Original subtitles

MOSFILM

Creative Association of Writers and Cinematographers

ANDREI RUBLYOV

Screenplay by

Andrei MIKHALKOV-KONCHALOVSKY Andrei TARKOVSKY

Directed by Andrei TARKOVSKY

Director of Photography Vadim YUSOV

Production Designer Ye. CHERNYAYEV

with participation of I. NOVODERYOZHKIN, S. VORONKOV

Music by Vyacheslav OVCHINNIKOV

Sound by Inna ZELENTSOVA

English Subtitles by Tatiana KAMENEVA

Andrei Rublyov Anatoly SOLONITSYN

Kirill Ivan LAPIKOV

Daniil Chorny Nikolai GRINKO

Theophanes the Greek Nikolai SERGEYEV

God's Fool - Irma RAUSCH Boriska - Nikolai BURLYAEV

Grand Prince, Little Prince Yuri NAZAROV

Yu. NIKULIN, R. BYKOV N. GRABBE, M. KONONOV

S. KRYLOV B. BEISHENALIYEV, B. MATYSIK

A. OBUKHOV, Volodya TITOV

ANDREI RUBLYOV Part One

Arkhip, give me the belt.

There you go.

Bring it up!

Oh God, I pray we make it.

Hurry up, untie it!

- Arkhip! Hold on a minute! - Hurry, Yefim!

I'm here... here...

Wait...

Cut the rope, uncle!

Stick the brand into his mug!

I'm flying!

Yefim! What are you doing?

I'm flying!

Arkhip, I'm flying!

Hey, you! Catch me!

Oh, my God! What is it?!

Arkhipushka!!

BUFFOON

Moscow is full of painters even without us.

Don't worry, we'll find some job.

Sure. But it's still annoying that...

Yes. Take this birch-tree. Every day you walked by, without noticing it.

But when you know that you won't see it again...

Look at it, it's so beautiful!

- Sure thing, ten years. - Nine.

- It's 9 for you, for me it's 10. - No. For me it's 7, for you, 9.

Rain! Let's take cover here!

Come on! It's no big deal.

There went a buffoon breed,

They indulged in honey and mead.

They met a high-ranked boyar, They met a one-eyed Tartar.

They amused him all along, They honored him with a song.

Our boyar is a lucky devil, His is a house of plentiful level.

His wife has a gorgeous body,

She may show it, but not to everybody.

Good woman, open the door, Your master is coming.

And the boyar, what a spunk! Tried to make them funk.

All of you, buffoons, Are drunks and thieves,

You're flogged and will be 's long as anybody breathes.

You vagabonding slime, You'll die in your grime.

Soon all of your make Will be burnt on the stake.

Rap! And he was grabbed

Somewhere between his knee and his spleen.

The boyar used to have a beard.

Promptly, with a grin, They shaved him clean.

And missing one's beard is wrong,

Because even women have beards Where they belong.

The boyar whimpers and howls, Hopping like a flea on the balls.

Even a goat has a beard. I better go home to my endeared.

So he knocked on his window. Oh?

His wife would not recognize him, no.

She saw a face, bald and bare,

And failed to grab him by his hair.

She socked it to him with a pan. Bang!

So that he behaved, and not raved.

Shame and disgrace! Better put pants on your face.

Look! Isn't it weird? A boyar without his beard!

The boyar took to running and roaming, After him the geese were swarming.

He ran with no luck, Lame like a duck.

A priest on the road Took him for a broad.

The priest, a horny stag, Him to the bushes he dragged.

If you strip him of his pants

And look at his both ends, There's no difference!

Which one is my mazard?

It's raining outside. Can we wait here?

Come on in.

Want some mead? You're dripping wet.

- Thank you. We don't drink. - Nor of women we ever think.

A priest is God's doing, a buffoon is the devil's.

What if my old woman goes to the bushes, too?

Yours will be the first to go there.

Yours will be the first to go, anyway.

Come here!

- Where have you been? - Just took a little walk.

Shall we go?

Hey, Danila! The rain's over. Let's go.

Christ be with you, good woman.

THEOPHANES THE GREEK

Have mercy! I'm innocent!

Maybe he IS innocent?

They've slandered me, vipers!

Anyone here?

- Did you come to have a look? - Yes, to have a look.

Go ahead, look. Before we put drying oil on.

So you're the Greek, Theophanes?

Yes. What are you looking at me for? Look over there.

Where are you from?

From the Andronnikov Monastery.

Then you must be Andrei Rublyov.

No.

I hear everybody praising Rublyov at the top of their voices.

Well, he's a good master.

But he'll never be able to do this.

It's amazing, with the colors being so quiet.

Oh, God! It's just...

Why did you stop praising? Speak out.

I can't. I can't even put it in words.

There's a great truth in Konstantin Kostechensky's saying:

"You'll penetrate the crux of every thing

if you describe it truthfully."

And Andrei... Well, I'm ready to say it to his face.

He's like brother to me.

They praise him, that's right.

He puts the paint in a thin layer, very delicately, very skillfully.

But something is missing...

Fear is missing, and faith!

The faith that comes from the bottom of one's heart.

And simplicity.

Remember what Epiphanius said

about Sergius's virtue:

"Simplicity without flourish".

That's what it is. It's holy.

Simplicity without flourish.

You couldn't put it better.

I see you're clever!

But what good is there in it?

Maybe it's better, in the darkness of your ignorance,

to follow your heart's calling?

Too much wisdom brings much sorrow.

He that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.

Proshka! Where's the drying oil? Whose ears I'll have to box?

Where have they all gone?

They say you finish your paintings very quickly.

That's the only way I can paint. I get bored very soon.

Once I puttered over it for a whole week and finally had to give it up!

And you threw it away?

Why? Used it to press sauerkraut.

I'm fed up with it up to here!

I've got apprentices galore, and not one of them is any good.

They can't even read manuscripts.

Listen, will you be my assistant?

Stop joking. Don't laugh at me.

I'm not joking.

I have no one to help me decorate the Annunciation Cathedral in Moscow.

The scaffolding's been already erected there. Do you understand?

I understand, but I think I'm not up to the job.

I'll explain everything to you. Have you ever painted on raw gesso ground?

Sure, with brains like yours!

Even these fools of mine can work the brush.

I said no. Let's not talk about it any more.

Well, as you wish...

But don't regret it later. I don't forget easily!

I may regret, but you're doing a wrong thing.

A poor monk came to you,

and you liked talking with him about books.

So you decided to do him a great favor.

As a matter of fact, I haven't touched a book for three years.

And I don't want to. My path is different now.

- I'm going to die soon. - Come on, don't say that.

Yes, I'm going to die. The other day, I saw an angel in my dream.

"Come with me," he says.

And I answer: "I'm going to die soon anyway, without your help."

Won't you change your mind?

All right. But on one condition.

What do you want? Money? We'll split it in half. Is it a deal?

No. I'll be working for free.

But only if you yourself come for me to the monastery

and in front of the whole community and our bishop

ask me to come and help you.

With all our brethren present, and Andrei Rublyov, too.

Then I'll be like your slave, I'll serve you like a dog

until I die.

- And what is your name? - Kirill.

The Orthodox people! Truth-seekers and Christians!

For how long are you going to torture the villain?

Will there be an end to it?

You're all great sinners yourselves, but you take it upon you to judge!

Don't you have any fear of God?

The Prince commands you to come to Moscow.

To decorate the Annunciation Cathedral,

together with Theophanes the Greek.

Is he really Andrei Rublyov?

That's true. He is Andrei Rublyov. And I'm Kirill.

Theophanes the Greek tells you to come to Moscow.

He wants to see you.

I thank Theophanes, too.

Tell him...

that... well... I'll come.

My head is splitting!

Bring it here.

You may take with you whatever assistants you want.

Tomorrow you'll have to be in Moscow.

Is there a smithy nearby? I'm afraid I'll fall down again.

There's a chapel outside the gates. Next will be the smithy.

Farewell, God's people!

We could go today, Danila. What do you think?

Let's get our things and set out.

Before Theophanes may change his mind.

- I'm not going. - What do you mean?

- What am I to do without you? - Do as you like.

I thought we'd go together.

Why were you thinking for me? I was not invited.

I can't go without you.

You can! You said 'yes' without asking me.

You were too quick to agree. Theophanes had only to beckon.

Never mind, though.

You're not the first and you won't be the last.

I've got a lot of work here even without you.

Very well, then!

Foma! Alexei! Come on!

Pyotr! Get ready! You're going with me.

Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth;

and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth.

And walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes.

But know though, that for all these things

God will bring thee into judgement.

Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth,

while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh,

when thou shalt say,

I have no pleasure in them.

Or ever the silver cord be loosed,

or the golden bowl be broken,

or the pitcher be broken at the fountain,

or the wheel be broken at the cistern.

Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was:

and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.

Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher; All is vanity.

Kirill! Have you seen Father Nikodim?

Where could he go so early in the morning?

He took my mittens and vanished into thin air.

I have to sort out firewood, and the logs are ice-cold.

Why do you keep the torch on? It's morning already.

Did you feed my dog?

You didn't ask me to, did you?

What's the matter?

Go...

Have you forgotten something?

I came to say goodbye.

You already did.

I came to say goodbye, but...

I was feeling pretty bad as it was.

And to make it worse, the devil has brought about this enmity between us.

I can't leave like that. I need to confess.

Will you hear it out?

I won't be able to do anything, Danila.

We've lived in the same cell for years.

I have nobody but you.

I see the world with your eyes.

I listen with your ears.

With your heart...

I'm happy for you, you silly man.

You can't imagine how glad I am.

Go to Moscow, paint, and I'll be proud of you.

The devil tripped me up yesterday also.

Forgive me, too.

I'll be back, Danila.

Where are you going? What about the vespers?

You'll serve it without me, and I'll do without you.

What's the matter with you, Kirill?

I'm tired of it. Tired of lying! I'm going in the world.

Why did we leave the Trinity?

Why don't you say it?

Because our brothers put their interests above faith.

And here again? We thought we'd be serving God by our faith and work,

and what have we got?

Our monastery looks like a market place.

You, God's servant, how much did you pay to be ordained? Twenty souls?

And you kept following the prior, bargaining with him.

For two or, luckily, for one water meadow,

you wanted to win eternal bliss for yourself.

You all know it, but you won't say anything!

You're pretending you don't notice anything!

I might have kept silent, too, and put up with all this abomination,

if I had any talent,

or at least some ability to paint icons.

But God didn't give me talent, and thank God!

I'm happy that I got no talent,

for because of that I'm honest and pure before God!

And one more thing, brethren...

What can you tell us that we don't know?

But do you know what happens to ones like you?

I'm just...

Get out of here, you viper's breed!

You'll thrive in the world! Blasphemer!

You see...

Listen, Kirill...

It is written: And Jesus went into the temple of God

and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew

the tables of the moneychangers and the seats of them that sold doves.

And said unto them:

My house shall be called the house of prayer,

but ye have made it a den of thieves.

THE ANDREI PASSION

I washed Danila's brushes for 3 years before he trusted me with an icon.

And not to correct it, but just to clean it.

Do you trust me?

But you're lying all the time!

The other night you came back with your cassock all glued together.

- Where had you been? - At the apiary.

And you said you went to the Andronnikov monastery.

Look at yourself!

Apply some damp dirt to it, or you'll be bloated like a hog.

It must be too late already. It won't help.

You're making up things on and on.

I even thought you might have some disease.

What disease?

There must be such a disease

when a man can't stop lying.

Look, Foma! Look, I say!

- Look where? - Never mind, blockhead.

I can't understand why I took you to be my assistant.

You say one thing one day and another the next. Didn't you tell Theophanes:

"This boy never misses a thing and he likes the azure"?

You were a different person then. You tried hard, you never lied.

You know what Theophanes said about your azure?

"What good is in it, in the azure?"

And you love to eat.

It beats me how you can paint after that?

Can you think of anything else when your belly growls?

All you can hear is that growling.

You're a lucky man, Foma. Everything's plain and simple for you.

Only through a prayer our soul can discern what's invisible.

Look! What's that?

So, you decided to leave the apostles on the left?

Foma, have you removed the glue from the fire?

Have you removed the glue?

He likes the azure!

He should be beaten the crap out of every Saturday!

Where did you see all this,

when everybody only think of saving their asses?

Even those women of Moscow gave their hair to the Tartars as a ransom.

They preferred to go bald rather than be tortured.

What has unselfishness to do with it?

It's not right to say that.

It has always been that women in Russia were oppressed and unhappy.

Anyway, it's not what I mean...

All right, tell me in all honesty, are our people ignorant or not?

I can't hear you!

Yes, ignorant! But who's to blame for that?

Their stupidity is to blame!

Have you never sinned because you're ignorant?

Yes, and I have, too. O God, forgive, reconcile and curb our passions!

The Day of Judgement is coming. We'll all burn like candles.

Mind my word, it will be hell!

People will lump the blame for their sins on one another,

will be justifying themselves before the Almighty.

I don't understand how you can paint, having thoughts like that.

You even accept praise.

I'd have taken vows of schema long ago and settled down in a cave for good.

I serve God, not people.

Today they praise, tomorrow they'll abuse what they praised only yesterday,

and after that they'll forget both you and me. They'll forget everything!

All is vanity! All is useless!

The human race had already perpetrated all stupidities and wrongs,

and now it's just repeating them.

Everything falls back into place again, and goes round and round...

If Jesus came back to Earth again, He would be once more crucified!

If you remember only evil,

you can never be happy before God.

What?

Maybe some things should be forgotten, but not every thing.

I don't know how to say it...

If you don't know, then be silent! Listen to me!

You think that good can be done only single-handedly?

Good! Have you forgotten the New Testament?

Jesus gathered people in the temples, too. He taught them.

And then they gathered together in order to execute Him.

"Crucify him!" they shouted.

And His disciples? Judas betrayed Him, Peter renounced Him.

They all abandoned Him! And they were the best!

But they repented!

That was much later, don't you understand? When it was too late.

It's true, people do evil, too. And it's very sad.

Judas had sold Christ out. But do you remember who bought Him?

The people.

The Pharisees and their scribes.

They couldn't find any witness, however hard they might have tried.

Who would slander Him, the innocent?

And the Pharisees were great deceivers, literate and cunning.

They even learned to read and write

in order to gain power, taking advantage of His ignorance.

People ought to be reminded more often that they're human beings,

that all Russians are of one blood and of one land!

Evil can be found anywhere.

There will always be those ready to sell you for 30 pieces of silver.

And the Russian man gets more and more misfortunes.

The Tartars raid him thrice a season, then comes a famine or a plague.

But he keeps working and working,

bearing his cross with humility.

Never despairing, but enduring it silently.

And only praying to God to give him enough strength to endure.

Can the Almighty not forgive such men their ignorance?

You know it yourself that whenever something goes wrong,

or you're exhausted and despairing, and suddenly...

you meet some human eyes and it works

as if you took a Communion, and the weight is lifted from your heart.

Isn't it so?

You were talking about Jesus.

Perhaps He was born and crucified for only one reason:

to reconcile God with man.

Jesus comes from God, it means He's Almighty.

And His dying on the cross must have been preordained.

His crucifixion and death were God's doing.

And it was supposed to provoke hatred not of those who crucified Him,

but of those who loved Him, if they had been with Him at that moment.

For they loved Him as a man.

But He abandoned them of His own free will,

having shown injustice, or even cruelty.

Do you realize what you're saying?

For these words, you'll be packed off to the North to fix up icons.

Am I not right?

You always say what you think yourself.

With me, it's different. I'm a worldly man, a free man.

FEAST

Sergey, come here!

Coming! Start the fire in the meantime!

Foma, let's go fetch some firewood.

Peter have seen

neither the Assumption, nor the Dmitrievsky Cathedral.

Never mind. After he has roamed the woods,

sweeping his brush, he'll see what's right.

We won't be able to finish painting the cathedral before the cold spell.

It will be June soon.

What is it?

Wait. Do you hear it?

- A nightingale. - Nothing else?

Can you see it?

- What is it? - Let's go! Come on!

Doing witchery.

Andrei! Where are you going?

- Come here... - Wait...

I saw you, black vermin, lurking there.

You, God's servants, need to know everything.

Let me go!

We'll let you go first thing in the morning.

With a stone on your neck, for you to swim faster to your destination.

A fire will fall down from heavens and will scorch you all!

The Day of Judgement will come at last!

We'll fix you right to this crosspiece.

Just like Jesus Christ.

What are you doing, men?

You can't do it to me, men! Don't you understand? It's a sin!

At least tie me with my feet up. Please, brothers!

Let him hang.

Let him spend the night like that, unless he ascends.

He will be here alright.

Why did you ask to hang you head down?

You'd have been even worse off.

And why did you curse us? Threatening us with a fire?

Because it's a sin to run about naked and do things like that.

This is the night when everyone should love.

Is loving a sin?

You call it love tying a man up like that?

It's just in case you decided to bring guards or monks here.

To convert us to your faith by force.

You think it's easy to live in fear, like we do?

You fear because you either don't love at all,

or love shamelessly, bestially, not with your heart.

Love should be brotherly.

Does it make any difference? It's still love.

Go on, untie me.

Where've you been?

Where were you?

The woods're all but impassable here. I've got all scratched up.

But the locals even like it, they got used to it.

People do everything out of habit.

I guess, old people don't have to think about anything.

Each day for them rolls by itself.

Or maybe, it's even very comforting for them:

it drags on and on from morn till night, with no end.

Just look at yourself!

All scratched and black and blue.

Aren't you ashamed to appear like that before your pupils?

- Couldn't you come back sooner? - I couldn't.

Well, it's your sin, your conscience, and your prayers.

Catch her! Grab the woman!

- Catch him! - Grab her!

Run, Martha!

What's the matter with you? The three of you can't manage one filthy man?

Why are they doing it? Why?

Because they won't believe in one God. Damn pagans!

Don't look, Sergey! You shouldn't look.

We'll go on living as we used to!

Go on, and no tricks.

Help me, Fyodor!

What's the matter with you, men?

Can't you subdue a woman?

Where are you going? She will drown you in a jiffy!

Martha! Swim faster!

THE LAST JUDGEMENT

- Foma! - What?

May I go and take a swim?

- Forget it! - I'm too hot!

It's not hot. Stop lying.

Let him go and take a swim.

All he can do is sit in the water. He's just imagining it's hot.

It's I who said first it's hot, not Sergey.

Enough! That's it! You want to swim, go and swim!

Go on! Why are you sitting? Go!

- Where's Andrei? - He's out.

Something has happened... Such a thing...

Well...

I dropped in at our bishop's, and there was such a commotion!

The bishop, all livid, was running about in his underwear.

"I can't stand it any longer," he says. "That's it!"

He was speaking about you.

"It's been two months since everything was ready for their work,

and they're not doing anything, just loitering about.

They'd demanded an exorbitant price, and they haven't done a thing yet!"

- Did you really ask a lot of money? - Oh, come on!

"It makes no difference to me," he says.

"Whether it is Daniil Chorny or Andrei Rublyov! I don't care!"

"What's going on?" he says. And he made a face like that.

"What is it?" he says. "What do I care if it's Rublyov? If it's Andrei?"

"I need the cathedral to be painted by the fall, and that's it!" he says.

He sent a messenger to the Grand Prince with a complaint.

Sent a messenger to the Grand. You mind that.

What? You really... haven't started yet?

You know... you better start... or else...

- Where's Andrei? - He's gone somewhere again.

Can't you do it without him? Start without him.

What's so funny? There're so many of you.

If he hasn't decided yet, there are enough of you!

Two heads are better that one...

Ah, Andrei, Andrei!

You see, a messenger already went to complain to the Prince.

Just say 'yes' or 'no'?

Yes or no.

Hadn't we decided all in Moscow?

We'd agreed on everything up to the last detail.

The Grand Prince himself had approved it.

What is still unclear to you then?

What have we been shouting ourselves hoarse about for two months?

Maybe I'm too old, maybe I'm out of my mind?

"The Last Judgement". Just go ahead and paint it.

Or maybe we better turn down this work?

Really, let's turn it down.

And how am I going to look people in the eyes? I'll burn with shame.

We're losing precious time! The weather is warm and dry.

We could've already finished the domed ceiling. And the pillars, too.

And we could've made them so beautiful and vivid!

We could depict the sinners boiling in tar in such a way that...

it would make one's flesh creep.

I know how to paint the devil, with smoke from his nose and eyes like...

Smoke is not the point!

- What is the point then? - I don't know!

- Why won't you look me in the eye? - I can't!

I can't paint this. It's against me. Can't you understand?

I don't want to scare people. Try to understand, Danila.

Come to your senses! It's the Last Judgement, that's what it is!

It's not my invention.

No, I can't!

Why didn't you say it in Moscow?

We shouldn't have taken it up in the first place.

It's so impure!

That's how I am! You seem to have failed to cultivate purity in me.

I'm leaving you. This kind of work is not for me.

Thank you for everything, for the clips on my nose.

You've taught me something, that's enough. I'm going to work.

They invited me to decorate a chapel in Pafnutiev.

It's not a big deal, but at least it's something.

I'm going to paint "The Last Judgement".

Anyone going with me?

All right, stay. But be sure not to regret it later!

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels,

but have not love, I have become sounding brass.

And though I have the gift of prophesy,

and understand... all knowledge, and though I have all faith,

so that I could remove mountains,

but have not love, I am nothing.

And though I bestow all my goods... and though I give my body to be burned,

but have not love,

it profits me nothing!

Love suffers long, and is kind;

love envies not; love does not parade itself,

is not puffed up, dos not behave itself unseemly,

seeks not her own, is not easily provoked, thinks no evil;

does not rejoice in iniquity,

but rejoices in the truth;

bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails...

But whether there be prophesies, they shall fail;

whether there be tongues, they'll cease; ...knowledge, it shall vanish away.

For we know in part...

Well, Princess, is it any good?

To splash milk around is sinful. It's naughty.

Why is it sinful?

Just because. Go on, wipe me up.

It'll dry up by itself.

Let's go with me for a walk by the river.

Let go of me, Stepan! Let go, or I'll send you to the stable!

What do you think? Do you like it?

For me, it couldn't be better. It's so light and beautiful.

Light...

Come on, take her away from here. The nurses have spoiled her rotten.

Don't worry, no one could've built you a mansion like we have.

Who could decorate it so beautifully? And the carving?

Only Mityai can do it. He carves without marking.

Just like a bird singing. Look at it!

Maybe it's like a bird, but...

For me it's all right to sleep in a barn, but you're a Grand Prince.

What? Don't you like it?

Everything has to be repainted. The walls and the ceiling.

To make it brighter and more vivid.

I've been in this business forty years!

What matters is not your skill, but to be able to glorify the prince.

We're not going to redo anything.

It's time for us to leave. We've been hired for another job.

They expect us in Zvenigorod.

Where?

At your brother's. The stone's already been brought up there.

Very good stone. Whiter than this one.

We agreed on it when your brother was here at Easter time.

"Do whatever you like," he said. "I won't spare any money.

Just make me the best mansion."

Well, if it's Zvenigorod, let it be Zvenigorod!

I looked at the prince, he just stood still.

When I told him about Zvenigorod?

He was just horror-stricken.

He's afraid that his brother will go one up on him.

- And who carved this? - I did.

Why didn't you fix it into the wall?

It didn't work.

- A fine beast. - It crumbled all the way.

I'd warned the prince not to scrimp on the stone.

He must be regretting it now that he knows about Zvenigorod.

Come on, move!

Where's Stepan?

Where did Stepan ride to?

I guess he went to Zvenigorod.

All right then.

My hands are dirty.

We're going to build his younger brother a mansion no worse that this.

- He's got a better stone? - Yes, much better.

- Look! Stepan! - What's he doing here?

Hold it, old man!

You, Goat! Help him. Hide him in the bushes.

Where's my whip?

- Mikola! - Mityai!

Anyone seen my whip?

Damn it! I've lost my whip.

Hey, Goat! Have you seen my whip?

Sergey, read from the Scriptures.

- What place? - Whatever you like.

Now I praise you, brethren, that you remember me in all things

and keep the ordinances as I delivered them to you.

But I would have you know

that the head of every man is Christ

and the head of the woman is the man, and the head of Christ is God.

Every man praying or prophesying, having his head covered,

dishonoreth his head.

But every woman that prayeth or prophesyeth with her head uncovered

dishonoreth her head,

for that is even all one as if she were shaven.

For if the woman be not covered, let her also be shorn.

But if it be a shame for a woman to be shorn or shaven, let her be covered.

For a man indeed ought not to cover his head,

since he is the image and glory of God;

but the woman is the glory of the man.

For the man is not of the woman, but the woman of the man.

Neither was the man created for the woman, but the woman for the man.

For this cause ought the woman to have power on her head,

because of the angels.

Nevertheless, neither is the man without woman, neither the woman without man...

Go on.

For as the woman is of the man, even so is the man also by the woman;

but all things of God.

Judge among yourselves. Is it proper for a woman

praying to God uncovered?

Doth not even nature itself teach you

that if a man has long hair, it is a shame onto him?

But if a woman has long hair, it is a glory to her;

for her hair is given her...

Why did you stop? Go on!

...it is a glory to her. For her hair is given her for...

Danila! Listen, Danila!

Feast! It's the feast, Danila! And you were saying...

They're not sinners, are they?

How can she be a sinner, even if she doesn't wear a kerchief?

Some sinner!

Leave him alone. Let this servant of God repent.