All language subtitles for The.Young.Pope.S01E09.1080p.BluRay.x264-GreenBlade-eng

God isn't for you Lenny.

God is for men
who have no use for freedom.

You're wrong about abortion.

You're spreading a sorrow
you don't even understand.

And that's the worst thing
a human being can do.

You've made the kind of mistake
that should be avoided at all costs

introducing concepts that taken
by themselves are true,

but which, when locked together,

constitute
a system that's overly rigid.

When it comes to abortion,
rigidity is the only option:

there's no getting around it.

It's a crime,

forbidden and punished in the book
of Exodus Chapter 21, verses 22-25,

you know that.

22: "When men have a fight
and injured a pregnant woman

and she suffers a miscarriage, but
no further injury,

the guilty one shall be fined

as much as the woman's husband
demands and he shall pay

in the presence of the judges".

23: "But if injury ensues,
you shall pay life for life,

24, "eye for eye, tooth for tooth,
hand for hand, foot for foot."

25 "burn for burn, wound for wound,
stripe for stripe."

The Church has always maintain
this tradition and

it is only modern laxity that
wishes to turn sins into rights:

not to encourage them,

no one is actually
in favor of abortion,

but to undermine
the principle of authority.

Oh, come on Lenny,

you know these verses are a little
more complicated than that:

yes the litigant pays damages
in case of an abortion

or suffers death if the woman dies
in the course of losing the baby,

but that's not what it is about,

this is about compassion, empathy.

Bouvier?

Are you seriously going to waste my
time with the Bouvier's nonsense?

Post-revolutionary France?

Or the bullshit of St. Alphonsus?

It isn't bullshit, Lenny:

that abortion
is a "grave moral disorder"

is not open for debate.

That's what St. John Paul II said,
and those three words, grave,

moral and disorder are based
on papal infallibility.

And yet, in 1591, Pope Gregory XIV,

with the Sedes Apostolica bull

restricted excommunication to
the abortion of an ensouled fetus,

introducing a distinction

that argues against lumping
together differing situations.

I'm sick and tired of distinctions.

Even for St. Thomas Aquinas,

and right up until the middle of
the nineteenth century,

abortion was set to take place only
after the ensoulment of the fetus,

and that occurs
in the third month of pregnancy.

Science is the gift of God

and God taught us
that ovulation is spontaneous.

Ask a woman about that:

back when it was still believed
that there were two kinds

of insemination, male
insemination involving sperm,

female insemination involving eggs,

it was considered a sin not to give
a woman pleasure:

but then, when it was discovered
that ovulation was spontaneous,

the cost was several billion
female orgasms.

But it made
the psychoanalysts rich.

The one profession that involves
no work and a great deal of money

that we let slip
through our fingers.

I implore you Lenny,

reconsider
your position on abortion.

Tough in principle,
soft in practice.

Abortion is saying no to life.

Who gives a damn about life?

Life is not a stupid centerpiece
on the side table of nothingness.

Life is meant to be used, and to
be used well, to love and be loved.

And let me remind you what
St. Alphonsus said about abortion:

in an abortion everyone is guilty,
except for the woman.

And what if that wasn't only true
of abortion?

What if in the things of life,
everyone is guilty,

except for the woman?

Are you talking about your mother?

Who else would I be talking about?

What is happening to me today?

At ten o'clock, Robert Lee,
the new chairman of the Tea Party.

At 11:15, a brief meeting with the
chancellor of Stanford University;.

At one o'clock, lunch
with the governor

to fine-tune plans
for the evening's events.

How long has it been
since you've seen your father?

He's no longer my father,
he's only my governor.

Don't you miss him?

He doesn't miss me,
I don't miss him.

I miss everyone.

But more than anyone else,
the person I miss is

Mr. Jack Walser,

he was the superintendent
of the building where we lived,

before the Lord called me to Him.

He had divided the tenants
into two categories,

the "natives" and the "nomads".

One day, Jack rang our door bell
at ten in the morning,

confident that Lucy and I
would be at school,

but that day we were in bed
sick with a fever,

happy to be safe at home.

Through the bedroom door I saw my
mother offer him a cup of coffee,

which Jack drank it standing up,

because he didn't want
to get the chair wet

with his rain-drenched clothes.

No doubt, there was something bad

he'd come to say,
something important.

And then, Mr. Walser announced
to my mother that the landlords

had decided to implement
a substantial rent hike with...

with a caress.

Yeah...

With a caress
that never really happened

but that still come close to

brashing against my mother's
drab hair, to my hair,

to Lucy's and the hair of our
father lying in a hotel

somewhere in the city
with his lover in his arms.

Listening to the rain...

the way we were.

We "nomads" moved out
the apartment at night,

so we wouldn't being seen by,
by the "natives",

but at the bottom of the stairs
Mr. Walser was waiting,

and he shook our hands, one by one,

and he said something to me
that I've never understood,

which is why I still remember it.

He said to me "Always get a seat
in the back of the train,

because it's the safer".

Why does our Spanish persecutor
not go home to his Pope?

I couldn't say.

What does he doing here?

He walks, he drinks, he sleeps,
he drinks, he walks, he drinks.

Ah, he's battling against death,

which is the least interesting
of any of the battles

we have ever summoned to fight.

It's too late.

It's too late for what?

For everything, Your Eminence.

Hello, Pete,
have you five minutes for me?

Sure, Father Gutierrez.

I was just wondering if you'd had
a chance to think it over.

Yeah, I've thought it over.

I'm not gonna press charges
against Archbishop Kurtwell.

Why, why not?

None of the others filed charges,

but at least
they got plenty of cash.

- You didn't even get that.
- And have you ever asked yourself

why they took the money
and I didn't?

No, I haven't. Why didn't you?

Because I have my dignity.

Fine.

So if you have so much dignity,

file charges against that man.

That man is evil incarnate.

Why are you crying, now?
Pete, you know I'm right.

Bernardo.

Can I call you Bernardo?

Yes, of course you can.

Forget about me.

Hi, Freddy.

Ciao, Bernardo.

How is training coming along?

I've been gradually intensifying.

Nice.

Did you think over my proposal?

What proposal?

What do you mean, what proposal?

The idea of you giving me a hand
in nailing Kurtwell.

- That worm just drools
when he sees you. - Not me.

I drool when I see you, Bernardo.

All you'd have to do
is go out with him one night.

You could just stop before things
went too far,

and in the meantime I'd find
a hiding place and take pictures.

Freddy, Freddy,
you're my last hope.

Bernardo, you are gonna leave
here when you're done.

But I have to spend the rest
of my life here, do you understand?

I can't afford to cross
a man like Kurtwell.

He's one of the most powerful men
in Queens.

You can understand that, right?

Don't resent me for it, Bernardo.

I never resent anyone.

That's my main problem.

Hello, Freddy.

What do you want, Freddy?

Just tell me what you want
and you'll have it.

I want to become a great tennis
player and win the Grand Slam.

Fine, then you'll have it.

Get out of here, asshole.

But...

They've told me the date.

It's for next week.

It's just one day of the year,
Rose, an ordinary date.

They're going to empty me out,
Bernardo.

They've given me a 60% chance
of dying, 40% chance of living.

And if I refuse,

I can't even begin to guess
my life expectancy.

But I'm not gonna refuse,

because I need to start
running in this hotel again

and I can't keep doing
it from here,

through six silent
security monitors.

Isn't it nice to live silent
and flat on your back?

No, it's horrible.

We all deserve the right
to start over, Bernardo.

But you know
what the funny thing is?

What is it?

How I'll leave this place.

How will you leave?

Through there.

They're going to tear down
the wall,

turn it all into
one giantic window,

and out I'll go, dangling
in midair, lifted by a crane.

It'll be a spectacular sight.

I'll be so ashamed.

I have to go now.

I'm going to write to the Pope.

It sounds so surreal,
when you put it that way.

I'd like to put together
a press release

categorically denying the rumors
about murky relations

between you and Kurtwell.

A press release that states
loud and clear:

this Pope is blackmail proof.

If, as you say, this Pope
is blackmail proof,

then there's no need to say so.

That's the point, Holy Father.

On a strictly confidential basis,
I need to know myself:

can Kurtwell blackmail you
in any way?

Lenny...

you think you're the hinge.

But you're the door.

...ventris tuis.
Sancta Maria, Mater Dei...

I love you all!

Where have Esther, Peter,
and little Pius gone?

To Ostia.

They're living in a house
by the beach.

Peter is
a private security guard now.

Weren't they happy here?

Holy Father...

life in the Vatican is not much fun
for young people.

Holy Father?

Yes.

Everyone here says
that you are a saint.

Calumny!

Show me where you live.

When you want to,
you can come home.

But I haven't accomplished anything
with Kurtwell.

Doesn't matter. Come home.

I'll be waiting.

Archbishop, your diocese
is currently undertaken

numerous projects
and revitalize the neighbourhood.

Can you give us
more details about that?

Well, we have put
a lot of money and time

over the years
on this neighbourhood.

and I think that through sports,
well,

we'll be able to make contact
with the youths on the area and,

and to help instill in them

some of the values
consistent with Christian life.

Among the many sports projects
that your diocese supports,

many involved tennis.

- Why tennis specifically?
- Oh well, I, I love tennis.

It's been a lifelong
passion of mine,

and you probably didn't know
but this area is very famous

for tennis for a long time,

and I think that tennis
just offers a chance

for excellence instructions
of a man soul.

The elements of tennis
are concentration, self-worth,

and a lot of things that go in to
making a great tennis-player.

And you know it's the
responsibility of the Church

to help these children to grow up.

Hic est enim calix sanguinis mei,

novi et aeterni testamenti
mysterium Fidei.

Qui pro vobis
et pro multis effundetur

in remissionem peccatorum.

Haec quotiescumque feceritis,

in mei memoriam facietis.

Yes, I'd like to.

Ok.

What's your name?

David.

David what?

Just David.

Why are you following me?

I used to skate only on the
weekends, and only with my family.

Then one night we were having
dinner and my daughter Kate,

who was twelve at the time,

says that that meal...

was like being in a shark tank.

That's what my wife and I
had become: a shark tank.

Now I skate alone,

even during the week, but...

it's not the same anymore.

Tanistone is my last name.

And it was my mother's
last name too.

Why are you following me?

Haven't you discovered yet?

You're the missing link between me
and the source of all my problems.

What's going on?

Why are you and the Holy Father
so determined to get me?

Because for years you were
so determined

to get all those innocent children.

That is infamous slander

and I could bring you up
on charges tomorrow morning.

You don't have any solid evidence
against me.

What else do you want?

What does Pius XIII want from me?

The Holy Father wants from you a
statement that resembles the truth.

The truth is
I know Lenny Belardo very well.

We shared power
in New York for years.

And the truth is
he has always envied me.

He envies me my charisma,
because he lacked that quality.

That is the one and only statement
that resembles the truth.

Be, be reasonable, please.

The Pope has no reason to envy
a sick old priest

who's devastated
by very grave accusations.

Your thesis doesn't hold together.

Let me reveal something to you,
Father Gutierrez: you don't matter.

Not at all.

You can stay in Queens
until the day I die,

but it won't change a thing.

The Pope can't get to the bottom
of things with me

and he knows it perfectly well.

Because it would mean
the pure pandemonium.

I pity you, Gutierrez,

because you're just a bit player

in a cheap piece of amateur
theatricals organized by your Pope.

David...

...is Kurtwell your father?

Do you remember that girl
that was skating, this evening?

That was a moment.

Because only you and I saw it,
out of the whole world.

I felt close to you.

I sensed that your despair
was the same as mine.

That was the moment I thought
to myself:

I trust this man.

Yes, I, I thought,
here's a good man.

And I'm a good man, too.

So I'll tell that good man
the things he wants to know.

Yes, Kurtwell...

...is my father.

But that's not the point.

The point is the horror.

I'm not afraid of dying,

but because I suffer from vertigo,

I'm afraid of being swung
out of this place

through that hole in the wall

and being dangled in mid-air.

Don't worry.

I'll be there to comfort you.

Then I'll go back to Rome.

- You're going back to Rome?
- Yes.

I'm done with my work here.

You come say goodbye to me now.

But I'm not leaving yet.

No, no,
you come say goodbye to me now.

Breathe, Bernardo,

I'm the one who's going to die.

- Rose, please...
- Bernardo,

we're breathing the same air.

All of you, leave now.

No, not you, Lenny.

Tell it to me,

just this one time.

Let me die knowing I didn't believe
in God in vain.

Tell it to me, Lenny.

All right.

Let's go say hello to Billy.

- I'd rather not. I'm scared.
- But we must.

Billy is a friend of yours.

His mother is dying and he needs
the comfort you can give him.

Thanks for coming, Sister Mary.
Please.

Billy, your friends are here.

Come, let me get you something.

Sister Mary, can I go see Billy's
mother for a minute?

I'd like to pray beside her.

Of course.

Lord, we must talk
about Billy's mother now.

We must talk, You and I.

And no one else can hear.

Billy's mother is still alive.

Your mother is still alive too.

And you'll find her.

Now...

at last...

...time to die.

Bring me back.

Bring me back.

To what do I owe the honor
of your presence?

I have orders to accompany you
to the Vatican,

where you'll be given a fair trial.

We have a flight for Rome
tomorrow afternoon.

It'll only be a big waste of time.

For me and for you.

You don't have any solid evidence,
you and your Pope.

None.

Only the demented reaving
of a lunatic

who goes around with orange hair.

No one will believe you.

No one.

We don't just have that testimony.

Really?

What else do you think you have?

This is Kurtwell...

Hello, Lenny.

Even though you let it
ring and ring,

I know that you were waiting
for my call.

Do you really want me to come
to Rome to be subjected to a trial

and found guilty?

I'm afraid
it's absolutely necessary.

Then one second after I land
in Rome,

you are gonna see all the things
I have on you

on all the newspapers of the world.

Go right ahead.

The world would probably like it.

The world is always ready for love.

This is Archbishop Kurtwell.
Is this a bad time?

That depends.

I have some confidential
information about the Pope.

And I have proof.

To be perfectly frank,
it's more than information,

these are ticking time bombs.

In that case, this is a very good
time, especially for a journalist.

What's the subject?

I'm not talking about it
on the phone.

Do you see the kind of things
we're talking about here?

Letters that our Pope
wrote to his...

Californian girlfriend
over the years.

We have a Pope with
a very active emotional life.

Where did you find them?

I took over a position that was
previously held by Belardo.

I took over his desk.

Belardo made the error of

leaving these letters
at the back of a drawer.

- Have you read them all?
- Only the pertinent passages.

The steamy ones.

The ones that prove that Belardo
has had a woman for years.

You should have read them all,
and with care.

In this last one, he states
he'll never send these letters

to that woman
because he's married to God.

Do you have any evidence
that they were mailed?

Any envelopes with canceled stamps?

No, no, I don't.

Well, in that case, my good
Archbishop Kurtwell,

you don't have any news for me.

No bomb. No scandal.

A stack of love letters that were
never mailed isn't news.

It's strictly literature.

Pack the bags, call the chauffeur.

You no longer have a car.

I put in a request
to have it confiscated.

The Cardinal Secretary of State
accepted my request.

We're going to take the train
to the airport.

On one condition.

What condition?

That we sit in the last car
on the train.

It's the safest.

What is more beautiful, my love?

Love lost or love found?

Don't laugh at me, my love.

I know it, I'm awkward and naive,

when it comes to love,

and I ask questions
straight out of a pop song.

This doubt overwhelms me
and undermines me, my love.

- To find...
- Hey, Daniel.

...or to lose?

How I look?

All around me,
people don't stop yearning.

Did they lose or did they find?

I can't say.

An orphan has no way of knowing.

An orphan lacks a first love.
The love for his mama and papa.

That's the source of his
awkwardness, his naiveté.

You said to me, on that deserted
beach in California,

"you can touch my legs."

But I didn't do it.

There, my love, is love lost.

That's why I've never stopped
wondering, since that day:

where have you been?

And where you are now?

And you, shining gleam
of my misspent youth,

did you lose or did you find?

I don't know.

And I will never know.

I can't even remember your name,
my love.

And I don't have the answer.

But this is how I like
to imagine it, the answer.

In the end, my love,
we have no choice.

We have to find.

All right love bugs.

Mommy is gonna show you something
that you didn't know mommy can do.

Ok.... ok, ready to catch?

Here you go.