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Have you got them?
In here, but it'll cost you...
Come.
In the 16th century,
Spain was a land of great art
and great intolerance.
The family arrogance of the ruling classes
forbade any outsider to step across
their aristocratic boundaries.
Under the watchful eye of the Spanish inquisition,
the people lived within the confines
of a strict set of rules.
The only defiance of the church
came from experimenters
regarded by the church as dabblers in black magic
to be sought out, imprisoned, and tortured.
No love for the agents of the holy office, that one.
Who could blame a man for that?
What I've given you is a fair price.
What a stroke of luck.
To be sure, that was very neatly done.
It was a pleasure.
Thank you, sir.
Thank you, too, young man.
Thank you.
What do you do with them, eat them?
Eat the genus bufo?
You must be strangers here.
Experiments, my good fellow.
Experiments.
Madonna mia.
You mean you teach them tricks?
I'm quite sure such experiments
would not please the holy office.
Exactly.
My good sir, I can see
you are a man of experience in such matters.
Experience, no. Curiosity, yes.
I'm aware of the toad's place in the science of witchcraft...
Shh.
The market has ears.
I am the marques de villena...
At your service.
Pray tell me, who are you?
Domenikos theotokopoulos.
We're from Italy, my lord.
My master has been commissioned by Don Diego de castilla.
Ah. So you are a painter, eh?
In Rome they call him El Greco.
So Don Diego will have you paint us a few more Madonnas
and saints and shining angels,
all poised in everlasting glory, eh?
I'm first instructed to paint
the assumption of the virgin.
Maestro, I do not doubt your words,
but if you are an artist of such consequence,
why choose to sleep in our marketplace?
There was a little misunderstanding, sir. My master...
I quite understand.
And perhaps, just for the moment,
your purse is a little light.
Shall we say,
we're suffering from a temporary embarrassment.
Enough. Don't tell me more.
Maestro, I am unquestionably in your debt,
and my duty is very clear.
Come with me.
Come, come.
Come this way.
It's just along here.
You'll like it, I'm sure.
There. That's my door. My magnificent palace.
Uh, leave the horses there. Come along.
Maria?
Maria!
What a perfect studio this room would make.
That is precisely the idea I had in mind.
Maria,
pack my clothes.
I'm leaving for the country.
Perfect.
Just perfect.
140-odd years ago,
the works of my great-great-grandfather, Enrique de villena,
sat on these shelves,
but the church came and burnt them all after he died.
You mean he dabbled in sorcery?
I mean he had an inquiring mind,
a villena characteristic
with which, praise be, I, too, am graced.
But of course it is much safer to exercise it in the country.
Safer?
The holy office is very inquisitive.
They hunt for heresies as industriously as birds look for worms.
I don't think they'll find cause to cross my path.
We have a useful saying here...
Keep out of the clutches of the claw.
The claw?
Cardinal Don Fernando nino de Guevara,
the inquisitor general.
I'll be working for the church, not against it.
Very wise.
Madonna mia, save us all.
One of the first things we see is death.
I don't like it, maestro.
I don't like it.
Men die everywhere, my friend.
Maybe,
but these people make too big a habit of it.
Don Diego de castilla.
Yes?
Don Diego,
I am domenikos theotokopoulos.
I beg your pardon?
The painter from Rome, sir.
Your brother, Luis de castilla,
arranged the commission on your behalf.
Oh, yes, yes, yes.
My good fellow, this is hardly the time or place.
I am just arrived, sir, at your invitation.
It is customary to pay one's respects.
If you need money for the night...
Money is not the question, sir.
I'm eager to discuss your requirements.
If you can contain your impatience,
perhaps you'd do me the courtesy
of dining tomorrow evening at my house.
On the contrary,
Don Diego, gentlemen,
permit me to invite you to my house.
Pray, what house can that be?
My servant will light your way at 8:00.
Good night, Don Diego, gentlemen.
Oh, ho ho ho...
Maestro, you've provided a splendid dinner.
As my credit improves in your city,
so will my table.
May you remain with us a very long time.
Gentlemen, a toast to that.
Excuse us, gentlemen,
but the maestro and I have business to discuss.
Ah.
Pardon me.
Maestro, permit an old man to give you some sound advice.
In Spain, in Toledo in particular,
we are set in our ways and fixed in our tastes.
The theologians in authority are orthodox-minded.
If you wish to convert us
to the emotional and mystic,
do not be hasty.
Be assured... The retablos will be veneto-Roman paintings,
homage to my master, titian.
At the same time, they'll be my farewell to Italy.
You will never go back?
My only desire is to live and work in Madrid as soon as possible.
These are studies for my gift to your king.
Royal patronage. I understand.
So your eye is set on the escorial.
You will find king Philip a difficult master to please.
I'm advised he has a liking
for the supernatural and fantastic.
Any man who commissions the work of hieronymous bosch...
You are very sure of yourself, domenikos theotokopoulos.
I'm sure only of my art.
And impulsive, too.
This place, our entertainment this evening
has certainly put you in debt.
Your gestures are charming, but too expensive.
Our contract is my security.
And mine, too.
This morning I had three new clauses added.
The six paintings for the retablo major
and for the side altars
must follow the preliminary sketches
you delivered to my brher.
And a further stipulation...
You will paint the canvases with your own hands, without assistance,
and not undertake other work until they are completed.
And lastly,
you will not remove your canvases from this city
to finish them elsewhere.
But that's imprisonment.
Is it? Why?
To be trapped here in Toledo?
Is the prospect so disagreeable?
Frankly, yes.
Tonight you are invited to our autosacramental.
The very spirit of Toledo
governs our morality plays.
I want to see your enjoyment of it.
You see, my friend,
we already like you.
In turn, you must learn to like us...
And our city.
Who's that over there?
The first part is over, I'm afraid.
My dear Dean, it does me good to see you here.
But beware of the night air, my friend.
Permit me to present maestro domenikos theotokopoulos,
our painter from Rome.
Rome, you say?
They tell me it's full of greeks these days.
Yes. Well, young man, you'd better paint me a picture.
Whilst I'm in Toledo,
my contract obligates me
to serve the Dean alone.
You have him in chains already.
That's the way to get your work done.
A pity, though. A great pity.
My daughter will soon be married
and stolen from my sight.
A portrait of her would have been a great comfort to me.
I'm sorry I cannot oblige you.
Don Miguel, how can I refuse such a loving father?
A most considerate gesture. Most considerate indeed.
Jeronima. Jeronima.
Yes, father.
Come with me.
Do�a jeronima, your servant.
My dear, we have here domenikos theotok...
Greek names are devilish tongue-twisters.
Theotokopoulos.
Exactly. The maestro will be painting your portrait for me.
When?
My dear girl, arrange it to suit yourself.
Come.
I'm at your disposition, my lady.
Father, El griego may present himself in my garden
tomorrow morning at 10:00,
but do stress he be punctual.
"As always, my heart is with you in Toledo."
Ha ha ha!
"Oh, what are you doing today, my jeronima?"
Ohh.
"I am so very impatient for the sight of you
that I can neither eat nor sleep."
Ha ha ha!
"Even my fencing master tells me I am no more use."
Oh, poor Luis.
He's quite fading away.
I've always wanted my husband to be just that way...
Devoted and wonderfully slim.
Maestro, a thousand pardons.
Ha ha ha!
Hope the maestro doesn't mind waiting.
And don't you think...
Your head round more to me.
Maestro, I get very tired of looking at you.
Then merely pretend I don't exist.
That shouldn't be difficult for you.
Are you always disagreeable with your sitters?
Whenever they deserve it.
And did your Roman ladies of quality
ever deserve it?
Rome is a sophisticated capital, my lady.
Our problem here is a provincial one.
Maestro, you forget that until recently,
Toledo was the capital of Spain.
Precisely 17 years ago.
Mm-hmm. And I was 3.
Now I understand what drove your poor king to Madrid.
Stop that at once. Come back into the house.
Oh.
Do�a jeronima...
If you want me to paint your portrait,
tomorrow you will have to pose alone.
Alone?
But, my lady, you know very well your father gave clear instructions...
Enough, zaida.
I don't see the point of that.
You see, my lady, this model had manners enough to stand still.
Allow me to introduce myself.
Brother Felix de paravicino.
Your designs are beautiful.
As I studied them last night,
I realized how much I shall enjoy
watching you putting them on canvas.
Please come here whenever you wish.
That will be my duty, maestro.
I've been instructed by our beloved cardinal nino de Guevara
to act as your advisor.
Guevara...
Ah, yes.
The inquisitor general.
You know him?
I know his reputation.
As one of his theologians,
I suppose you reflect his pious enthusiasms.
Please don't take offense.
In all humility, my task is merely to guide you where I can.
The church has a point of view, established concepts,
rules, if you will.
Our duty is to recognize them and obey them.
Brother Felix,
I do not readily accept advice from anybody.
I must be free to paint as I wish.
Freedom often weakens inspiration.
Restriction only stimulates it.
Let me make this quite clear...
I didn't come here to join a school of mannerists.
Maestro, you twist my words.
There are infinite variations within the rules.
There is piety, sweetness, and obedience.
Are you suggesting that the church
means to control my inspiration,
my palette's colors?
Must I apply to you
before setting this green wash on the Madonna's mantle?
Blue azure would be more appropriate.
Blue? Why?
A reflection of our toledan sky.
Brother Felix, as you are a priest,
I'm prepared to recognize your sincerity,
but...
Be patient with me, maestro.
And I'm sure we will learn to understand one another.
Ah, we are pleased to welcome you.
Your excellency is most kind.
Eminence, gentlemen...
May I present to you the painting of the burial of count orgaz
by domenikos theotokopoulos.
In such a manner
you interrupt your work on the San domingo retablo?
The story of the count of orgaz
being lifted into his sepulcher by two saints
moved me so that I couldn't resist the impulse
to paint it at once.
Yes. You are an impulsive man.
Today you provided us with a good example of your lack of restraint.
You must learn to contain such weaknesses
and follow wise counsel.
I trust you sought
father Felix de paravicino's helpful advice
concerning the official attitude to such a concept as this?
I experienced no need for such guidance.
My inspiration...
A painter of religious pictures
always requires guidance from the church.
Inaccuracies of color and sacrilegious exaggerations
are easily perpetrated.
I appreciate that, your eminence.
Moreover, such errors are punishable.
In my capacity of grand inquisitor,
I must ruthlessly exterminate all heresies,
be they nurtured in the mind or on canvas.
Domenikos theotokopoulos,
we are well pleased.
You honor your calling.
Thank you, your eminence.
In fact, it is my wish
that you again interrupt your work for San domingo
and accept a commission
for the vestry of the cathedral sacristy.
At your command, eminence.
I require you to paint our lord Jesus on calvary
the moment before he was disrobed.
An expolio.
An expolio, maestro.
But I command you this time
not to deny yourself the guidance of father Felix.
The composition will be narrow and vertical.
Centrally, a majestic Christ
surrounded by... Yet isolated from... The surging mob.
Nothing grotesque or cruel.
I have a natural abhorrence of cruelty
in any shape or form.
Come on. Come on.
Maestro, I have a message from my lady,
do�a jeronima de las cuevas.
My mistress wishes to inform you
she is free to sit this afternoon.
My time is occupied.
Hmm.
Maestro, you cannot offend the las cuevas family.
A few hours work on the portrait of their daughter
might cure your... Nervousness.
Brother Felix,
for once, I appreciate your advice.
Yes, of course.
My lady, you're sitting for a portrait, not an icon.
I happen to have pins and needles.
In crete, didn't they teach you respect?
Respect?
It depends. For what?
Well, in Toledo, we like to be civilized.
Our Greek civilization is nearly 4,000 years old.
I can't think why you ever left.
I was an underdog.
In crete, I was born under latin oppression.
I had to go seek my fortune in the land of my oppressors...
In venice, where I found the studio of old titian,
where he gave me the key to this.
Then why did you go to Rome?
To search.
To find my own brand of truth.
But in Rome,
I became a captive again.
You see, I was expected to conform
to a patron who was benevolent if one followed the rules.
But I had to speak my mind.
I did.
And now you are here, looking for more impartial patronage.
Your escorial will need many fine paintings.
Then you must despise yourself
for being made to waste time on this little portrait.
No. No painter despises himself
for finding something lovely.
I'm fortunate.
Your face already lives here on my canvas.
A young Spanish lady
whose large eyes could be so tender.
My pins and needles have gone.
Go on.
How soon the light leaves us.
These narrow streets seem to hide from the sun.
You still feel a stranger here?
Candia's all sunlight and color.
I've always lived near the sea,
in crete, then venice.
Even in Rome, I knew ostia was just across the fields.
Because it's landlocked,
Toledo is introverted.
So are the lives inside it.
How little you understand us.
I understand my feelings.
There's something oppressive here.
Your buildings are like prisons.
You decorate them inside to hide the bars.
First, this is a Spanish city.
And you can never forget it.
It explains your intense preoccupation with religion and death
and social ostentation.
Aristocrats cannot help being aristocrats.
Your aristocrats surround themselves with snobbish etiquette,
silly regulations, absurd rules,
and gradually suffocate...
Just as you're suffocating, do�a jeronima.
You are quite wrong.
In your scheme of things, each man must know his place
and never trespass.
You are trespassing now.
No, you're the one who's trespassing
into my world.
When we first met, I was merely an artisan for hire.
When I rebelled, you were intrigued.
And now look,
you're just a human being
talking to another human being in the half-light.
Maestro Greco, you flatter yourself.
I've only to put my name
at the bottom of that canvas
and your portrait is done.
When you look at it,
you'll see the good I see in you reflected there.
Not do�a jeronima de las cuevas...
But jeronima.
Now you know me, you won't say
"El griego made that of me."
You'll say, "domenikos theotokopoulos looked at me
and made me understand myself."
Won't you sit down?
Felix, I'm so conscious of your watching me.
Something's offending you.
And how am I breaking the rules this time?
Well, those yellows and blues
and the weak reds,
they all seem strangely cool to me.
Cool? Why, certainly.
After all, I didn't travel over a thousand miles
just to paint you another warm Italian assumption.
I'm in Toledo now.
Inspiration from a city you detest?
Detest? Did I say that?
Mm-hmm. You certainly made it clear
you've no love for the place.
Felix, I take a long while
to fall in love with anything.
But you do.
You work too hard.
Corpus christi will soon be with us. This must be ready.
Don Diego has already advised the king.
Does royal patronage really mean so much to you?
As escorial painter is an established person, someone of consequence.
There can be no argument about that.
You surprise me. Most painters merely wish to paint,
marry their model, breed children, and go on painting.
That's exactly my problem.
Then we must find you a beautiful wife.
I think I already have.
You mean you haven't asked her yet?
There's always that possibility.
And if she refuses?
I don't believe she will.
Supposing her parents refuse you?
Families here are very...
If the king accepts this painting,
that means he accepts me, too.
Surely her family must do the same.
Domenikos, that doesn't follow.
The king commissions and accepts the creations of his pastry cook,
but that doesn't entitle the pastry cook
to a place in society.
He's content to marry the butcher's daughter.
Felix, I'm not a pastry cook,
and she's certainly not a butcher's daughter.
Then if matters are as I suspect,
you will harm a young lady
and ruin your own future.
Felix, as a priest,
how can you make such an intolerably snobbish statement?
As your friend, I have no other alternative.
As a priest, I know my place.
As a toledan, I know yours.
You may wish for it, even fight for it,
but you won't succeed in mixing oil with water.
Believe me, domenikos.
But that's ridiculous.
I'm an educated man.
I speak five languages.
I've traveled.
Felix, I'm not a pastry cook.
I know.
I need her, Felix.
If I love this girl, truly, honorably,
and if she loves me,
no family could refuse us.
They can and will, quite bluntly.
In Toledo, a gentleman can become an acceptable artist,
but it doesn't follow
that an artist can become an acceptable gentleman.
Don't tempt fate, domenikos.
But I must.
Then I will pray for you, my friend.
Jeronima!
Jeronima.
Luis.
Dearest jeronima.
Nobody told me you were coming.
I just arrived from Madrid.
I must prepare the king's visit for the corpus christi.
Jeronima, you are always so beautiful.
And now I'm here. We have so much to arrange.
Did you make any lists for the wedding invitations?
Luis, there is still plenty of time.
Two months is not plenty of time.
I see you've got a gift already.
I didn't know you were having a portrait done.
Father wanted it.
Beautiful.
Truly beautiful.
Thank you.
Did you tell pepe to get your room ready?
Incredible.
Whoever painted that looked right into your heart.
Pepe? No, darling.
Then I'd better.
Jeronima...
"Domenikos theotokopoulos."
# Hallelujah #
# hallelujah #
Hello, domenikos.
Ah, pompeyo.
When I passed through Madrid, I inquired for you.
Working. Always working.
Since working at the escorial,
one never has a moment to oneself.
I've just completed a bust of his majesty.
I'm happy for your success.
Once away from Rome, I knew nothing could stop you.
Domenikos, I must be the one to congratulate you.
Well, don't let's criticize the eternal city.
Pignarelli is over there.
Pignarelli?
Mm-hmm.
What's he doing here?
Clinging to his majesty like the leech he is.
Not as a painter?
Oh, god forbid.
Ah, our genius, El Greco.
And how fares our refugee from the wrath of the farenese?
In Rome, we are still apologizing for your rudeness
concerning buonarroti's talent.
I do not regret my criticisms.
His majesty holds Michelangelo in the highest esteem.
Pray, do not speak ill of him in the king's presence.
I do not intend to.
And if you choose to curb your tongue,
the king need never learn of the opinion I hold.
How very trusting.
Naturally, my dear maestro,
we will permit your talent to speak for itself.
# Hallelujah #
# hallelujah #
Sire, this is maestro domenikos theotokopoulos.
We view with pleasure the gift you made to us,
and we will be pleased to accept it.
Thank you, sire.
We have heard favorable report of the progress you have made
at the church of San domingo,
and we learn with pleasure
that you're executing an expolio for the sacristy.
We are impressed with your devout application and creative talent.
Maestro Leone...
You, I gather, are in agreement with our sentiments?
Absolutely, sire.
I believe in maestro Greco's art
more than my own.
You, conte,
what is your opinion?
Both in form and in color,
an exquisite concept.
Of course, the symbolic, mystic aspects
require consideration.
We have considered them and like them.
Maestro, we accordingly desire to favor you
by commissioning you to portray the martyrdom
of the much devoted San Mauricio
and his followers of the thebian legion.
Your work, if found acceptable,
will grace our monastery of the escorial.
You honor me, sire.
My daughter do�a jeronima.
Your majesty, you honor my house with your presence.
Thank you.
Uh, this way, sire.
Domenikos, would you care
to take a little air with me, my friend?
Domenikos, today I'm both happy and sad for you.
Perhaps you prayed for me a little too much.
I must open my heart to you.
Domenikos, there are two young people.
They are engaged to be married.
Every single person here is overjoyed at the match.
Please. Please, don't harm them.
Felix...
Today I was favored by the most powerful king in the world.
My whole life has been a striving for this moment.
Yet strangely enough, it will mean nothing to me
unless I can speak to her.
She may refuse me,
but it must come from her lips.
If I'm to be hurt, I must be hurt now.
In god's name, I beseech you.
Be gentle with her.
I promise.
Jeronima.
Domenikos.
Will you be missed?
No, not for a moment.
I was so proud of you this morning.
Nothing can stop you now.
You'll go to Madrid... Not without you.
Tell me you love me.
I love you.
Jeronima.
No.
We must be logical people.
You must become known throughout all of Spain.
I must marry Luis and live in seguenta.
Come. I'll show you something.
It's too late now, for anything,
except my duty,
my duty to Luis, my family, my confessor,
to Toledo, as you would say.
I can hurt you because I love you,
but I can't hurt them.
It's impossible to be so practical about loving. Nothing matters.
It does. It matters for you, domenikos.
Today you are in favor,
tomorrow you would be disgraced.
For loving you?
For wanting to marry you?
For even contemplating such a possibility.
Please, will you kiss me now?
Please.
Please, forget me. Forget me.
Good-bye.
Perhaps he would do better with paintbrushes.
Are you satisfied, se�or?
Custom forbids a gentleman to duel with other than his kind.
Se�or ribera is my fencing master.
Shall we take our positions?
Ha ha ha ha.
En garde!
Not that way.
Like this, see?
Ha ha ha ha. Ha ha ha ha.
Stand.
Ha ha ha ha.
En garde!
Se�or?
Touch�.
Finish him off.
Aah!
Yay! Yay! Yay!
Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha.
Pignarelli was right about you.
Let's go.
Ah, my dear domenikos.
Oh, oh, oh.
I can see our convalescent is fast improving.
No, no, Maria. Thank you.
A month is a long while to remain inactive, young man.
A long while.
But I know who put you here.
I know.
And Mark my words,
someday,
somehow,
I'll see that he's punished.
Revenge can't ever get me back what I've lost.
All I want is to paint.
Can you model a portrait in wax?
A valuable talent, my friend.
I could let you have some toad potion.
Dip long needles into the toad potion,
drive them into the image of your enemy,
not forgetting to repeat the curse of the horned god.
I'm sorry.
I'm afraid I don't believe in all that.
All the more reason why you must visit me in the country,
when you are well enough.
A little demonstration?
Thank you for the visit.
Next time you come,
I hope you'll find me painting.
Good-bye, my friend.
Maestro, the king's agents are here.
Ahh.
Gentlemen, if you're here for the San Mauricio canvas, it's ready.
Maestro, our porters are on their way.
I'd hoped count pignarelli
would honor me with a visit.
What have you done with him?
He preferred to wait in the patio.
Did he now?
Francesco, bring the gentleman here.
Ah, my dear pignarelli.
Would you avoid me at this critical moment?
I have a favor to ask of you. Really?
Forgive me, this painting is finished,
but I just noticed an imperfection in one of the faces.
Would you mind sitting over here?
You would have me pose for you?
If you would do me that honor?
It will only take a moment.
Francesco, some wine for the gentlemen.
And, Tristan, open the window.
I need plenty of light in order to capture...
A certain expression.
Salud.
Salud te.
Oh, se�or conte, your head a little further
to the left.
Perfect.
Just pfect.
Uh-huh.
And, so, a pignarelli is captured for posterity.
Grazie Mille, se�or conte.
Maestro, I must confess.
I fail to recognize the conte's likeness anywhere here.
Do you?
And I thought I'd captured
such an excellent likeness.
But surely you agree.
Take care.
Not too close.
It may bite you.
Ha ha ha.
Ha ha ha.
Jeronima, my dear.
You really shouldn't have waited up for me.
Father, I wasn't tired.
Suppers with that conceited fop pignarelli
are always interminable.
What a curious fellow he is.
Who was there?
Luis was there,
and strangely enough,
enjoying himself hugely.
The only thing they appear to share in common
is their poor opinion of that painter.
Did you know that maestro Greco
has been confined to his bed this past month?
Ill?
Some sort of accident.
Couldn't make head nor tail of it,
but they say he's recovering.
For pignarelli,
the poor wretch would've been better off dead.
Pignarelli's a hateful man.
Granted, my dear.
By no means a pleasant chap,
but he keeps his ears and eyes open.
He happens to know
that maestro Greco worships the devil.
He has a venomous tongue.
Yet I believe him.
He actually found evidence
hidden in the Greek's studio.
I don't believe it.
You'll believe it all right...
When the holy office arrests him.
Arrests him?
When?
The holy office chooses its own time to strike.
Jeronima.
What are you doing?
Why did you do this?
That's black magic.
Did you do it?
Of course not.
Then pignarelli did it.
Pignarelli?
He means to tell the holy office.
But that's ridiculous.
Witchcraft can never be called ridiculous.
You've been hurt.
Jeronima.
If by Trinity Sunday you have not confessed
that such indeed was the manner of your birth,
then you will attend the act of faith
and there have your flesh consumed by fire.
Eminence, your instructions have been carried out.
Good.
Maestro Greco's paintings must be closely examined
for any signs of heretical influences.
Who is it? Who's there?
The holy office. Open the door!
What's your business at this time of night?
Domenikos theotokopoulos,
the holy office is placing you under arrest.
On what charge?
You'll find out in time.
Search the house!
Come.
Thank you.
Domenikos theotokopoulos...
The fact that you are Greek
does not excuse ignorance of the law.
Any person countenancing or practicing
witchcraft, necromancy, or sorcery
is a self-confessed heretic.
Any man possessing or harboring
images, ointments, potions, or powders
used in the diabolic craft of black magic
is suspect of heresy.
Any man discovering, finding, learning by heresy
or knowing of the existence of such images,
instruments, trappings, or paraphernalia of devil worship
is duty-bound to make report
to the holy office.
Who accuses me of possessing such paraphernalia?
The accusation specifies image-making in wax
and the stabbing of such images
with nails and pins.
But who accuses me?
The informer's name, rank, or station is denied the accused.
Nor may you confront him.
Then I demand you produce evidence
to substantiate this charge.
The holy office...
Is not required to exhibit proof
or reveal testimony.
I submit you don't possess such evidence
because it does not exist!
And further,
I submit that the informer,
also a foreigner,
has maliciously invented this tale
in order to willfully discomfort me.
Have you ever read any treatise
concerned with black magic, sorcery,
or the casting of spells?
Certainly.
But not in favor of them.
In venice and in Rome,
many books, tracts, and handbills are in circulation
condemning such rites.
Have you, at any time,
read a book favoring witchcraft
or the worship of Satan?
I'm an educated man.
My intelligence rejects such writings.
Yes or no?
No.
Have you, at any time,
fashioned an image in wax
and stabbed that likeness
with nails or such like?
No.
You swear to that?
Yes.
In the church's name and on the Bible?
Yes.
But would such an oath be sworn in all sincerity?
Do you doubt my fear of god?
We are gathered here to doubt your love of him.
Any man's oath may be counterfeit.
Then his very life would be a deception and fraud.
Is yours,
maestro theotokopoulos?
Eminence,
my paintings are visual interpretations
of my devotion to god.
If no man is permitted to speak in my favor,
then I offer my work in his place.
Examine the paintings I have recently passed
to the keeping of the church.
Find in them any deceit,
religious impropriety,
or heresy...
And I will bow to the verdict
of this tribunal.
Such can be my only defense.
We will give consideration to your words,
domenikos theotokopoulos.
Meanwhile,
you will be lodged here with us
until our verdict is agreed upon.
Take him from us.
Father...
Help him.
I beg of you, help him.
Intervene with the holy office.
In the face of damning evidence?
Impossible.
The evidence can't exist.
My daughter, you don't know what you're talking about.
He's arrested and already charged.
Then they will free him.
They must free him!
Jeronima, when the holy office accuses a man of heresy,
they must have clear evidence.
They do not. I swear, they do not!
Now you are ridiculous!
I will not tolerate this arrogant display any longer!
Arrogant?
Yes, I am arrogant!
I love him.
Jeronima!
I love him, do you hear me?
I love him... love him!
Young lady, you are to marry Luis.
If he should hear of this...
Then tell him. Tell him!
Tell him I went to the villena palace
in the middle of the night.
Tell him I was kissed...
And loved...
And embraced...
As Luis will never know love from me.
Tell him.
You have given yourself to that man?
Yes...
Willingly.
Ohh.
I love him, and I will marry him.
Never.
Domenikos.
They will only permit me a few minutes with you.
I have made representations to everybody,
done everything within my power.
Did you go to Madrid?
Why not?
The king is the only man
with power enough to help me.
Your San Mauricio was refused.
Refused?
Why?
A king doesn't have to give reasons.
Domenikos,
you can't look to the escorial for help.
I can't believe it.
Then what can I do?
Bow to authority.
Plead humbly for mercy.
Plead for mercy?
When my crime is innocence?
Felix!
That kind of humility
does not honor christianity,
it insults it!
Would you have me do that?
Would you?
Hurry, Maria.
Cowards.
I didn't come to your city
to burn at the stake.
There's no escaping the holy office.
My master is taken.
We have the right to protect ourselves.
Cowards.
Cowards, both of you.
The bolts of the inquisition only move one way...
To close and never to open!
Yet you desert him.
Your duty is to help him.
How? Are you doing anything to help him, milady?
Don't deceive yourself, my lady.
No one can help him now.
Maria and I have decided
to get out of this city now,
before it's too late.
I pray god
you've got the strength
to make your own decision.
Farewell.
Jeronima, my child,
why have you waited till now?
Mother, forgive me.
I will never again be late for god.
The mother superior
explained your need of me.
Yes, father.
Because only to you
can I truly unburden my heart.
My love for domenikos...
Was my life.
I gave him my heart and body
so willingly...
Eagerly.
He was mine, father.
Because there could be no other way.
I could not be blind
to your love for one another.
I knew, understood, and dreaded
this step you were taking.
I prayed for both of you.
I cannot believe
domenikos could ever have offended the church or god.
He came here as a stranger,
with strange beliefs,
but there was no evil in him.
Since I was little,
they taught me
to look at life their way.
Domenikos taught me another way
to look at the same things...
And they were more beautiful.
Was it wrong to love such a man?
Can god be offended with the joy I know now?
Now...
That his child moves in me.
Domenikos showed me another way, too.
Outside the rules as I know them to be.
In a strange way,
his friendship for me also made me stray.
Through his eyes,
I, too, gained a fresh view
of eternal truths.
I, too, trespassed beyond the limitations
set upon me by the church.
Then...
If you understand, father...
Please,
help me to be truly penitent...
If such be the will of god.
We will pray together,
and as penitents,
we will beseech his mercy, my child.
Rededicating our trust in his guidance alone.
Lord Jesus,
look down upon us,
your children...
Is the portrait a fair likeness of me?
Eminence, it is a prodigious caricature.
Because my hand is claw-like?
Maestro, you observed my claw,
and so you painted it.
Your portrait of me is an honest one
because it tells the truth.
Draw that curtain.
But does that represent the truth?
Does it?
Domenikos theotokopoulos,
you plead that your work
faithfully reflects your devotion
to the holy Roman catholic faith,
and yet your expolio
presents two blatant improprieties.
Several heads and helmets are above and higher
than the head of Christ.
The three Marys mourning in the left foreground,
according to the gospels,
should not be present.
Eminence.
This canvas is required
for the vestry of sacristy.
The place where a priest
assumes the robe symbolic of Christ on earth.
The robe, therefore,
is, and must be, the vital feature.
In that painting,
Christ's red garment dominates.
His body...
Full length, you'll notice,
is the tallest, largest figure.
But because the mob must crowd about him,
yet not hide him from view,
there can be little or no foreshortening.
If any man stood on the same ground as Christ,
he would be shorter.
But I'm sure your eminence
does not require instruction
in the simple rules governing perspective.
Would you change the composition?
No.
Would you paint out the three women in the foreground?
No.
Your eminence,
religious art is visionary.
It is earthly man's interpretation
of the mystery of god's majesty.
My duty is not to depict reality,
but the meaning behind reality.
My picture's not the remembered scene
of an eyewitness...
But rather the impact of an imagined scene
upon my soul.
I paint pictures to inspire worship.
If there's nothing to pray to...
Then a religious painting has no merit.
I have prayed to that canvas.
I hope others will have that opportunity.
The tribunal will consider your words.
Submission is against my nature.
I reserve my humility for god,
not his inquisitors.
But the cardinal, like any man of god,
is not without compassion.
Compassion?
Why should any man seek compassion
when he's winning his arguments?
Your explanations today
might have justified your actions,
but when the final verdict is in the balance...
Felix.
You're a strange man of god.
You strive so bitterly to change things in me
that cannot be changed.
Things that you...
Spain, Toledo...
And the holy faith
have inspired and formed.
Jeronima understands this.
Domenikos, I didn't want to tell you.
Jeronima's ill.
Ill.
How ill?
Seriously ill.
The mother superior told me so.
Which mother superior?
At the convent of the visitation,
where jeronima's doing her penance.
Penance?
They've shut her away...
It was her own decision.
Well...
I must go to her.
I must help her!
My friend, my task has always been to guide you
as best I can.
Listen this last time.
Place yourself in god's hands
and pray for understanding and forgiveness.
Calmly suffer the judgment of the holy office
as our lord Jesus once suffered at other hands.
And, like him,
accept your fate
with and open and contrite heart.
I can offer you no further defense
of my paintings.
Nor can I refute with more argument...
The charge of necromancy.
I accept...
Your conclusions...
And your verdict.
Domenikos theotokopoulos,
in respect of the charge
that you did fashion waxen images
with necromantic intent,
the tribunal of the holy office
returns a verdict of not guilty.
As grand inquisitor,
I acquit you of heresy
and heretical improprieties.
To speak of this experience
or to divulge details of your trial
is punishable by death.
Maestro,
your task is not to concern yourself
with intellectual exploration
into the church's domain...
But to paint.
Paint well, maestro Greco.
And may god bless your endeavors.
Jeronima!
Jeronima!
You have no right to invade the privacy
of this place.
I demand to speak to her.
That is not possible.
My son...
Jeronima de las cuevas is dead.
During the years that followed,
El Greco turned away
from the glitter of the world he'd known
and sought inspiration in strange places.
From his suffering,
the painter began to fashion his greatest works,
which were to make his name immortal.
Three persons...
I thought to help my old friend
recover from the tragedy of jeronima's death
by going to the convent
in order to bring about the first meeting
between El Greco and his son.
Aaahhhh!
Courage, Jorge Manuel.
There he is.
Is it really my father?
Yes, but he doesn't know it yet.
Why don't you tell him?
He lives now
with the ghosts of pain and suffering.
But one day, with your help,
they will haunt him no longer.
In his loneliness,
he'll turn to you...
And discover the meaning of life again.
Now,
go to him, Jorge Manuel.
Go to him.
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