Original subtitles

Have you heard, Auntie?

Starski.

Rumour has it, he has absconded with Ludwika Raczyńska's fortune.

Nothing can astonish me these days.

Yes.

A marriage without Christ

is like a cart without a horse.

A nobleman without a coat of arms.

Nothing about Christ

without Christ.

I shall return shortly.

Once the papers are signed, we may begin.

What have I done, Auntie?

Go after him.

What have I done?

The Illustrated News, the best price in...

S WOKULSKI DEPARTMENT STORE

My esteemed guests.

Thank you for coming in such great numbers.

Seeing you all here, all the more...

makes me feel obliged to tell you that...

there shall be no wedding.

No.

Good Heavens,

what is the world coming to?

It's coming from Wokulski's store.

THE DOLL

2.10.1878 MY HEART

ONE WEEK EARLIER

Boss.

Yes?

One thing keeps troubling me.

Those machines.

The ones that survived the fire.

I thought they were for a sugar refinery.

That's what Baron Krzeszowski and Count Łęcki said.

Well, something didn't sit right with me because when I was little,

my father would take me to work with him.

-At a distillery. -So?

The same machinery burned down in the fire.

So?

Why distillery machines for a sugar refinery?

-I don't know. -Exactly.

That's why I prepared a full inventory of everything that survived the fire.

Do you know what I found?

They had everything there. All kinds of things.

From a spinning mill to a printing house.

Nothing fits together.

-It was one big mess, and I think... -Let's get one thing straight.

I...

don't want to hear your ideas,

theories, speculations.

Not because they aren't interesting. They might be, but not to me.

I do not wish to be drawn into this, nor hear any more of it.

If I listen, I shall be drawn into it, and I have no wish to be.

I want to engage in something else.

Like what?

Thinking.

-About the case? -No.

No. I don't give a damn about it.

Someone set it on fire, no mystery here. Set it ablaze, and now it's gone.

-Well, we have to catch the culprit. -We don't have to do anything.

You think we are so important, indispensable,

but we are not, not at all.

For the world keeps going and doesn't need us.

Cases solve themselves.

Or they do not get solved.

Everything just happens. Do you understand?

-No. -Wild God wanted it that way!

Although, most likely, He had no part in it,

because He himself doesn't know what is happening.

Events are simply happening.

He is merely looking on, as mindlessly as the rest of us.

There.

See?

It's gone.

It was there.

Now it's gone.

So what do we do?

Nothing.

We wait.

We wait.

For what?

Inspector.

Stanisław Wokulski has returned to Warsaw.

The oysters have been ordered. They'll arrive on the day of the wedding.

Ice for the oysters has been ordered. They want an advance payment.

The soloist, Elisa de Bianchi, is on her way by train.

We've booked a town house for her...

They want advance payment.

Now, the menus for all the days of the wedding festivities.

-Izabela. -Stanisław.

I hear you're preparing a wedding reception

for the Queen of England.

Splendid! I'd be delighted to meet her. Send me an invitation.

Bela, we need to decide on the menus for all the days...

We need not, and shall not, decide a thing

until my fiancé fulfils the promise he made to me

when we signed the premarital contract.

-I made a promise. I will keep it. -When?

I told you.

-When I regain my financial liquidity. -When, then?

When I sell shares in the oil company.

-Of which I told you. -When, then?

Soon.

In this house, the word "soon" has a very bad reputation.

-And I intend to change that. -Wonderful.

-How about tomorrow? -Tomorrow?

Yes, it's the day that comes after today.

-Izabela. -Stanisław.

You have already broken our agreement once.

If you don't set this right, I will break off the engagement.

And it will happen much sooner than

"soon."

I must confess something.

I had a different job before I became a maid.

I know.

Stach told me everything.

You knew from the start?

A job is a job.

You did what you had to do.

What's the matter?

Is there anything else?

-My wife wants to get rid of these. -All at once?

Yes.

-How much? -For all of it?

-I already told you, all of it! -Well.

I don't know, maybe 200 rubles.

Two? This is priceless jewellery. Family heirlooms!

You came here to ask me for a price.

I can go elsewhere.

Five hundred rubles.

Four hundred and fifty or I shall go elsewhere.

Four hundred.

No.

Fine, give me 300. My loss.

No.

Today's meeting was supposed to be our last,

farewell meeting.

It would have been,

if not for one person.

Miss Izabela Łęcka, who decided to invest in our magazine,

not only gave us the opportunity to keep our jobs,

but also allowed us to carry on a cause that is so very dear to us.

The fight for a world...

in which women need not be afraid...

need not plead...

need not demand,

but simply have the right to self-determination.

Where they have the right to decide their own lives,

their own futures,

and their own bodies.

Not by virtue of birth or wealth, but...

because we are human beings.

Please give a huge round of applause to our dear friend,

Miss Izabela Łęcka.

Thank you.

Bela?

THE IVY

-Yes? -Do you think...

-If there... -Yes?

If such a possibility were to occur, in which I could...

with all my experience, which, of course...

might turn out completely useless in this case...

Just say it.

Perhaps I could...

be of some use at this magazine as well?

You want to work at The Ivy?

I was very moved by what Orzeszkowa said.

About

self-determination.

And...

I had...

a thought that, perhaps...

Perhaps I would also like to do something

for myself.

We'll find you something to do.

As long as...

-What? -That's the thing, I don't know yet.

I'm about to find out.

Stach, I made a mistake.

I messed up.

It's a disaster.

A geodetic disaster.

The surveyors from Cracow examined our oil fields.

As it turns out, they are not very... oily.

The deposits are shallow, not worth an investment.

We could graze sheep there, but that's not scientific. Sheep? No.

Too late.

We need to find new plots. I'll go. They shouldn't invest in land without oil.

No profits for anyone. It will be a disgrace.

Too late. I need that money.

You do have a plan, right?

I have to...

Gentlemen.

I have to...

I have just found out that...

That I have to...

The hospital.

Mr Stanisław's mother was taken to the hospital.

Please forgive us, but we must postpone this meeting.

Bela.

I let you down.

Forgive me.

Believe me, I let myself down even more.

I have lost my way.

But now I know the way to happiness for you and me.

Let's go away.

I have money.

I have money.

Let's just go away.

I'm here to see Miss Łęcka.

She's not here.

When will she be back?

I don't know.

Mr Wokulski came in the morning, then the young lady went out.

Hello, Marianna.

Miss Łęcka.

-Mr Wokulski is not at home. -That's all right. We're here to see you.

Me?

May we?

How do you like it here?

It's good.

That's good.

Does Mr Wokulski pay you well?

Yes.

Better than when he asked you to report what was going on in our house?

You don't have to explain.

Or apologize.

But you can make it up to me.

Does Mr Wokulski want to deceive me again?

Deceive?

I think that...

Mr Wokulski...

loves you, miss.

Otherwise, he would not do all that he does.

Like what?

I wanted to surprise you.

Well done.

I'm shocked.

I didn't expect my mausoleum at your home.

I thought you'd like it.

I must leave, or I'll puke.

Bela.

Bela!

In your mouth, my name sounds like a bale of cloth from your shop.

-But it's all for you. -For me?

How would you know what I want? Did you ask me?

-I thought... -You thought what?

I'll tell you what you thought.

That I will be your doll, which you will dress, comb her hair,

and put to bed.

It can all be changed.

If you don't like it, choose other furniture.

Wait.

I love you.

You made a prostitute pretend to be my maid out of love?

-Did you trick my father out of love? -I apologized!

-And you think that's enough? -What else should I do?

Pay off my suffering, and let's go our separate ways.

So, it's only about money.

And what else did you think? That I'd fall in love with you?

That I'd forget all of it?

That I'd forgive you for my father's death?

-What? -Let's not go through this again...

-What? -I mean the barges!

And all the other vile things you did to get me!

-What barges? -The ones you set on fire!

This isn't funny.

It's not funny!

Bela.

Stop it!

Shut up!

I burned the barges?

What for?

To make my father financially dependent on you,

so he couldn't get back on his feet!

No, dear Bela.

Your father wouldn't have got back on his feet.

Because none of you know what it means to stand on your own feet.

Because none of you ever stood on your own feet.

You all simply hang on the backs of people like me!

You just stuff your fucking faces!

More and more and more!

And in the end, you all drag down anyone stupid enough

to have anything to do with you.

You... boor!

That costs money!

But how would you know? You haven't worked a second in your life!

-You dare compare yourself to me? -No, I'd never. You're above all that!

-At least I have some ideals! -Ideals?

Ideals?

What ideals?

Fighting poverty?

Emancipation?

No, you just want people to talk.

To be astonished. "A noblewoman wallowing in poverty?"

Just a bit. A tiny little bit, so you can talk about it in the salons.

-With horror and superiority! -You have no shame!

Well, you have it in abundance!

You had enough shame to accept my advances

and fornicate with that caricature of a man!

He'd sell his own mother for 50 rubles!

Advances? You call that advances? You fucked up, obsessed pervert!

At least I feel something!

You lying, cold, calculating cunt!

Murderer!

Do you really believe that?

You'll pay for this.

I wish.

I wish I could, but I have nothing to pay with.

How so?

I have nothing. Only debts.

But...

But we had a deal.

You gave me your word.

It's not about me. People are waiting at the magazine.

I'm bankrupt, do you understand?

But...

-The oil fields. You said that... -I was mistaken.

-Mistaken? -There's no oil there.

There's nothing there.

-Nothing? -Nothing.

This is the end, do you understand?

The end.

You should have stuck to selling galoshes.

You fucking peddler.

But no.

You wanted a countess.

And now you have nothing.

You're a nobody.

You've always been a nobody, you filthy wretch.

Bela.

I'll take the blame.

I can do time for that motherfucker.

Ignaś, you won't go to jail.

You'll hang.

-I'll say it was an accident. -Half his face is gone.

I really didn't mean to.

It's just that he...

I know, darling, you said.

Maybe they won't hang me if I tell them what he did to me?

Bela, we need not be here.

We shouldn't have come in the first place.

These are private matters between Miss Marianna

and Mr Starski, and we...

We need know nothing of this.

We can...

We can pretend we do not know.

These people will, no doubt, arrive at a solution in our absence.

The most appropriate one, of course...

for everyone.

I believe we may safely assume that...

we were never in this flat.

If not you, who turned my father's enterprise to ashes?

Bela, why does it matter now?

-It does. -Bela.

Your cousin is lying in the next room in a pool of blood.

-It is really quite improper to discuss... -My cousin...

My cousin has gone to great lengths to find himself in this situation.

So allow me not to pity him for the time being.

If you have no wish to help, at least do not get in the way.

Who?

Who had the most to gain from burning it down?

Your old man.

Provided he had insured it first.

I'd sooner blow my fucking brains out than do business with Krzeszowski.

I told him hundreds of times to insure it.

I swear, hundreds of times!

In any case, it was a foolish endeavour to begin with.

Where did Krzeszowski get the money for a new horse?

He bought it right after the disaster.

With what?

-He was broke. -Perhaps he pawned something at the Jew's.

You said yourself

that when you pawned our silverware at Szlangbaum's,

Krzeszowski was collecting his paintings.

Yes, indeed.

What if that venture truly made no sense?

Maybe nobody was ever supposed to find out...

what was on those barges.

That's why Krzeszowski never insured it.

It didn't matter at all.

It was solely about

getting money from my father.

I am so terribly sorry,

it's all very interesting,

but we must still come to a decision concerning...

You know what matter I speak of, do you?

Mr Wokulski?

Yes.

We'd like to ask you a few questions.

Can it wait?

I have been waiting for quite a long time.

All right. Please, ask away.

Wonderful.

May we come in?

Make it quick, please. I'm in a hurry.

Why are you in a hurry, sir?

-Ask your questions. -I am asking.

You seem nervous.

It's been a tough day.

-Has something happened? -It's a long story.

-I have time. -I do not.

You said that you were alone.

Yes.

So what was that noise?

-What noise? -You didn't hear?

In a different flat?

-So you did hear. -Can we check?

-Check what? -If you are alone.

I already said!

Stanisław.

Hello, Inspector.

What a surprise.

Miss Izabela.

I could say the same.

You are acquainted?

Inspector and I met some time ago.

After my father's death.

Forgive me, Stanisław.

You'll laugh at this, but...

After my father's death, I was furious with you.

I no longer recall why.

I know!

Because you waited so long to propose.

I thought he was stringing me along.

I went to the police station,

and I told Inspector...

that you set my father's barges on fire.

Me?

Can you imagine?

Darling! What got into you?

Oh, you.

Right.

Stanisław.

I'm listening,

my dearest.

You said there was nothing in the oil fields.

Nothing.

You can sow grass and graze sheep.

I have an idea.

Boss, doesn't it all seem very suspicious to you?

That's exactly how it seems.

Ladies and gentlemen,

it is my great pleasure to present to you, as the first in our homeland,

the latest invention

that will revolutionize the future.

Whoever invests

in this technological marvel,

can expect returns as unimaginable as the invention itself!

What is this stench?

A horseless carriage.

In the New World, in America,

work is already underway on a new oil engine.

Not steam. Oil.

American financiers are investing huge sums of money in oil deposits.

Following their example,

we offer you a purchase of shares in the Mazovian Oil Company.

After one year,

the return on your investment can be as high as 20 percent.

Thousands of rubles!

Mr Wokulski.

-Excuse me. -Excuse me.

Let us speak a moment.

Aside, if you please.

To escape their eyes. You know how it is. They will talk. Over there, perhaps?

As I said, one acre worth a thousand rubles

will yield you 1,200 rubles after one year.

From one acre.

And... how will you guarantee that percentage?

Promissory notes. I'll issue them here.

-With a guaranteed profit rate. -Guaranteed?

Really?

I could do so even now.

Is that him?

If you lower the price by half, I shall write you a promissory note.

By half?

Are you certain?

You're asking me for a big discount.

The capital is also big. And Polish.

But that's him.

He looks exactly like the one in the drawing. Look.

That's not him.

Mr Wokulski, I was just thinking...

Perhaps we could find a place for you in our association.

Everything tallies. You need only confirm.

That's not him.

Will you, Baron, give me your word of honour?

Mr Wokulski, everything I say is my word of honour.

Then we have a deal.

Let's go.

Pardon.

A fucking fool.

Draw up more notes, sir. It will be a bigger sum.

Indeed.

Boss.

It's him.

It's him.

-What? -It's him.

Ksawery.

You are Baron Krzeszowski's butler, are you not?

Yes.

Since when?

Almost my entire life.

Well then, tell us.

Tell you what?

You can start with the fire.

The fire?

Don't you know what a fire is?

I do, indeed.

But I know nothing.

Nothing?

About anything?

Well, I think you know a lot.

About everything.

So, what happened?

Tell me.

Fuck no, Stach, you can't be serious.

Have you lost your wits?

Fucking hell, Stach! This is suicide.

Stach, bloody hell, look at me!

This is suicide!

My esteemed guests.

There shall be no wedding.

It made no sense to me.

In Siberia, Stach read too many books

about love.

And he confused the sadness inside him...

his despair, as black as tar...

with love.

He pursued her out of despair,

not love.

Some people come into this world

to be punished.

He took no joy in living.

He wanted to feed his despair with her.

When, after all that effort, all those expenses and madness,

he realized that this dream woman would not make him happy,

he fell into even greater despair,

a thing I had not thought possible.

To the very bottom of hell.

They quarrel led all the time.

When he yelled at her in anger, t'was as if he were yelling at himself.

I heard them.

How they yelled at each other, how they cursed.

And every sentence of his was like dousing himself in his anger.

That his dream gave him nothing.

That Miss Łęcka didn't save him.

That he set a trap for himself.

I don't know what she told him.

But, you know...

He didn't fit in with that whole, may they fucking rot in hell, aristocracy.

He did not.

Was it love? I do not know.

We knew no such thing.

Only the rich could afford time for love.

Had he put as much energy, as much effort,

into any other endeavour than Miss Łęcka,

in any given field, he would have reached...

the pinnacle of success.

The pinnacle.

The Illustrated News, the best price in...

Or maybe he had death on his mind all along?

For death was eating him up from the inside his whole life.

Or perhaps, in truth...

Giddy up!

He longed for death...

and not for Miss Łęcka?

And he has gained

his wish.

At last.

You obviously, miss,

know nothing about it?

Why "obviously", Baron?

-Are you suggesting something? -Yes.

Don't get upset, miss.

I am not upset.

It's hard for us to believe in such a coincidence.

Wokulski blew himself up, Ochocki disappeared.

-No one has seen Ochocki. -So?

You, miss, are off to a convent.

I am.

Will it be possible to visit you there, miss?

It's a cloistered convent. Unfortunately, no one can visit me there.

Isn't that amusing?

-Are you mocking the convent rules, Count? -We won't leave it at that.

I'm not done yet.

But I am.

Baron Krzeszowski?

Yes.

Krzeszowski.

MY LOVE

Half. Just as we agreed.

You're not going to check?

Surely you wouldn't rob me, not after everything.

So this is it.

This is it.

This is it.

This is my contribution to The Ivy.

Here you go.

It should be enough.

Florentyna will help you.

And you?

I shall manage.

IGNACY RZECKI HABERDASHERY

Wait.

S. W. HABERDASHERY J. MINCEL AND S. WOKULSKI

WARSAW POLAND

NEW YORK

Dear Stanisław,

I shall not write at length, for I never took to writing.

Not so long ago,

I thought there was nothing I desired more.

Or so I fancied,

just as I did with so many other things that today seem more distant to me

than the continent I intend to visit soon, admittedly, not without some fear.

I do not have much money with me, which is an interesting change for me.

Until recently, I thought I had everything,

but nothing awaited me.

Now, it's exactly the opposite.

I have nothing, yet everything awaits.

I was raised believing that lineage mattered above all else.

Now I know that we are not born just once,

but over and over again, every day

anew.

I hope that you too will find, in this new life,

what you most desire.

I wish it for you with all my heart.

Just as I wish it for myself, though I'm not certain... what that is.

I don't know,

but it doesn't worry me.

For along the way, I discovered something else.

That not knowing

is far more interesting

than knowing.

Subtitle translation by: Mikołaj Kopczak