All language subtitles for Mag (Frantisek Vlacil, 1988) ENG

Whoa!

Don't forget to write me.

About banns, about the marriage

and mainly about Lori.

Lori, poor girl.

- Did she ever complain?
- No.

Poet's girlfriend will promote to
wife of bureaucrat.

Get out, now.

- Thanks heaven.
- Write soon.

And don't let Lori go out of the house.

- Look at him, what a handsome man.
- Yes, sure.

An archduke without adjutant and valet?

I don't believe that!

Alarm! Alarm!

Alarm!

Withdrawal! Stupid Kaspa!

Time yet to come? Tomorrow's day?

Still, still some dream will time repay,

Or sleep too deep for dreaming?

Perhaps this life which here I live

Is but a sleep

and dawn will give
only another seeming?

Or that best rose,
long longed-for here,

that fruit the wide earth did not bear,

will dawn and death disclose?

Who knows?

Oh, no one knows.

No one knows.

No one knows.

Marinka...

Did I disappoint you?

- I gave my word, Marinka.
- To whom?

To myself.

A chaplet would come in handy.

With a little veil.

Kaska, be reasonable! The people
would make fun of me.

Wouldn't they, Leni?

Come on...

Oh man, your voice... It's
like your Daddy's...

You miss him, don't you?

I'm sure he misses me too.

His office is quite long way from here.

But Hynek is good-hearted man.

But I'm not sure if we match
with each other.

Sometimes I have a feeling,
Mr. Tyl,

that all this poem writing

is making him a bit crazy.

Mr. Macha is a kind of poet
who are very rare.

You are jealous of him, aren't you?

He's been rather jealous of me, actually.

Where did you leave the husband, Michal?

Lori... Hynek is dead.

I entered the world, hoping that

the my days will come up,
golden as May.

Beautiful May passed,
withered the bloom of spring;

The summer fire burns high,
autumn, and winter after;

another spring comes on,

As time bears off the years
on its unresting wing.

Hello, Jakub.

This bloke is drunk, my friend Zacharias.
He thinks we're...

He thinks we're standing on the stairs.

- Pepi!
- A bit to the right. - Pepi!

It is a year since he asked Marenka to marry him...

Damn, I won't remember it. Marenka.

He proposed to Marenka...

- Mr. Tyl.
- I'm off.

Please, Kaska.

- I'll be right back.
- Be so kind,

take care of maiden Somkova.
- With pleasure.

Leave that kid alone, Hynek.

Who is that girl?

Lori's not for you.

Leni, I will bet you anything that this
kid will fall in love with me

before there's first curtain.

Well, it could happen,

but it is not appropriate
to make bets about this.

If you are really serious.

All the less, if you were just joking.

Please.

- May I?
- Thank you.

Drink a bit. It will warm you pleasantly.

What's wrong? You don't like me?

Yes...

Yes.

My nose is slightly crooked, though,

but this imperfection is compensated
by my nicely arched forehead.

Isn't it?

What do you think?

Jenicek?

- Yes.
- Be so kind, would you?

Look, what it is
causing down there.

Yes, I'll take a look. Sure I will.

- You are born actor, Mr. Macha.
- Everybody is born for something.

And you, Kaska, you were born for tailoring.

So stick to it.

- But I really love drama.
- Then what to do with you, man?

When Mr. Tyl will need a role of tailor in
his slapstick,

Leni will put in a good word for you.

- Sometimes I hate you, Hynek.
- I'd prefer something more serious.

You know, I showed off to my mother
that I'm spending my time with you.

Now she can hardly wait
to see me in a play.

She gave me three florins.

To make a contribution, if you
wouldn't mind.

- Oh, you can't do that.
- Bravo, Kaska!

Director will get three florins and
you'll get Romeo.

- That's not what I meant.
- Or would prefer something less demanding
from our own production?

I'll fix it.

You shouldn't have done this to Kaska.

I don't understand why you are
accepting people into our society

who are not equipped to excel with nothing.

Did you do it to to impress maiden Somkova?

Snotty and prideful as Devil himself.

He'll play leading men.

There will be no courting, dear Zacharias.

The one who doesn't want to
get married doesn't have to woo anyone.

- Didn't you propose?
Prompter: To Marenka...

You're trying to tell I asked you to marry Marenka.

If I get married, I'll be goner.

Well...
It is a place where everybody must go...

Yes.

But my dear, I'll be dead

right after the wedding night.

Have you lost your mind?

No, I haven't.

Dear former future father-in-law, on the contrary.

And that's why there will be no wedding.

Bravo!

Bravo, Kaska! Bravo!

Kaska, forgive me those
offensive things

I had recently said about you in public.

I behaved unreasonably and silly.

Right, Macha!

Bravo, Macha!

I'll do everything to deserve
your friendship.

I mean really everything.

Don't be fool, Kaska.

As if you hadn't known Mr. Macha.
He's a poseur.

You don't understand me, Mr.Tyl.

Believe me, I feel sorry for you.

Each of us is heading
different way.

You yourself have said,

that the most different people
follow different life paths

to reach the common goal in the end.

Speak for yourself with your own words,
not with mine against me.

Well, I don't know.

When they see you
dressed like this,

they will consider you to be an emissary
from some God-forsaken place.

And then you'll end up
in prison.

Don't laugh.

People can hear the grass growing,
if they really want to.

- Come, Jenik. Be my guest.
- Thanks.

And please, give him
a good talking.

Tell him to keep studying instead
of continuing with those "masterstrokes".

Far from it! Mr. Macha knows
for the best what to do.

All of this because of
that Somkova girl.

Such girl. Where did
you lost your mind, Hynek?

My god, what's that she's wearing?

I knew it. What did you
tell them about me?

Our discussion with Mr. Tyl
was honorable.

No word of you spoken.

- I went -- by chance...
- I don't like any chances. Especially yours.

Lori, come with me.

- But you...
- Come with me already!

- I'm here with my mother.
- I'm telling you to come with me!

A bit of gallantry should be
part of such uniform you have.

Don't you think?

That will be your task to do.

That's a bit too much.
What do you thinK?

Caprice, Mrs. Somkova. Caprice
and exhibition.

Look at it.

He's been dating the girl just several months
and he's already bossing her.

When she's smiling,
she's told to cry,

when she's crying, she's told to smile.

Everything according to him.

Many times, he speaks in
front of her about things

I've never heard in my life.

If he desired to have learned woman,
he should have searched somewhere else.

She's not the type of girl who would
need words of wisdom from him.

Why did you laugh so much?

No reason.

This coat suits you.

Don't you ever again listen to people,
who say things about me to you.

Do it, if you like me at least a bit.

You mustn't like anyone.

Deep in the lake's heart drowned from sight.

But deeper, see, at the water's rim,

From a little window a lantern's gleam;

This night to vigil Vilem is giving:
Tomorrow sets him free from living.

His heavy guilt

and yours he carries:

Deep your seducer's
blood has stained him,

That stroke a parricide arraigned him.

You liked it, didn't you?

That's why you didn't resist.

I did.

Nothing would have happened, if you
didn't want to.

I don't understand.

One can see a mile off, that
you enjoy making love with men.

Not with everyone. Only
with you.

What do you mean?

Have you ever tried? Have you or not?

How can you know
you wouldn't enjoy it?

Oh my God, Hynek.

What are you doing?

Nothing.

Bear for his guilt, and your own shame,

my bitter curse, and the world's blame.

Bear for his guilt, and your own shame,

my bitter curse, and the world's blame.

Sir.

Mr. Macha.

This is for you.

Excuse me.

What have you done
to me this time?

I'll break your neck!

- Come here!
- Let go of me!

- This is round and round!
- Ouch! Leave me alone!

- I'm gonna kill you!
- Ouch!

May I ask you, sir...

What do you want from her?

I don't know myself.

Such distinguished man.

And he keeps bothering
immature whore.

Time yet to come? Tomorrow's day?

Perhaps this life,
which here I live,

Is but a sleep...

And dawn will give

Only another seeming?

Where do you know
these words from?

I know everything
you wrote.

My father brings me
transcriptions of your poems.

I can't go anywhere
by myself.

Yes.

That's exactly how I imagined you,

while reading your poems.

Thank you for coming.

I don't meet anyone.

I'm still alone.

Only this Anezka's clock measures
my time here.

Will you ever come again?

Tomorrow?

Tomorrow?

No.

I have no time.

I must travel to Krkonose.

I've never seen them.

I've never see mountains, nor trees.

I know all of this just from you.

- From your poems.
- I can't postpone this trip.

I gave my word.

To whom?

To myself.

You clouds, whou in your wandering course embrace

like secret circling arm the earth her own course keeping,

you dissolutions of stars, shades in the blue of heaven,

you mourners ever to mutual sorrow given,

who know so well the ways of silent weeping�

Bear you my charge,
of all things that have birth.

where you pass from me
on your long, wide way,

to the distant shore,
there for a moment stay,

there, pilgrim clouds,
greet reverently the Earth.

All this I know from you. From
your poems.

I see (famous bandit) Babinsky
is here with you.

I always wonder

if the smell comes from
him or his filthy bitch.

Do you know him?

Who is it?

Vasek Kumr, gruesome
lord of woods.

He ambushed carmens' wagons

with bunch of cutthroats
called Kumrs.

Jakub!

And sometimes even
postal wagons.

They say he spent half of his life
in the prison of Spilberk castle,

with Babinsky.

If someone is rogue,

their roguery
must be worth it.

For every prominent villain
always manages to slip away unhurt.

And the weak ones take
the rap for them.

All the forests in their station,

sound the great, sad accusation:

"They have slain him�
slain him!!�slain him�!!!"

At the markets, people
sing songs about Kumr.

Because he has killed
many people.

Even one member of my
family was a murderer.

But nobody ever wrote anything
about him. And he was parricide!

Cousin from mother's branch of our family,
his name was the same as yours.

There are lot of people
named Macha.

But he wasn't Macha,
but Hynek.

Schiffner, after his father.

He killed him with a hoe.
In a hop garden.

Why did he do it?
No rason?

Because of woman.
What else.

Father didn't let his son
marry the girl he liked,

because he himself was
in love with her.

Hynek was raised in the God's fear.

On Sundays, he used to play
organ at the masses.

And in the end - he whacked him!

One blow with a hoe...

and suddenly you are a murderer.

- Was he sentenced?
- Yes, he pleaded guilty.

After that, he was waiting three
months for the execution.

- Did they hang him?
- They broke him upon the wheel.

I wasn't there.

But people said it was mockery.

The worst must have been
those three months before execution.

The waiting for death.

Something like that cannot
be possibly described.

You think?

Hey! Do you need a lift?

There's still one free space.

Deep silence.

From the streaming wall
flows down a small, slow river,

and echoing drops the silence fret;
through the long cell their hollow fall,

measuring night's moments of regret.

There never�never�

never an and.

From death

that passes not away...
Who shall my soul deliver?

Unending silence�never a sound�

Unending space, night, time, surround.

The dead mind dreaming on decay�

Mere nothingness�for ever!

And I to nothing�but one more day,

and I to nothing am cast away.

Let me help you, ma'am.

Oh my god, why are you here
with that child?

I came here to impetrate
Heaven for him.

Here?

Are you a heathen
that you don't know?

We've been doing this for ages.

A day before funeral.

Otherwise he wouldn't go in heaven.

Go away,

leave us here.

Leave us alone!

Off you go!

Go away!

Go already!

She's been expecting you.

Perhaps this life which here I live,
is but a sleep

and dawn will give
only another seeming?

Who knows?

Or that best rose,
long longed-for here,

that fruit the wide earth did not bear,

will dawn and death disclose?

Oh, no one knows.

A girl destinated to die
can't disappoint anyone no more.

Listen to my advice.
Get her out of your head.

You didn't even know her.

That's everything he
had on himself?

Everything, Mister Commissioner.

"The untuned harp,

whose strings
distil no more delights,

the deeds of time gone by,

quenched starlight overhead,

heresy's pilgrimage,

the loving, lovely dead..."

What is it supposed to mean?

Poetry.

This is supposed to be poetry?

To me,

it is some sort of
cipher message.

Carbonari?

Who's the author of these verses?

I am.

Can you prove it?

Perhaps by the fact that I intend
to publish them with my name on the book jacket.

Don't make me laugh, boy.

No one will publish this. Nowhere.

Oh, they will.

- You are in Prague already?
- Hello.

Where should I be instead?

I thought you were still on the road,
after you hadn't showed up.

I bet you didn't miss me much.

You sure can easily amuse yourself.
With the others.

Me?

What are you thinking?!

I hope you again fell in love
with somebody here.

And I hope it was as easy
as it was in my case.

Believe me, please. I'm seeing
nobody.

- Not even before.
- Can you prove it?

Hynek, please...

Don't. Someone might see us.

People might see us.

So let them!

Not here...

We're going to have a child.

A child?

Your child.

Hynek.

Your child.

You sure about that?

Are you sure it's mine?

Trojan, that's like him.

He arranges an audience
and then he leaves us freezing.

- Whether he's coming or not...
- His Majesty Lord censor.

Jan Nepomuk Zimmermann resides
there. Almost in heaven.

In order to be properly detached.

- Where have you been so long?
- I was trying to get this.

This is a real key
to the heaven's door.

It's easy to fool around
when you don't worry about anything.

- Oh I do. I worry about you.
You better go see him without me.

- I am a raven who brings bad luck.
- Karel, pray for us.

Dear St. Jan of Nepomuk,
please protect these boys.

The main purpose of my poem
is a celebration of spring nature.

In the first number, for example,

there's calm and pensive nature

in contrast to unbridled love
of human beings...

Venerable consistorial councillor, we presume

that it is high time to start
fixing people's minds.

Because unlike these days,
some time ago Prague used to be

rather free from
godlessness and immorality.

That's why in the works
of my friend,

the speciosity of human actions
is potrayed by lively colours.

Plus, there is condign
punishment in this work.

It is just a preachy novel, actually.

A novel pervaded by the faith in God.

The same faith, by which
are pervaded

even your remarkable works,

if you pardon my frankness...

Venerable consistorial councillor,

let me ask you

for kindly putting your
signature on your book.

I read it very often.

And if there's your personal
signature in it,

I will appreciate it doubly.

You own my book about
Saint Jan of Nepomuk?

I hope you are aware of the fact,

that it is a very rare copy nowadays.

Of course. Here, if you can.

Thank you very much.

What are we gonna do with this?

The dead mind dreaming on decay�

Mere nothingness�for ever!

And I to nothing�but one more day,

and I to nothing am cast away.

Where did you find
a faith in this book?

The most important is that
the blest Jan Zimmermann of Nepomuk

found it.

Isn't it?

Have you talked to the publisher yet?

No.

I've decided to publish
May by myself.

My own printing.

I won't let those tricky
printers gouge me.

- Rozinka?
- Yes? I'll be right there.

How much will it cost you?

Printer Spurny wants
three florins per quire.

So the total cost is?

- Around 44 florins.
- It's pretty much.

Do you have the money?

I've got something.

I have some friends, too. I hope
they'll lend me some.

And there's pawn shop, too.

Come here, Lori.

Excuse me.

You aren't jealous of Roza, are you?

We're celebrating.

Look.

Wait...
Here it is...

Imprimatur.

Stow it.

Stow it, I said.

I won't let you ruin the most
beautiful day of my life.

My mother died.

I love a flower
because it withers.

an animal, because
it perishes.

I love a man, because
he dies and exists no more,

because he feels that he
vanishes for good.

I love...

No, more than love...

I worship God.

Since he does not exist.

She never liked me,
am I right?

- She didn't.
- And yet you are praying for her.

Well, it is my mother.

If you really care about
her redemption,

repeat my words.

I swear by bright remembrance
of my mother...

I swear...

I swear by bright remembrance
of my mother

my fidelity to you,
always and in any case.

As it has been until now.

As it has been until now!

Why you didn't say
"As it has been until now"?

Are you scared to swear it?

- Why would I be scared? - You should
know that. That's why you're hesitating.

I wasn't the only one you loved, was I?

No, you were the only one!

Did you sleep around with the others?

- God knows who's the father of the child,
am I right? - Hynek, for God's Sake!

- Whose is the child?
- Don't yell!

- Whose?
- Don't yell!

- Why are you tormenting me so much?
- You are tormenting me!

Why don't you believe me?

I'll swear anything you want,
Hynek. You know that.

Everything I want.

I'm using brand new letters for you. Thy're
being used in the printing for the first time.

Get your paw off it.

Are your hands clean?
The paper.

Help me.

You need still hands, boy.

- I said it. It's blurry.
- Never mind.

I'll keep this sheet
as keepsake.

Turn it over.

The title is very important.

Maybe this will bring you luck.

His poem is piece of crap,

which has fallen into the flowers

right from the inactive volcano.

We can and we do have a liking for flowers.

However, as mentioned before,

it shouldn't be inside
cold and dead meteorite

which was thrown out from
torn bowels.

This is my question:

Why a young man, talented mind,

dwells over a wheel and execution?

And yet I would like to hear
dark sounds of his harp

to resonate in a different way.

In a different way,
as long as we live.

Not in that non-Czech way.

If Mr. Macha would be so kind and
give us a second edition of his dreams

in the second edition of his book...

Bugger him.

A few stupid reviews cannot
upset you, can they?

Of course not.

But this won't earn my living

and I'm getting married.

- Did you think it over, Hynek?
- There's nothing to think over.

When my girl eats, she feeds two people.

Everlasting, dead nothing!

I'll have a child.

A son.

My uncle. You know him,
don't you?

No.

Well...

He's searching for an assistant
to his notary's office.

But it is... you know...

- It is too far.
- Where?

Well, it is far as...

Well, that's too far.

In Litomerice.

Is it true?

I swear by this saintess.

If those noble patriots do not
like my May,

if it is just a trash to them,

a trash right from
the inactive volcano,

which has fallen into the flowers,

well then...

adieau, dear Prague.

Farewell!

- Look at him, what a handsome man.
- Yeah, sure.

An archduke without adjutant and valet?

- I don't believe that.
- He's right.

Hello.

How come you want
such exorbitant price for this?

For this? For a couple
of worn-out lines?

You are leeches, tricksters
and thieves.

You have received payment order
corresponding to valid rates.

Who do you think I am?
A thief or what?

- I raise money honestly.
- That sounds nice, Mr. Ledvina.

- Particularly when you say it.
- What is it you don't like about profession?

If you think that

I have soft and easy living

as an executioner and a knacker,
do it instead of me.

We'll see what knacker
and executioner you will be like.

What's going on here?

Mr. Ledvina thinks

it is a good idea to attack
our office, because...

Because you're bunch of crooks!

Because he refuses to pay a
scale fee for our legal work.

You are paid for every scumbag
you hang, too.

I'll hang you with
pleasure and for free.

You bastard! Thief!

Would you please open the door?

If he hurts himself or
breaks his legs,
we're in trouble.

Who are you anyway?

- Hynek Macha.
- Macha...

I see.

Well, that was a great introduction.
Welcome aboard.

Your services will be
beneficial for this office.

- Mr. Lorenc?
- Yes?

I've heard you have some
free rooms in here.

I have to ask my
wife about it.

Well, can I view them at least?

Wait for my wife.
I don't have a key.

When she'll be back?

She went only to miller's.

I'll give you an advice.

Praise her for something,
when she's back.

That it is clean here, for example.

Or praise her for her flowers.

- This kind of stuff.
- Yes.

A woman likes to hear
these things from strangers.

- It's not the same when I say it.
- You talk rubbish, old geezer!

- Mrs. Lorencova, right?
- So what?

I heard you're offering
an apartment to let.

Maybe.

It's up to Lorenc.

Well come on.

- These flowers are very nice,
Mrs. Lorencova. - They're not mine.

They're Lorenc's

Melnik.

And Doksany, out there.

And Svaty Hanzburek.

Well? Do you want it?

Yes, I want.

I do.

Of course, Mrs. Lorencova.
But...

Can you get me a bed, at least?

Just for starters,
until we move in with my wife.

You're married?

Yes.

- Is she from Prague, too?
- Yes.

Is professor Knoll still lecturing?

He teached us
Austrian law.

Professor Kleinw�chter
teaches civil and property law.

And what about professor
Wenzel Ritter von Kopetz?

Can we not talk about the law
while eating, for a change?

Mea culpa, mea culpa.

- I've heard you're married, Mr. Macha.
- Yes.

- Is it a long time?
- Not long.

- Why didn't you take
your wife with you?

First, I have to set things up.

We're expecting a baby.

Soon?

Just these days.

You'll be young father.

I bet your wife is very young
and pretty

and rich, isn't she?

What a pity. As a graduated
lawyer from Prague,

you would have found very
advantageous relationships here.

But I love her.
I mean my wife.

Yes, we all do.

At least in the beginning, right?

I'm looking forward
to meet you wife.

It's just a few steps.
You gotta handle it.

I'm afraid I'm gonna die.

Where's Hynek?
Why he's not here?

I am here.

You'll stay here with me, won't you?

Say you will stay, Hynek.

I'll stay Lori, don't be scared.

When I'm with you, I'm not afraid
of anything, Hynek.

Hynek...

Out of heaven a star falls questing

Dying through the wastes of space

Endlessly it falls unresting

Through its endless resting-place.

Is there then no end of dying?

Nowhere�never an end of death.

Nobody's child but mine
could have so sad eyes.

Mine.

Thank you for son.

We've been expecting you
since afternoon.

I know.

I thought I would take a ride,
but nobody went around.

Why are you doing this, for God's
sake? You're killing yourself.

I must leave in the morning.

Mr. Justiciary has no idea
I travelled to Prague.

How long the night,

on me a longer closes�

Away, thought!

Horror shuts from sight,
the grave his thought discloses.

Deep silence.

Once again the chime of slow
drops falling metes out time.

Rest for a while.

You look tired.

We have first
banns on Wednesday.

I'm not sure if Mr. justiciary
lets me go.

I told him we're already married.

We discussed everything
I needed to know.

Now tell me the name of the groom.

Karel Hynek Macha.

- Birthdate?
- November 16th, 1810.

1810.

- Birthplace?
- Prague. Na Ujezde Street, No. 400.

- Domiciled at the same address?
- Now it is Cattle Market.

- No. 551. - Somewhere near
Saint Ignatius church.

- Right accros the church.
- Father owns a mill shop there.

- What's his name?
- Antonin Macha.

- Mother's name?
- Marie Anna, born Kirchnerova.

Marie Kirchnerova.

How long do you know the bride?

Two years now.

I can see you are very young,
both of you.

What about your parents?
Do they approve your marriage?

It is not him!

He's his brother.

- You're not a groom?
- I'm not.

- Well where is he?
- In Litomerice.

Don't make a fool out of me!

Why a groom cannot come
by himself?

This way, you could marry him
to someone against his will.

Hynek wasn't able to come,
Your Worship.

He had to stay in Litomerice.
In his office.

Well, he should get
married in Litomerice.

Without banns, there's no wedding.

Goodbye.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

Seven florins, please.

- Seven?
- You think it's not enough?

Even five would be
too much for this.

Mister, the river's length
remains the same,

no matter if you carry
a jamjar or wagon of xcoal.

Ok, than.

- But I'll need your help.
- Alright.

The untuned harp,

whose strings
distil no more delights,

the deeds of time gone by,

quenched starlight overhead,

heresy's pilgrimage,

the loving, lovely dead...

Why don't you write
about something funnier?

- That's what is my wife telling me too.
- Is she?

Our intentions are good,
I guess.

I don't understand why
at the end of your poem,

a turtle-dove calls your name
together with the name

of that highwayman and that
sinful selfmurderer.

It's hard to explain.

I like to read about love,

but not every love has
to be unlucky.

Aren't you angry at me because
I was honest?

Tomorrow afternoon, at about 3 p.m.,
I'll be on the island with my daughter.

Maybe we'll meet there.

Are you already familiar with Litomerice?

Yes, I am.

See you the pilgrim there,

hastening on his quest
through the long, sunset fields,

beneath the dimming west?

Strain your eyes as you will,
the end you cannot see,

as over the edge of vision
he falters and finds no rest. Never--

- Albertina!
...Ah, never.

I'm coming, mom.

And this is all life offers me.

Who comforts me? What
charm this heart can move?

Love is without an end!

And bitter is my love!

Let's form a chain, people.
A chain! Hurry up!

Pass it to me, come on!

Next!

There's nothing to safe.

It will burn to the grounds.

Follow me, people!

Line up!

Pass it, come on!

- Is it you?
- Yeah.

The one you threw
down the stairs.

- Will you do it again?
- I'll think it over.

Who the hell is it?

Climb down!

Don't do it again if there's
another fire in the future.

Realize, that our home lies just
about 100 metres from those barns.

Imagine what would happen
if our archive caught on fire.

Official records are much more
important for our town than

threshed straw of
some cottager.

Of course,
Mr. justiciary.

I have no intention
to offend you, young man.

However, it seems to me

that you're not aware
of present time you live in.

And that's something really
bad for our profession.

There's no 'present time'
for me.

Since there's no such moment
at which life would stop.

There's only the past and the future.

There are only things that were,

and things that will be.

In my case, only
the future is important.

I take it as a dream.

And everything
I do,

I do for the future.

Is your place as cold as mine,
Lori?

No, it's not. Michal lit the stove.

Come to my place.

I am afraid to ask about my son.

I know that you would tell me

if Ludvicek was
feeling good already.

He's fine.

He's completely healthy.
He himself wants to be breastfed.

We don't have to force him.

Michal laughs at him because
he drinks like he was a Piarist.

Michal.

Michal, again.

Can't you be alone for a while?

I'm alone too

and I have to stand it.

If you were here with me,

Justiciary's family would
have invited us for lunch.

Last time, they gave
me flank of pork

which lasted at least for two days.

Today, they had a rabbit
with cream sauce.

With cranberries.

Be quiet or I get hungry.

I can see all the vineyards
in the Elbe Valley.

When ships cruise around,

their bunting flutters
near my windows.

They carry coal.

And I am almost cold.

I'll come to you soon.

I've packed everything I need.

- Clothes, dishes...
- Don't forget a mirror.

What else do you need?

A hatchet and a coal scuttle.

A shovel.

And a candlestick.

And some other home stuff.

An iron, too.

And clotheslines.

Mr. Macha.

Mr. Macha!

He might took the disease
with him from Prague.

He has visited Prague much
more often than we thought.

Several people had died of it in Prague.

We have to be hopeful.

But even if he hadn't
suffered from cholera,

people in this town would
spread the word of suspicion

and no one will come
to our office anymore.

I fear that he had
infected one of us,

during his visits at our home.

There's nothing I have done
without your knowledge.

Lori, how...

dare you...

act against my instructions?

Do you want to ruin everything?

It's easy.
I'll leave Litomerice.

He's there with someone.

If you act against my
instructions again...

- I think it is a girl!
- A weird get-rich-quck.

Until I come to Prague, you're
forbidden from leaving my room.

If you betray me,

I swear by my life,

you won't see me
ever again.

I'll swear anything you want,
Hynek. You know that.

I've heard someone's
being ill in here.

Is it you?

A long way awaits you.
You need to be prepared for it.

There, pilgrim clouds, greet
reverently the Earth.

Ah, well-beloved earth,
beautiful Earth,

My cradle and grave,

the womb that gave me birth,
my sweet, sole land,

Ah, vast and single,

of beauty as of worth.

He didn't stayed inside
much long.

What to talk about

when you live in peace
with the others and with yourself.

The last indignant thoughts
of the defeated dead,

their unremembered names,
the clamour of old fights,

the worn-out northern lights,
after their gleam is fled,

the untuned harp, whose
strings distil no more delights,

the deeds of time gone by,
quenched starlight overhead,

heresy's pilgrimage,
the loving, lovely dead,

The deep forgotten grave,
eternal board and bed;

the smoke of burned-out
fires, the scattered bell's chime�

like the song of dead swam,
like Eden snatched away,

So is my childhood time.

But what of following time?
My youth, alas, my youth.

My season and song are May!

Light laughter on the lips,
deep grief in the heart's core.