All language subtitles for Mysteries of Lisbon Part 1 (2010) 576p BluRay x264

PAULO BRANCO PRESENTS

Special appearances by

Mysteries of Lisbon

A film by

Screenplay by

Based on the homonymous novel by

Director of Photography

Art director

Editors

Production manager

Assistant directors

Sound

Music

Produced by

Directed by

"This story is not my child,
nor my godchild.

"It is not a work of fiction:
it is a diary of suffering..."

There have been rumors of
rioting in Campo Grande...

Stories of deaths and fires!

Riots to protest the arrival
of British troops supporting Don Pedro.

It's not true! I, myself,
went to see, and all was calm,

with no signs of bloodshed,
nor troops.

Trustworthy accounts confirm the chaos
of Don Pedro's troops landing in Minho.

Even more reliable witnesses guarantee
that nothing really happened,

and that the naval fleet was
forced to return to the Azores.

I was fourteen, and I didn't know
who I was at all...

Children! Everyone inside! Lunch!

Sometimes the others would ask me
if I was Father Dinis's son.

I didn't know how to answer them.

They all had surnames.
Four or five, and some even more.

I was just Joao.

Unlike the others, I had no holidays,
went on no outings, received no presents.

Do you think you're going to find
your father in some book, Joao?

Because books don't talk
about shoemakers, or thieves...

Or bastards.
And you are a bastard!

The son of a thief or a shoemaker!
If not, then why do they call you Joao?

Just Joao!

You're right. And you can keep
the book, as a gift from me.

You need it more than I do.
Maybe you'll end up learning to read.

I don't know how long passed
between the time I lost consciousness...

and the moment I opened my eyes again.
I thought I had dreamt it all.

It seemed there was someone
in all my fevered visions.

And I wondered for a long time if that
someone was real...

Good morning.

Are you feeling better?

Yes, you're feeling better.

What are you thinking about?

About the boy who
offended my father.

Are you talking about Antonio Santos?

I know his father well.
He's in prison.

A horse thief.

Think about it.

Antonio is a very unhappy boy.

I can't forgive him.

You can't?

Are you sure?

You said I should never lie.

I hate the boy who offended my father.

It's true.

Don't forget what I'm about to tell you:

We must be sincere with God,
and among men, we must be loyal.

Joao struck Antonio,
and he answered in return...

I'll keep this with me.

Now eat.

What's that?

A present a lady friend
brought you tonight.

What lady friend?

A friend of Father Dinis.

Do you recognize?

Is it a horse?

My son...

It is quite late, Countess.
We must go.

Make haste and have courage,
my child.

And rest easy, he is in good hands.

She is my mother, isn't she?

A lady friend.

But you told me...

You shouldn't speak, Joao!
You mustn't speak...

But she...

Remember what the doctor said.

Go on, get some rest.
We'll talk later.

Neither Dona Antonia nor father Dinis
helped to dispel my doubts

regarding that extraordinary visit.

Instead they were evasive and reticent.

Who was the first to study
and observe dynamic physics?

Joao.

Galileo.

What is dynamic physics?

Dynamics is the branch of mechanics

that studies forces and the movements
they themselves produce.

And what is force?

That which can alter the resting state
or movement of a body, or distort it.

Dictation!

Father Dinis didn't want me
to just meditate.

As soon as I recovered,
he increased my lessons.

He forced me to reason, scientifically,

in order to distract me from sterile
meditations about my enigmatic life...

It was...

in 1593,

period.

Rafael, silence!

Four years had gone by...

One day, he told me to get dressed
to go for a walk with him.

His order surprised me because
it was a school day,

and he'd never paid that kind
of attention to me before...

Do you want to come see something?

Come, come!

It's my father...

Joao, that's enough.

Don't you want to play with me?

I can't.

Goodbye.

Show your respect.

It's her!
The lady from the other night!

Quiet!

Do you want something?

No, sir. Just to rest.

But if we're bothering you,
we'll leave.

Who was that lady?

Why did she come see me?

That lady is your mother.

I knew it as soon as
I saw her! I was certain of it!

So, that man...

No. He's not your father.
Your father is no longer living.

That man is your mother's husband.

Now don't ask me any more questions,
because I won't answer.

Days later, they came to announce

that there was a man in the
entrance hall asking to see me.

Master Joao, the son of my dear Lady,
the son of that Saint!

I'm sorry, but who are you?

I am Bernardo, the Countess's
manservant.

I came to deliver a letter,

but when my Lady said you were here,

I couldn't
resist meeting you myself...

"My little knight."

If you only knew how much that soul
has suffered for you...

So you must know her well!
You can tell me everything.

Come. Let's go to my room.
We'll be more comfortable.

That man is a tiger.

He had the Countess locked up
for eight years.

Without seeing the sun or the moon!

Eight years...

So that's why she has
come to see me now.

But why did the Count lock her up?

That's a good one!

It was because of you!

Because of me?!

But he doesn't know me...

He's never seen me.

But he knows that you exist.

He found out, or someone told him,

that the Countess had borne
another man's child.

And that was enough for him.
That beast!

And this man...

my father...

Did you know him?

I never had that pleasure.

But you know who he was?

Again, no. The one who knows all this
is Father Dinis.

So you were here!

I've been looking for you for hours.

I brought him here.

It doesn't matter. Forget it.

Here is my reply to the Countess.

Be prudent.

Make sure she burns it
after it has been read.

You may leave. Go with God.

May God watch over you, child.

When shall you return?

You will return, won't you?

If the Father allows...

We'll talk later.

You should go, the Countess
is awaiting an answer.

Goodbye, child.

Your blessing, Father.

Here.

It's a letter from your mother.

It's not addressed to you, but I think
it's time you knew

what a bitter life she has.

Read it and ask God to have mercy
upon the person who wrote it.

The Count suspected it.

He wanted to wrench the secret
from me of the two people

he had seen from the window.

He locked me back in the room.

Then he placed a dagger over my heart.

I was certain he was going to kill me.

I begged for my life to be taken.

He spat in my face,
while deciding not to kill me.

Was it cowardice?

Was it the pleasure
of seeing me suffer?

Who told you to leave here?

Did I tell you to leave?
I didn't tell you, did I?

Who told you to leave here?

Do you want me to shut you in here,
is that it?

Is that what you want?
Is that what you prefer?

Is that what you prefer?
It is, isn't it?

On the floor, right now!
On the floor, immediately!

On the floor!

Kill me!

But you want this don't you?

Kill me!

You want this, is that right?

You want me to kill you, is that it?

I beg you!

I'm begging you...

You're not going to leave here!

- You're not getting out of here!
- Kill me!

Stop!

Don't do this!

Let me go!

And you, what are you doing here?

Get moving! Get out of here!

Get out of here now!
Get out!

You've already been told not to leave
your chambers!

Please!

My soul covered itself
in a veil of sadness

the moment I read
my mother's letter.

Every morning I would ask
Father Dinis about her.

For months I had no
news, neither good nor bad.

Bernardo!

What's going on?
Has something happened?

The lady, your mother... The Count,
the King... The Countess...

The what?... My mother what?...
What did the Count do?

Now, Bernardo, easy, go on.
Your mother wants to see you.

See me? Where?
Did the Count let her go free?

The Count left. He went with the King.
With the troops.

It seems Don Pedro's Liberals
landed up North. In Minho.

His Majesty went to throw them
all into the sea.

- The Count...
- Left? The Count went away?

But then why didn't my mother
come with you?

She wanted nothing else
more than to come.

If she hadn't been ill...

She's ill?

It's nothing serious. Don't worry.

In any event, she is in bed and
she wants you to go there.

I'm going right away!

Easy. Calm down, Joao.
No rash actions.

Antonia, have them prepare
the coach.

Forgive me for turning my back, it's
just not good to see a manservant cry.

As the coach approached
the little palace of Santa Barbara,

I was stuck between the fear that
the sinister building filled me with,

and the joy of going to see
my mother again.

But the idea that I might be able to
take refuge in her arms,

ended up dispelling all fears.

Sit down.

You may come in.

Father Dinis.
Please sit down.

It's strange for me to be
receiving visitors.

I'm always...

afraid the Count might
appear at any moment.

If the troops are as numerous
as I've been told,

it's not likely the
Count will return very soon.

They spoke of three ships filled
with French and English mercenaries.

This war might last a lot
longer than we all imagined.

May God hear you...

However long it lasts, it won't
make up for the years I lost with my son...

Bernardo! Bernardo!
See if it's her. Hurry!

"Her"?

"Her" who, Countess,
if I'm not indiscreet?

Eugenia. The maid who lives
with the Count.

The Count lives with a maid?

I say maid but,

in fact, I am the maid,

and she is the Lady.

She is in charge here.
She decides everything.

It wasn't her, Countess.
Just a quarrel between two kitchen girls.

She hasn't left the Count's room
since he went away.

A good thing...

Perhaps I can breathe freely
for another day or two.

After what I've seen and heard,

I can't leave you alone
in this house.

But this is my house!

It's the only one I have.

Where would you have me go,
Father Dinis?

He who sheltered the child can
also shelter the mother.

Father Dinis, your generosity
confounds me.

And it shames me.
I'm not worthy of it.

Please allow me to be the judge
of what you deserve.

But what will the rest of the world say?

Have you already thought
of the slanders, the moral outrage?

The rest of the world is not under
my jurisdiction, Countess.

I am accountable to a
considerably higher power.

Please, mother, accept.
This way I can see you every day.

Do you think it's possible?
Do you think we can do it?

I think we must.

When?

Right away.

Bernardo!

Bring me my cape, please.

May I take a trunk?

Naturally.

I shall take it.

Thank you.

Let us go.

For my happiness to be complete,

I only needed to meet the other
half of my story.

I didn't dare ask my mother to talk about
the father who was "no longer living",

as Father Dinis had put it.

I didn't want to torment her with the past
that had made her suffer so much.

I was truly startled when I saw him...

Don't say anything to the other one.
She can't know I am here.

I feel so happy, I could die without fear.

Mother. Don't speak any more of death.
Promise me.

You're right, my son. I promise.

But there will come a day when,
in this hell on earth,

the hope of death will be a paradise
for those that are unhappy.

But you said you were happy!

And I am.

What are you afraid of, then?

Of the past, Pedro.

Of my past...

Oh, My God!

What misfortune will befall upon us now?

The Count has returned, Countess.

Forgive the delay.

Bernardo.

The Count kicked me out on the street.

He didn't have to tell me twice. I packed
my things and moved right away.

If you wish, you can always stay here,
Bernardo.

Thank you, Father Dinis,
I already have somewhere to stay.

You see, Countess,
everything works out.

Your husband will leave Lisbon with
the maid shortly. You are finally free.

Do you really think so?

You don't think the man won't use
his authority

to snatch my son away
from my own arms?

He might try. But first he'll have to
discover where to find the Countess.

It won't be easy for him.

And if he succeeds?

If he does succeed, there are the means,
even in this poor house,

to place Your Excellency and
your son out of his reach,

some two thousand leagues
from Lisbon.

Rest easy, Countess: God's blessing did
not abandon Agar in the desert.

My child, that's quite enough tears.
It's the time for smiles.

Think of your son.

Think of the future.

Father Dinis kept his reticent manner
every time I touched on the matter.

But I insisted so much that one day...

Pedro!

Angela!

Pedro, I called you because your mother
has authorized me to tell you

what you keep wanting to know,
what you insisted to know.

Let's go to my office.

Angela!

It seems to me your mother
is not feeling well.

Angela!

I didn't tell you before, because
this story does not only belong to me.

I'm telling you now,
because it also belongs to you.

The year you were born, a man came to
this house and asked to see me...

- Joao, why aren't you writing?
- I have no more ink!

Ink, Joao, is to be brought from home!
Come here, you're going to be punished.

He was so pale and emaciated
he seemed more like a corpse.

With as little noise as possible...

Father, there's a ghost out there!

Be seated!

Joao, go and sit down!

Help me here.

Silence!

My name is Pedro da Silva.

I am the second son of the
Count of Alvaçoes.

As such, I am a poor man.

I'm a sort of bastard, but I was
born from a legitimate marriage.

It's as if I was the son of a shoemaker
or a pig-keeper.

But my situation only became
unbearable

the day I met a rather fateful woman.

The kind who carry in their first loving
look either adventure or absolute disgrace.

The woman I loved was the daughter
of the Marquis of Montezelos.

A second child, just like me.

And predestined, like myself,
to misfortune.

Deolinda!

What a fright!

Come in.

What is this?

Don't open it here, miss.

It's from the nobleman you saw
yesterday. The one from church.

When?

This morning, at the market...

Be careful, miss. The Marquis has
already returned from the guild.

Most Excellent Lady.

Forgive my audacity in sending you
this letter.

But nothing could keep me away
from the gaze I discovered yesterday

and dreamed of today.

Ever since I saw you in church

I could not rest until I knew
to whom such enchantment belonged.

My minutes seem like hours.

My hours, like days.

This will endure until you have the
kindness to receive me.

For this reason, without calculation
and in all innocence,

I dare to ask you to
relieve me from this torment.

Yours,

Pedro da Silva.

At first, Father, it was a dream
without any repercussions.

A subtle drunkenness of the heart,
without the delirium of the senses.

A truly burning desire for happiness,

without imagining what happiness
should be for us...

If you'd care to rest a moment.

I'm sorry, no. It's nothing.
Don't worry.

I would rather finish my story;

I don't wish to occupy any more
of your time.

Later on, there was a shyness to
our relationship. Blushing for no reason.

A lowering of the eyes
in each other's presence.

It was, in the end, a struggle
between the heart and the head,

between innocence and calculation.

Between the sanctity of our affection
and the demon of social convention.

We saw each other almost every day
at the same place.

Enough to be sure that we wanted to
spend the rest of our lives together.

Yes.

I had already sworn thus
before you asked me.

I want to be yours.

In body and soul.

In life and in death.

I'm asking your father to allow
me an audience with him today.

I'm afraid, Pedro, I'm afraid.

Afraid of what, my love?

Afraid of what?

When one is in love as we are,
there's no reason to be afraid!

Right?

I love you so much...

Sir marquis...

Don Pedro.

Come.

You wanted to have a word.

And I received you out of deference
to your present situation,

although I feel it would be best
if you give up this charade.

But, Sir Marquis...

Believe me, it's better this way.

We can both avoid a rather
embarrassing moment.

You, asking for my daughter's hand,
and I, having to refuse you.

I shall only give my daughter away
to the man who meets two conditions.

First: he has to prove to me that he is
as noble as she is.

And second: he must be wealthy enough

to give her everything I have given her
until now.

Your Excellency certainly satisfies
the first condition.

However, the second, you do not.

My daughter is poor, Don Pedro da Silva.
Your Excellency is poor.

And neither I, nor your father can steal
from our firstborn children

to benefit the second.

Goodbye, Don Pedro.
It was a great pleasure.

It's best if you leave through this garden;
one never knows.

That is all.

Excuse me.

Angela, my girl!

Mother!

It's nothing.

Just dizziness, that's all.

From all the emotion.

Please continue, Father.

Don't worry about me.
Please continue.

All right, I shall continue,
but in your room.

You look tired.

I want you to rest.

Come, let's go, Countess.
Let's go.

Curiously, Don Pedro felt ill
at the same point in his tale.

I settled him on that very same sofa.

But he refused to rest until he had
finished telling me his story.

I had really embarrassed myself.

I was tempted to take revenge.

To make his face flush with shame!
That father who had shamed me first.

But the struggle between pride and
dishonor did not last long.

I decided to leave for America,
where much gold had been found,

and where they had conquered
the European notion of social status.

A place where they trade
even human beings.

A place you later leave to get a
diploma as an honest man in Portugal.

I'm leaving for America.

I'll kill myself.

- Angela!
- If you leave, I'll kill myself.

My father will force me
to marry someone else.

I'd rather die.

Angela, wait.
Angela!

You're burning with a fever.

It's nothing. I've been like this for
months. Don't worry.

I abandoned my plans,

of course.

I couldn't abandon her like that.

I was sure she would put into practice
what she had threatened to do.

As a result of Deolinda's complicity,

Angela began to receive me at home,
every time her father was away.

We played silly games together,
and dreamt of an unexpected fortune

and of escaping to another land...

Young lady! Don Pedro! Hurry!
It's the marquis!

At first, our meetings were
pure, almost fraternal.

But little by little,
the angel of innocence abandoned us.

And the impetuous voice of passion
spoke louder.

And neither Angela nor I knew
how to resist it.

Bastard.

No.

Don't cry, Mother...

Come, my girl,
you must be strong.

I'm sorry.
It is too strong for me...

When I heard those shots,
I thought I was going to die!

My father had dismissed Deolinda,
and had locked me in my room.

Let's stop for now.
Let's let her rest.

No! Please, Father,
I beg you to continue.

I beg you to continue, please.

I want my son to know
who his father was.

I know I don't have the strength
to tell him myself.

Please continue Father.
I beg you to continue, for me.

Good morning.

What happened to me?

You lost consciousness, my friend.

No, no, no! Don't move.

You're in no condition to get up.

Can you move your arm?

No.

You haven't lost much blood.

The doctor will be back this afternoon
to examine you again.

Now, eat. You need to regain
your strength.

In the weeks that I lay
between life and death,

the Marquis of Montezelos
forced Angela to enter a convent.

You should rest assured that
at least there she is protected.

No doubt, Father.
But only a temporary protection.

Her father's intention was
to have her removed from there

as soon as he arranged her a husband.

Which convent?

The convent is the reason
that I came to see you.

I heard you had a sister
in the same place.

The Convent of Nazaré...

Unfortunately, I arrived too late.

The Marquis came to take her
away two days ago.

For weeks, she remained in
a very bad state.

She cried all day, the poor thing.

And she didn't trust any one of us.

Not even the prelate
could reach her.

Do you know where they took her?

Home, I suppose.

But I can find out, if you want.

Then find out.

I fear the worst, Antonia.

For her, and for the other life
she carries in her bosom.

Most Holy Virgin!

May God protect her!

It's from Miss Antonia!
She said it's urgent.

Thank you.

You may go.

My sister Antonia told me that the
Marquis of Montezelos

had secretly sent his daughter to a ranch
he owns about 25 leagues from Lisbon.

Good morning, brother!

Might there be a drop of water to give
these poor beasts?

We'll pay, of course.

They haven't drunk since sunrise.

They're dying of thirst.

This isn't a public drinking place.

And I am no brother to any gypsy.

Go on, keep moving on your way.

There's a stream down there.
Less than two leagues away.

The water is free of charge.
And the information as well.

Be well.

Thank you, brother.

Have a swig, to compensate for
our inconvenience.

It's the good stuff.

It may not quench your thirst,
but it'll give you a kick.

If I don't drink, you're going to think
I'm being arrogant.

That is the good stuff!

If you want more, just come around.

I'll be up there, on Mule Mountain,
beyond the tree grove.

Just ask for me: Sabino Cabra.

I might come visit, you never know...

If I get thirsty and I have the urge...

My name is Heliodoro. But everyone
knows me as Knife-Eater.

The name isn't that pretty,
but it fits the person that I am.

I'll wait to see you there.
Stay in peace.

Oh, it's you! You scared me, man.
I didn't hear you coming.

People only hear me coming when
I want them to.

Sit down.

Are you alone?

Better alone...

That's right.

I was going to eat.
Will you join me?

It's meat.
Some people don't like it.

Stones are the only thing I don't eat.

But this horse business,
does it work or not?

It's working out.

To be honest, my friend Heliodoro...

Call me Knife-Eater!

Otherwise I'll think you're talking
to someone else.

Knife-Eater, my friend.

Let's just say if I sold only the ones
I buy and the ones I raise,

you might well say
that I would die of hunger.

But counting on others,
I can't complain.

Which "others"?

The ones I find...

Where?

Wherever...

The ones you "find"!

What about you?

More or less like you.

Like me?

Like this: I made a treaty with the
marquis down there...

The one with the farm.

When he has a problem,
I solve it for him.

And it works out for you?

Yes.

It's better than walking around
planting seeds in the ground.

Which is what I used to do...

Right now I have a special job
from him.

And this one is going to be a
real piece of work, seriously...

A special one...

It's the Marquis' daughter.

No!

His actual daughter!?

The girl is... you know...

And the father's unknown.

The finer they are,
the more they're like goats.

Unless it is... No offense...

And so?

And so?
The baby's a bastard, man!

But it's almost born, almost.

And when it's born, two shovelfuls
of dirt and it's all over.

At that age,
it doesn't have an age at all.

Nor a size!
Not even a sin!

Just a tiny grain of sand...
in this entire desert...

When it comes out: Whoosh!
It will go straight to Heaven.

Was it me?
Was I the bastard?

In the eyes of the Lord, there are
no bastards, nor second children.

We are all firstborn.

But I was the one
he was supposed to kill?

What are you doing here?

The Marquis doesn't like visitors.

Luckily, he's not here,
but he might have been.

Good morning, brother.

I already told you I'm not your brother.

It's not from drinking two glasses
together that we're now the same blood.

What do you want?

I came here to make you
a business proposition.

A business proposition?

What business?

I don't buy or sell horses and
I don't steal them, either.

What about bastards?

What did you say?
What is that all about?

You told me yourself, last night.

You shouldn't drink.

Lower your voice, you fool!
What else did I tell you?

Isn't there a place
where we can speak in peace?

What I want to propose
shouldn't be done here.

Come on, then.

Thank you, brother.

Sit down over there.

What's that?

Open it.

Count them.

I have just as many more on me.

If it's more than the Marquis gives you,
then the bastard is mine.

The bastard is yours?

Why do you want it?

What purpose does it serve you?

That's up to me. Don't worry.

But if you're not interested
in the deal...

Hey, hold on!

Who said I wasn't interested?

There must be around 40 coins here!

Eighty, counting the ones I have on me.

But that's a lot of money!

He's worth that much?

To you, he's worth it.

And you avoid having one more crime
on your conscience.

Come on, decide!
I have the horses waiting.

It's decided.

Forty it is then, brother.

Bread, sausage, brother.

He sold me to Father Dinis,
is that it?

Who?

The gypsy. That animal.

He saved my life...

He bought me from the assassin,
and sold me to Father Dinis.

It was like that, wasn't it?

No, it wasn't quite like that.

But the story has gone on for
too long now, and it's late.

Your mother is exhausted.
Come on, we'll let her rest.

Sleep well, mother.

I doubt it, my son.

But just knowing you're nearby will
make my insomnia more bearable.

Good night, Father Dinis.

Good night, Countess.

Can I ask you one more question,
Father?

It's the last one, I swear.

What about my father?

God allowed your father to see his
son and kiss him before leaving.

He died two days after
you arrived in this house.

He was still able to dictate
a letter for the Countess,

in which he declared that the boy
was safe and sound.

He left this world
with your mother's name on his lips.

He was a just and virtuous
man who was unfortunate.

Don't be embarrassed in being his son.

Now go to sleep!

Tomorrow eight o'clock.
Botany.

You know I don't like you to be late.

See you tomorrow, Father.

Before leaving Lisbon with Eugenia,

the Count of Santa Barbara
told everyone

that my mother had
abandoned him for another man.

Within the upper social circles
of Lisbon,

my mother became the ignoble
topic of conversation

in the salons and city squares.

She's even my cousin,
imagine that!

Two or three times removed,
in truth, but regardless to say...

- I heard that the man is a priest.
- My God! What a shameful thing.

It seems that even
before she was married she...

Alas, what is certain
is that her father,

the poor Marquis of Montezelos,
my father's distant cousin,

forced her to enter a convent,
before arranging her a husband.

What do you suppose was the reason?

The reason is that she was...
You know...

It was the Count of Santa Barbara
himself who told my husband...

Poor man.

Apparently tears came to his eyes.
He's an absolute mess.

I heard that he even left Lisbon
altogether.

He left to join the troops
of King Don Miguel, in Minho.

In the condition I saw him,

I wouldn't be surprise if he did
something foolish.

Who is that tall gentleman, Marquise?

I never saw him here before.

And he has a foreign air about him.

The Brazilian.

His name is Alberto de Magalhaes.

They say he's the bastard son
of King Don Joao VI

and an attendant of Queen Dona Maria.

If one look's closely, in fact,
the lower lip is just like the Braganças.

What is certain is that
not long ago he came from Brazil

and that he has money to burn.

To me, as far as I can tell,
he's a liberal. A spy for Don Pedro.

And that his fortune will only
allow him

to bring down the court
and the altar as well.

That is what they told my husband,
from a trustworthy source.

Neither royal bastard, nor liberal spy,
my dear ladies.

I am sorry to disappoint you,
but my information is trustworthy.

Your Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes
got rich in the ignoble slave trade.

And nowadays, he maintains his fortune
through piracy.

How horrible!
Could it actually be possible?

I've already heard those rumors,
Don Martinho.

And I don't believe them.

My husband would never have agreed
to receive a man of that ilk.

Would you be so kind as to bring me
my handkerchief, Don Martinho?

I left it on that table.

Certainly.

What are you smiling about,
Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes?

Can you tell me?

About you Your Excellency, Countess.

About me?

Or people in general,
if your prefer, Countess.

I do not understand.

Neither do I.

I thought about what Your Excellency
had said a moment ago

about the Countess of Santa Barbara.

And that makes you smile?

That the poor Countess
of Santa Barbara

is the "shame of the
Portuguese nobility"?

Does Your Excellency think
we should all take this so seriously?

I did not ask for your...

I do not ask your opinion, sir.

I only ask for the respect of not
laughing at my opinion.

You ask too much of me,
Your Excellency.

It's difficult not to laugh at something
so laughable.

This is an insult!

To the Countess, I say it's not.

To Your Excellency,
I say interpret it as you wish.

I take it as a provocation!

And I feel I have the right
to demand some explanations!

You do not have to touch me,
Don Martinho de Almeida.

Nonsense like that
can be spoken from a distance.

Pardon me, Your Excellency,

but you have a note at your feet.

If it's not from your husband,

it might be an outrage to the
principles you yourself proclaim!

Dear Friend,
I wait impatiently for the moment

when I can hold you tightly
in my arms again.

Don Martinho de Almeida instructed us
to ask Your Excellency:

with whom we should negotiate
the conditions of the duel.

With me.

Your Excellency, forgive me,
but that is not standard practice.

You must subject yourself
to the conditions that are imposed

by two gentlemen whom you trust.

That is precisely why I do not concede
to anyone.

I am the one who imposes
obligations of honor.

I am in full use of my capacities.

I answer for myself: I do not fight.

You don't fight?
You don't fight?

No.

Have you seriously considered the
consequences of this decision?

What consequences?

The risk of an unexpected
encounter, which could be fatal...

I assume that risk.

Is that all?

No, no.

I haven't yet wished you
a very nice day.

Good morning, boss.

Good morning Mr. Joao.

Mr. Paulo, Mr. Raul.

That was not the case with Father Dinis.

He had also heard the rumors
that were spreading through Lisbon.

Without saying a word to my mother,

he presented a case
against the Count of Santa Barbara

at the court which deals with abuse,
and punishes slanderers.

He called for justice, and that the Count
prove his slanderous claim, or recant.

Informed that the Count had taken ill
during the journey

and was convalescing in an Inn
in Santarem,

father Dinis didn't hesitate
to take a trip there,

accompanied by a bailiff
and a registrar.

He was determined to put an end,
without delay,

to the offense inflicted
on the honor of his protégé.

I am sorry, gentlemen, but the Count
is in no condition to receive visitors.

This isn't a visit, dear sir.

This is a matter of judicial diligence.

Forgive me, Father, but
wouldn't it be better

to wait for a
more auspicious moment?

No, Registrar.

The person I represent has already
waited far too long.

Count,

this gentleman is the Registrar
of the Third Order,

and this other one is the bailiff.

They have been empowered with a
diligence,

to be collected from Your Excellency.

Diligence?! Third Order?!
What is this all about?

I don't owe anything to anyone.

This is not about a debt, Count.

Your Excellency, forgive me.
I come involuntarily to charge you.

I was sent here at the request of the
Countess of Santa Barbara.

What does that woman want from me?

She wants the Count
to respect her honor.

Who are you, sir?!
I know you. I've seen you before!

You've seen me, indeed.

But where?
Where have I seen you?

You saw me in front of your house.
In the garden.

Yes, yes, with a little boy...
I remember well. But before that?

It was before, long before...

It's possible.

It will come back to me.

I'll remember.

I don't understand.

What do you have to do with this matter,
with the court, and its jurisdiction?

I am here in the capacity of protector
of the Countess of Santa Barbara.

I am the vigilant sentinel of her honor
and I can point out,

without hesitation, that I protect
your honor as well, Your Excellency.

For my honor!
You're mocking me, Father.

No, no. I am not mocking you.

I know that Your Excellency
was not the only one

who was responsible for the misfortunes
of the Countess.

And I also know that you were
a puppet

in the hands of her father,
the Marquis of Montezelos.

You know that?
You know that?

So, I was right.

We have seen each other before.

I know you!

It's possible.

Eugenia. Gentlemen.

I beg you to leave me for a moment with
the priest.

Eugenia, you may leave.

I will sign anything you want.

But first, I must speak with him alone.

Would you leave, please?

Sit down.

I am sorry. I feel like I'm suffocating.

What did the doctor say?

That this is an extraordinary case,
and he delays his diagnosis,

because he wants to consult
his colleagues.

In other words: he doesn't know.

But let us forget about all that.

It's strange, I have such a strong
impression that I know you,

but I am not able to remember.

You mean to say you're aware the
Marquis of Montezelos was my tutor?

I am.

You're right, it's true. He treated me
like a puppet.

I was practically a child.
Frivolous, foolhardy.

I only thought about racing dogs and
Arabian horses.

He spoke to me of his daughter.

He wanted to introduce her to me.

I had heard a vague story about a
convent...

I resisted him.

I would invent excuses.

The last thing on my mind
was getting married.

One day he took me to the Ball of the
Count of Colares.

She was a fascinating figure,
a mixture of richness and beauty that

completely astonished me.

This is the latest fashion in the salons.
Dancing African Lunduns.

Is it also a fashion to go around
pointing fingers?

My butler is the culprit,
he is a deaf-mute.

The poor man can't say anything
so he points instead.

Now, everyone points.
It seems to be fashion.

But it is very ugly, is it not?

If it's the fashion, it's the fashion.

Do you really think so?

You'll see the good it does you.
Just for one night,

trading horses and dogs for men
in elegant clothes and beautiful women.

Something happened?
Are you feeling all right?

Who is that woman talking to those two
ladies over there?

Do you know her?

That's my daughter, Angela.
You've never seen her?

I don't believe so.

At least I've never seen her with the
eyes I have today.

I was just about to introduce you. Come.

I don't feel well, Father.

I wanted to ask for
your permission to retire...

Angela! You promised me.

You don't feel well because you're all
alone here.

I've brought you just the right company.

The Count of Santa Barbara.

A dear friend.
And an admirer of yours.

Good. Well, I'll leave you two to
get acquainted.

The company of old people isn't healthy
for the young.

Don't make me look bad.

So long. Enjoy yourselves.

Don't you like dancing?

It doesn't really speak to me anymore.

I don't even know if I still know how.

I never knew...

But I know how to hunt boar and ride
without a saddle...

Do you like horses?
I have two thoroughbreds.

I brought them from Marrakesh.
They cost me an arm and a leg.

They're the most elegant horses in
all of Lisbon.

I'd like you to see them, but
I don't allow anyone to ride them.

But for you, young lady, I might be
convinced to allow.

If it pleases you, of course.

You should not be interested in me,
Count.

You shouldn't.

My heart is dead.

It's too late, Angela.
My heart already belongs to you.

- It's been yours since I first saw you.
- Don't say that.

Don't do that.

You can't...

I can't.
I can't!

Seen from close up,
the heart increased in value

what it had lost in the
caliber of her eyes.

She was a woman to be seen,
but she was more to be loved...

So, you talked?

Your daughter, Marquis,
isn't much for conversation.

Don't tell me she didn't talk to you.

Obviously, I don't interest her.

That nonsense!
Of course you interest her.

I'm going to get to the bottom of this.

She had a shrine of lost love in her soul.

And they turned it into a cup of bile...

What?

I'm talking about Angela de Lima,
Count of Santa Barbara.

They turned the love she had in her soul
into a cup of bile.

Do you also want to place yourself into
the heart of that unhappy girl?

Leave her, Count.

The memory of a first love,
the corpse of the first man she loved,

marked her existence with longings that
your passion can't compete against.

Leave her, for pity's sake.

Don't buy her from her father,
because you're buying a dead slave.

But who are you,

how did you know?

It doesn't matter. I am a friend.

Everything is cleared up, dear Count.

A passing indisposition.
A misunderstanding.

Go. She is waiting for you
to excuse herself.

Don't make her wait!
She'll think you're still bitter.

Count. Father.

I am sorry, but this isn't good
for the patient's condition...

Get him out of here.

Tell him to leave us in peace.

Please, Doctor.

If I need you, I will call you.

Please, Doctor.

When I returned to Angela's side,
I found her docile and cheerful.

But the smile was forced and her
docility was really just her resignation.

I didn't want to see it then,
but now I see it much clearer.

She accepted my courtship
with a certain obedience.

I wanted her to accept me of
her own free will,

and pretended not to see the iron hand
of her father,

who constrained her in the shadows.

I heard only my own feelings,

my selfishness,

instead of opening my ears
to that man,

the unknown man who had
approached me at the Ball.

You never saw him again?

Once. Only once.

On the eve of my marriage
to Angela de Lima.

I had gone to finalize the preparations
for the ceremony,

when I had the unusual yet
irrepressible impulse,

to ask God to bless our union.

And I recognized his voice immediately...

I see you haven't followed my advice,
Count of Santa Barbara.

I lament that.

For you and,
principally, for her.

This marriage will cause the disgrace
of Angela de Lima, and you, too.

If you can't find happiness
in being her executioner,

you too shall be disgraced.

A disgrace with no cure.

But who are you, sir?

How can you say such a thing?

What is your name?

Everything he told me, happened...

I tried to find out who he was...

They told me his name was
Sebastiao de Melo.

They told me the most contradictory
things about him.

I looked for him.

But no one ever saw him again.

He magically disappeared.

Naturally, he died.

No, he didn't die.
But it was as if he had.

Did you know him?

I knew him.

It's not possible!

Everything is possible.

That look!

That voice!

I knew I had seen you before!

Sebastiao de Melo!

Father Dinis Ramalho e Sousa.

The world now
knows me by this name.

I have asked you to come, Eugenia,

because I wanted you to bear
witness to my penance.

This is the declaration
I am prepared to sign, Mr. Registrar:

I have dishonored myself by insulting
the Countess of Santa Barbara, my wife.

I wanted her to pay for the sins of
her father,

the Marquis of Montezelos,

and so I gave her, for fifteen years,
a life of incredible bitterness.

I invented torturous methods to
humiliate her self-esteem,

and made attacks upon her dignity.

I brought her close to the grave,
and when I saw her run away,

I was indignant that the victim
hadn't let me extract her last whimper,

without society hearing it.

The Countess of Santa Barbara
ran away, just days ago, from her home.

I presumed that she had gone to count
her lashes,

which nobody could imagine.

I wanted to justify one disgrace with
another.

I accused her of adultery.
In truth, if her honor is stained,

it is due to my perversions,

and the contact I forced her into
with a man

of degenerate instincts that dishonor
the name of my forefathers.

Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes!

I told you the other day

that your ethics have imposed your
duty to give an explanation.

You told me.

I sent you two "seconds".
You refused the proposal of a duel.

I refused.

Do I thus understand that,
in counterpoint,

you propose
to make your amends?

You misunderstood.

In that case,
Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes,

I must consider you a coward.

You are a coward!

You are a coward,
Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes!

You are a coward!

Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes is a coward!

You are a coward! Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes!

Easy!

- Easy! Easy!
- You are a coward!

You are a coward! You are a coward,
Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes!

What happened, sir?

An uproar here between two nobles.

One of them called the other a
coward and tried to shoot him.

So, the other one grabbed him and sent
him through the air like a feather.

But what a spectacle!

And do you know what it was about?

One of the nobles with him
had mentioned

it was over some Countess or Vice
Countess of Santa Barbara.

Did you say the Countess
of Santa Barbara?

Or Vice Countess,
I'm not precisely certain.

Did you hear either of their names?
These fighting nobles?

One of them talked of...
Alberto de Magalhaes.

And this one, Alberto,
headed toward the other one...

I didn't hear what they were
talking about very well.

The unknown man who courageously
took up my mother's defense,

was that mysterious correspondent
who called himself Alberto de Magalhaes.

He tried to deflect revelations about
the son

who had been ripped from
her arms at birth.

And would become the most enigmatic
celebrity in Lisbon.

And yet, Father Dinis was not one
to leave a puzzle unsolved.

What comes around goes around,
my dear. Do you see?

Disgrace has tired itself out.

Thanks to you, Father Dinis.

I could never repay you for what you did
for me and for my son. Never.

No, my child. You owe me nothing.

I did no more than repair
a tiny part

of the evil the world has done to you.

And the Count?

Now that he has had his penance,

won't he want my mother
to return home?

No, no. Have no fear.

The Count is in no position to demand
anything at all.

He hardly dares beg you to forgive him.

If he doesn't oblige me to return,
I will forgive him!

I will forgive him with all my heart!

Would you agree to make this
statement in Santarem?

His condition is quite poor.

He fears he may not be able
to return to Lisbon.

And he despairs at the thought of dying

without hearing from your lips
that you forgive him.

No, mother, don't agree! Don't go!

I must agree my son.

Otherwise, I'll regret it my whole life.

Won't you follow me there?

That's perfectly understood.

When?

Tomorrow at dawn.

I wanted to ask you, Countess:

Alberto de Magalhaes,

does that name mean anything to you?

Yes, I saw it in writing once.

Where?

On a note a gentleman gave Bernardo to
deliver to me.

What did this note say,
if I am not being too indiscreet?

Something about the secret
of my son's birth...

I confess, I attached no importance
to it at the time.

I thought it was one more of the Count's
intrigues to torment me.

I threw it in a trunk and never
thought of it again.

But the name on the signature, yes...

Yes. It was Alberto de Magalhaes...

Why do you ask, Father Dinis?

Because I was told yesterday
that a man with that name

fought another man, on your behalf.

On my behalf? About what?

I don't know, Countess.
But we must find out

You must show me that note
when we return to Lisbon.

Countess, allow me to introduce you
to the Circuit Judge.

I know it is late, Countess,
but if Your Excellency desires

I can call witnesses to proceed with the
opening of the will...

No, Your Honor, please spare me.

I understand. As you wish.
I am at your disposal.

I am Friar Baltasar da Encarnaçao.

And I was here during
the Count's final moments

I have a letter to deliver to the
Countess.

Countess.

Friar Baltasar da Encarnaçao,

he spent the final moments
with the Count.

If you'll allow me to explain,
Your Excellency...

I promised your husband

that I would personally deliver
this letter to you.

He dictated it to me with his last
breath,

and he signed it himself with his last
bit of strength.

My heart tells me
you will come too late.

And when you come, if you come,
my body will already be cold,

my eyes will already be closed,

and my ears will already be deaf
to the forgiveness from your lips.

Don't curse me, Angela.

A man who promises me
your forgiveness is by my side.

And a just man who will tell you to
forgive me is by your side.

Listen to both of them!

Save me and may the world curse the
memory of the Count of Santa Barbara.

I die with your visage etched
upon my heart.

I was right to have
objected to their journey.

When my mother returned,
she was someone else.

What is going on?
Why won't she speak to me?

The Count is dead, my son.

Your mother has been greatly affected.

She hardly slept.

Come. I have serious things to tell you.

What I am about to tell you will
probably make you suffer.

But think of your mother.

You can be certain that her suffering
is infinitely greater than yours.

Think of her.

The Count of Santa Barbara
made your mother his sole heir.

She has refused the inheritance.

She thinks she has no right
to the fortune

of the man she never considered
nor accepted as her husband.

She did the right thing!

This inheritance would be
dishonorable.

That is what she thinks, as well.

Simply put, her refusal now leaves her
without the means

to live according
to her accustomed status.

As your grandfather,
the Marquis of Montezelos,

had said to your father,
your mother is poor.

A lady of her background,
with no fortune

and without a husband, has no place in
the world she knows.

But, alas, she has me. She has a son!

A year or two from now
I will be able to find a...

I don't know, a mentor!

I could be a mentor! I could teach...

A year or two from now, maybe...

Three or four, more likely.

But in the meantime, you must admit
you are more of a burden for your

mother than anything else.

And so?

So your mother has decided to enter
a convent.

No!

It's the only reasonable solution.

And, beyond that, it corresponds with your
mother's wish

to retire from the world that has made
her suffer so much,

and to respect the memory of the Count
of Santa Barbara...

What about me?

I just found my mother,
only to lose her again?

I know it's not fair, my son.

But I can only repeat what I said
a little while ago.

Think of her.

Think of her spirit,

after all these torments
that she has been through.

Think of your mother.

Goodbye, my lady.

God be with you.

Good luck.

Pedro... Pedro!

Come on.

Our men there boarded three
Spanish ships.

Silks and porcelain.
There was no resistance at all.

I've calculated our take at one hundred
and twenty thousand!

Silk has become scarce.

And in the Baltic?

No news. It's early.

What about Panama?

One boarding, but of no real interest.

The business in Peru is almost
finished.

Go on. You can come in.

The priest is here to see you,
Your Excellency.

I always thought you would end up
entering a religious order!

Have him come into the salon.

You'll wait for me here?

It is pointless. I had already finished.

They are waiting for me at the guild.

Leave through the garden.
You never know...

Is it with Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes
that I have this honor?

Don't you recognize me?

Should I?

Well, I recognize you.

It seems like yesterday...

Even after all these years
and with that cassock...

By the way,

is the cassock real?

Or is it more of a disguise?

I'm sorry, I don't understand
your intended irony.

Of what disguise do you speak?

The disguise of a gypsy.

His name was Sabino Cabra...

How do you know?

Where did you hear it?

Only two men knew that name.

One died, and the other...

The other called himself Knife-Eater!

Have I changed that much,
Mr. Sabino Cabra?

The cat is to be placed there!

Come on, quickly!

I want this done quickly!
Now leave!

I'm sorry.

The money you gave me
changed my life.

It freed my spirit.

It opened me up to knowledge.

The path of knowledge, of science.

Of free will!

This pot is going on that side!
Come on, quickly!

I want everyone working!
Come on! Such incompetence!

I'm sorry.

But that's enough of my speech.

I'm not going to tell you how
Knife-Eater

transformed himself into Alberto de
Magalhaes.

It would be long and tedious.

But I am also not going to ask how a
gypsy transformed himself into a priest.

But I am somewhat curious as to

whether the son of Angela de Lima
is alive.

He is. Thanks to God, he is.

Relieved to hear it.

Sincerely relieved.

I would like to see him.

You may.

But preferably without being seen.

I don't wish to explain the
circumstances

under which I saw him for the last time.

I understand.

You know...

at times I think I actually did
what I had intended to do.

It gives me the cold sweats.

I will never be able to repay you,
Father.

I am already paid in full,
Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes.

We settled all our accounts today.

Accounts, yes, accounts!

I would like to entrust you with the sum
that had saved the boy's life.

So that you can use to his benefit.

It was once the price of his blood.
It is only fair that he gets it back.

Careful with the Bust!

Let's get going, hurry up!

I want the candlesticks on that side!

I want everyone working!

Today!

This mission pleases me,
and I accept.

What are you doing here?

Get outside!

And quickly!

Gentlemen,

we're done for today.

Thank you very much.

Thank you...

Oh, I almost forgot! All of your
husband's wishes were fulfilled.

With the exception of the sum left to
Eugenia, his maid.

Why?

She didn't want to accept it.

She told me she hadn't sold herself
to the Count of Santa Barbara

while he was alive, let alone sold herself
to him after his death.

I didn't expect that of her.

Could I have been mistaken about her?

Days later, I met her in a carriage.

She stopped the horses,
called me to the window,

and gave me her address
in Praça da Alegria.

He invited me to visit him.

And you're going?

One of these days.

The mystery is provocative...

Oh, another thing:
tomorrow I can't come.

I'm leaving for Santarem.

Does it still have to do with the death
of the Count?

Indirectly. The count's confessor,
remember, the monk?

He asked me to visit him.

Will you please tell my sister?

Your sister?
Dona Antonia?

As far as I know,

Sebastiao de Melo had no sisters...

Didn't he?

Another secret?

You'll get your answer later.

I beg you to continue to consider
her as my sister.

You'll tell her?

Rest assured.

End of part one.