All language subtitles for Ivan the Terrible 2 (1958) BR ENG

IVAN THE TERRIBLE

PART TWO
THE BOYARS' PLOT

WRITTEN AND DIRECTED BY
SERGEI EISENSTEIN

This story about
Ivan the Terrible,

the founder of
the Tsardom of Muscovy,

tells of his struggle against
the foes of Russian unity.

In the role of
Ivan the Terrible,

Nikolai Cherkasov.

The Oprichniki:

Malyuta Skuratov -
Mikhail Zharov.

Alexei Basmanov -
Amvrosy Buchma.

His son, Fyodor Basmanov -
Mikhail Kuznetsov.

Philip, Metropolitan of Moscow
and of all the Russians -

Andrei Abrikosov.

Pimen, the Archbishop of Novgorod -

Alexander Mgebrov.

Pyotr Volynets -
Vladimir Balashov.

Efrosinia Staritskaya,
the Tsar's aunt-

Serafima Birman.

Her son, Vladimir Staritsky -
Pavel Kadochnikov.

Prince Andrei Mikhailovich Kurbsky -
Mikhail Nazvanov.

Sigismund, King of Poland -
Pavel Massalsky.

It is the year 1564,
the year in which the Tsar

formed his special bodyguard,
the Oprichniki.

The year in which Tsar Ivan
withdrew to Alexandrov.

The year in which the people
organised a procession

to beg the Tsar to return.

The year in which Prince Kurbsky
committed the base treachery

of surrendering the Russian armies
to the Poles

and transferred his allegiance
to King Sigismund.

There are certain defeats
that are more resounding than victories.

The defeat of my Russian army
near Revel

will spark off the revolt.

Tsar Ivan has fled the wrath of the boyars
and taken refuge in Alexandrov.

The Moscow boyars, the Kolychevs,

have managed to get
some messages through.

The Tsar is assailed
on every side

like a baited bear.

The boyars are seething with revolt.

The Tsar will fall
without a blow being struck

and the throne of Moscow

will be free for a new Tsar
well disposed towards Poland.

God in his wisdom decreed
that Lithuania, Poland

and the Baltic states should
serve as the outposts of Europe,

in order that the civilised
nations of the West

might be protected from
the Muscovite barbarians.

They say the Muscovites
eat children alive.

Russian soil is fertile.
The herds are well fed.

The sub-soil conceals
inexhaustible riches.

Of course, the Russians
have to be kept down.

But a strong man on the throne
of Moscow would shatter

the most cherished dreams
of all the European sovereigns.

We need the dim-witted
Vladimir Staritsky.

We must support the rebel boyars.

The solitary reins of absolute
power must be wrenched

from the Tsar and returned
to the feudal princes.

We must destroy the unity
of Ivan's Russia.

Once that has been done,

the Christian kings will embark
on a new crusade.

We will force the Muscovite
to serve the West.

We will drive the Russians
out of Europe

and force them back
to their Asian steppes.

Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

Tsar Ivan is on his way
back to Moscow.

It is the year 1565,

the year of the construction
of his military device,

the basis of his power,

the year of Tsar Ivan's return to Moscow...

So I've caught you.

You didn't expect me back, eh?

You were delighted by
the Tsar's departure.

You've shown yourselves
for what you are - traitors.

The rogues.

They wanted
to govern the land themselves.

All right, if that's what you want.

From now, I'll give you land to govern.

I'll give you land.

But as the widower,

I shall keep the widower's portion...

the towns along our borders,
from where

I will watch over the security
of the State

and guard the integrity
of Russian frontiers.

And I shall stamp out treason.

I have no confidence
in you boyars.

Therefore, as God created man
in his own image,

so I have created men in mine.
They will carry out my orders

and only they will enjoy
my confidence.

That is why I have
christened them Oprichniki.

These plans come not from God,

but from the devil.

He who defies ancestral traditions

shall not remain sovereign for long.

Fyodor Kolychev.

Say no more.

Why are you so severe with me,
Fyodor Kolychev?

Why, my good friend,
are you so cruel?

You should really pity me.

I am not Kolychev,
I am Philip the monk.

I carry out the will of God,
not the designs of the Tsar.

Listen.

Ever since I was a child,
the boyars...

Showed their hatred
of the Grand Duke of Moscow.

After my father's death,

my mother was killed.

They have poisoned me!

I am dying!

My son. They have killed me.

Watch out for poison.

Beware of the boyars!

Elena Glinskaya is dead.

That's how I came to be an orphan,
alone and abandoned,

whilst the boyars governed
in my name

and handed over Russian territory
to foreign enslavement.

Ivan Vasilievich,
Grand Duke of Moscow,

has graciously ratified
a commercial treaty

and agrees to pay duties
for the transit of goods via the Baltic

to the great Hanseatic League
of the German merchant towns.

The Grand Duke of Moscow
has reconsidered his decision.

He has concluded the treaty
with the Order of Livonian Knights.

Someone has certainly been
lining Shuisky's pockets.

The Hansa.

It was the Boyar Council's decision.

The Grand Duke is free to annul
the council's decisions.

But he has pledged his word.

The Grand Duke is the sole arbiter
of his word.

He gives it or rescinds it
as he pleases.

It is the Grand Duke's will
which constitutes the law.

But the will of the Grand Duke

is to conclude a treaty
with the Hansa.

The Grand Duke's will
is to concede the privileges

to the Livonian Order.

The Grand Duke's will is law.

We must pay the Hansa.

No, we'll pay the Livonians.

The Hansa will be more
profitable to the State.

You mean more profitable to yourself.

And you have been bribed
by the Livonians.

The money must go to the Hansa.

We'll pay the Livonians.

We will pay no one.

We are not obliged to pay.

The coastal towns were built
by our ancestors.

Those lands are our inheritance -
they must be returned to Moscow.

Who would be fool enough
to give them back?

Anything that falls off
the back of a wagon is lost.

If they won't return them voluntarily,
we shall take them back by force.

By force?

And where will we find this force?

You have wasted Russia's strength -

it has been frittered away
by the boyars.

O Lord, I'll die laughing.

Get your feet off the bed.

Off, I say.

Get off my mother's bed.

My mother, who was murdered
by you, you dogs.

A dog, am I?

Well, your mother was a bitch.

She used to sleep
with that dog Telepnev.

No one even knows
who your father was.

Race of dogs.

Seize him.

Seize him.

The leading boyar handed over
to the kennel men.

I shall reign alone.
Without the boyars.

I will be Tsar.

Now I hold great power.

The people support me.

My personal guard
form an iron ring around me.

My enemies are kept at bay.

But I have no close friends.

God refuses me the sweet
consolations of friendship.

On whose shoulders
can I rest my head?

With whom can I share
my joys and sorrows?

I am alone, abandoned.

I had a single close friend, Anastasia.

She has left me.

I had a friend, Kurbsky.

He has betrayed me.

No, not just myself...
but our great cause.

I don't fear the troublemakers.

I don't fear the sword,
poison or betrayal.

I fear not for myself.

But I tremble
for our great cause.

A new cause, on which
one had hardly embarked.

There is no higher destiny
than to reign

according to ancient traditions.

As our ancestors did.
Pay heed to the boyars.

Share your authority with them.

You lie, monk.
These are old wives' tales.

You reject the counsel of
your spiritual guide? Very well.

Remain alone.

Condemned, accursed...
and alone.

It is no longer the Tsar
who pleads with you,

but a friend crushed
by the burden of authority.

Don't leave me in my isolation.
Stay with me.

Help me to re-establish
Russian power.

And for this, accept the office

of Metropolitan Bishop of Moscow.

Will you allow me the right to plead

in favour of those you accuse?

I never accuse the innocent.

Wait.

Very well. It shall be as you say.

Why give the bishop
such power over you?

Why let yourself be humiliated
by an ignorant priest?

None of your business, dog.

I know I am a dog...
but I'm a faithful dog.

You are wrong, Tsar,
to prefer a priest to a dog.

I know, you want friendship.

You languish without friendship.

For friendship you are ready
to bow at his feet.

Do you not see that Philip
has only one idea -

to conceal your enemies
under his own skirts?

A friend, eh?

He's hardly worth more
than Kurbsky.

You dare pronounce that name?

Ah. I know you love Kurbsky.

It's not his treachery
which wounds you.

It's the loss of a friend.
You don't sleep at night.

Hold your tongue, dog!

You don't show any gratitude
or affection

to those who are loyal to you,

who'd give their lives for you,

who carry the weight of your power
on their strong shoulders.

My power is carried
by the shoulders of the people,

and their will is my strength.

I hear the voice of God
through them,

and I carry out his holy designs.

Tsar, I beg you, don't let the priest
do as he pleases.

Don't trust anyone.
You hold the power. Use it.

I understand. You've given
your word to the priest.

You've made him promises.

You can't go back on your word.

I understand.

So we must see that the Tsar's
word is respected

and wipe out the traitors too.

It's just going back on your word
that worries you, isn't it?

There is a way out.
Use a cat's paw.

No, a red-headed dog -
me, Malyuta.

I'll take the Tsar's sins
on my shoulders.

I'll give my soul for the Tsar.

I'll go to hell if need be,
but I'll keep the Tsar's word.

What does the hound do
when the game tries to go to ground?

Flies straight as an arrow
to the lair.

He outwits it -
heads it off,

outruns it.

Outstrip the priest?
Is that what you're suggesting?

So he won't have time
to double back?

You'd give your soul for the Tsar.

Eh, dog?

You complain the Tsar
doesn't spoil you?

Be off with you.

Do what you have to do.
By God's will, be judge and executioner.

And to outstrip the priest,

we'll start on some of his
distant relatives, the Kolychevs.

Kolychevs are untamed,
but we'll tame them.

By what right do you set yourself
as a judge, Tsar Ivan?

By what right do you wield
the sword of justice?

Let me not drink of this cup.

You cannot avoid it...
Even though some cups contain poison.

The cup?

The goblet.

They poisoned her.

They poisoned my sweetheart.

Who gave the fatal goblet
to the Tsarina?

She received it
from my own hands.

And who gave it to you?

Efrosinia.

Efrosinia?

Is it possible?
The Tsar's aunt?

My own blood relation?

Silence. Not a word of your
suspicions to anyone

until I have ferreted out
the truth. Come.

In the name of the Father,
the Son and the Holy Ghost.

Our Sovereign Ivan Vasilievich,
Tsar and Grand Duke of all the Russians,

has pronounced these boyars

of the Kolychev family
to be traitors.

The aforementioned boyars, having been
in communication with the king of Poland,

with the aim of submitting
to foreign domination,

Ivan Vasilievich,
Tsar of all the Russians...

has condemned them to be
beheaded for high treason.

Too few.

By God's power invested in you,

bring the Tsar to heel.

I charge you
to excommunicate him.

I shall return to my monastery.

You daren't. If you don't bring
the Tsar to heel,

you will answer for it before God.

Ah. My lord.

I ask for justice against the Tsar,
and protection.

I ask that the boyars' cause
be defended.

No, I do not ask, my lord -
I demand.

That is not all I'm demanding.

I demand that the Tsar be humbled.

I do not ask.

I demand.

God be my witness.

It is not for myself,

nor for the members of my family
who have been executed.

I take up the sword
on behalf of the boyars.

Justice must be done
against the Tsar.

Beneath my priestly robes
beats the heart of a Kolychev.

And a Kolychev
who is a prince of the Church.

Even the Tsar can do nothing
against the Church.

Come tomorrow to the cathedral.

I shall humble the Tsar.

I shall crush him
with the Weight of the Church.

God be praised!

Mother, what's the story
of the fiery furnace?

The story tells how a heavenly angel
led three youths,

called Shadrach, Meshach
and Abednego,

out of the fiery furnace of Babylon,

into which a ferocious heathen Tsar,
Nebuchadnezzar,

had thrown them.

Now, there are no such angels.

Innocent, we were flung
into the burning, fiery furnace

Lit by the Chaldeans

For having disobeyed
the heathen Tsar

Chaldean. Hey, Chaldean.

What is it?

Is this the Tsar's work?

The Tsar's.

They disobeyed the Tsar?

They disobeyed.

So, we are going to hurl them
into the burning, fiery furnace.

We are given into

The hands of lawless princes

Wretched apostates

Into the hands of an unjust Tsar

Who is the wickedest in the world

With her staff,

the old lady...
Hands off the Tsar's aunt.

She is Tsarina in her own house.

So she slapped your faces,
you and your henchmen.

I recognise the family spirit
right enough.

Perhaps this is the right moment

to polish off the Staritskys
with one blow.

They have opposed the Tsar's will.

It is not for you, Alexei,
to tell the Tsar what to do.

Not for you, Fyodor,

to raise your hand against
the Tsar's family.

No harm shall come to Efrosinia

as long as she calls herself
the Tsar's aunt

and does not claim to become
the mother of a Tsar,

a Tsar who submits to the boyars.

As for you, Basmanovs -
learn to keep your place.

And the poisoned goblet...
have you forgotten that?

Be quiet.

Be quiet, Fyodor.
Do not mention that grave charge.

God grant it was not she
who was guilty.

Why, shameless Chaldeans,

do you serve a lawless Tsar?

Why, bewitched Chaldeans,

do you serve a devilish,
blaspheming and despotic Tsar?

Why do you torment us with fire?

Why do you burn us?

And now, bear witness to a miracle

The terrestrial lord will be humbled

By the Lord of Hosts

The Tsar of all the Russians
begs your blessing.

I do not recognise the Orthodox Tsar
in his pagan actions.

In what way, monk,
do my actions concern you?

Your actions are those
of a bloodthirsty beast.

Silence, Philip.

If you question my sovereignty

you will incur my anger.

Now bear witness to a miracle

The terrestrial lord will be humbled

By the Lord of Hosts

Ivan, like Nebuchadnezzar,

you cast those who are close to you
into the fire.

But the avenging angel
will descend from heaven

and free them from their prison.

Silence, Philip!

Submit to the authority
of the Church, Ivan.

Repent.

Dissolve the Oprichnina
before it's too late.

Ivan... dissolve the Oprichnina
before it is too late.

Silence.

Mother, is that the terrible
and godless Tsar?

Mother, it is the terrible
and godless Tsar.

It is her, Fyodor. It is her.

From now on, I will be
just what you say I am.

I will be Terrible.

Philip has been arrested.

He has been forbidden to go back
to the monastery.

He will be given a savage trial.

He will be condemned.

In the old days,

they would have handed Philip
over to us for trial.

It's no good living in the past.

We must find a solution.

There is no solution.

There is a solution. Just one.

The last.

Kill the Tsar.

Either kill the Tsar
or lay our own heads on the block.

But who will do it?

Only the pure in heart
would be worthy of carrying out

so elevated a mission.

Pyotr Volynets,

I consecrate this mission to you.

Come, my brothers,

embrace for the last time

God's servant, Pyotr,
who lately dwelt among us.

He has vowed himself to the grave.

He will repose beneath a cold slab.

He is entering into the shades.

He bids farewell to friends
and relations.

He will lie with the dead.

He confiscated Church property.

We will exterminate the beast.

We must save Philip, because
he has incurred Ivan's wrath

for our sake.

That will depend
on Philip's judges.

Who will preside at the tribunal?

To whom must we send our gold,
plate and furs?

It is I who will preside
at the tribunal.

That means he is saved.

That means he is lost.

Philip is more useful to our cause
as a martyr.

A corpse, a martyr,

a saint is more valuable
to our struggle.

A dead man - a saint - is invincible,
even for the Tsar.

His cowl is white,
but his soul is black.

Why are you always trying
to make a leader of me, Mother?

Why do you want to sacrifice me?

A black beaver was bathing
in the river

In the frozen Moscow River

He didn't wash himself cleaner,
he only got blacker

The beaver, having taken his bath

Went off to the capital's high hill

To dry himself,
shake himself and look around

To see if anyone was coming
to look for him

The hunters whistle,
searching out the black beaver

The hunters follow the scent,
they will find the black beaver

They want to catch and skin
the beaver

And with its fur then to adorn
a kingly mantle

In order to array

Tsar Vladimir

I'd suffer the pangs of your birth
a hundred times over

for you to ascend the throne.

To see you seated
on the Tsar's throne.

Take the crown.

Take the collar.

I've always been frightened of blood.

You won't have to shed it.
That will be Pyotr's job.

Yes... but after,

to be haunted by remorse
for the rest of my life,

always seeing him wherever I go,
enduring his silent reproaches.

Whatever else you need fear -
it's not that.

When the throne is yours,
you will punish the regicide

and others, too.

A sovereign should not stray
from the path of righteousness

if he can help it,

but he must be prepared

to tread the path of evil if necessary.

Our great sovereign
offers you a cup of wine.

Moreover, our great sovereign

invites his cousin Vladimir Andreyevich
to the royal table.

The hand of God.

Our cause prospers.

You will accompany Pyotr
to the banquet.

And don't forget to wear
your new kaftan.

I'll remind him.

The hand of God.

Our cause prospers.

Empty.

Hollo, hollo!

Faster. Faster.

Bravo! Bravo!

Ah, Brother Vladimir,
you don't love me.

You don't care that I am so alone,

that I'm just a poor, abandoned orphan
whom no one pities.

It's not right for the Tsar to fraternise
with the landowners

and above all with the Staritskys.

It is not for you, Alexei,
to teach the Tsar his business,

nor to raise your hand
against the Tsar's relations.

But it was you who taught me
to weed them out.

The Tsar's connections
outshine all other connections.

As the celestial tamarind
outshines homely oak.

Aren't we the new forest
growing about you?

I don't hack down oaks
to make room for wretched aspens.

Do not touch the Tsar's relations.

The ties of blood are sacred.

Aren't we who are closest to you
bound to you by other blood -

blood which has been shed?

You are no relation of mine.

You are my slaves.

I raised you from the dust
to crush the boyar traitors.

I express my will through you.

Your function is to serve me,
not to teach me how to behave.

Keep to your place, Basmanovs.

You are beginning to catch
the boyars' sickness.

You are beginning to get ideas
about rank.

Would you like to put yourself
beside the Tsar?

I've sworn never to fraternise
with the boyars,

nor with the landowners.

I am alone, a poor orphan.

No one loves or pities me.

The guests have assembled
in the courtyards of the boyars

In the courtyards of the boyars

The axes skim the necks
of the boyars

The axes, the axes

Come along, come along

What happens next?
What happens next?

Come on, tell us more
Come on, tell us more

Strike with the axes!

The gates have split down
the middle

Down the middle

The golden goblets pass
from hand to hand

From hand to hand

Come along, come along

What happens next?
What happens next?

Come on, tell us more
Come on, tell us more

Strike with the axes!

Oh, you are wrong,
Tsar of all the Russians,

- you have friends.
- I haven't one.

- Yes, you have.
- Don't lie.

- I'm not lying.
- Then who is my friend?

- Well, me for one.
- I don't believe you.

I swear it.

Don't swear it.
Prove it by your actions.

I will prove it.

And when the guests are parting,
having drunk their fill

Drunk their fill

They set fire to the castle

Set fire to the castle

Come along, come along

What happens next?
What happens next?

Come on, tell us more
Come on, tell us more

Strike with the axes!

What is Archbishop Pimen's man
doing amongst the servants?

Pimen assigned him to the service
of Vladimir Andreyevich.

You lie... You won't prove anything.

I will... I will prove it to you.

You sit here celebrating

and you don't even know
some people want you out of the way.

- Is that so?
- I swear it.

And whom do they want
in my place?

You'd never guess.

I said to her, "Who'd want to be Tsar?"

Plots... executions.

As for me, I'm just a peaceful man -
all I ask of life

is to drink and live in peace.

Indeed, who'd want to be Tsar?

The task is a heavy one.

That's exactly what I said.

Why do I want to be Tsar?
But she insists.

Take it... take the crown.

Take the collar.

Take the crown...

Take it.

Take it. Why not?
Take it, cousin.

Bring the Tsar's regalia.

He likes it,

this lackey of the Poles.

The farce is over.

Enough of this ungodly revelry.

Brothers, let's address ourselves
to the Almighty.

Let us think upon our last hour.

Awake, my soul, awake

Lead us to the cathedral.

A Tsar does not draw back.

The Tsar is always first to enter.

Ivan is no more!

Good people, look.

Ivan is no more!

The brute is dead.

Russia shall flourish

under a boyar Tsar. Vladimir.

Holy Mother of God.

Torture me.

Execute me.

You'll never make me speak.

I won't give anyone away.

Why are you holding him?

It was not the Tsar he killed...
only the fool.

Let him go.

And it was not only a fool he killed,

but the Tsar's worst enemy.

My grateful thanks.

As for her...

They want to catch

And skin a beaver

And with its fur then to adorn

A kingly mantle for... for...

Tsar Vladimir

As for her...

A black beaver was bathing...

I swear before God to accomplish

In Russia, my royal mission

To purge the Motherland
of her savage enemies

To shed with my own hands
the blood of the guilty

Without mercy,
either to myself or others

For the sake
of the great land of Russia.

A Tsar must always
weigh and assess.

Mercy and gentleness
for the good.

Cruelty and torment
for the wicked.

A Tsar who hesitates in this
will never make a Tsar.

Today in Moscow,
we have struck down

the enemies of Russian unity.

My hands are free.

From now on the sword of justice
shall flash against those

who dare to oppose, from without,
the greatness of Russian might.

We will not let Russia be abused.