All language subtitles for Uma.Abelha.Na.Chuva.DVDivX.by.[cathedral.pt.vu]

Another one.

A BEE IN THE RAIN

Based on the novel by
CARLOS DE OLIVEIRA

Screenplay and additional dialogue
FERNANDO LOPES

Director of Photography
MANUEL COSTA E SILVA

Original Soundtrack
MANUEL JORGE VELOSO

Executive Producer
FERNANDO MATOS SILVA

Editor and Director
FERNANDO LOPES

''To Jo�o Rodrigues and Maria Jo�o''
- �Ivaro...

�Ivaro!

�Ivaro!

She proceeded, all in white,
led by her father,

amid the murmur of the organ
and the whispered voices.

She was sure she was smiling.

But inside her a cry was forming
which had always been repressed

and now, after 20 years,
she still had it within herself.

Clara!

- What is she up to now?
- Ask Jacinto to prepare the carriage.

''I, �Ivaro Rodrigues Silvestre,
tradesman and farmer from Montouro,

''in the parish of S�o Caetano,
Borough of Corgos,

''do swear on my honour
that I have continually stolen

''from men on Earth
and God in Heaven.

''Even when I was serving
as the Lady of Montouro's butler,

''and maize for the poor
was in excess

''I filled my own granary with it.

''In my defence I also swear
that all I did was prompted

''by D� Maria dos Prazeres Pessoa
D'AIba Sancho Silvestre... ''

- My wife.
- ''My wife,

''and that I never stopped stealing,
at the counter, at the fairs,

''from the workers' wages

''and the inheritance of my brother,
Leopoldino, to whom I am the trustee

''selling his lands
without his knowledge,

''and who, to my shame,
is now returning from Africa

''and I cannot give him
the correct accounts.

''My remission begins
with this confession to the world.

''May the Father, the Son
and the Holy Ghost

''have mercy upon me
and anyone else who can do so.''

The first page of the next issue.

- I'll pay whatever you ask.
- Bu why this public confession?

I must settle my accounts with God
and mankind.

- Above all with God.
- What does your wife think about this?

She must never find out!

But, dear Silvestre, she's bound to
when the newspaper comes out.

I won't care then.
As they say,

'In for a penny in for a pound'.
So, how much are you charging me?

Damn, here she comes!

It seems I'm disturbing you.
Aren't you going to introduce me?

Maria dos Prazeres Pessoa
D'AIba Sancho Silvestre.

Just imagine, he walked all the way,
from Montouro in this weather.

I don't know what brought him here.
Whatever it was,

he has been sick,
having strange ideas

and you must excuse him.

Enough, Maria! Let's go!

Didn't Dr. Neto advise you to rest?

Where are your boots?

I think I'm dreaming.

If it's daytime, then light
is not enough to light a stony path.

It it's night, the stars shine
with an unusual brightness.

On our way everything looks dead.

Time is either tired
of this long journey, or asleep,

or it's also dead.

I have forgotten
the familiar landscape.

And can only see a long,
undulating desert,

the fleshy and twisted silhouette
of the cacti,

the sharp pebbles in our path.

It is raining.
Something like that.

Jacinto, what is it?

Indifferent, eh?

Superior to the hardship he gives me,
to the life he forces me to lead.

His Excellency nods and sleeps,

indifferent to what I say
and to the world.

For twenty years
I have been listening to his snoring,

Tiptoeing, so as not to waken him.

I may be wrong but I think
the horse may be lame...

Don't worry. Keep going.

Jacinto!
Stop and see if the horse is lame!

Well?

- He is, it's what I said.
- Alright, alright.

Go slowly, Jacinto.

And even if they tell you
to flay the horse, don't do it.

Removing the last leg
from one of these chickens

that the natives sold me
for the price of a cow

and amazed by the sun's immense
disc, diving at the end of the desert,

suddenly, framed against
the redness of the sunset,

I saw a man on a mount.
He was unquestionably European,

because he was wearing an overcoat.
The moment I saw him,

the man swayed, fell down

and started slowly crawling
towards me.

In a desperate effort
he straightened up,

and staggered a few steps.

Then he fell again and remained
prostate, as though dead,

against a tall tuft.

I shouted at one of my hunters
to go and help him.

And when he came back,
holding the man in his arms,

whom do I see?
Jos� Silveira.

Or rather, his poor skeleton

with the bones sticking out
of the skin,

which was drier than parchment
and more yellow than egg-yolk.

His eyes were aghast,
like two blood clots,

and his hair, formerly grey,
was now completely white.

''Water, he moaned''.

''Water for the love of Christ''.

�Ivaro.

�Ivaro.

What were you doing in Corgos?

What paper was that
you hid so quickly?

''My dear �Ivaro.

''Here I am
after six years in the inland.

''Africa is indescribable.
One has to come and see it.

''Where I was the natives
were not bad people.

''After being tamed,
which, even so, was difficult,

''they came with me in my quest,
for treasures, near Solomon's mines.

''In Montouro we had a book on that
which my sister-in-law bought.

''The chief of the tribe gave me
30 Natives, two elephants, luggage

and two women for my personal use''.

Don't read this part
to my sister-in-law.

Don't forget that a black woman
when squeezed

is juicier than an orange.
It is simply necessary to fill her

with some of the spirit
they have here.

I'd like to see a white woman
who could match that.

- Why were you at the newspaper?
- Get off my back!

I will.
When you are less drunk.

Who's drunk?
Who? You fucking aristocrat!

You only talk about coats-of-arms,

but I've been feeding you
for 20 years!

My father had a coachman
who spoke like you.

And once he had no choice
but to have him whipped.

If he were still alive,
what wouldn't he do to you?

You're drunker and more vulgar
than any coachman.

Maria!

Open the door, Maria.

For God's sake, open the door.

I want to apologise.

It was the brandy talking, not me!

I know it was the brandy.

Now leave me alone.

The coachmen are fed up!

God will spare you

From the burdens of this world

And the dangers abroad...

And if we're found, Jacinto?

Don't worry. It's still quite dark.

Damn my old man and his wish
of marrying me to a farmer.

Look at the master.
He's not man enough for his wife.

He did't even dare to give her a son.

Get off me!

- Come here!
- Jacinto!

The coachmen are fed up...

Everything's gone.

The damask-covered chairs,
the carved wardrobes,

the sideboard
with very fine crystal,

the turned beds,
the paintings on the walls,

the silverware...

Everything's gone
with our tears.

The jewellery, the rings.

Everything's gone.

The rifles, the greyhounds,
the horses, the carriages...

the old dagger
studded with diamonds.

Everthing is gone with our tears.

The time is approaching
when my most precious of treasures

will be stolen from me.

Oh Teresa, Teresa.
Thus will they separate us.

Maybe forever.

I'd rather die a thousand deaths
than endure this suffering.

Entire nights go by
with endless nightmares.

Sometimes I see Teresa crying,

amidst the ghostly visions

that torture my suffering soul.

I hear her sobs and anguished cries,

torn from her bosom...

Oh Teresa, Teresa.

Thus will they separate us.
Maybe forever.

Oh Teresa, Teresa.

Thus will they separate us.
Maybe forever.

Oh Teresa, Teresa.

Thus will they separate us.
Maybe forever.

Dragging Teresa
to a convent further away

the hideous spectre
of Balthazar Coutinho's cynicism,

sneering at our love
and preventing our happiness.

Ah, but the villain will pay
with his life

for his wicked proceedings.

Here come the tormentors
of the innocent.

I can hear them.

I must hide.

May God protect me.

She was my only daughter,
Balthazar!

Exactly. If you had another,
the loss would be less painful

and her disobedience less dishonest.
Now dear Uncle,

I see no other way
than to put balm on the sore.

- We'll get nowhere with plasters.
- You're right.

Uncle, she's coming.

- Teresa!
- I am here.

- It is not too late.
- For what?

- To be a good daughter.
- My conscience bears no guilt...

It's not over yet?
Don't you want to go home,

and forget this villain,

who is the cause
of our misfortunes?

No, father. My fate is the Convent.
I shall never forget him.

I shall be a disobedient daughter,
but never a liar.

- In that case, let's go.
- Not even here?

- Are you talking to me, Teresa?
- I am indeed!

Not even here am I free from your
hateful presence?

I am one of the servants
that my cousin takes with her.

Some days ago, there were two
worthy of accompanying her.

But a murderer out there
killed them.

I offer my services
for lack of theirs.

- I will do without your niceties.
- But I will not do without serving you.

That's how it must be...

The final accounts have not yet
been made, my dear cousin.

Simon.

It is incredible that this scoundrel
should have come!

- Me, a scoundrel? Why?
- Scoundrel and murderer!

Out of my sight!

I do not neglect your lordship.

Dear lady, suffer with resignation
as I do.

Bear your misfortunes
accepting the violence thereof.

And perhaps
half way to your Calvary,

divine mercy
will double your strength.

What is that villain saying?!

- Simon!
- Calm down, Uncle!

He dares to comfort your daughter,
vile though this act is.

It's too much.

I shall crush you right here,
you villain.

The villain is he who threatens me
without stepping one pace!

Haven't I made that clear?
Punishing you before the servants!

You are mere scum!

If that is so, I hope never to meet
your lordship again.

Such lack of dignity!
I shall surely have him beaten

by the first rogue on the corner...

- Ah, riff raff!
- Balthazar!

Now the time has come.

The most precious of treasures
will be stolen from me.

Oh Teresa, Teresa.

Thus will they separate us.

Who knows?

Maybe forever.

Oh, I'd rather die a thousand deaths
than endure this suffering.

Entire nights go by
in endless nightmares.

Sometimes I see Teresa tortured,

seized by the same demons
that haunt me.

I hear her sobs and anguished cries,

torn from her bosom,

asking Heaven for deliverance
from her torturers.

Next to me,
Mariana's candid face

begging, with joined hands.

Further on,
I see Tadeu de Albuquerque

dragging Teresa to a Convent
further away.

Next to them, the hideous
cynicism of Balthazar,

scorning at our love
and preventing our happiness.

Oh, Clara...

She slinks around,
full of desire.

''Oh Ana, oh Ana,
try to get me a man.''

And she eats you with her eyes.

The Hail Mary's.

Here come the tormentors
of the innocent. I can hear them.

I must hide
and may God protect me.

A strike is being prepared,
Master Ant�nio.

Is it true that you love Clara?

Is it true that you love Clara?

Yes or no?

You know it's true, Master.

What would you say if I offered
her hand to you?

- What would you say?!
- I would say yes three times.

Well, she's yours.

I have some accounts to settle.

She's yours if you help me
settle them.

I like the pay.

You've found your man.

We'll run away. It's a big world
and one can live anywhere.

- What about my father? I'm afraid.
- Never mind that!

Jacinto, I'm afraid.

Who is that with her?

Who is that with her?

I think it's Jacinto, Master.

- Silvestre's coachman?
- I think so.

You think so, or you are sure?

It is him, Master.

We must catch him.
Go and get your club.

- What are we going to do to him?
- Are you giving up already?

- What will we do to Jacinto?
- Do you want the girl, or not?

That's settled.
Let's hide him and wait until dusk.

- It's you groaning, Master Ant�nio?
- Like hell it is!

Then it's him! I never heard donkeys
groan like that!

Hit him again, Marcelo!
Finish him off!

Catch the animal!

Get him, he's taking our man!

Catch the animal!

Get him, he's taking our man!
Grab him or we're lost!

I'll go after him,
but I'm not coming back.

Well then
say goodbye to the girl!

Marcelo, wait for me!

Marcelo! Marcelo!!!

Marcelo!

I'm back, Master Ant�nio.

So you are!

I knew you weren't a man
to leave business unfinished.

Can I have Clara?

Hit him again and we'll see.

Get the club.
It's time to finish him off.

Did you get him or not?

Jacinto.

Jacinto!

Jacinto!

Now you must give me Clara,
Master Ant�nio.

Who knows?
You may have won her.

We must hurry, Master,
the sun is rising.

Let it rise.

- And as for the girl...
- You said you'd give her to me!

But I've been thinking.

Do you know why we killed him?

Because you said so.

Good answer.

Clara!

Clara!

Clara!

So, will you give her to me?

I think you have lost her.

Clara!

Marcelo!!

Marcelo!

Hail Mary, full of grace,
the Lord be with you.

Blessed be You among women.

Blessed is the fruit of your womb,
Jesus.

Hail Mary, mother of God,
beseech us poor sinners.

Now and at the hour of our death,
Amen.

Hail Mary, full of grace,
the Lord be with you.

Blessed be You among women.

Blessed is the fruit of your womb,
Jesus.

Hail Mary, mother of God,
beseech us poor sinners.

Now and at the hour of our death,
Amen.

You must listen to me, Maria,

I may be killed and I don't want
this on my conscience.

Don't abandon me, don't leave me.

The coachman was boasting
about the way you looked at him.

They are laughing about us
and our life. He was killed.

I went to the old man and told him
his daughter and Jacinto

wanted to elope together
and were flirting in the cow-shed.

The old man went crazy.
I should have kept my mouth shut.

- I should have kept my mouth shut.
- Don't worry, they won't kill you!

Dreams about dreams.
Always one mistake on top of another.

- To forget you... and our life.
- Shut up, for God's sake.

What I never imagined
was that he realised it.

Even now that he's dead,
I hate that damned coachman.

If it's of any good to you,
I hate him too,

For having understood
what was so much my own,

so private that I didn't even
admit it to myself.

Now are you still surprised
that I dream, �Ivaro?

Did Madame D'Arg�res show up
after all?

Madame D'Arg�res did show up
and spoiled everything.

Who invited Madame D'Arg�res?

No-one. The Baron told her.

And she came to the woods,
as if taking a stroll.

C�cile, the Knight De Tellier and
their friends were not too pleased.

But C�cile's father invited her
to stay for the picnic.

That marquis!
I always said he was an idiot.

The ruined marquis married
Madame D'Arg�res.

Of course, the knight could not
become his own mistress' son-in-law.

There's the desertion then.
Do you understand, C�cile?

The desertion.

Love, as you have perhaps
always wanted it.

The purity from cradle to death.

C�cile, C�cile...

Tresses unloosed
over a trembling body.

Someone's hands, as gentle
as the rain in the fields.

But what does all that matter?

Gracious me,
didn't the knight do something?

Yesterday, she and I cried
in the last chapter.

The tears, the ever-present radiance
of the memory of Armand.

The happiness of renunciation.

Marriages of convenience.

Madame D'Arg�res and the marquis.

And Armand...

Armand lost forever.

I learnt the last words by heart.

C�cile's was too great a passion

to be burned and consumed
in common love.

Armand Tellier and she
finally realised that.

And now, in the gentle renunciation...

Where is the brandy in this house?

''In my defence I also swear
that all I did was prompted

''by Maria dos Prazeres Pessoa
D'AIba Sancho Silvestre,

''my wife,

''and I never stopped stealing,
at the counter, at the fairs,

''from the workers' wages

''and the inheritance of my brother,
Leopoldino, to whom I am the trustee

''selling his lands
without his knowledge

''and who, to my shame,
is now returning from Africa.

This film was only possible

thanks to the impartial co-operation
of the following people and entities:

We would also like to thank
the facilities granted by

Count Bobone in all
the outdoor shootings.

Translation: Jacqueline Sarbib
Subtitles: CRISTBET, Lda.