisons et se plaignait encore de la destruction, du pays!"
He had spat on the ground to show his contempt. "On ne fait pas d'omelette sans casser des œufs. » But he had added : "Better not to make war at all, though."
The little boy would one day become a Saint would not remember those last words.
At the time did not understand why his Grandfather was so against war and destruction and yet so angry with the cowards who complained about it. He said so.
Papy had taken off his hat, something he only did in Church, and said in a solemn voice:
" Pour la Patrie, il n'y a pas de sacrifice qui compte!"
"C'est quoi la Patrie? "
The old man had made a wide gesture encompassing the beach, the dunes and the Bocage.****
"C'est çà, p'tit gars! C'est la France ! La République. C'est nous ! "
" Mamy *****aussi ? "
« Bien sûr ! All the Grandfathers and Grandmothers and all the little boys and girls and the mummy's and daddy's. Everything that exists only here and nowhere else!"
"Not in America?"
The little boy had heard a lot about America. His parents often talked about it as if they did not like it much. He hoped he would never have to go there.
"Ben tiens! Comme si on pourrait faire un aussi bon Calvados comme ton Grand-papa, en Amérique! Avec les bonnes pommes de nôtre Normandie. "
" Hmmm ! Dis, Papy, la tarte aux pommes, c'est aussi la France ? "
"Apple pie, » had declared the old man, "Is nowhere as good as here, made by your Grandmother from apples you have picked in my orchard. C'est l'ultime France! "
"Ul..ult…ultible ?"
"Ultime! It means the biggest and the best!"
The little boy that was not yet the Saint Camu had tugged his grandfather's hand and cried. "Moi j'aimerais bien manger l'ultime France maintenant! Avec la crème fraîche, hein, Papy, hein, promis ?"
"Promis ! Avec beaucoup de crème fraîche. "
That was the best memory he had of Papy, his mother's father, and the last. Not long afterwards his parents had taken him home to Paris.
Papy and Mamy had not approved of their eighteen-year old daughter gone to study in the capital falling in love and moving in with her professor at the Sorbonne, now long-haired and one of the ringleaders of the student revolt. ******
They had argued long and fiercely about it that last day.
"Ce Parisien te mènera à ta perte, ma fille!" Mamy had cried, and Papy had added: " All that talk of students and workers joining hands…when did he ever work? You will see, he'll end up in jail one day, both of you, and then where will le p'tit gars be, hein?"
"His name is Fidel, Papa!" had said his mother.
"After that barbu in Cuba, on sait! C'est pas un nom de bon Français."
His father had called Papy un vieux bourgeois. The old man had thrown the professor out of the house, calling after him: " I am one of your precious workers! I have worked in factories and in my orchards all my life! And if 'bourgeois' is what you are not, then foutrecul, je suis fier de l'être!"
Papa and Maman had left at once in their second hand deux-chevaux, Papa angry at the wheel Maman crying and their little son happily repeating Papy's Bad Word : "Foutrecul! Foutrecul!" to himself.
And then the accident had happened.
He could not remember what exactly, something with the car, and Maman had screamed, screamed, and there had been this blinding light, and then he was in Sanctuary. He had cried for his parents and Mamy and Papy for three days, and then his Master had told him to stop.
The pain had quickly taught him that to forget was best.
Nick could see he had struck a chord with the red-haired Frenchman.
"Allons, shoyons waisonable." said he in a calm, soothing voice, " Allow me to take my fiancée home, and we'll talk no mowe about it. No hawd feelings."
"Vôtre…fiancée?"
Nick noted with satisfaction that Camu had not said 'ta'.
"Ben tiens! Viminalish la douce, la plus belle, la plus blonde et la plus pûwe de toutes! La meilleuwe chôshe qui a fwôlé la vie d'un fwipon comme moi! Her pawents too awe hewe, and her bwothewsh."
"Je l'ignorais." said Camu.
"Nevew mind. Jusht tell me whewe she is, no wait, you don't have to, I'll look for hew myshelf."
The Englishman moved towards the exit of the Aquarius Temple, yet the Gold Saint held him back. His touch took the skin off Nick's arm, all the way through his coat and jumper.
"I am very sorry for your fiancée and her family, but I cannot let you pass."
"Can not ow will not?" said Nick, his deep grey eyes growing stormy under his bushy brows.
"Both. I am a Saint. I will do my duty."
"Ish it posshible? Can't you shee that youw idea of duty ish bashed on a lie and an ancient one at that? You have fought in what is bashically a family quawwel that has been going on for centuwiesh. No, cowwection, youw Godsh have behaved like childwen ovew a toy. Youw Athena has made shcandaloush use of youw youth and gullibility…"
"Athena protects Earth!"
"Posshibly, posshibly, and it would be laudable, if she bothewed to conshider whewe Eawth's besht inteweshtsh lie."
"She knows more than you about that, you puny mortal: she has lived long, and is a Goddess."
"Attitude, my boy, attitude! 'Puny Mowtal' is not how you addwess people. Though very Fwench, on ne peut plus hautain…"
"Tais-toi!"
"Et voilà qui me we-tutoie! Chapeau, l'éducation locale!"
Camu gritted his teeth. That ugly, insolent bear of a man had brought him quite beside himself, letting him dwell on sentiments he had believed long dead and arousing passions he should not give in to.
"I am to kill you. I have no choice in the matter."
"There is always a choice."
Camu's frostbitten heart skipped a beat, annoying him ever further.
The voice was one he had most dreaded and yet most wanted - longed- to hear.
"Hyoga."
"My name is Ilya." said the Cygnus Saint quietly.
"Which shounds a lot bettew." chuckled Nick, " I alwaysh felt like I wash talking to yoghurt. No offence meant. Hello, Russki. Glad to shee you made it. What happened to the megalomaniac?"
"He did not make it. I landed in the Sagittarius Temple and had to confront Marin. She is and agent of Graad, and she has reached the Seventh Sense. As such she could wear Aioros' s old Cloth. She was quite determined to exterminate me."
"Apparently she did not succeed." said Camu." Which means I will be forced to do it."
"That has rather become a habit with you, hasn't it?" remarked Ilya dryly, " You never succeeded and anyway you yourself have admitted that I have surpassed you."
"I may surprise you yet." said his Master softly.
"Perhaps."
"What did you do with that Mawin woman?" inquired Nick cautiously, " You did shay you would not kill again."
"Nor did I. Not her. Kanon I had to: he was a true menace. She may yet be saved, defending how tied she is to Kido. It's a Japanese thing. The Aquila Saint sees herself as a loyal samurai who will rather die than betray her Master, even if that Master is a criminal. The Saints have that same loyalty: that is their tragedy. In the meantime I locked Marin in the Ice Coffin."
He turned back to Camu. " I hope I do not have to do the same with you."
The Aquarius Saint smiled. "I thought you might. I sensed the cold of it. Oh, you are truly my best pupil! I am very proud of you, Hyoga."
"Ilya. My name is Ilya. Stop it. Stop being proud of the assassin you turned me into. Stop deluding yourself that the service of Athena is a noble thing. It may have been necessary I'll grant you that. But it shouldn't have been. It must stop. It will stop. You can make it so, if you will choose my side…"
"It is not that simple." said Camu mildly, " You think that your 'side' is absolutely right. I happen to know mine is. Two irreconcilable viewpoints. Only a duel to the death between us will settle it ."
"Thewe you go again!" cried Nick, " "Mais c'esht complètement débile! Ilya ishn't offewing you to cwossh ovew to anothew shide, he wantsh you to take your own life in hand. Do what you want!"
"Precisely." said Camu.
"Oh no, I won't be drawn into that game again." breathed Ilya, " The Apprentice can only show himself worthy of his Master by surpassing him; that is, by killing him. How many fell by your hand before I came, Camu? Isaak was the last survivor. He claimed the others had fled: how? Little children in the middle of Siberia? You were a harsh taskmaster, yet not unkind. You encouraged the friendship between Isaak and me. That was the final test, wasn't it? We would have to oppose each other. The one who would show hesitation at killing a friend would prove himself the loser. That kind of sentimentality had to be rooted out. Yet the winner too would lose: the last shred of humanity he had left. His soul. I passed the test, Camu. I killed Isaak. As mercilessly as he had always hoped he would do. Congratulations: you turned me into a cold monster, an image of yourself. Yet somehow, miraculously, my humanity returned. I can cry again, and laugh, and feel sorry for you. Ironic isn't it? Almost a waste of a perfectly good emotion, to feel sorry for someone who doesn't want it."
"Yes. " said Camu, "Nevertheless I thank you for it."
"Shtop thish nonshenshe both of you." said Nick crossly, " You awe building up towawdsh a fight Ilya, howevew much you pwotest you don't want to. Ash fow you, " he bit at Aquarius, " If you want to commit shuicide, at least have the gutsh to do it youwshelf, and not let shomeone else take the wap for you."
"Suicide?" asked Ilya, "Suicide, Camu? No, that isn't it. He has no Deathwish, say rather he has no Lifewish. To be vanquished by his apprentice is his sole reason for existence. It will prove he has done his job as Saint and Master properly. Damn you, Camu, I already had to kill you once, why could you not stay dead? Why come back from Hades? I saw your body dissolve!"
"Hades brought me back to life, to kill Athena in Sanctuary. He believed He had dominion over my body and spirit, since I belonged to his realm, yet in those last moments I, like Saga and Shura, attained the Eight Sense, and so withdrew ourselves from his power. Later, the force of the blast that drilled a hole in the wall of lamentation did not kill us but merely sent us into the Interdimensional Void. We were able to return to perform a final duty, which is to stand by Athena in her battle against Zeus, father of the Gods."
"Told you: a family quawwel." muttered Nick.
The Aquarius Saint ignored him and went on: " Even now the forces of Olympos are gathering. This time we will not be facing mortals, such as the Marina's or the Spectres, but the Gods themselves : Artemis and Apollo, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hephaistos, Hera, …maybe even Ares if his spirit has reincarnated again, since in all probability it was chased out of Saga when he died after the Battle of Sanctuary. Remember your struggle with Hypnos and Thanatos, and tremble."
"Can't thoshe guysh meet and shit awound a table with ush and talk it over, kissh and make up, like one big happy family? Maybe we can find shome common gwound."
Camu stared at the Englishman, and asked after a momentary mindboggling image of the Gods shitting around a table: "You? Why You? You are not involved. You have no say in the matter anyhow."
"Not involved? It is ush you are toying with. Eawth ishn't a plaything. The human wace can't shuwvive without it. That givesh ush the wight to shpeak up, if anything."
"You see, Camu, an new player has entered the Godgame."
Two shadowy figures emerged from the twilight outside. A rainbow Aura swirled around the one, and around the other a smell of freshly lit tobacco.
"Glad to see you both safe and sound, boys." said mr. Field, puffing his pipe.
Mu walked up to his fellow Gold Saint.
"Ikki sent Milo into the Bermuda Triangle, Camu. We hurried through Sagittarius where we saw Ilya's handiwork. I think you should reconsider your position."
The Aquarius Saint made no answer but peered over Mu's shoulder.
"That's right, Ikki did not come with us. He has gone to destroy the Zodiacal Clock."
"What!?!" cried Camu, " Are you mad? The Clock is a vital part of Sanctuary's defences! Without it, anyone can approach Athena's temple without passing through the Twelve…"
Mu grinned. "Yes, we thought it was about time to change the rules of the game. Give you a different perspective. Like I said: there is a new player: Humanity. That rather upsets the whole board, doesn't it?"
Camu shook his head as if to clear it.
"Mad! You have gone mad! If Ikki succeeds then what will stop Olympos?"
"I imagine we would have to set aside our differences temporarily if negotiation does not work. " said Mu cheerily, " Band together to repel the enemy instead of sacrificing the pawns one by one."
"That is not how it is done!"
"No, but that is how we will have to do it. I hope to avoid it though. I've thought this over carefully. Someone should go to Zeus and explain the new position. I'm prepared to do it, and I would rather do it with Athena's blessing. Camu, you did not see her tears after the battle of Sanctuary. She may be a Goddess, and determined to play the Godgame in her role as protector of Earth, but deep in her heart of hearts, I know, she longs to be like any other girl. Ending the game will set her free. Don't you see? We are doing this as much for Athena as for ourselves."
"I never realised…you loved her, didn't you Mu? You cared Athena not as an idea, not as a Goddess, not as a duty, but as a person."
"Yes…yes. I don't think I ever did see her as anything else. She was very lonely. Sometimes I could just take her in my arms and hold her…and I never did. Of all the regrets I have, that is the greatest."
"I saw it too. When I was brushing her hair and she was staring into her mirror like she was trying not to cry. We would talk, about…well, girlish things."
"Such as?"
"Oh, dresses, and puppies and…er…boys, sometimes."
"A boy, I'll bet. Seiya."
"Oh, Miho, are you still jealous?"
"I lost him to her. I know Seiya did not care about Athena the way Mu did, or loved her as a man does a woman, yet he revered her, enough to forget me, enough to die for her."
"Do not be jealous of Athena. You would not want to have been in her place."
"Mu, Nastassia, you two are far to lenient on her. You are kind-hearted by nature and saw her at her best. We who lived at the Kido mansion saw her at her worst. Believe me, not a nice sight."
"People have many frailties. One must not condemn them for that, but help them to overcome it."
"A Goddess isn't people. I could forgive Saori, but she was Athena reincarnated. A Bodhisattva, as you Tibetans would say. The best of people, right? The ones who have laid aside all desire and reached Nirvana."
"No, no, Ikki, the Buddha teaches us that to strive for Nirvana for Nirvana's sake is an utterly selfish act. A Bodhisattva is one who turns away from Nirvana to return to earth and help his fellowmen reach enlightenment."
"That settles it then: Athena and the other Olympians were not Bodhisattvas, 'cause they did more harm than good. Maybe they were the selfish ones turned down, and since they could not have Nirvana, they took earth, only to quarrel over it."
"Could very well be. Who knows? Perhaps they had themselves forgotten. Yet I wish I had had the time to tell Athena…to tell the lonely young woman that she was not unloved."
"You lie! You wish to take over Sanctuary! You have sold yourself to the Olympians! Let me past, Mu, I must stop Phoenix in his madness, before it is too late!"
A blast of extreme cold hit the Aries Saint and engulfed him totally. Within seconds he was captured in solid ice.
"Out of my way, all of you, or you will follow his fate!" yelled Camu.
The ice surrounding Mu lighted up and sparkled yellow and green and red, blue and orange and violet. Then it shattered.
"Never underestimate the Crystal Wall. One may not see it, but it is there all the same, a fine protective layer…your ice never touched my skin."
"Then I have no choice but to kill you!"
The answer was an even mightier blast of cold air, emanating from the balled fists of the Cygnus Saint. The Aquarius Saint was caught with his own preferred weapon: the Ice Coffin.
Mr. Field took the pipe out of his mouth after a last puff.
" Was that absolutely necessary, son?"
"Short of killing him, that's the only way to stop him." said Ilya, trembling slightly, " It may not be sufficient. He has died twice since last I hit him with Absolute Zero. The cold of Hades may have taught him…"
Tiny cracks appeared in the coffin.
"How to break free." finished the young Russian.
A large chunk of the coffin fell forward like a lid. Aquarius emerged.
"I told you I might surprise you yet." said Camu , " You have no choice but to fight me now, Ilya."
"There is always a choice." said Mu, echoing the Cygnus Saint's earlier words. "Ilya, cast your ice coffin again."
"Fool, that will accomplish nothing. My Aurora Execution will…" began Camu, and then stopped, swallowing the rest of this threat as not one, but two powerful forces were directed at him. The Aries Saint had joined the Cygnus.
Ice and mineral combined to form a single block, not smooth surfaced but many facetted like cut diamond, and just as hard.
"Ice Crystals." said Mu, not without a hint of smugness, " Glad that you caught on so quickly.
The rules have changed." grinned the Russian. " It is not single combat anymore with age-old methods everyone should know by heart by now. By pooling our resources we double our strength."
"Amen to that." said Nick with a heartfelt sigh of relief.
To be continued.
* In French-speaking Belgium, grandfathers are called Papy. I don't know if they do so too in Normandy but I like it.
**Milou is Tintin's dog
*** Papy is very French. Like General de Gaulle he so admires, he does not like the Americans.
***The countryside in Normandy
*****Mamy = grandmother (see above)
******May 1968, student revolt in France
I liked the idea of Camu having for parents two Soixante-Huitards (which is how those who participated in the Student Revolt are referred to) of the kind that name their son after Fidel Castro, and a proud, utterly French couple for grandparents. This chapter also gives an insight into how Saints are recruited. Talent scouts hunt for gifted children and are none too scrupulous about how to get them.
Translation:
-C'est l'heure de ta mort, petit homme. = It is the hour of your death, little man
-Merci= Thank you
-Plait-il? = I beg your pardon?
-Vous m'avez épargné une escalade plutôt fatigant. Cela mérite le merci, même si vous n'êtes pas très poli = thanks to you I've been spared an exhausting climb. That merits a thank you, even if you are not very polite.
-Tout d'abord on a pas fait les six-cent coups vous et moi que je sache ! Qu'est ce que ensemble nous gardâmes ? = To begin with we have not done anything together, it would seem to me. What have we in common? (That last line comes out of Rostand's play Cyrano de Bergerac, much quoted by Queer who identifies with Cyrano.)
-En d'autres termes, tant que je vous-voie, vous faites de même, est-ce bien clair? = In other words, as long as I call you 'vous', you'll do the same, is that quite clear? (The English language no longer makes that difference, but in French one only says 'tu' to a child or to close friends and relatives, never at first meeting, which is why Nick calls Camu impolite)
-Ensuite je n'aime point les menaces. Vous n'êtes qu'un mal-embouché, voilà ce que vous êtes. D'accord, c'est vôtre problème, après tout. Mais vous voulez me tuer, alors là, pas d'accord du tout ! Et puis qu'est-ce que au juste vous me reprochez ? = Furthermore I don't like menaces. You are a very rude person, that is what you are. OK, it's your problem after all. But you want to kill me, well, there I am not OK. Besides, what exactly do you have to reproach me?
-Monsieur, vous déshonorez l'Humanité toute entière par vôtre Inhumanité pire, vous déshonorez la France ! =Sir, you dishonour all of Humanity with your Inhumanity. Worse, you dishonour France
-Je me serai jamais imaginé qu'un véritable Français puisse oublier à ce point là ce qu'il doit à sa Patrie et à la République.= I could never have imagined that a true Frenchman would to that point forget what he owes to his country and the republic ('country' is but a poor rendering of the meaning of 'patrie')
-Vois-tu, p'tit gars, vois-tu, on c'est bien battu ici pendant la Guerre. = you see, little fellow, you see, people fought hard here during the War!
-C'est quoi la Guerre, Papy? = What is War, Grandpa ?
-Mais parfois la Liberté est à ce prix! Ah, je n'aurai pas été de ces lâches qui ont fuit en Quarante à Dunkerque grâce à ces braves Anglais pour retourner peu après , ah non, ça jamais, je me serai battu avec le Général ! = But sometimes Liberty is at that price! Ah, I would not have been one of those cowards who have fled in '40 at Dunkirk thanks to those good English, ah no, that never, I would have fought with the General. ( See the appropriate literature on 'the miracle of Dunkirk', the 'little ships' and General De Gaulle.)
-Ces salauds de Boches! = Those dirty Krauts!
-Et puis un peu ces Amerloques aussi = And then a bit those Amerags too.( A loque is a rag, hence: Amerags. An Englishman is un Angliche, a German un Boche, a Swiss un Swissard and a Belgian…un Belge, and that is not a compliment.)
-Tandis que la canaille se tenait planquée dans les caves des maisons et se plaignait encore de la destruction du pays! = While the dirty rabble was cowering in the caves of their houses and complained about the destruction of the country! (The fighting in the Bocage of Normandy was very hard and bloody with massive destruction, which dampened the gratitude of the liberated locals somewhat)
-On ne fait pas d'omelette sans casser des oeufs = one does not make an omelette without breaking eggs.
-Pour la Patrie, il n'y a pas de sacrifice qui compte. = For your country, there is no sacrifice that counts.
-C'est quoi la Patrie? = What is the country ?
-C'est çà, p'etit gars! C'est la France ! La République. C'est nous ! = It's that, little fellow ! It's France. The Republic. It's us! (There is no patriotism like French patriotism…)
-Mamy aussi? = Grandma to?
-Bien sûr = Of couse!
-Ben tiens! Comme si on pourrait faire un aussi bon Calvados comme ton Grand-papa, en Amérique! Avec les bonnes pommes de nôtre Normandie. = Hah ! As if one could make an as good Calvados like your Grandpapa does in America ! With the good apples of our Normandy. (Calvados is apple brandy)
-Dis, Papy, la tarte aux pommes, c'est aussi la France? = Say, Grandpa, apple pie, is that too France ?
-C'est l'ultime France= it is the ultimate France
-Moi j'aimerais bien manger l'ultime France maintenant ! Avec la crème fraîche, hein, Papy, hein, promis ? = Me I would like to eat the ultimate France now! With cream, hey, Grandpa, hey, promised? (Apple pie with cream is a Norman delicacy. Fraîche does not mean fresh when talking about cream, it is to distinguish from whipped cream which is crème chantilly. Clotted cream is crème fraîche épaisse.)
-Promis! Avec beaucoup de crème fraîche.= Promised ! With lots of cream.
-Ce Parisien te mènera à ta perte ma fille ! =That Parisian will lead you to your downfall, my daughter
-barbu- man with a beard
-On sait =one knows
-un vieux bourgeois = and old bourgeois (not a compliment in the moth of a Soixante Huitard)
-foutrecul = fuckarse.
-Je suis fier de l'être = I am proud to be it!
-Allons, soyons raisonable. =Come, let's be reasonable.
-Vôtre fiancée = your fiancée (Fiancée also means: girlfriend, like in Spanish 'novia')
-Ben tiens! Viminalis la douce, la plus belle, la plus blonde et la plus pure de toutes! La meilleure chose qui a frôlé la vie d'un fripon comme moi ! = Well see, Viminalis the sweet, the most beautiful, the blondest and the purest of all! The best thing that has touched the life of a bad guy like me! (Here Nick is also a bit quoting from Cyrano)
-Je l'ignorais. = I did not know it
-On ne peut plus hautain= one can't be more haughty.
-Tais-toi = shut up
-Et voilà qui me re-tutoie ! Chapeau l'éducation locale ! = And there he calls me tu again! Hats off to the local education.
-Mais c'est complètement débile! = But that is utterly moronic!
I hope that all the accents come out right and are not rendered by some odd symbol which makes the text hard to decipher. I've encountered that before.