Original subtitles

They say that through words pain becomes more tangible.

That we can look at it as a dark creature

all the more strange to us, the closer we feel it.

If one of these little seeds falls ill the rest of the organism falls ill too.

But I have always believed that the pain that doesn't find the words through which to be expressed

is the most cruel one, the deepest.

The most unfair.

I spent my life loving a woman that loved another man, who did not love her

but another woman who he was never sure loved him back.

This was a time in which I could still look at the future

with more hope than fear.

That's not a horse, it's a dog.

That's two fishes kissing.

They kiss through their gills. Don't they, teacher?

- A headless sheep. - They are only clouds.

I see a man with a huge sword. Bigger than himself.

It's a very… very pretty and sad woman.

That one is just like the rock by the lake.

Well, I just see clouds.

The schoolteacher will come then…

What a bother over my brother. Of course, he'll come.

Where would he go if not?

During this length of time in which we have been talking,

have there been any storms during which he may have been struck by lightning?

There hasn't, has there?

And there aren't any dangerous animals in the vicinity.

Except for myself, according to the neighbours.

And I haven't moved from this spot either.

Let's talk about serious matters, my good lad.

Have you ever read "The Divine Comedy"?

The book by Dante? No. But I was almost about to several times.

I've devoted my life to the study of that book.

Every day, for the last 48 years I've memorised a verse.

Some days even two.

You must know it by heart then.

Not really. You forget everything eventually.

And it's a relief to know that each and every day I can't remember what I knew the day before.

Who are you waiting for, you say?

The schoolteacher, your brother.

Of course… of course.

It's strange! There was a young man here waiting for you just now.

He must have left.

- Are you waiting for me? - Yes, I was.

I've been living for some time now at…

Yes, yes, I know where you live.

Then you know who my mother was.

I can imagine.

My wife is very ill.

All the doctors in the vicinity have seen her and nobody can give us a clear diagnostic.

She's been bled, they've given her potions, and they've turned her upside down without success.

I'm sorry.

But what is it that you want of me?

My mother told me of you.

She told me that you were a doctor long ago.

And that I should call for you if I ever needed you.

Armancia, your mother, didn't tell you the whole truth.

I was an awful doctor.

And I doubt that 40 years out of practise have improved my knowledge.

Make an effort, try at least.

I think it's serious.

Martin…

Because that's your name, isn't it?

Sometimes a wrong intervention is worse than no intervention at all.

It would be useless for me to see your wife.

I'm not a doctor anymore.

My mother would have felt very disappointed to hear that.

If I remember right, it wasn't easy to disappoint your mother.

Good bye, then.

Are you leaving?

My brother will be back soon.

A doctor!

A charming young man, the one that came this afternoon.

He was eager to read "The Divine Comedy".

Is that what he told you?

He looked worried, though.

Something about his mother, he said.

Jonás, I'm not going back to that house.

- What? - I said I'm not going back to that house.

Who asked you to? Tell me, who?

- You don't know how much I appreciate… - Don't thank me.

You may regret having come to me.

Have the cook prepare a light chicken broth with fennel

and feed it to her yourself bit by bit.

As much as she can take.

Add a couple more logs and heat the room.

We have to make her sweat.

My mother always told me how you helped her and her sister when their parents died.

I was unable to help them.

I would have given my life to, but... No, it wasn't me.

May I ask why you abandoned medicine?

Oh, that. Rather say medicine abandoned me.

And why waste your time with snotty little brats

that barely understand what you are talking about?

Most of the time I don't understand what my peers are talking about.

And those brats, as you call them, ask more stimulating questions than yours.

Would you mind if we step out to the garden?

I think you'll want to talk and… I don't quite feel

like those old men who like to talk about their past battles yet.

The fresh air will do me good.

And don't get nervous.

We won't know anything concerning your wife until dawn.

I trust you.

Trust me, trust me. Yes, indeed, why not? If you've decided to trust me, do so.

I haven't been around here for over 30 years.

And now, what do you feel now?

Now? Nostalgia.

Nostalgia for the past pain.

Indeed, you have before you someone who pines for sorrow.

Your mother's sister, Matilde, used to talk about pain.

Even when she was happy.

And are you happy at last, Matilde?

What a stupid question. You look splendid.

As if happiness had nested in every one of your features.

Then it must be true.

I'm not dreaming this shiver that washes over me when I wake up, as if it said: "it's true, it's true".

- Do you love him so? - Love him?

I feel as if you could never fit all that which I feel for him

in the letters of that word, should I live a thousand years.

The simple thought that something might happen to him causes me such pain

that I think I would die if something should come to pass.

Not in my imagination but in truth.

When you are a child, no one tells you that love can be so…

Devastating.

Yes. Like a thousand storms together.

Oh, doctor. Tell me that it will last forever. Tell me that it's not a dream

or an illusion that will disappear when I reach out to touch it.

It won't disappear. You have to banish those fears.

- Love… - Shhh. Oh, it's his horse.

He's coming!

Take my pulse.

Feel how it runs wild as he comes closer.

It's true.

Won't you take mine?

Of course.

My pulse is running wild as well, isn't it?

It is a tad quick, Armancia.

Do you know why?

You have sung too much and run a lot.

No, it's not that. Put it close to your heart.

It's because of you.

You know, my mother married four times and I always remember her as a happy woman.

The happiest I've ever known.

When luck is sorted out some are given the measures

that others will lack all their lives.

Even as a child your mother was among the first class.

And her sister Matilde?

Matilde?

I wished for her happiness more so than for mine.

Then, you loved her?

You loved her… She felt the same… Did she ever know what you felt for her?

She knew, yes.

Of course, you want to know everything. The why, how and when it began.

You want a story, don't you?

A collection of funny happenings to tell your friends in a long night,

playing cards in front of the fireplace.

I don't play cards anymore and don't have any friends in the vicinity.

And you want the story anyway.

Is there anything better than a good story?

No, I suppose not.

Let's go to the pavilion. I think I can still find it.

Everything started… My God, I don't even remember how long ago.

Suddenly, in the region that had always been known for its game,

it started to mysteriously vanish.

It was also around then when my brother,

until then a boy, I even considered boring

because of his dull behaviour, after a horrible accident

decided to dedicate his life to the study of "The Divine Comedy".

But that's another story.

When the game disappeared from the region, the local landowners grew bored.

You're telling me.

Then one of them, your grandfather, Matilde and Armancia's father,

decided to turn this hunting pavilion into a fencing room.

And hired for that a renowned Italian maestro.

The maestro arrived one autumn day accompanied by a girl whom,

during her childhood, no one ever heard utter a word.

Apparently, her mother had died at childbirth.

Well, I hope you'll find everything to your liking.

The pavilion also has some rooms

for you and your daughter to make yourselves at home.

Is there something I can do for you? The floor must be polished, of course.

Un specchio. A mirror.

We'll need a big mirror. What is fencing without a mirror, monsieur?

A mirror? But of course.

Of course, a mirror. How could I not have thought of that before.

It's unforgivable. I'll go arrange it immediately.

[Italian:] Do you like it?

That arm is in the place of a leg. The arm must be aimed upwards.

Only down in the moments when we are safe,

when we feel it is the right moment.

Feeling the moment, that's the basis of the art of fencing.

This mirror is not here for you to arrange your wild hair.

This mirror is intended to help you feel the line of your body.

So that you can know what your opponent sees when you are there.

To help you develop the coordination between your brain and your arm.

Ah, you! The one with the Greek poses!

Do you think fencing is only a chessgame of postures

with which to exhibit yourself and melt the ladies' hearts?

Nothing further from this noble art than the vain exhibition of feathers of a peacock from the new continent.

And how was your fencing?

My father insisted that I come to the pavilion

and he even bought me a little foil.

But… to me, fencing was very boring.

And I had my own way of getting bored.

An ogre with seven heads.

A winged horse.

My brother's face.

One day my father, who was a doctor, was summoned to the garden house.

And since there were no clouds in the sky, I decided to go with him.

When Matilde smiled at me

I felt how my heart grew warmer with every little movement of her lips.

A heart that had been in winter during all my eleven years.

It was a smile that talked to me. To me alone.

Setting me apart from the rest of mortals and at the same time,

binding me tighter to them.

My father managed to save her life.

Since then and to my father's astonishment and joy

I decided to become a doctor.

Breathe, come on. Push, push. Breathe.

- Marche - Marche

- Touché - Touché

The years started to go by quickly.

But do they ever go by slowly?

But yestermorn I turned my back upon it;

This one appeared to me, returning thither, And homeward leadeth me along this street.

This one appeared to me, returning thither, And homeward leadeth me along this road.

And he to me…

Armancia!

Here vigour failed the lofty fantasy:

But now was turning my desire and will, Even as a wheel that equally is moved,

The love which moves the sun and the stars.

Don't be afraid, he is my brother.

He likes to recite aloud.

I…

I was looking for my sister.

Armancia!

We can look for her together if you want.

Armancia!

You don't remember me, do you?

No.

My father is a doctor. I came with him when you were ill.

Your father saved my life.

I'm going to be a doctor too.

A doctor!

Then you could cure me.

Are you ill by any chance?

It is not easy to explain.

Sometimes I wake up thinking

that something terrible and marvellous is about to happen to me.

And other times… I laugh and weep at the same time.

My sister says I'm mad.

In that case, I share in your madness. She is the one who's mad.

Your brother too. Everyone is mad.

What's wrong with you? What are you laughing about?

I'd like to introduce you to our new doctor.

We fall in love with a voice, a set of features, a gesture

Why precisely with one single combination among all the possibilities?

What strange alchemy makes it be that one and not another?

What hidden shortcut does a soul take making its way towards ours?

The maestro had fallen ill.

And it was now her daughter Valeria who took charge of the lessons.

At first that shocked the people in the neighbourhood.

But Valeria's reserved, unsociable and irreproachable behaviour

and the continuous presence of her father had quickly silenced the gossip.

One day your grandparents, Matilde and Armancia's parents,

received a message from New Schotland.

They had to spend some months there to set in order the affairs

and inheritance of a relative who had just passed away.

And, as it was common then, they left their daughters

in the keeping of the abbess in a nearby convent.

I then spotted the opportunity to grow closer to Matilde again.

I thought up a naive strategy that, I know, you'll now find ridiculous,

but that, back then, I believed ingenious.

Every day the nuns came out about 3 o'clock

to take a walk over the hill and around the lake

where I knew Matilde always stopped

beside a curiously shaped rock that she had adopted.

Another day, Matilde, open in your absence.

If by any dreadful chance you weren't in my thoughts

I would feel so empty as a pumpkin full of snow.

- What are you doing, Armancia? - I'm eating a love letter.

And what does it taste like?

I've never been written one.

Since I'm married to God and he never writes letters…

How many nuns are there in this convent?

We are 23 and the mother superior.

- And all of you are married to God? - All.

I will never be a nun.

- And what if God calls you? - I won't listen to him.

- I know what you're thinking about. - What?

About the flowers on the rock.

No, I wasn't thinking about that.

You're a liar.

You're right. I was thinking of the hand that writes my name on an empty envelope.

- Is it always empty? - Yes.

Are you sure you're not hiding the letters from me?

I wish I had letters to hide.

I know not if thou understand; I speak of Beatrice; her shalt thou see above,

smiling and happy, on this mountain's top.

Smiling and happy.

Who is Beatrice?

Beatrice? I don't know.

And you, who are you?

Armancia. I am Armancia.

What if it was Jonás who was writing to you?

That evening I had to go with my father to take care of a smallpox epidemic

in a near village and I couldn't leave my daily present.

That messenger, a french gentleman who had sought his fortune in Halifax, brought bad news.

The parents of Matilde and Armancia had passed away in strange circumstances.

I can't stop thinking about the messenger, Armancia.

I no longer find comfort in my prayers.

- Perhaps you shouldn't have listened to God. - Now I know there are other voices.

We have taken away their rites, their paintings, their gods… And for what?

I can assure you that I've never found a better example of goodness.

And all because they follow no rules except those dictated by their feelings.

And that makes them happier?

Yes, Matilde.

I think there's no burden worse than guilt.

Being free means being so always.

They say there are no heavier chains than those of love.

Only one who accepts freedom can love.

The day I love someone I will put him in a cage for ever.

But Armancia, if you do that, he will stop loving you.

When I was summoned because of a fever that the messenger suffered

I knew by Matilde's face that my battle was lost.

And that the alchemy that had occurred between them in those few days

could never be equaled by the passion that I had cultivated over the years.

The most ironic thing is that from that day on

Matilde took me as her best friend

sharing with me all the troubles of her heart.

And all her happiness.

I then told myself that if it meant being close to her

it did not matter to me the name her lips should pronounce.

In spite of everything I'd like to be in your place.

The love which moves the sun and the stars.

The love…

The love which moves the sun and the stars.

I had to get away from there.

And it was a good opportunity to improve my knowledge of medicine.

Though in those days everything seemed to me useless and senseless.

I understood better than ever my brother's insanity that covered him like a protective cloak that I even grew to envy.

Through me the way is to the city dolent; Through me the way among the people lost.

Through me the way is to eternal torture. No. Through me the way is to eternal dole.

Eternal dole.

Excuse me. It seems that I'm needed.

- Is something wrong? - No, no.

Aren't you hungry?

No. Inactivity spoils my appetite.

Anything whets my appetite.

I almost forget!

You still haven't seen the pavilion that our father turned into a fencing room.

The maestro is still there teaching lessons. That might serve as a distraction.

Yes, perhaps I'll go later.

When will we buy new dresses?

And the party? You said we would throw a big party to celebrate your wedding.

I know, Armancia. But our parents…

Yes, I know. But I've never seen a party in my life.

We'll have a party, Armancia. And we'll dance.

Until the marble on the floor wears out.

Good morning.

A good day for snails.

I've been told that here there's a fencing teacher.

[French:] My father is ill.

It's him who taught you French?

Yes.

A nice place for practising.

Have you seen other ones?

I loved fencing.

I haven't practised for a long time.

Won't anybody come today to practise with me?

When it rains nobody goes out.

Except for picking snails.

And you?

I find snails disgusting.

No. I mean, what do you do here?

Do you take care of your father's pavilion?

You could say that.

And don't you get bored?

I think I'll be going.

Since it's been so long

since you've practised,

I think you won't mind if you do it with me.

What do you mean?

My father has taught me some positions.

Nothing major. Since I'm always sitting here

I see the others training.

I'm afraid I might hurt you. That would be unfair.

I see.

You think it's fair though, to allow me to continue to be bored.

No, but with you I…

You're beginning to annoy me.

All right!

Only some basic positions?

Only that.

How long it's been then since you trained for the last time?

One hundred years?

What's your name?

Valeria.

Valeria, so that you can forgive me:

I'd like you to come to a party tonight.

Such a small victory doesn't deserve such an honour.

Will you come?

Without weapons?

Léon, do you still love me?

Of course I still love you.

And when you aren't with me, do you love me then?

But I'm always with you.

When you dream? Or only when you sleep?

Then you think you love me?

Because I know I love you when I sleep.

Because when I wake up and see you by my side I think I'm still dreaming.

The first guests are arriving.

[French:] Let's go.

[French:] You had no intention of attending the party.

Don't you like parties?

I've never seen one.

- And don't you wonder? - No.

Did you think I would come to make you change your mind?

Yes.

And did you want me to come?

I think so.

Yes.

But I didn't want to want.

I hate

to have desired it.

Why?

I was educated for fencing.

Here, take a foil.

We could measure our forces one more time.

We are already doing it, Valeria.

This morning, when I woke up, I woke up from you

and my only desire was to keep on sleeping to keep on dreaming of you.

You should go.

My father is ill in the next room.

Say that you don't want me to go.

- You should return to the party. - I hate parties.

Léon.

Say it again.

Léon.

I'd like to see you somewhere else.

I want to fight with you somewhere else.

I cannot abandon my father now.

Tomorrow morning

I'll wait for you by the rock that is next to the lake.

Léon! Léon!

Did you see me dancing last night? Did you see how I danced?

I wore out all the marble on the floor as you said.

Did you, you little devil?

What a surprise that you've come.

Did you know this is my rock?

I was here when I saw you for the first time.

Yes, I remember.

Matilde got a lot of flowers then.

Is that true?

I feel guilty because I've never given you any.

You give me much, much more than that.

Shall we travel soon?

I want to see every city in the world.

Would you like to leave here, to travel?

[French:] Yes, why not?

You look as if you had fought a battle.

No. I came running.

I see. And you held such a desire to know the fate of my humble existence

that you dare wake me just when I had finally fallen asleep.

You have all your life to sleep.

Yes, and all my death.

Where were we?

Are you, by chance, a messenger from hell who comes

to tempt me and embrace my dark thoughts?

Are you sure the text says: "to tempt me and embrace my dark thoughts"?

Oh, don't worry. I didn't say it by heart.

I wrote it on the cuff of my shirt to impress you.

You can imagine the first thing I did,

though it was the last thing I had promised myself I would do,

was going to the garden house to give my respects to Matilde.

Well, have I to ask if you are still as happy as you were?

Although probably it's a senseless question.

Yes. Of course I am. How could I not be?

But it is you who has to tell me about the city,

about your studies, the women you have met…

Women? I can assure you that as far as I'm concerned,

in the city there were only medical students, brainy professors

and -forgive me-

corpses.

And your husband, has he yet made himself comfortable here?

Yes. I hardly ever see him, you know.

He spends the whole day practising in the pavilion.

It seems he is making great progress.

The poor dear was a little bored so…

I'm glad he has something to keep himself entertained.

Matilde, will you count on me as your most faithful friend for anything you need?

Promise me.

Matilde wasn't happy as she stated.

And I found myself praying that nothing bad should happen to her.

I realised that I loved her more than ever with a love that was unknown to me.

I would have given anything to give her back her happiness

even in another man's arms.

Being his father doesn't give you the right to treat him like this.

I warn you: next time I won't hesitate to denounce you.

You could have caused him much more serious wounds.

I started to exercise my profession but sometimes, even then,

I felt more like a schoolteacher than a doctor.

Healing is not only a matter of applying bandages

but of changing the thoughts that rot in people's minds.

And that… is more difficult.

There are grey clouds that take their colour when they are near the moon

There are clouds without shadows.

There are thick, white, bright clouds touching at the edges.

There are pale veils formed by ice crystals.

Clouds like herds.

There are black clouds like dark mountains that cover the sky in mere instants

and soak the earth with rain.

Are you sad because I'm leaving?

No, I like it when I miss you.

Then I'll stay a little longer.

Yes, we miss each other.

There are some places

which preserve the moments we have lived in them in a special way.

And when we come back there they are,

ready to be brought to life again,

untouched.

Do you know

when passion becomes love

and when love becomes passion?

When do we cross the border between our being and that of the other and we can't return anymore?

Matilde, I beg you…

At what moment does it crystallise?

At what moment does any shred of will abandon us?

At what moment do love and pain become so mixed that no one,

not even oneself,

can tell where one begins and the other ends?

Don't torture me with your words any more, Matilde.

Your pain is the only thing I cannot bear.

Do you think love is an incurable illness?

Léon, your wife is very ill. She has a high fever.

I'm sure she is in good hands.

What better hands than yours, those that saved my life?

I… She is calling for you, León. And I thought…

I think she needs you at her side.

There are some things that medicine can't alleviate.

I'll go soon. As soon as I can.

Since you judge me to be better there is something I'd like to ask you.

You know I'll do whatever you ask me to.

That's what you said once, I remember.

It is about the pavilion.

- The pavilion? - Yes.

I've heard that my husband and the maestro's daughter face off there every day

and it is beautiful to see them fence.

That they are reaching perfection in the noble art of fencing.

I'd like to watch them, please.

Matilde, you don't know what you're asking me.

I cannot allow you to leave the house.

Nor can I be accomplice to anything that might worsen your state.

Matilde, I beg you. Forget the pavilion.

There's nothing there that can… that may interest you.

You know, when I was a child my father took me there

and the only thing I got were bruises.

Matilde, I beg you. Promise me that you will desist of that mad idea.

Is it so serious, what happens there

that the sole sight of it would worsen my state?

Promise me, Matilde.

Alright, then.

I'll return tonight. Have some rest.

And have the servants light the fireplace.

See you tonight.

Good bye, Armancia.

Take care of your sister.

I'll go with you. I'll help you get to the pavilion.

Why have I given in, Jonás?

Why have I accepted without a fight that she love another.

I liked to go hunting…

If only I had told her how much I loved her.

…to lose myself in the woods following a trail.

What can I do now?

Why have you never asked me what happened that day in the woods?

You said it was an accident.

No.

It was not an accident.

Jonás.

I couldn't do anything to prevent what happened to that poor girl.

And what could I have done?

It was a matter of justice.

And I'm glad I had the guts.

Since then I have nothing to do with anything or anybody.

Jonás.

But my own wings were not enough for this,

Had it not been that then my mind there smote

A flash of lightning, wherein came its wish.

Wherein came its wish.

I want to learn fencing, Matilde. It's nice, isn't it?

Matilde! Matilde!

But what happened? What have you done?

I had to.

I had to understand.

Sometimes you don't need to go so far to understand.

You don't need to take a single step.

I know that too.

And I'm sorry.

You mustn't be sorry.

Now you shouldn't make any efforts.

You're wrong.

I should.

I thought I lived a clear life and I was surrounded by fog.

And I pulled you into that fog.

How could I not see the pain in your eyes

when I told you about myself and my passing happiness?

I was never loved as I dreamed to be loved.

Only by you.

And because of that my life was not so in vain.

You have to fight. Do it for me.

There isn't anything that you should regret. Anything.

You are wrong again, doctor.

As you were when you loved me

the day you came with your father to this very room.

No. I wasn't wrong, Matilde.

The heart is never wrong.

And it's not too late.

You have to keep fighting. This time you'll have me at your side.

Promise me two things.

I promise you whatever you want.

When I die…

You're not gonna die. You can't die.

…I want you to open the chest at the foot of my bed and I want…

When I die,

before my body gets cold,

kiss me

so that I can take your warmth with me where I'm going

because I didn't love you.

Matilde!

That very night I burned all my medicine books

and I decided not to treat anyone ever again.

There were no clouds in the sky, neither that day nor any of the following.

Although perhaps I would not have noticed if there had been any.

And what happened to Léon and Valeria?

I don't know.

They left the house, I think. I never heard of them again.

I think one of them died shortly after.

Well, at least that's what I seem to remember.

I could kill you.

Why don't you?

The only thing that holds me back is the idea that for you it would be a liberation.

Then set me free.

I will forget Léon and I'll have several like him in my life.

For you there won't be another like her.

The heart is our main organ.

These vessels take the blood to the whole body.

And likewise, the cavities here, here, here and here,

and the arteries push and drive the blood

that goes up to our head when we get angry.

and goes down to our feet when we are sad.

And when we are happy?

When we are happy…

I don't know.

I've come to say good bye.

Are you leaving, Armancia?

Yes. I want to see all the cities in the world.

Besides, Valeria is going to teach me fencing.

I hope…

I hope you'll be very happy.

I know I will. I know it.

Some day I'll come back and take you with me.

- Good bye. - Good bye.

Write to me! Your letters were so nice!

Then I began: Sorrow and not disdain

Did your rendition… condition fix within me so,

That…

That…

That… tardily it wholly is stripped off,

As soon as this my Lord said…

said…

unto me words.

Milady is awake. And she asked for you.

Won't you come in?

No. She probably needs you more than me.

I hope that someday you will come to visit.

If you want to…

What did you say to my wife's ear?

Earlier, tonight.

Oh, I lied.

I told her you loved her.

There are clouds like crystal veils

and clouds which are heavy like a castle.

Clouds that resemble the face of the beloved one

and clouds with faces we don't want to remember.

I always lived looking at the sky and never found two identical clouds.

That is how I want to die.

Looking at the clouds

and looking for the question to an answer I don't know.