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THE CONVENT

Who is it?

Yes, is this the way
into the monastery?

Yes, it is.
Is that Professor Padovic?

- Yes.
- Just a moment.

You who enter this convent
neither hear nor see nor speak

You were wrong, my dear...

- this is not it.
- I know, I know.

Let's go.

- Baltar.
- I'm Michael Padovic. Nice to meet you.

This is my wife, Helene.

Pleased to meet you.

I'm glad you could come.

You're very kind.

I'm the guardian
of the monastery.

My name is Baltar.

Baltar.

At your service, madame.

If you won't mind
following my car?

Yes, with pleasure.

This is Berta, the housekeeper.

At your service, madame.

And this is my trusted
assistant Baltazar.

Mr. Padovic would like you to show
him the caves of the first monks.

Oh, I beg your pardon. I was asking him
to show you the caves

where the first monks
established theirselves...

tomorrow.

That... that would
be interesting,

but we don't want
to cause you any trouble.

It's no trouble.

- Of course not.
- Of course not.

Of course not.

And madame too, of course.

But now I'm sure
you need some rest.

Shall I show you
to your rooms?

I'm sure, Professor,

that there is
a particular purpose

to your journey.

Research.

That's right. I'm looking
for some documents.

They're absolutely essential
for my research.

- Essential.
- Darling.

He wants to be
immortalized.

You know how important
this work is.

More important
than I am?

Darling. My wife pretends
not to understand,

but I believe your archives
might contain documents

that would help establish
Shakespeare's true identity.

He was a Spaniard...
you know, not English at all.

The evidence for my thesis
lies in a marriage contract

between Isabel of Aviz
and Philip of Burgundy.

My husband thinks that Shakespeare
was of Spanish-Jewish origin.

He believes his parents fled
the Inquisition,

first to Portugal,
then to Florence,

and that is why we're here.

How very fortunate for us.

It gives us the benefit
of your presence.

Really?

I have an idea.

What is that, Mr. Baltar?

Our new curator,
Ms. Piedade...

she already knows the archives
far better than anyone else.

- She could help you.
- Hmm, very good, Mr. Baltar.

- What do you think?
- Me?

You.

I think it's a very good idea.

I'll have your bags
brought along.

Thank you very much.

Well, this is where
the sacred space begins.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I was saying,

this is where
the sacred space begins.

Here an Englishman
took refuge.

Oh, yes, Hildebrand
the merchant,

in the 13th century, when...
when his ship was wrecked.

That's right.
Do you know the story?

Yes,

he's done his homework
all right.

There was a statue of Our Lady
onboard, wasn't there, Michael?

Yes, and he... he went down
into his cabin where the statue was

to beg for protection

and then when he reappeared
on the deck,

there was a bright light shining
from the top of the mountain.

Up there.

Yes. And then he went back
down into the cabin

to give thanks for the miracle,

but the statue was gone,

though the light
was still shining.

Still there, shining bright.

And then the story
goes that, uh...

at dawn the sailors
climbed up the mountain

and the statue was
in the exact spot

where the light had been.

The first monks
established their cells...

in these caves.

They lived like animals,

with nothing but their faith

to sustenance.

Their habits were short,

the winter was cold,

all they had for protection
was a hook.

They battled
against the elements

and they fought hunger

with prayers.

Idiots.

Sir, what did you say?

Oh, I was saying,
I was saying, uh...

such holy men!

Now let's visit the hermitage
of remembrance.

So here we are

...at the chapel of Our Lady
of Remembrance.

There used to be

a very beautiful and historical
statue of the Virgin Mary here.

The locals claim

that the monks wanted to put it
in the convent's main church...

but that each time
it was put there,

it would disappear,
as if by magic,

to be found again here
in its original habitat.

- Is it possible to see it?
- Unfortunately not.

It was stolen
a long time ago.

I say "unfortunately" because
it was said to be of great beauty.

It was called
"The Blonde Madonna."

Blonde, just like me.

I've never seen it.

Look! Nothing!

No saints, no tiles.

After the 25th April revolution,

vandals came
and stripped the place bare.

They even ripped
the tiles off the wall.

That's all that's left.

I can't believe it.

Unbelievable.

This is...

the last of the chapels.

Piedade...

this is Professor
Michael Padovic.

With Piedade's
invaluable assistance,

you'll discover here,
Professor,

wisdom comparable to...

Comparable to what?

To what indeed?

To knowledge of God!

Yes... comparable only
to the knowledge of God.

Knowledge of good and evil.

You will find here
everything you need

for your supremely ambitious
project, Professor.

I wouldn't go that far.

Perhaps not...

not for now,
at any rate.

I am quite serious, sir.
Don't think that my notion

that the English playwright may be
of Spanish-Jewish origin

is based on fantasy.

On the contrary,
it's based on fact.

The marriage contract of Isabel of Aviz
was witnessed by three people,

all of whom had
Florentine-sounding names.

One was called
Heitore Saquespi.

Now, allowing for a variation
in phonetic practices,

"Saquespi" could easily be
Jacques Perez

or Jacques Pires.

Fine start, Professor.

You have at your disposal

not only all the weapons
we can provide here,

but also
our lovely Piedade.

Helene?

Helene?

This Helene is
a mysterious woman.

And Piedade no less.

Both are way off
all the astral patterns.

Hadn't you told me
they were Gemini?

Well, they seemed to be,

but they refuse to give us
more details... hour, birthplace.

All that is very enigmatic
about them.

I don't know.
There even seems to be

a strange overlap
of astrological charts.

Um, I don't know.
Piedade, Helene...

Helene is very dangerous.

Very dangerous.

What about Baltar?
What do you tell me about Baltar?

He shouldn't trust Helene.

He's under her spell...

completely
under her spell.

He's being completely
manipulated.

And, strange as it may seem,

that devilish Baltar...
that dissimulator...

he does not even
realize it.

Did you know the old monks' bodies
have been buried here?

And their souls burn like logs
in our bonfires.

Poor friars... they wanted to deprive
themselves of the good things

simply to bring suffering
upon their own sad lives.

But desire, my dear... desire is
always stronger than any virtue.

Satan, "ora pro nobis"!

- Piedade... innocent?
- I think so.

Don't you know she was
once married and unhappy?

She also has a daughter who studies
in England, you know?

No, I didn't know any of that.
Who told you about it?

- Baltar did.
- Baltar?

Poor thing... she surrenders
so deeply into angelical sleep.

She's so beautiful,

so innocent.

These days one does not
see innocent young women.

Berta, open it.

Oh, my little devil,
you can't resist my fire.

- I can't, Berta.
- Come in, my dear. Come in.

You're my angel, Berta.

Why did you bring me here?

Just look!
The wonder of it!

The whole world
at your feet.

Don't you see, Professor,
that the glory of your discovery

will make you immortal?

All nature is born to die...
only the spirit remains,

so wise men say.

That's what I call thought.

Only men can think
like that...

women can't.

Woman is a transfiguration
of man's conscience,

but she cannot aspire
to greatness.

Man alone is godlike.

You talk like the devil.

I'm a humble servant,
nothing else.

At your service, Professor.

Immortality...

immortal, did you say?

Of course.

Isn't that what you want?

Isn't that what every man
worthy of the name

aspires to?

It is easier to stimulate
the pleasurable activity of the brain

by making love
or drinking wine

or losing oneself
in equivocal affairs of the heart

than to attain
the true pleasures of creativity.

According to Nietzsche, anyway.

And it must be said
that it is true for most of us.

Well, come now,
Professor,

a man of genius like yourself
can hardly settle for so little.

You cannot reject
the pleasures of anxiety

nor the pleasures
of suffering

as you enter a world
of darkness, mother of light,

to the full extent
of your scientific

and creative powers.

Suffering as I enter
into darkness,

mother of light?

I like this statue
of Mary Magdalene.

I like the way
it is damaged.

It ought to be restored.
It's a terrible shame.

Yes, of course, it should.

"The nature of you...

doubtful gentlemen...

nomenclature may help
to recognize."

I have no German, but you seem
to speak it reasonably well.

Thank you, Professor.

What a strange creature.

Do you know who
you remind me of?

Penelope.

Penelope?

Odysseus's faithful wife,
who looked after his interests

as conscientiously
as you look after mine.

I'm only doing my duty.

I enjoy it.

I do it willingly.

I'm returning the trust
you have placed in me, that's all.

"And that's plainly
what we mean

when we call you
God's enemies,

seducers, liars.

Well..."

Why do you read me
Goethe's Faust now?

I found this book
among these papers.

Strange, is it not?
Listen.

"'Who are you? '

Mephistopheles replies,

'Part of that force
which sometimes encourages evil

and sometimes acts
for the good'.

Faust says,
'What is this mystery? '

Mephisto replies,

'I'm the spirit
that always denies...

...and rightly so, for everything
is worthy of destruction.

It would better
if nothing existed.

So everything you call sin,

destruction,

everything, in short,
which is considered evil,

that is my element.'

Faust answers,

'You say you are a part,

but I see you standing whole
before me.'

Mephisto says...

'I have told you
my modest truth.

If man,

that tiny universe
of folly,

usually considers himself
to be whole,

I know I'm a part
of that part which existed

at the beginning
of everything,

a part of that darkness

which gave birth
to proud light

which now quarrels

with the night
that mothered it."'

It's lovely,
this bit of Faust.

I know it by heart.

I hope I'm not
interrupting.

You've been here for days
and here you are, still hard at it.

There's no end
to research, I know,

but perhaps it's time
our dear professor had some rest.

Don't you think so, Piedade?

Of course.
Yes, of course.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

Good morning, Mr. Baltar. It's been
a long time since we saw you here.

- Too much work at the convent.
- I'm sure that is the case. I am sure.

How's the fishing?

It's very well... a lot of fish.
Fish don't go away.

"Why, now your noble plan
is plain:

Your powers
of grand annihilation fail

and so you traffic
on a smaller scale."

Who is "you"?

Neither him nor me,

just something Faust says
to Mephisto.

And what does he answer?

Who? Mephisto?

Yes, Mephistopheles.

He answers:

"A modest truth do I declare."

The truth?

What truth?

"Part of the Darkness
that gave birth to Light,

The haughty Light that now with Mother
Night disputes her ancient rank."

How come you're back
so soon?

Did you feel "saudades"?

"Saudade"?

Yes.

Did you get homesick?

Homesick?
What, for you?

No, not for me...
for your work.

What about you?
Did you miss me?

Yes, I was waiting...

waiting to start work.

I wish you weren't so pure.
It's cruel.

Cruel?

Oh Lord.

What you've told me is quite odd...

but what I'm seeing now
surprises me even more.

Everything here stirs within us
infernal reminiscences.

Indeed.

One could even envision
diabolical things.

Actually, we are standing in one
of Lucifer's abandoned furnaces.

We are?

Then what surprises me
the most is this.

The chapel?

Yes. A chapel for the devil?

It's a little damaged...

and completely abandoned.

All that remains is
this rather pious visual.

Interesting fresco.

How about these steps?
What do they lead to?

It is said that beautiful sinners,

even virtuous queens,
princesses and noblewomen

tempted by the devil
used to secretly come down here...

Iooking for new and unknown
erotic pleasures.

Pleasures as delicious
as those I could give you.

You are Mephistopheles indeed.

Please!

Stop!

It's an untamable force.

I'm sorry, Helene.

I'm throwing myself
at your feet.

I love you.

Stand up, Baltar.

I'm a sensitive woman.
Very sensitive.

And you are
a very attractive man.

Helene...

Remember you promised
to tell me the secret of the forest.

I'm very curious,
you know?

The Jurassic Forest?

The one you call
the "Witches' Garden."

Anything I'll do for you
will always seem too small.

All this makes me think of
is a gigantic vulva.

Lucifer's lair.

I like to hear you
talk like a witch.

Was it you who left
this translation of "Faust" here?

I hope you enjoy it.

Don't you say anything,
Professor?

It's a present
I bought for you.

Thank you,
I appreciate it.

As you have no German,
after the other day,

I thought you might enjoy
rereading Faust, so...

Is that why
you're in such a good mood?

Oh no, Michael...

Professor, I mean...
Professor Padovic.

I'm most embarrassed. I'm not sure
I should be telling you this.

Go ahead,
you can trust me.

I had a wonderful dream
last night.

There was someone
and they...

Someone?
What do you mean? A man?

Oh no, an angel.

- An angel?
- Yes, an angel.

It was so lifelike.

Tell me about your dream.

It was beautiful.
I know you won't believe this,

but...

I can see him now.

An angel descended
and touched me.

He pierced my entrails
with an arrow.

My whole body shuddered

and I fainted...

bright lights
through my mind,

like a sun bursting
in front of my eyes.

It was utterly delightful.

I can't begin to describe
how wonderful it was.

When I woke up,
it was morning.

There was a sea mist

and the sun was shining.

It's strange...

I felt something similar
last night.

It was...

painful at first

and then it became
pure pleasure.

It was...

Yes. When I came to,
I was in the corridor.

Look at these branches.

They're gigantic arms.

They've been defending the Night from
the prehistoric threat of the Light...

since the times when there was
no difference between Good and Evil.

Just like today.

It's even more beautiful today.

One can deliberately do evil.

How about you?

Me?

I just love you, Helene.

Remember you promised
to tell me the secret of the forest.

Well, then...

listen.

Over there.

The center of the forest...

hides some sort
of abyss of instincts.

Anyone getting close to it
will be cursed.

Look how everything here
seems to be calling us.

- The attraction can be lethal.
- Lethal?

How so?

- Because of the abyss.
- The abyss?

This abyss is hungry

for instincts
at their purest state.

No one can get out of it.

Only I know the way.

My whole life, I've never met an
attractive and powerful man such as you.

You have touched
my heart quite profoundly

and I am so attracted to you
that I could follow you

anywhere you want me to.

Oh, Helene...

First, I need to know
you are truly sincere.

I would do anything for you.

Then I want revenge.

Revenge?

Yes, revenge
on that stupid Piedade.

Piedade?

Why Piedade?

She is pure and I'm saving her
for the ultimate sin.

What more would you want?

You're going
the wrong direction.

I don't want her falling
into my husband's arms.

So you do love him.

No, Baltar.
This isn't about love.

It's about pride.
You know how women are.

Give me the proof I want
and I'll be yours entirely.

Say the word and I'll obey.

Bring Piedade here.

May she get lost forever.

Here?

I will.

For you.

I like to see you
excited like that.

It's wonderful.
I don't know what I feel.

There's something
calling me.

- What?
- It feels like coming back home

after going for a trip...
a far trip.

What?!

Would all this be familiar
to you, Piedade?

Yes, it is true.

It feels like entering
into my childhood's garden.

Why haven't you
ever brought me here before?

You've just arrived here,
Piedade.

That is true.

You mean you are not upset

for my taking you away
from Professor Michael's company,

that indefatigable researcher?

No, I just found it strange
that you called me out secretly.

But in face of what I now see,

I can only be grateful to you.

So you don't miss Michael?

You seemed to be
fascinated by him.

Fascinated?

Fascinated
by the professor's work,

not by him.

I know...

I know I should
not say that,

but if there's somebody who has
fascinated me since I first saw him,

that is you, Mr. Baltar.

Me?

A strange fascination...

strong,

like the fascination of a father
over a daughter.

Of a father?

A respectful fascination.

Otherwise, I would have asked
the professor's consent to leave.

Don't you share
the professor's arrogant ambition?

Which ambition?

That of achieving eternity.

To be honest,

I admire Professor Padovic's
enticing ambition,

but I do not share it
with him at all.

Why shouldn't on want
to share it?

Only that desire provides men
with greatness.

Because he is taken
by pride.

Do you despise pride?

Pride stimulates greatness, the only
possibility for men to equal God.

You laugh?

The path is different,
Mr. Baltar.

The path of purity?

Yes,

the only path that can lead one
to eternal life.

Nevertheless, you are an accomplice
of Professor Padovic's research.

It is his work.

I only collaborate with him because
I think my contribution might be helpful

in enlightening people.
That's all.

Once, Professor Padovic said,

"It is necessary
to face the ridicule,

defeat it with an arrow so swift

it can travel around the world
in 40 seconds.

Where has
that arrow fallen?

On an occidental little flower,

milk-white yesterday,

now red,

bleeding like
a bruised blackberry,

to which virgins
refers as thoughts."

He asked me,
"Don't the Portuguese think?"

What did you say
in reply, Mr. Baltar?

That thought

can't defeat
the turbulent ocean...

as far as I know.

Neither can it turn
stones into puns,

the favorite activity
of the Portuguese.

Why do they like puns
so much?

They fool the devil
with them...

as well as other men.

What about
your beloved professor?

What did he make of me?

I don't know.

You don't want to tell me?

So?

Prof. Padovic is under the impression
you were mocking him.

In fact, that was
what he deserved.

Oh, no.

Is there anything more ridicule
than a human being,

loving, dying,

being unfair or rude?

That is always ridicule.

Do you consider yourself
ridicule, Mr. Baltar?

I am not human.

Even though there are things
in you that attract me...

I'm sorry for being so frank...

there are others

that I hate.

Nothing better for whoever
is in love, Piedade,

that is the strongest
expression of love.

Come on, don't joke around.

From what I see, the professor
is the one you really love.

You continue joking around,
don't you?

Don't be angry.
Just tell me something...

what things
did he say to you?

You don't want to talk
about him?

So, Piedade,

I'm serious!

What things did he say?

Words of love?

He said other things to me.

Listen,

he said that genius
without heart is nothing.

He used to talk
about the poet Jacques Perez.

He told me that he was born
in 1564,

that he was the son
of a wool merchant,

or of a municipal official.

To summarize, he told me

that the name Shakespeare
derives from Jacques Perez.

I am not interesting
in that type of thing.

I know exactly what
you have in mind.

No...
I do not love him.

I mean, I like him the way
I like everybody else.

I want to confess something
to you, Mr. Baltar...

a deep feeling I have.

Piedade,

tell me what
the deep feeling is

that you have.

I yearn to go back to God.

Did I offend you, Mr. Baltar?

Did I say
any imprudent word?

Piedade!

Piedade!

Piedade.

Of course...

"Evil always exercises
its power

over submissive love."

What does the tarot say?

However much he searches,
he will not find anything.

Helene!

"Enough. I come together
with my lord, ship-borne,

and now his city must I seek,
his harbinger.

But what intent his heart has,
that I may not guess.

Is it as wife I come?

And come I as a queen?

Or am I here a victim
of my prince's pangs,

and of the evil fates
long suffered by the Greeks?"

Helen of Troy
had the gift of ubiquity.

That's it. Why not?
Ubiquity...

yeah, I think I read
something somewhere...

the ability
to transform oneself.

The fisherman later said that there was
a big fire in the forest that day,

which destroyed
the rare Jurassic remains.

He added that Helene and Michael
left immediately,

with their books and clothes,

and that Piedade and Baltar,
missing after the fire,

were replaced at the convent
by Berta and Baltazar.

The fisherman heard

that Helene and Michael were leading
a normal life in Paris

and that the professor had abandoned
his research on Jacques Perez

to dedicate himself
to occult sciences.

But we shouldn't believe everything
the fisherman says.