All language subtitles for Malombra (1942)

Marina di Malombra, orphaned
and without means

after a life of ease
and thoughtlessness,

is received by her uncle
in a solitary palace on the lake.

The uncle, a man of severe principles,
imposes one condition:

Marina will leave the palace

only when married.

-Is this the palace?
-The castle of the Unnamed.

No, simply
the d'Ormengo palace.

For three centuries, my, and thus also
your ancestors, have lived here

with honor and grace.

If you want to turn back,
you have only to say so.

On this point
we understand each other, I think?

Hurry!

My respects, my lord Count.
You had a good trip?

Good morning.
My luggage...

Ah, yes.
The Count's luggage.

If you please.

Give me that bag.

Welcome, Lady Marina.

I hope you'll like it here.

And the lake?
Where is the lake?

No, this part of the house
faces the mountain, it's more sheltered.

But I want the lake.

The lake is only visible from the eastern
side, long uninhabited and very cold.

That doesn't matter.

-I suggest. at least for now...
-No, here I feel suffocated.

Okay.
Giovanna!

So, as you wish.

Let Donna Marina go second.
Let's go...

Where are you taking me?

To a bad place, my dear signora.

-Then I shan't go.
-It might be better.

Yes indeed.
And the Master? Good heavens!

Let's go, let's go.

Signorina, listen to a poor old man.
Don't go in there.

Why? What is this room?
A closet, a granary, a well?

-O no, the room is beautiful.
-So?

Pardon me if I take the license to speak
for three, but in there is the devil!

I don't know how to explain.
-Silence. Prudence.

What's wrong with you?

Come with me.

Lady Marina ?

Now I'll get your bed ready
right away.

Your maid's room is next door.
Do you need anything else?

This devil...!
Where is this devil?

Dear Madonna! I don't know.
It's what people say.

What do they say?

He remembers.

What do they say?

They say that inside
there's the soul of a poor dead man,

who'd be your grandfather,
the Count's father.

So my uncle
is the devil's son?

No, the Count's father
wasn't the devil.

You must know that he held
her here, as in prison,

the Countess, but not
your grandmother, his first wife.

From Genoa,
Lady Cecilia.

Then I was a child,
like my mischievous nephew,

but I remember very well
Countess Cecilia.

Blonde...

-She looked like you.
-Like me?

The poor signora went mad,
and at night played this spinet.

She'd sing for hours,
for hours...the same music.

No, no, signorina !
Better not to touch it.

Why? Because here too
the devil's inside?

No, but once a maid who
wanted to touch it for a moment

suddenly heard
a sigh in the room

and fell down
and remained three days in fever.

I'm not staying here!
I'm not sleeping here!

I'm going back to Milan, to my home.
I don't have a home,
but that doesn't matter

I'll go somewhere.
Signorina, please let's leave!

Don't be childish.

Do whatever you like,
signorina, but I'm not sleeping here!

-No, no, no.
-Tell me, signorina.

You can come sleep
near me, downstairs, dear.

Stop crying.
Come with me, signorina.

Don't cry, let's go.
And what are you others doing here?

Come on, quickly. Bring the
mattress and linen. Come on!

Hurry !

I'm sorry, signorina.

Why did my Grandfather d'Ormengo
keep it closed up?

Who knows? Lordly secrets.
And now...

You can tell me. Why?

They said
Countess Cecilia, poor woman.

wanted someone else, an official.

And her parents had made her
marry your grandfather by force.

She and the official
spoke in hiding.

One night the Count
caught them, and then boom!

If you knew what he was like...

He was of a certain character,
this Count.

So he brought her here
and locked her in here for 12 years.

He as well, eh! for 12 years always here,
he never went out of here.

He kept watch over her.

The Count calls me. Excuse me.

Where the devil
were you, Giuseppe ?

Ghosts from the Past

O Marchesa, my respects.

Your girl, the maid,
was just telling me...

That you're a terrible Don Giovanni.

No, Marchesa, I assure you.

We were talking
about your health, that necessitates...

O, my health... As long as I breathe
this air, within these walls...

Have you ever been
in Paris in spring?

Doctor,
let's make a pact.

I'll ignore the projects
of Don Giovanni, and you in return...

-Doctor.
-O, my lord Count.

"I, Cecilia..."

Cecilia...

"I, Cecilia, in order to remember.

"So that I'll remember, in God's name!
Otherwise, why be reborn?

"You who've found
and read these words,

"know within yourself
my unhappy soul.

"Remember!
You are me myself!

"Before your birth you were
Cecilia Varrega, the unhappy wife

"of Count Emanuele d'Ormengo.

"Remember the evening of
January 10, 1797 in the Brignole house.

"Remember the name Renato,

"the pale face,
the black hair, the ardent eyes.

"This spinet was my mother's.
No one will touch it before you do.

"I give you the silver broach,
the gift and sole momento of my Renato.

"Put it on and wear it forever
to remember the love and revenge.

"I give you my hair,
you don't know it.

"Think how strange it is to talk to you,
as if you aren't myself.

"How beautiful
and fine is my hair.

"It goes underground
without a kiss of love,

"my hair, without a caress.

"How blonde it is!
It goes underground.

"Count d'Ormengo
is my assassin!

"The punishment returns: I'll again be
closed up in these walls.

"Remember when you listened
behind the door

"and heard
your sentence pronounced.

"Remember the lake that evening,
the boats illuminated, the songs far-off!

"In your new life
you'll encounter Renato.

"You'll recognise him because, fleeing,
he'll call you by your true name -

�Cecilia.

"Then shall have arrived
the time of vengeance.

"Remember, you'll take it on any
descendant of Count d'Ormengo.

"Here await vengeance. Here!"

Ridiculous!

Fanny! Fanny!

-Signorina, what is it?
-Nothing, thanks.

You can go, I'll call you.

Very well.

Come on, Fanny, don't make me
beg you, it's a very beautiful feast!

No, doctor,
the Marchesa would scold me.

To go in a boat
alone with a man...?

When we go, it'll be late,
the Marchesa won't see.

-Doctor, there may be a way
to be forgiven. -Which is?

Talk to the Count, obtain for
the Marchesa to leave on a trip.

Done!

So we agree, yes?

Anything for you, dear Fanny.

So, go now!

A little kiss! Just one.

No, not here, for goodness sakes!
Are you crazy?

You promised me a little kiss.

Not here. Afterward.

Go, now, the Count's waiting.

-When do we meet? -Right afterward.
-Where? -In the garden.

Go. Now.

Marchesa, it's okay!

Tomorrow we go to Milan!
Come! Come!

Cecilia, "adieu."

In the air, subjects can go,
in the lake countries,

with frequent palpitations, which then
recurring often with violence.

finish by generating
an organic ruination,

which can lead,
at times, to a precipice.

In short, doctor,
answer me clearly.

What is
my niece's sickness?

For the Marchesa this air is good
for 3 or 4 months per year, not more.

Now and then she needs distractions,
a bit of company.

The city, always the city.
-Ah, no, dear God!

Here's there's enough air and sun
to heal a dying person.

And in my head there's enough
judgment to lend some even to you!

You let yourself be manipulated
like a puppet!

The signorina, my niece,
will not leave here unless married!

Count d'Ormengo
is your assassin.

Remember when you listened
behind the door

and heard your sentence
pronounced.

Remember, you're me myself.

No! It's not true!

"Remember when you listened
behind the door

"and heard your sentence
pronounced.

"Remember the lake that night,
boats illuminated, songs far-off!"

In my opinion, as I told my colleague,
we've entered into full convalescence.

But a cerebral fever like this,
sudden and lasting 15 days,

is a form...

It can leave aftereffects
and must be cured completely.

I fully approve
Count d'Ormengo's idea.

Marina?

Marina, do you want to go
to Monte Carlo, Nice, Paris?

You can go when you want.

Naturally
I'll let you go alone.

And I entrust you to your own pride,
which is certainly not small.

Thank you,
I don't intend to leave here.

And when one speaks to you...

-Let's go, doctor.
-Good morning, signorina.

And you... think it over.

Here await vengeance! Here!

You'll take it on any descendant
of Count d'Ormengo.

Ghosts from the Past

Signore, a phrase in your novel
struck me.

Do you really believe one can
return to earth and live a second time?

Reply to me ...

at General Delivery, Milan. A friendly
hand will pass me your letter. Thanks.

To the author of "Ghosts from
the Past." Daelli Bookstore, Milan.

demonstrate that the human soul
lives more than once?

Excuse me if I don't reply at length.
Just today I leave the city
to go toward an unknown fate.

Unknown reader, farewell!
The author of "Ghosts of the Past."

Signore? Is it you who's going to
the signori of the palace?

No...

But who then?

Hey you,
come here with that lantern.

Watch out you don't burn your pants.
Umberto won't pay you for them.

Ah but it is him, it is him!
Just as they told me.

A young man, black eyes, black hair.
Give me your bag.

-Strange, but who told you?
-O, the master!

-What master?
-Of the palace. The Count.

-Well, let's go.
-The road's a bit long, but you know it, no?

-Me? This is the first time I'm here.
-But you know the Count.

-Never seen or known him.
-Great. Then what did you come here for?

To work, I think. I'm a writer.
I was called and here I am.

A writer? Ah, I understand.
Many of them come here for him.

Great scientists, great scholars.

-Did he come?
-Yes, here he is.

It's been paid, signore. All paid.

If it's for a drink, thank you, signore.

Here, take the signor's luggage.

-Be careful. You can't see.
-You have to watch out in this fog.

Watch out not to crash against
the Val Malombra rocks.

Buon viaggio, signore,
and good luck!

-Signor Silla? -Yes.
-At your service, signore. -Fine.

Welcome, signore.

The Count has retired,
as it's a bit late.

The Count has charged me to make
his excuses.

In fact I've the honor to be
the Count's secretary.

Please, signore,
make yourself comfortable.

I think the signore has need of
a bit of refreshment.

If you please signore.

Please, signore.

''Jupiter''! Of course, signore,

We shan't share bread and wine
without first knowing our names.

The Count told me yours,
but I've forgotten it.

-Corrado Silla.
-Ja, Silla, yes, yes.

So. A Roman name, like the author of
the terrible lists of proscriptions.

Ah, but I hope you'll never
write in yours

the name of Andrea Stefano Steinegge,

ex-captain of the Hungarian Hussars.

Banished from his college
for having loved wine too much,

from his family for having loved
women too much,

and from his country for having loved
liberty too much.

A pleasure, signore, a pleasure.

Please, be comfortable.

-There! -Tocai?
-Tocai this? No, no.

In a room you hear immediately

if a bottle of Tocai's uncocked.

This is simple Sassella.

It has no smell, as if it were water.

-Are you drinking?
-A little, very little.

Tisk, tisk! You have to drink, signore.

"Drink for the heart's hygiene."

"Ad esilarandum cor."

"Wine is eternal youth."

"As long as I live, I want to be 20
three or four hours a day."

-To your health, signore.
-To yours.

Pico! The boat!

Can I ask you, if it's permitted,
to whom that imperious voice belongs?

To the lady of the castle, signore.

Now she's going onto the lake
in search of ghosts.

Ghosts ?!

-Another glass?
-No thanks. I don't need to be 20.

O, but I do!

Because I'm old, alone...
and I drink

also to not think

because I love, signore,

I love, as you Italians say,
desperately,

insanely, a creature

whom I haven't seen for 12 years.

Pure.

Gentle.

My daughter, signore.

Edith is her dear name.

-And you haven't seen her for 12 years?
-No.

I don't even know where she it.

A long story, signore.

But let's drop it...
Now I don't want sad ideas

because now I'm cheerful.

Yes, I'm happy...because
you please me so much, immensely.

Evviva !

This is your room, signore.
And your luggage is already here.

-Thanks.
-Thanks to you.

I've passed a truly pleasant hour.
All from your merit.

But it won't be the last, I hope,
you'll surely not leave tomorrow.

-I'd surely like to.
-The Count won't let you.

And why shouldn't he?

It's a painting by Hayez.

However is this painting here?
Do you know who this woman is?

No, but if I'd meet her on the street,

she'd inspire great respect in me.

Where's the Count?
I have to see him, right away!

Don't trouble the sleep of the just,
signore.

Steinegge, what does the Count
want from me?

-I believe he has great affection for you.
-But he doesn't even know me.

I believe today he spoke to me
about you for at least an hour.

-What did he say to you?
-I'm not at this point.

There's still room for lots of Sassella
between this question and my answer.

But maybe it's best to go to bed.
It's late.

Your servant, signore.

Mama.

-Good morning Count.
-O come forward, come forward.

-You're Corrado Silla.
-Yes, signore.

Thanks very much for coming.

I suppose you were surprised
not to see me last evening.

-By other things, rather, because...
-Fine, fine, I'm glad.

Only asses and scoundrels
are never surprised by anything.

-And how did that rascal of a cabdriver
drive? - Very well.

-Now I'd like to know and see where
he drove you. -I wanted to know...

I don't talk business with a guest
just arrived in my house.

-But it's not about business, it's about...
-I understand your desire.

Later we'll chat. Come, come.

I don't think you're so bad off here
that you can't stay a bit more.

-Not at all. But you have to tell me...
-Of a surprise you found.

Yes, perhaps I owe you this.

But I ask you not to speak to me
about it till after breakfast.

My house is a shell where
many mollusks have lived

that have had different humors.

Good morning, dear Steinegge.

A friend who supports heroically
my detestable company.

I thought I'd be able to present
my niece,

but it seems she's not feeling good.

Please.

This is the society where I pass
many hours every day.

Here you'll work as well.

There are proper people,
there are scoundrels,

and a big majority of imbeciles
whom I've sent up there.

Poets, novelists, scholars...

I've even acquired your novel,
"Ghosts from the Past."

You haven't had good fortune, eh?

Truly I have to cheer you up
that fortune is not your friend.

Sit down.

I am an old friend
of your mother's family.

And I bear much affection for you

through memory of persons who
were quite dear to me.

The circumstances of life have kept us
far apart until today.

An evil we'll repair.

-Enough?
-Excuse me, but it's not.

So let's put aside for a moment
my friendship.

Oh !

I'm not offering you a benefit,
but asking a favor.

I know you have lots of talent,
lots of culture, that you're upright,

and I have a long work
to propose to you,

half scientific, half literary.

No, Count, I've listened to you
till now,

but I'd like to know why I found
in my room a portrait...

So you don't want us to discuss
this work?

Like this, no.

And if I were to appeal to
the good offices

of a person who has
much authority over you?

Really, Count, there's no one in the
world who has great authority over me.

I didn't say this person is alive.

Read.

Read aloud, please.

"For Corrado.

"If my memory is dear to you,if you
believe I've done anything for you,

"trust this just man
who gives you this letter.

"From the land of peace,

"where I hope God's mercy has
placed me, I bless you.

''Mama."

Mama.

I didn't want to say this.

She was a venerated friend.

I saw your mother the last time
before her wedding.

She then wrote me many letters
in which you were the only subject.

You understand now why
you found in my house that portrait.

Yes, excuse me.

It reminds me of the most virtuous
and respectable creature

who honored me with her friendship.

So do you accept to work with me?
-Thanks.

-Any mail for me.
-Nothing.

I've been here an hour in this wind
for nothing.

Mail for the palace.

One moment, there's more.
Good evening, Father.

-Father, a registered letter.
-Any mail for me? -No.

-Any mail from my son?
-No news?
-None.

Mail for the Count, for the palace,
but for Old Steinegge, nothing.

But one day it will come.
It will come.

He's our pastor.
"He holy priest...

"I old fool,
but much in agreement."

Eh, it's always the same. I wait for
news of my daughter, but there's no news.

-Giuseppe!
-Good evening, signor Steinegge.

Here's the mail for the Count.

-Who's playing so?
-Lady Marina. Now the Count's mad.

-Why? -Because he doesn't like music.
And she's doing it on purpose.

-This is for Lady Marina.
-How she plays!

She plays like a nasty devil
who loves wine.

I advise you not to believe
in her music, signore.

-Who's there?
-Me, Marchesa.

There's a letter, signora Marchesa.

What dress should I prepare?

The Marchesa's not dressing for dinner?
-No, I'm not going down.

You're not going down?
You don't even want to see him?

If I had to get married,
I'd want to see the fiance immediately.

Fiance?
Who's said this idiocy?

What do you think
the Count had him come here for?

To marry signor Steinegge?

He's dark, young,
I'd marry him right away!

At least he'd take us away from here.

-I don't like him.
-But you haven't seen him!
-Yes, I have.

Tell me, is it true he's the natural son
of the Count?

It's you who repeated it to me.
Is it true or not?

Not true?

What do I know?
The Count treats him so well.

Everyone here says
he's the son of his "sweetheart."

A d'Ormengo!

Marchesa, it's more than a year
we've been here.

What's it matter if
he's the Count's son?

Let's go back to Milano.
-Leave me in peace!

So, what do I say to the Count?

Tell him I'm still sick.

Go.

He didn't understand me.

He doesn't understand because
he doesn't know.

Maybe it's better to go back in, signore.

I'll stay here a while,
it's so beautiful.

Ah, I understand,
you're a poet, eh?

-I'll see you inside.
-I'll be with you soon. See you.

Arrivederci!

Look, by going behind a pawn
you've put yourself in trouble.

Doctor, don't waste your time on pawns,
specially when you play in my house.

-Sure you won't change your mind?
-No, Count, I think I...

My niece's maid is a silly soul,
isn't she, Doctor?

-Even a bit light-headed...
-What is it?

Count, the boat with those signori
is arriving.

O, the devil, I forgot about it!

It's the map commission.
Is the data here?

Here's the topographic map
of the Val Malombra gorge.

Don't move, stay here.
We have to talk more.

Signor Silla, stay here.

Cesare!

Good you're here.
Go to the Marchesa and tell her...

-Cesare!
-I'm coming!

Tell her to go the library
to finish the match with the doctor.

Hi, Cesare! Lord of
solitude and mystery!

-Welcome. Eviva !
-Good morning.

So, Doctor, I choose black.

Doctor?

Where's the doctor?

He's gone, signorina.

Have I the honor of speaking
with the Marchesa of Malombra?

-Corrado Silla.
-I know.

Close the shutters a little.

Please...
close the shutters a little.

Can you play?

Are you afraid?

Of winning, if anything.

Why of winning?

Because I don't know how to act
the inferior if I am not.

-I move.
-Excuse me.

-You think you're not inferior?
-I don't know how you play.

See? I know very well
how you play.

You play prudently, you're afraid
of losing, not of winning.

What are you doing now?
Why don't you bring out the queen?

-Why not attack sincerely?
-I don't want to. It's enough to defend.

And I assure you I can do it very well.
Why do you have to attack?

-Because then I finish sooner.
-That depends.
-Prove it.

It's useless for you to study.
You won't win in any case!

I've not played with you
any match but this,

and I think I won't play any more.

-Better for you.
-Neither better nor worse.

Sure, you're not here
to play against me,

you're here for deep studies with
Count Cesare, right?

-What studies are they?
-Of no interest to you, signorina.

-Very low studies, then.
-No.

-So too high for me.
-I didn't say that.

-Let's see. Mathematics?
-No.

-Metaphysics?
-No.
-Occult sciences maybe?

My uncle is a bit of a wizard,
don't you think, signor... signor...

-What's your name?
-Silla.

-Don't you think so, signora Silla?
-No, signorina.
-Very decided!

-The map people are here, I think.
-One moment!

I don't want sphinxes in front of me.
What are you writing with my uncle?

-A boring book.
-I understand.

-But what's it about?
-Political science.
-O, you're a statesman?

Somewhat less. I'm an artist.

Singing?

-The Marchesa has great wit.
-And you're very proud.

Perhaps.

By what right?

Reprisal.

So it's true you're playing
another match in the palace?

I?
I don't know what to say.

You don't know...
Your pride is poor.

And you speak of reprisals.

You don't know me, you.

There wrote me a little time ago

the anonymous author of a novel,
"Ghosts from the Past,"

saying I'm haughty ,
that I should live in a star,

that on this bourgeois planet there's
no place for me to put my feet.

I'll reply that I've found the place.

O here's my niece.

Ingegner Ferrieri.

Signor Corrado Silla,
my good friend.

Who "still has his head in chess,"
so it seems.

-I have to speak to you.
-What is it?

-I'm leaving.
-You're leaving?!

-When?
-Now.

Now?!

You think I could still sleep
under this roof?

I'm taking the first
train for Milan.

I'm leaving my bags here.
Be so good as to send them to me.

I'm leaving secretly
to avoid explanations to the Count.

Do me the favor of
giving him this letter.

I've written him that my ideas
are too different than his

to accept the collaboration
offered me.

All for this woman!
Such a person should be despised.

Do you think she hasn't offended
me too, many times?

Even tonight she spoke to me
like a servant.

She insults me because I'm poor,
she insults you for avaricious passion.

Avaricious passion?

Yes, she imagines that the Count
is putting you in his will.

How can she imagine that?

Everyone's been saying it.

Do you think that if there were a stain
on my most sacred memory,

I'd have stayed here?

O no, I never thought that.
The Count wouldn't have had me come.

A strange combination.

An unknown reader of my novel
writes me signing herself Cecilia.

I answered her. This morning
I discovered she's Cecilia.

She, however, doesn't know yet.
But that's not all. I love her.

I love this woman whom I despise
and who despises me.

But I'm a man and the instinct
of the blood must obey me.

Your hand, dear Steinegge. Perhaps
we part never to see each other again.

I'm an imbecile, signore. I don't know
what to say. But I'm your friend.

Give me your cigar case,
so we'll have a memory of each other.

Addio.

Stop! You have to listen to me, now.

What's this tone? Was it my uncle
who sent you to spy?

In what ambiance did you live till now?
Is this your nobility?

Mine's worth more.
-You're a coward to hold me by force.

Go! Go then, don't worry,
I'm leaving.

If I'd suspected that I was anything more
than a friend for you uncle,

be assured, Marchesa,
in secret I've left his house forever.

So if you'd feared
a marriage project

between Marina di Malombra and
Corrado Silla, you were deceived,

because you're incapable
of despising wealth the way I do.

Where did you discover this ridiculous
idea that I'm a suspicious heiress?

Stop, now! What are you doing?
Get out! Get out now! It's dangerous!

No, push, I'm going home.
-But you can't alone! Get out!

Take the rudder!
Turn against the wind!

You can turn. The dock's there.

You told me in the library that I didn't
know you, but I know you very well.

Watch out when you enter the dock,
I'll let go of the rudder.

How do you claim to know me?

Answer. How do you claim
to know me?

Cecilia.

In your second life
you'll meet Renato.

Renato !

You'll recognize him because, fleeing,
he'll call you by your first name: Cecilia.

It's him, Renato!

-Will the counts stop for long, Salvador?
-You know,

it's a matter
of a diplomatic-nuptual visit.

The Count went to meet the train.
I think it'll be a family wedding.

That boat is like the
Bucintoro galley of Venice,

because it's carrying
an authentic descendant of the doges,

Count Nepo Boceno Salvador.

Signor Steinegge?

The Marchesa announces that
she can't come down to receive the count

because she has a bad headache

I understand.

Eh, it begins badly, dear Don Innocenzo.

I know the Count and love him greatly,

but if this wedding with
the cousin Salvador doesn't work out...

The boat!

...if it doesn't work out,
we'll never have peace here.

What're you doing here? Where's the Marchesa?
Why isn't she here to receive the guests?

The Marchesa has a bad headache.
But Count Salvador...?

A pointless trip. In the train
there was no one. Rude people!

To hell with all the cousins
in the universe.

My niece was supposed to be here!

Giovanna, unmake the beds,
no one else is coming.

Paolo, the luncheon is cancelled.

Sorry, Don Innocenzo.
You too, Steinegge, I'm sorry.

Inform my niece that I expect her
at 6 exactly in the library.

My respects, Don Innocenzo.

I asked you to be here at 6.
It's 7:45.

I advise you that anyone doing me
the honor of living in my house

owes it to me to be civil.

It's not too heavy a rent,
and starting today you'll pay me it,

because I have the weakness to collect,
sooner or later, debts owed me.

If you don't know money,
I can give you some little lessons.

Don't answer back!

You hate me and my house,
so you ought to have one sole desire:

to leave here
as quickly as possible.

Don't reply.

You can't suppose I don't know the
outrage you made against my friend Silla.

He left by your fault.

I don't know if the word "human"

can express everything your act
inspires in me.

I shan't seek the motives,
more or less obscure, of your conduct.

But one thing is certain:

it's no longer suitable for you or me
to live together under this roof.

Today you didn't bother to be there

when my cousins
Salvador d'Ormengo were to arrive.

Well, I advise you that Count Nepo
has a great name,

a large income, and is thinking
of taking a wife.

I understand.

No make dramatic exclamations and
don't think I want to do you violence.

It's useful, in your case, to know
my cousin's dispositions.

Only this I wanted to tell you.

Thanks. And if the cousin doesn't
go for me, when must I leave?

Why "when must I"?
It'd be more loyal to say "When can I."

No. I always "can."

I don't desire to leave.
-Good God!

Speak clearly! If you don't want
to leave, what the devil do you want?

And why do you act with me
as though you were a prisoner?

What have I done to you?

You?

Nothing.

Who then? Steinegge?
What has Steinegge done to you?

-Fear.
-What do you mean, fear?
-He's so ugly.

Look, girl, if you think you can play
games with me, you're mistaken.

When I have the courtesy to ask you
what offends you in my house,

there's no need to answer like
a Parisian tit mouse,

there's need to speak seriously,
and not turn your back to me.

O no, I was watching our dear cousins
Salvador d'Ormengo who're arriving now.

Giuseppe! Steinegge!

-My lord Count, the doges are here!
-Tell the cook.
-I did.

-Giovanna, the rooms?
-Done.

Please, run to the town
and tell Don Innocenzo.

I'm on my way.

O I'm worn out!
I can't go on.

O what a trip! What a place!
O what people! Take my bag, Momolo.

I'll tell you, people, I'll tell you.

And you, pretty one, who're you?
Her maid perhaps?

Brava, brava!
But where does this blessed Cesare live?

And your mistress, where's she?
Say, what's your name?

Ah, Fanny, what a beautiful name!

Say, Fanny, that white pole back there?
Is it a friar or a cook?

O if it's a cook, tell him to give me
some broth, because I can't go on.

And you, blessed one,
you're languid, depressed...

A little, mama, a little.

Cesare! Is that you?

O how old! O how ugly!

O dear Fosca!

O, excuse me, dear Cesare,
but after so many years...

This is Nepo, my son.

It's an invasion, dear Count,
an invasion.

I really said to mama that it was ...
an abuse. That's the word!

Yes, and I replied:
"Let's abuse, what's it matter?"

My dear grapefruit. Weren't we to
arrive this morning? If I'd known�!

Yes, you can tell me about it,
meanwhile come in.

Take care of my Momola and my Catte.
They must be tired.

Catte, where is that girl? Ah!

Did you see, signor bear,
what a "darling" I brought you?

She was on the train, going to d'Omengo
Palace, and I brought her with us.

What is it? What did you ask me about,
I didn't understand anything.

Well, I'll see.
Giovanna?

How can I serve you, signorina ?

I come from Milan.
The Hungarian consul gave me directions.

Can you tell me, signore,
if Captain Andrea Steinegge lives here?

Indeed, signorina,
my good friend Steinegge lives here.

He doesn't call himself captain, but...

He was a captain, signore.
Captain of the Debrecen hussars.

I don't doubt it. I think in fact that
he spoke to me of it once.

You want to see him?

You really want to see him?

He's away now but
is coming soon.

Would you like to come in?

-He'll come in this way?
-This way.

Then, if you permit,
I'll wait for him here.

As you prefer, signorina.
Please make yourself at home.

Here's my dear darling.
It's really you, blessed one!

Come here so I can give you a kiss.
My treasure!

My dear, dear... Look, Nepo,
how dear your cousin is!

O pardon! Pardon. Excuse me.

Very beautiful!
Antique craft, exquisite.

-Wonderful!
-Yes, wonderful.

Dear cousin, truly, "enchanted"
is the word.

We had a long trip to get her,

but the prize of seeing you merits
any fatigue.

I didn't know I had a cousin
so gallant.

Oh...

Are you Captain Andrea
Steinegge from Debrecen?

I believe you have a family there.

Well, I have news.

News? News of my child?

O signorina!

O signorina...

It's nothing. I need some air.

Come now. Courage. It's nothing.
It'll pass.

Sit here.

There.

Feel better now?

What do you have to tell me?

How is my child?
Where is my Edith?

No... My child, maybe...

Speak! Speak!

Papa!

My dear Edith!

My... But is it really you?

Are you really my Edith?

-This lake is long, eccellenza.
-Blessed Venice.

Eccellenza, blessed Venice!

-Is this water!
-Pure water, eccellenza.

For three days I've been
saying so to that old woman.

That's the bucket
and this is the well.

O what a house, eccellenza!

-Do you know, eccellenza what I heard?
-Eh, you got the stocking wrong,careless.

This stocking's not bad, eh?

Eccellenza,
how many young brides would like it!

O come on...
What did you hear?

The Count, the cook told Momolo,

that the Count wanted the Marchesa
to marry the young man from Milan.

What?!

To give him money,
without anyone knowing he's his son.

Quiet!

Hi, mommy,
my cousin's waiting for me.

We're going to see the
Val Malombra gorge.

Don't worry,
don't believe the gossip.

I'll marry my cousin
because I like her

and because I've reason to believe
she likes me too.

Addio, mama.

Prudence, Nepo. We know Marina's income,
we know her dowry.

To Cesare, since I got here, I've not
been able to say more than two words.

Until I speak to him,
prudence and patience.

Mommy,
"Carry water to the Grand Canal."

Addio, Momolo.

Allow me, eccellenza, we're a bit crooked.
-What is it, Momolo?

If you want breakfast with the Count,
he's waiting for you in the dining room.

-Is he alone?
-Very, eccellenza, and in good humor.

Nepo! Nepo went out!
Call him, quickly!

No, wait!

Hi, Cesarone, hi!

-Please, signorina Edith, come here.
-Slowly, eh?

Take care. Like this.

Eccellenza! Eccellenza!

Excuse me.

What is it?

The Countess and Count are
at breakfast alone.

There's an important note.

I beg your pardon, dear cousin,
I'll rejoin you soon.

Look well at the balcony.

If the fan is black, prudence and
patience. If it's white, speak freely.

We're making a little halt.

We're going to the gorge
and shall wait for you there.

Finally!
A hard climb!

-I know you don't like me.
-You've not been nice to my father.

So I can't be affectionate
with you.

-Will you establish yourselves in Milan?
-Yes.

Write me from Milan.
No need of friendship for that.

So, the information I'm asking you for
is very simple.

They concern a man you'll meet in Milan,
a friend of your father's.

-Signor Silla?
-How do you know him?

-My father's spoken of him.
-What did he tell you?

Are you afraid of hurting me?

I don't know that word.
My father surely told me the truth.

Did he tell you
I insulted this gentleman?

And that one night he vanished?

And he didn't tell you
where he is now!

Yes, he told you!

Sorry. I think my conversation with
my father should be indifferent to you.

Tell me insread, if you want,

what do you desire from me in case
I meet this gentleman in Milan?

What do you think of 900,000 francs?

In the name of God, Cesare,
what do you mean? I don't understand.

You understand perfectly.

It's a mystery for which you lacked
neither faith nor hope,

before speaking to me.

I have nothing to say to you.

In this way one treats with taxidrivers,
not with ladies!

And thank God it's not a question of me,
but of my son,

because I wouldn't know what to do
with your 900,000 francs.

And thank God I'm old
and am prudent with my son,

because if he knew
I was involved,

he'd be capable of
sacrificing his heart

and his happiness

and everything.

Wait. Wait!

And Valgadena?

It was an infamy, Cesare,
a horrible thing.

Ah! You're a thief too!

You understand, eh?
Only Marina's consent is lacking.

The day of the wedding I'll sign
an obligation for the agreed sum.

Ah, Marchesa!
Finally.

Signorina Edith, I'll wait for you
at the exit from the gorge.

We were worried about you.

You too? So many fears.

Dear cousin, you must be tired.

Signorina Edith, I claim
to be the cavalier

during the dangerous crossing
on Caronte's boat.

Thanks.

Ladies and gentlemen,
ready for the photograph.

Dear cousin, what delicious days
I've spent here with you, dear cousin!

Really?

Why... why can't it always
be like this?

Marchesa, Count, please!
I shan't abuse your kindness.

One instant,
and I'll eternalize you!

Right! Keep that child still!
Keep still, Commendatore!

Marina, do you want to be
Countess Salvador d'Ormengo ?

I wait with complete confidence
for your answer.

My answer?
-Yes!

Come to the gorge with me.

Ready!

Freeze!

1, 2, 3, 4, 5...

Done!

You like it?
-Very beautiful.

Ah, everyone likes it
signori!

And what good trout!

Keep still, for heaven's sake!

Here's where they say
the mad woman died.

-Stop here.
-O no, I'm not stopping, for sure.

Stop.

So...

You really want to?

Why do you want to?

What a question, my God!

You're right, but I don't love you.

O my soul!

I don't love you.

Understand?

You don't love me? A moment ago
on the boat, it seemed to me...

It seemed to you, eh?

But, my God, you've let me hope.

Hope for what?

You've deceived yourself,
I don't love you!

But I accept you.

So is that enough for you?

Now, go down right now. The boat
can leave. I'm not coming with you.

I don't want you!

Go.
Aren't you happy?

Aren't you happy?

And when you get home, tell your mother
and my uncle. Immediately.

Go!

Signor Silla, someone
has asked for you.

Where?

Signor Corrado Silla?

Yes? With whom
do I have the pleasure?

It's not I who was looking for you,
but someone wants your address in Milan.

Someone? Who?

The Marchesa di Malombra.

Malombra...

Are you a friend of hers?

No, but the Marchesa told me...

One minute... Excuse me.

Maybe we've already met.
You're not Italian, are you?

No, signore, Hungarian.

Hungarian? You come from the Palace?

Do you know Captain Steinegge?

He's my father!

You?! Edith!

But you're a dear acquaintance for me.
Where is your father?

Here in Milan.
We've established ourselves in Milan.

Why didn't he come
with you now?

Actually, he doesn't know.

I'm the one who looked for you,
I knew who had work here...

The Marchesa di Malombra told me...

Excuse me.

You too, please, try to forget
what was told you.

Instead give me news of your father.
Where and when can I see him?

When you want. So then, I can give
your address to the Marchesa?

No, signorina, never.
I bed you, let's not speak of it again.

I'm so happy to have refound
dear Steinegge through you.

"Voltam, voltal, volt, voltunk,
voltatok, voltak."

Good. Now the indicative.
-"Vagyok, vagy, van.

"Vagyunk, vagtok, vannak."
-No, please. "Vagytok."

No, "vagytok."

Hungarian's not easy.

I know, but I've decided to
conquer the difficulty.

I want to understand well
what you're thinking.

I express myself badly in Italian?

No, I didn't mean that.
Maybe you can't understand...

I'm a fugitive searching for salvation
in a new land, young, sincere.

Thanks, dear.

O, dear Silla. Good evening.

See, I've fear of too much happiness.

No, we'll defend it against everything.

It's well defended, dear Steinegge.

How're the lessons going?

By the way, did you tell Signor Silla
that I got a letter from Don Innocenzo?

Ah, I forgot. A very friendly letter,
very affectionate.

They have a good season and the lake
... and he invites us.

Don Innocenzo didn't write
anything else?

No, nothing.

He didn't mention the palace?

O, a few words, yes.

He didn't mention the wedding
of Lady Marina?

Hmm, something in the letter...

What?

He says Lady Marina's marriage to Count
Salvador will be celebrated tomorrow.

Ah, tomorrow. I'm glad ... very.

And on the vigil of her wedding,
Marina still waited,

with crazy certainty,
for Silla's return.

Marchesa? During the honeymoon,
what do I do?

Do I stay in Milan or go immediately
to Venice with the countess and Catte?

Be quick.
-I'm being quick, I am.

I like the countess a lot,
she's really dear to me.

She's always happy, blessed.
Not like the count.

But he too wasn't happy today.

Be quick.

It is true in Venice
there're no carriages?

But it'll always be better than here,
won't it?

What's that? They're ringing?

They're ringing to celebrate, Marchesa,
your wedding.

At night?

It's local custom, Giovanna says.

What time is?
-I'll look now.

10:30.
-Give me the clock.

Put it here.

Close the window,
I can't stand those bells!

No, leave them open.

Now that you're finished,
you can go.

Do you want me
to undress you?

No, I'll do it.

Are you mad at me?
-No, I'm not mad.

But leave.

Good night, Marchesa.
And best wishes for tomorrow.

Renato...

Where's signor Silla?

He hasn't come.
-He hasn't?! He's not down there?

You've been to the station?

It's not possible!
You didn't see him!

I tell you I did, signorina. I watched
carefully, no one got off the train.

I swear, I swear, signorina.
Don't look at me like that.

It doesn't matter.
He'll come.

Did you see if there's still light
from the Count's window?

No, everyone's sleeping.

Okay, you go sleep too. You're tired.

Did I hurt you?
I'm sorry.

No, signorina, I don't mind being
hurt by you.

The moment of revenge
has come.

Conte d'Ormengo
is your assassin.

Who is it?

Let's go this way,
toward the ramparts.

How beautiful it is. It seems like
it's being reborn, doesn't it?

Are you thinking about why I asked
for news in Don Innocenzo's letter?

Do you remember the day
you came to the highschool?

It's such a comfort for me today not
to feel sorrow, I feel cured.

Consoling? It's sad to be cured
of a such a big feeling, as you say.

Like these plants are cured from winter,
they forget the snow,

and it's all finished.

Excuse me, signorina Edith,
perhaps you don't...

I'm not cured by the power of the sun,
by light, by forgetting...

I wanted to be cured.
It wasn't a big feeling.

I don't care about that lady
and never have.

What? You didn't care about her?

No, never.
I never talk about her with anyone.

But it happens to me, in the state
of mind I force myself to maintain,

by working, studying,

to hear sinister voices, ever more...

ever more deep, in some mud
that extinguishes thought.

Forgive me, Edith, do I bore you
talking so much about myself?

But I'd never have believed things
like this were possible.

I know. For these things
you have too pure a soul.

Some time ago I wrote an anonymous
novel, "Ghosts from the Past."

One can read it?
-You will.

Shortly before leaving for the palace,
I received a letter,

addressed to me as author
of this novel,

signed "Cecilia."

It was a passionate letter, sarcastic.
He told you...

...Everything that happened,
your father witnessed,

and suffered from it like me.

I didn't care for her and
she demonstrated her contempt for me.

One day she insulted me,
your father would have told you.

One night I decided to leave,
I met her by chance on the lake in a boat.

A storm came,
I had to take her back home.

I won't tell you how or why,
but I was tempted no longer to leave.

It took all my pride,
but I've won.

Only today I realise I've won, Edith.

To have near me your soul,
what courage it gives me!

It's late, where's papa?

Edith, I beg you, respond to me.

Maybe you'll think badly of me,
but I'm afraid.

I'm afraid this is a task
too difficult for me.

I'm just a poor girl,
very simple

Are you quite certain
of what you feel?

Are you certain you're not mistaken?

An error would be terrible,
you know?

I feel I wouldn't hold up.

Edith, you asked me if I'm certain
I'm not making a mistake,

if I'm sure what I feel.

I swear to you, Edith, that
I'll never see that lady again.

Here's papa. Excuse me,
we'll talk later.

Finally I've found you.
You'd disappeared.

I've been going up and down, dear Silla.
Were you here?

Great! Now we have to go,
it's latei.

So we'll see each other soon,
my friend.

When is the next lesson?
Tomorrow or the day after?

-The day after, I think.
-Till then.

Signor Silla?

Our doorman had this telegram
for you.

From someone, evidently, who doesn't
know your address.

Count Cesare gravely ill
desires you to come to the palace.

Who sent the telegram?

Don Innocenzo.
One more word, Edith.

Why don't you want us to marry?

If you tell me yes,
I'll leave at peace and be safe.

Signor Silla, I don't believe
your salvation depends on me.

There's another woman who loves you.

But I don't love her,
believe me!

I believe you, I believe you.

And so?

You don't know yourself deeply.

Excuse me, Signor Silla,
my papa's waiting for me.

I have to go up.

Edith!

Count Cesare gravely ill
desires you to come to the palace.

Marina di Malombra begs you
come immediately. Cecilia

What is it?

The telegram says the Count's ill.

They've called Signor Silla
to the palace.

Edith, Edith,
for goodness sake, what's wrong?

I fear I was wrong.
Who knows, now he'll...

We must go to Don Innocenzo, papa.

Yes, certainly, next week.

No, papa, tomorrow. Quickly, quickly!

Count d'Ormengo's illness is simple.
It's a right hemiplegia.

The patient can revive or die
from this first attack, as God wills.

-The cause of illness is obscure.
-You're not leaving right away, father?

-I don't know.
-They said you wanted to go right away.

-Ah, they said!
-So now you're not leaving.
-I don't know.

What's this stuff?
What kind of friar do you take me for?

Bring me some bread
and a glass of wine.

Signore! Signor Silla!
How good of you to come.

You see it was Providence that
"struck him in his heart."

Come see him.
Can you come, Father Tosi?

No, the Count should be left in quiet.
-In quiet, for goodness sake.

Do you know the patient?

Well, if you like not knowing him
anymore and not being recognized,

then go.

Giovanninetta, accompany the gentleman.

I think it's imprudent. -If it were
imprudent I wouldn't have permitted it.

What a character you are!
There's no point lowering your eyes.

You may be a "top" professor,
but we also know some "tops."

We know Namias, in Venice, and I can say
that he at least has more civility.

Signora, Father Tosi
isn't a "top,"

and he's done two
stupid things in his life.

He wanted to be a doctor
and he wanted to be a friar.

But I tell you, if he'd become
police commissioner,

he'd have been great.

-Police?
-Giorgio!

Yes, signori, I go the short way
and call things by their name.

My duty is to inform you that
Count d'Ormengo has been assassinated.

-God, God, God!
-Impossible!
-You should be more prudent, father.

O holy God, what horrible words,
after breakfast.

I have the habit of saying the truth
even after breakfast.

Go on.

I don't mean that weapons or poisons
were used,

I say assassinated because I'm sure
that at the origin of this evil

is someone's violent action.

This is absurd!
-You're absurd.

If I have heart disease,

the people I love can kill me
with one word,

without poisons or weapons.

I say the patient was hit with apoplexy
during a violent emotion.

What? How? In God's name, how?

Before continuing...

O, I know Commendatore Vezza well,
an old friend of the Count's.

But this gentleman?

Giorgio Mirovic, notary of the Salvador
family, summoned for the wedding.

We are ... we were the witnesses.

All the family's here?

No, the Marchesa's missing.

The Marchesa, my promised bride,
is indisposed.

And what's the Marchesa's name?
-Marchesina Crusnelli di Malombra.

Her name, her baptismal name.
-Marchesina Marina.

And she has no other name?
Yes, Marina Vittoria, what's it matter?

It matters, Count,
it matters very much.

What are the names of the female
house servants? Besides Giovanna.

Catte, at the moment.
-Fanny!

So there's no woman in the house
named Cecilia.

Well, I'm convinced that
the other night, a woman,

a...Cecilia, entered the room
of Count Cesare,

and frightened him,
and agitated him to death.

That's the bed.
The Count was found here, on the floor.

All the details of the scene.
A lamp overturned,

a cup, from the bedside table,
thrown from the bed and in fragments,

proving that the Count wasn't
surprised by an ailment,

but assaulted while sleeping
by someone,

with whom he had
a violent discussion,

and against whom he reacted
as he could.

By who?!

An hour ago there was an improvement
in the patient's condition.

I took immediate advantage
of it to question him.

I managed to get from his lips
one sound.

I think I understood: family.
I asked him, "Family"?

The patient gestured no, and
after a supreme effort managed to say,

"Cecilia."

Then,
I showed him this.

I wish you could have seen how
the Count's eyes opened wide,

how he looked at me,

the expression that came over
the disfigured face of the man.

Would you do me the favor of seeing
if you know whom this belongs to?

I don't recognize it.

Signora Fosca can say something.

The countess, you mean!
She for sure doesn't recognize it.

I can take a look at it.

Never saw it.

Where'd you find it?

In the Count's closed fist.

Observe there's a shred of lace
attached to it.

It's clear this was separated by force
from the clothing.

Please, give it back to
the person it belongs to.

Thanks!
So you know whom it belongs to.

I have the honor to assure you, Father,

that if you mean to insinuate illicit
and inappropriate suspicions

against a lady about to belong to me,
you'd badly deceived.

You offend the people
you're talking to.

You don't know
what you're saying, dear sir.

I am accustomed to seek truth,
always!

And I don't much care if I offend
a signora, her relations, her friends,

when inbetween are the interests
of a sick person I'm helping.

Moreover, you now know the facts.

And I warn you that
if the patient recovers,

a similar emotion will kill
him in one stroke.

There, Father Tosi has done his duty
and is leaving.

It's understood the father won't
discuss this outside of here, yes?

That's the first counsel of this sort
I've been given and I do not accept it.

Good evening, everyone.

And he'll even touch me to pay him.

How'd it get into the doctors' heads
to ask the opinion of a creep?

If I'd known, I'd have called
Namias, from Venice.

Well, I guess in these conditions
we shan't be discussing the wedding.

I shan't disturb you further.

No, Giorgio, don't go!

Don't leave me alone!

But I must, I've business waiting
in Venice.

And that other one, Silla,
why'd he come here? Who called him?

Because, you know, Sulla's the one
we feared regarding the inheritance.

You who join so much prudence with
so much honesty

certainly don't want to criticize me
if I tell you that another big affair

is imposed on us at this moment.

I'm disinterested, I maintain, but...

Bravo! I see you understand me.
The inheritance, good heavens!
The obligation.

I pray heaven will "conserve" Cesare
for me for many years,

but if a misfortune occurs now...

O Giorgio! Giorgio!
-Calm, lady, calm.

Sit down and we'll see now.

You sit down too, blessed by God.

O, where's that document?
Ah, here it is. How funny.

Let's see what it says.

It's clear.

"The obligation will be signed
together with the marriage contract."

Yes, the marriage.

What happens if the Count dies
and there's no will?

It's all over, finished!

Calm, my sir, calm.

Calm down, Nepo.

Ah, ah, ah...

Is the curate in?

Sorry, two foreigners have
come from Milan.

Tell him it's very urgent.
-Wait here a minute. Sit down.

Very well, thanks.

Father, there's a gentleman
here from the palace.

Good evening, Father.
-Good evening. News?

Still the same. Maybe a slight
improvement. I'm here for this.

The Count, in a lucid moment,

has said his health ought not obstruct
the happiness of his niece and nephew.

He expressed desire for the marriage
to be celebrated soon.

Which is what we all wish.

I'm at your disposition.

So, Don Innocenzo,
I'm going to the palace.

News of the Count?

Eh...
Till tonight. At midnight, Father.

Everything's ready to celebrate the rite.
Tonight, in the palace chapel.

Okay, I'll come.

Ah, thank you, thank you.
We'll count on you, then. My respects.

We were saying...

Signor Silla has manifested
an inclination for you,

and you?

I'm afraid that I've not been
sincere enough with him,

that I've hid too much
my feelings for him.

Now you know everything.

But, excuse me,
why did you do this?

Signor Silla is a gentleman,
very affectionate toward your papa.

And if you really...
Why?

Because I was afraid.

Look, speak to me frankly.

Now that you know it wasn't I
who sent the telegram,

are you convinced there's something
between Signor Silla and Lady Marina?

Till yesterday I wasn't sure.
But today I think there is.

How? How can there be?

I fear it's so.

I have this presentiment.

You fear it is so...

Last night you didn't reply
when Signor Silla

said you could be
his salvation.

No, signore.
-What?

No, I didn't reply.

So, reply right now.

Tell him the truth, tell him you love him.
It's your duty.

My duty will be to judge
if and when

the letter should be delivered.

In my opinions, things are proceeding
in a rather satisfying way.

His right leg has recovered movement
and his arm isn't inert.

In intelligence and speech,
progress is less apparent,

but one can, indeed, one must
believe that time will achieve much -

if not complete recovery,
the use of...

Good evening.

Do go on, doctor.
-Come, dear, sit here.

So, at least use of his legs
and maybe in part of his arm.

I say, in part
he can recuperate.

And also his intelligence,
but for the intelligence it's difficult.

Very difficult.

I'd like to say
a word to Signor Silla.

Not here, but stay.

I need air.

Will you come out to the garden,
Signor Silla?

The garden? In this cold?
I don't think...

With this humidity?
Better on the balcony.

But Marina, my dear,
at least take your shawl.

It's cold.

Cecilia...

O, yes, call me that always.

Do you remember?

Tell me, do you remember?

Cecilia, there's no more world for me.
Relatives, friends, past, future...

Nothing. You alone. Alone!

No, not now.
When did you remember?

Always... Give me this hand,
this infinite sweetness.

I think I'm dying.
I want to speak but can't explain.

No... Later.

Tonight at 11,
on the stairs to the dock.

They're spying on us. Come,
follow me, and at the door leave me.

Has Signor Silla been outside long?

I don't know.

Why "Renato" ?

You don't remember the name? Then
it's not true what you told me tonight.

It's not true?

And you?

O God! How much!

But you don't remember everything?

Everything! Everything!

O, thank God!

No, not now.

I defy them.

I defied them tonight, too.

They don't understand anything.

At midnight they want me
to marry Count Salvador.

Here, all your memories,
the evening of January 10.

I don't understand.

The night of January 10,
in the Brignole house.

The broach you gave me.
Didn't you tell me you remember?

I know nothing,
I remember nothing.

I only know that this moment
had to come.

But think, think! Why did you call me
Cecilia that first night?

Because I discovered
you're the Cecilia of the letters.

Certainly, I too discovered it
...afterward.

But this is destiny too.
I have to find you again.

Wait.

I'll tell you a secret
which concerns you too.

You don't know who I am.

You remember that night
on the balcony,

the lady you accused,
for whom you marked me.

Don't you remember?

I'm her.

You?!

Then you believe? You believe me?

What are you saying?

You think I'm insane.

Go away!
No, no, listen. Come here.

Look. Read, read.

But you remember this?

All of it, all of it.

Read here. Read out loud.

"Remember, you are myself.

"Remember, in your second life,
you'll meet Renato.

"You'll recognize him because, fleeing,
he'll call you by your real name: Cecilia.

"Remember, Count d'Ormengo..."

And you don't believe,
but I forgive you because I love you.

And I loved you immediately, you know?

Immediately, the moment I saw you
the first time. But I didn't want to.

The Salvadors are coming for me. You
know they're related to the d'Ormengos.

So goodbye. I made him see
the revenge that came by itself.

I wanted to marry him, and then
to trample on him, for love of you.

But you didn't come back.

The night before the wedding
I understood was the moment of revenge.

I saw what I had to do.

I went there
and talked to him.

The day after I sent you a telegram,
and then you...

Marchesa! Quick!
The Count's bad!

He's dying, you have to be quick.

Ice! Ice!

Ah! Holy Madonna,
I'm not going!

Stupid!

The other night I went to his room
to revenge me, at this same hour.

I didn't tell you
that I wounded him deadly.

O God, what light!
Who left the lamp on?

Give me the shawl.

Jesus, Mary!
Jesus, Mary!

It's the end...

Count Cesare !

In the Lord's name,
take her out of here!

Cecilia is here with her lover...

Get out of here!

...to see you die!
To see you die!

Count Cesare couldn't hear those words,
he sleeps in peace.

1:35.

Doctor! Doctor!
Please! Come quick!

Out of here, all of you!

Out, out, out, out.

Out.

O dear Commendatore,

how terrible!

O Lord!

Either pray or get out!

I'm going.

Please continue.

Don't leave him alone with me!

That's for me!

It should be read immediately. I want
to know where I am, in whose house!

Edith...

Too late.

"I leave to Captain Andrea Steinegge
in recognition of friendship.

"I leave to Giovanna Ortelli,
devoted maid, an annuity.

"I leave to Silla, for the friendship
that unites me to his family,

"the portrait of his mother
and a small annuity of 250 lire."

O, these are the bequests.

"For universal inheritance of
all my goods, movable and immovable,

"I designate

"the Major Hospital of Novara.

"Executor of my will:
my dear friend Napoleone Vezza."

Let go, now!
Let's go, Nepo, let's go!

Let's go...

Have you by chance seen Signor Silla?

We went by
a short time ago.

Did he take the boat, maybe?

No, he went back inside.

But the poor Count instructed
he doesn't want flowers.

They're not for him, but for Lady Marina
who ordered them for the dinner.

What dinner?

Didn't the cook tell you
she ordered the dinner?

No!

Signorina Fanny!
-Wait.

And you know where we have
to serve the dinner?

No.
-The balcony!

But I think, with this wind...

No, no, I'll talk to
Professor Binda.

This dinner will not happen.

Ah, you're here.
I was looking for you.

Here one surprise follows another.
Do you know about this dinner?

Eh, yes.

This morning the Marchesa
asked to talk with me.

She asked first if you were still here,

then she repeated the speeches
of her delirium, the whole event.

Sorry, for me she's still sick,
very sick.

She worse now than last night,
in my opinion.

You can see it more in her mouth
than in her eyes.

But there's one thing she talked about
coldly, with amazing calm.

"For eight days," she said, "I haven't
been responsible for my actions.

"A dead person gave me communications
that confused my brain."

"These communications," she said,
"Signor Silla knows about them."

That's true.

-Eh?!
-That's true.

-Spiritualism!
-No. But please go on.

Well, she claims she's been living
through a sort of somnambulism

during which she's done
inexplicable things she's regretful for.

And she declares ...
she feels indifference for you.

In fact, she even said...,
repugnance.

If she acted otherwise with you,
it has an hallucination,

and she hopes to persuade
Count Nepo Salvador of all of this.

As for you, she asks you to leave
as soon as possible.

Which, frankly, appears to me
an idea full of good sense.

That I leave. But what are you thinking?
That Count Salvador may come back?

That he'll want to take a wife
who's sick in the head? Disinherited!

Can I abandon her, now?

To return to the world
as if it were nothing,

because she's come out of delirium
and tells me, "Go away"?

You, Commendatore,
advise me to do this?

Not I, Signor Silla, give you this advice,
but the Marchesa herself.

The Marchesa herself, with great
good sense, asks you to leave quickly.

On your honor, Commendatore,
you think this advice is good?

On my honor, I think it the only choice.

Moreover, you can ascertain
Lady Marina's dispositions

by talking with her directly.

-She's waiting for you.
-Waiting for me?

Good morning.

Vezza spoke to you?

I'd have left immediately,
Marchesa, if ...

I know. I know, but...

Have you understood
I was having hallucinations?

And you believe it?

Fine.

Leaving's fine, but not enough.

Don't you feel duty bound
to make other sacrifices for me?

I'm at your orders, Marchesa,
any sacrifice.

Then you'll also be disposed
to write to Count Salvador?

To Count Salvador?
And what am I to write him?

That you're leaving here forever.

Don't ever try to see me again.

Is this enough for you?

How good you are.

With Count Salvador I can be.

I put myself at his disposition,
but he hasn't been seen.

You hate him?

I? No.

But last night you did hate him.
Last night at 11.

Marchesa,
there was an hallucination - mine.

Then I forgive you everything.
The affair is finished.

The Marches desires nothing more
of me?

Thanks. Nothing.

We'll see one another later
at dinner, right?

Because you're eating here,
I ask you to.

You know?

Destroyed!

For the best.

Here we are.

May God send us good!

I've drafted the telegram
to the relatives like this:

"For express medical wishes,
and to remove myself from any worry,

"I warn that health of Marina demands
prompt removal from this house."

-Say "very prompt"!
-Okay.
-And also add...

Gentlemen, good evening.

Where's Signor Silla?

He's gone, isn't he?

No, no, he's here,
but doesn't feel good.

He sends his excuses, he can't dine.
He's in the library, writing.

Accept his excuses.

Your word that he's in the library?

My word.

Fine. I'll see later,
without being called.

Otherwise, dear Vezza, inside me is
a dark time, sad.

Tell me, Doctor,
isn't sadness an illness?

I tried to get rid of it, that
the reason for this dinner. Let's eat.

Dear Vezza...
And you, Doctor, on my right.

Taste this wine, please.

Don't you notice a strange flavor?

In fact, there is something unusual.

Suppose that for certain reason,
I decided...

You know...

This life is so vile!

Suppose that for certain reasons
of my own I thought of taking with me

some witty friends
on a trip too long.

How quickly you believe me!

Drink! Drink!

Bravo. You'll be inspired
for a difficult response.

How respond to the sphinx!

Sphinx, yes,
close to becoming stone.

Or even colder!

What a first reply!
It will say everything!

-Calm, calm.
-Air! Air!

Let go of me!

Do you believe that the human soul
can live more than once on Earth?

Answer!

Calm, calm, Marchesa.

Yes, it can.

70 years ago, the father
of that dead man closed up here,

like a rabid wolf,

Cecilia, his first wife.

He made her die, fiber by fiber.

But no. Why do you say
these things?

Calm down, come away with me,
you need rest, tranquility.

Let go of me!

Signor Silla doesn't come because
he knows the history.

But he doesn't know it all.
I want to tell him!

The nurse, the night nurse.

Come on, Marchesa, yes, you're right,
but be good and come away.

Don't say these things
that make you ill.

Yes, let's go away,
let's go to the library.

Wouldn't your room be better?

No, the library.

Buon viaggio.

Hold her!

Hold her!

Force open the door.

Killed. Right through the heart,
nothing to do.

Watch out, she has the revolver.

Go in, for God's sake.

The boat!
-Ring the bell!

Lady Marina!

Stop her!
Stop her, for heaven's sake!

-Marchesa!
-Stop her!

-Stop the boat!

Marchesa, the big boat!

The big boat, quick quick!

-The big boat!
-It's not here!

She sent it away before dinner!

To town, go!
A boat and men!

My God, where's she going?
-To the gorge!

To the Val Malombra gorge!
Like the other woman!

Not to be able to defend himself,
when everyone accuses him.

They insult him and he can't say
a word in defense.

Now I'll forget him, abandon him,
even with the thought.

But as long as I'm alive,

I hope I'll know him
in the "juster world" where he is.

I wish you'd known him as I did.

He had real feeling, delicate.

And it was his misfortune, because as
such he couldn't succeed in the world.

Nor be understood by normal people.

And so closed up in himself,
in his bitterness.

He'll rest here.

What peace!

Doesn't it seem to you that
for everyone, for everyone...

...there's hope?