All language subtitles for Marco Polo Episode 1 (Giuliano Montaldo_ 1982).ENG

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Original subtitles

Come on, the other sheet!

Hold it!

Captain? Captain Polo? It's our turn stand guard.

You may go rest.

We're in sight of the Dalmatian Archipelago.

We're in friendly waters. - Yet still on the open sea.

We've lost contact with the Genoese,

but their ships are lighter…

and faster.

They'll try to intercept us.

We must get to Curzola quickly.

With all due respect, Captain Polo,

the Admiral has ordered us to not break formation.

We'll keep in the field of vision, signaling with fires at night.

Keep your eyes open.

And may St Mark protect us.

This is my second time on this ship.

It's not the shoal!

To arms!

For St Mark!

For Chiari! - For Venice and St Mark!

GENOA PRISON Winter 1298

Here is Marco Polo, the Venetian.

We didn't let anyone approach him,

since Friar Filippo began his questioning.

Who are you?

Who are you?

Wait, Brother!

Brother, help me!

Listen to me!

I've answered the questions! I can prove everything!

In the name of God, hear me!

Then… then I crawled out from under the pile of bodies!

It was as if all of Genoa had fallen on me.

I was swimming… no…

First, I looked around to search for my good captain.

And there he was:

In the middle of the sea, struggling to keep afloat,

but his armor was pulling him down! I jumped into the water…

And I tried to reach him, so that I could save him.

He had…

an injured arm.

He had almost lost consciousness. I…

I grabbed him with both hands,

then I attached myself to a board floating by me and…

Then you carried him to safety

swimming to the bottom of the Genoese galley.

You were fished out and then thrown in here with me,

another of Genoa's humiliated enemies.

Yes, that's right. - Brave warriors, the Genoese.

We Pisans and you Venetians have learned it to our cost.

We want you to explain what you have written here.

Picturesque stories which you and the Venetian Marco Polo

have fabricated over the last 8 months in this cell.

9 months and 10 days.

He arrived in this palace of mine,

one month after he was captured,

weakened from his wounds.

He'd talk in his sleep, have nightmares. That's how I heard about his travels.

I enjoyed staying awake just to listen to him.

He fascinated me.

And amused me.

A twisted mind, obviously.

We want you to enlighten us,

so we can discern which stories are figments of his imagination

and what was your contribution.

It'd be easy if he were still here.

I can't speak for him.

We were together for many months, but I can't say I know him.

Where is he? Set free?

Messer Polo will not be freed,

until he has convinced us that what he says are not dangerous falsehoods

which he wants us to believe to be true.

But Captain Marco tells the truth!

He's an honest man and a great traveler by land and by sea.

Is traveling a sin now?

We moved him to this prison to grant him solitude and quiet.

What he has answered so far hasn't quelled our doubts.

We hope that he will benefit from the rest and will decide…

to be truthful.

Are you from Pisa? - Yes, I am Pisan.

My name is Amedeo Rustico but my friends call me Rustichello.

I was taken prisoner in the first of these…

eternal trade wars, 10 years ago.

A Pisan…

and a tale writer. - My trade is writing.

Just as praying and forgiving, I believe, is yours.

Brother…? - Damiano from Bologna.

Of course you already know Brother Filippo from Genoa.

We both belong to the order of Saint Dominic.

You have an order…

and I have disorder.

These are just notes.

It happened so quickly.

Marco Polo has a prodigious memory and such a wealth of tales,

that I couldn't resist the temptation to take notes.

I'd rather tell you the stories written by me,

my original works:

my adventures, romances, comedies, tragedies.

There are many people who read me.

These pages, from what they tell us,

contain stories that speak of pagan places,

of sinful rites,

which could lead to the corruption of the young and innocent!

These pages contain only what he told me.

I have never seen what he claims to have seen.

I'm not a merchant, nor a traveler,

though I followed Prince Edward of England to the Holy Land,

as a crusader, as God willed.

And God now wants us to ascertain whether these pages

trespass far beyond the profane,

and go as far as heresy.

Heresy? Oh, no!

Brothers, I can barely read! I don't know how to write.

I just listened and prayed.

I'm a good Christian, God knows.

We cannot decipher what you have scribbled here.

I've already asked for your indulgence for my disorder.

Too much water in the ink.

The feather of a ringwormed goose.

Look here.

Amalfi, Pisa,

Genoa, Venice.

4 quarrelsome maritime republics. They don't look big, right?

They are just 4 dots, no bigger than a fly's excrement.

Yet cursed with boundless pride.

A defect for which we pay too high a price.

This should worry you and your order, more than these stories.

We have instructions to question, listen and report.

And since you,

or what you call a "feather of a ringwormed goose",

have made it impossible to understand what you have scribbled down,

we ask you once again

to tell us all what you know, all that is written,

all that is on these pages!

Proceed!

I told you I didn't have time to put it in order.

He mentioned so many countries, cities, rivers…

Will you begin or not?

It all began in the year of our lord 1254,

when Marco Polo was born in Venice,

the queen of the Adriatic,

as the Venetians call their proud republic.

From her port rises numerous masts and sails.

Her merchants reach all the shores of the world.

Marco's father, Niccolò, was one of them.

He had left with his brother, Matteo, for a long voyage before Marco's birth.

They had been gone for years.

Marco grew up under the loving but intermittent care of an ailing mother.

She was too weak to care for him.

He was cared for by his father's sister, Aunt Flora,

and her husband, Uncle Zane, a cloth merchant.

They were practical people,

anchored to a land their ancestors had painfully wrested from the sea.

Marco as a boy was a dreamer:

Every breeze made his heart set sail.

He should have been helping his uncle in the shop at the square,

but the port and docks were his favorite places.

He listened avidly to the sailors telling their fabulous adventures,

hoping that one day, one would tell him that his father

was returning to Venice and him.

Marco had cousins, but he didn't like their company.

He had chosen his friends among the boys from the lagoon.

Their games were inspired by those of adults,

like the battle with canes,

which was fought bravely in canals, big and small,

not without a few scratches and many leaps into the water.

Let's attack!

Throw them in the water! - Watch out, Marco!

Come on, let's attack! - Marco! Marco!

Uncle Zane is looking for you! - Marco!

Marco! - Take that!

Aunt Flora and I have been looking for you everywhere.

Your mother…

Your mother is fading away, Marco.

She has no strength left, do you understand?

She's been calling for you, Marco.

She's been waiting all afternoon.

Go to her now.

Marco…

The Lord is good to me.

I was afraid I would leave without seeing you again.

I was… I was with with my friends.

You are like your father:

Home is too small for you.

You are so much like him, Marco.

Like my Niccolò.

Tall like him,

with big hands.

He could pick you up like a twig.

I did for you all I could.

You need your father now.

He'll never come back, Mother.

He'll come back, just wait.

Whatever they may say,

remember that.

And all of Venice will celebrate him:

"Welcome back, Messer Polo.

Congratulations."

He'll have presents for you, Marco.

Gifts for everyone.

You'll be very proud of him.

Marco,

the letter…

the one your father wrote me,

I want to read it one more time, before it gets dark.

Get it…

Get it…

"I'm in a great city…

with palaces and churches with golden roofs.

I feel like I've been away from Venice…

not for months, but for years.

The sailor…

who brought the news of the birth of our son Marco,

is about to return home.

I entrust him with some of my…

gifts for you…

and for Marco.

You did well to give him the name

of the patron saint of our dear Venice."

Marco,

read, read the rest.

"I will return soon.

I want to go back home.

I shouldn't have left you alone.

I too, like you, feel very lonely.

But I do all this, suffer all this,

for us…

for you and for our son Marco."

Marco, it's…

it's almost night.

You remembered to put the candle in the window, right?

Don't ever forget that.

Your father must know that we're always here waiting for him.

Even if he comes at night.

Marco…

hold my hand.

Now don't cry,

don't cry, son.

Tell him I didn't want to leave.

That I wanted to stay awake,

that I wanted to wait for him.

Ah, Marco…

Mother…

Here we are, Marco.

Unload everything, come on, boys.

Come, Zane. - Yes.

Come on, let's put it all out here.

What are you doing?

I'm airing it out, Marco to get rid of the smell of sickness.

I don't want you to touch anything in her room.

I know how you feel, Marco.

But life must go on.

Your uncle and I will take care of the house for your sake.

We'll sleep here.

Then where will I sleep? - Downstairs, with your cousins.

Your poor mother said, "Flora,

you must take care of Marco, you must protect him."

Easy to say but what can I do it with?

Her illness devoured everything and didn't leave us a penny.

And then your father!

What does he know about it?

Instead of sending money for his family,

he sends this stuff, pagan objects,

which Christians ought not to keep in their homes.

They could even harm you.

They've already brought sickness into this house.

They must be done away with.

But they're the gifts my father sent from Constantinople!

Pagan idols!

Sorcery! - They belonged to my mother!

She was too sick to get rid of them. I don't want them in the house.

And that stuff too. Give it to me now!

No, it's mine, from my father! - I won't allow your soul be lost!

My brother should be ashamed,

unless he's already before God, suffering for his sins. Give it to me!

No! My father went to seek his fortune for me and my mother!

There is no fortune for those who lose themselves among infidels!

Tartars!

Mongols!

Cruel and barbaric peoples.

Children of the devil!

Maybe your father is over there, lost among those savages,

where no ray of light ever shines.

The edge of the world is there,

where one can slip away into nothingness!

My father is still alive and will come back, just wait!

Where are you going, Marco? Listen to me!

Believe me, even if you go around half of Italy from Venice to Florence,

you won't find a fabric of this quality.

It is unique!

I had kept it for you because I knew you would appreciate it.

Indeed it is beautiful, I can't deny it,

only your price is too high, Messer Zane.

I am willing to give you 4…

4 ducats an arms-length. Nothing more.

8, Messer, 8 ducats an arms-length.

And your wife shall be a worthy ornament to your person.

It'll be a sure proof of your opulence,

every time you go to the Basilica for Mass.

6. - 7…

7. - 8.

8…

What did you say this fabric is called?

Ermisino.

It's made in Hormuz, a city in Persia. We just got it in.

Marco, help Messer Alessandro, accompany him to his boat.

Goodbye. - Goodbye, Messer Alessandro.

Marco! Marco!

Come on! Let's go!

Excuse me, I must go.

But… hey!

When you travel the world like me… - Come.

…you'll find the most incredible people,

the strangest people that exist! Ah, yes:

Men with the heads of dogs,

eagles that can lift elephants,

and I assure you, I've never met women sweeter or more welcoming.

Do you know what I mean?

You mean, you were welcomed with open arms?

That's right and the men don't get jealous one bit.

But if you touched one of their camels, they'd open your belly.

Like that.

Then they'd throw the guts to the dogs.

I remember once in Persia… - You've been to Persia? Where?

I got as far as Tabris.

Oh, I saw the Mongols but only from a distance though.

Thousands of men and twice as many horses.

Two horses for each of them.

Some sailors said that the Mongols were going to burn villages,

so we decided to get out fast. - Sir?

Excuse me, Sir. - What do you want to know, boy?

During your travels, have you ever met or heard of my father,

Niccolò Polo?

A merchant who traveled with his brother Matteo.

The world is very big, you know. When did they leave?

Many years ago before I was born.

And where did they want to go?

To the Far East, they wanted to cross Persia.

Sorry, boy, I never met them, but as I said,

I only put a foot in Persia.

One look at those Mongols was enough to scare me to death.

A cruel people.

If your father ended up among them…

They are devils!

They were spat from the bottom of hell. I know, I have lived under them.

Under them? Where? - In Dalmatia,

when Genghis Khan and his people pushed to the borders of Venice.

Why didn't they kill you? - Because we didn't fight.

If you fight them, they don't stop until they kill everybody:

men, children, women.

Their heads piled up where their houses used to be.

It is their custom: a mountains of heads!

They have no mercy even on themselves:

Anyone who makes a mistake…

off with his hands and feet.

Off goes the head.

Luckily, I was useful, because I was good with horses,

so they didn't treat me too badly.

Until the day they left.

They wanted something of ours to take with them,

because they needed to remember our defeat.

They chose the right ear.

The ears of men, women and children. Hundreds, thousands of ears!

Baskets filled to the brim. They carried them away like trophies.

And if you don't believe me…

VENICE Winter 1269

Look, Marco! Look how much it has grown.

Look there!

It looks like a ghost ship. - It could be a plague ship.

Marco, no! Marco!

Come back!

Marco! Where are you going?

Careful, Marco!

Marco, get back here!

Go away!

Go away! - Go away!

Stay away! - Go away, boy!

Do you know Niccolò Polo or Matteo Polo?

No! There's a plague on board! - Go away!

Go back!

Stay away! - Go away!

It's wrong. Can't you see? That's the 2nd time it's wrong.

We're wasting time!

Fine, it's another boat's rudder. I'll fix it.

With help like this, we'll never leave port.

Don't tell me you've lost hope too.

You do understand what those sailors have been saying for years,

all those stories about monsters, men with dog heads,

are nothing but fairy tales?

No, I still believe it.

They actually saw them. - I believe it too.

In my opinion,

we shouldn't doubt certain things just because…

they're different from what we know.

Sometimes…

I feel like I'm dreaming, I feel like…

Yes, I dream that I am in strange places.

And when I awake, I wonder if…

if it were a dream or not.

Maybe…

Maybe, I really traveled.

Without knowing it. - Yes, even my confessor says so.

What? - That I gotta stop dreaming.

But someday, who knows?

I'll be able to travel for real, not just in a dream.

When we finish the boat.

You know, I've only really cried twice in my life:

Once, when my mother died…

and I saw her taken away.

The second time,

one morning when I was a child,

I was crying…

because I realized that my shoes were all worn out.

But then I said to myself,

"Why are you crying? In Venice, you just need your feet…

and a boat.

You don't need shoes but you need a boat."

Building a boat is like…

finding a key that opens up the whole world for you.

With a boat I can escape…

from this prison.

Whenever I want. Do you understand me?

Look.

Here are the dog-headed men.

And these are the eagles who can lift elephants.

If I draw them, that means they exist.

You have eyes on your fingertips, Bartolomeo.

And they can see far.

Come with me, I'll show you something.

Come, he has finished his masterpiece.

Look here.

Did you add that character tonight? - Who is it?

Genglo. - Who?

You mean Genghis Khan. - No.

Geglo Khan, the king of the Mongols. - It's beautiful.

He has come from the ends of the earth and he is furious.

Because there's only sea before him. There's no more land to conquer.

But look there:

These two are Niccolò Polo and his brother Matteo.

They have gone beyond Mongolia and they are smiling,

because the whole world is before them.

You're fantastic, Bartolomeo. - Too much so.

How does he invent them? - He's a magician.

But are we going to stay here and dream?

Are we moving or not? Who'll finish the boat?

If not, he'll start screaming. - Let's go.

We must hurry.

I have to add something. - See the colors? They're lovely.

A noble cloth, worthy of a noble lady.

A price that will not lighten your purse much, Milady.

It's not exactly what I wanted.

You must look at it in the light.

It's a wonder, Milady. You see,

it took 100 woman's hands and 100 days to weave it.

Too many days.

Too many hands.

Thank you, no.

Not even the Doge has ever seen a brocade like this.

An identical piece was sent by King Ruggero of Sicily

to the last Pope.

I think not, Messer Zane. Maybe another day.

Alvise!

Fold it back up.

Marco!

Wait for me.

Here.

Go buy me some fish.

And come back right away!

Shall we go?

Enough! What is this nonsense?

He's the one who always wants to argue! He needs the least excuse!

I don't want to argue. You don't keep your promises.

I never asked you for anything. - Oh, you deny it?

You like to argue in the middle of the square!

Thank you.

3 large codfish.

There you go.

Half a big fried codfish for Donna Fiammetta.

I'm sorry, Ma'am, they fished very little today.

The last ones I sold to this young man.

Take mine. Really, I can do without them.

No, it's my fault for being late.

Let's go, Caterina.

My nurse has no right to refuse a gift for my mother.

I thank you.

What's your name? - That's enough, Caterina, come.

Didn't you want to go all the way to Santa Fosca?

Marco. Polo.

Thank you again, Marco Polo.

Goodbye.

Sorry, I've changed my mind. I want to go home.

Tomorrow we'll go to Santa Fosca, after vespers.

Where have you been all this time?

I told you to buy fish, not to go fishing!

I… I lost the money.

I must have dropped it. - But where…?

Where does your head go?

I'll nail it to your shoulders.

Alvise. Luca!

What are you doing?

Did I teach you to treat the cloth like that?

All piled up and in disarray!

After the customer has left, the goods must be put back!

I was afraid you wouldn't come.

But how is that possible?

Yes, maybe something had kept you back.

Nothing could stop me.

I feel like I'm in a dream. I am so happy.

Me too, you know, I'm very happy.

Ever since I saw you,

I've only thought of you.

I longed to see you again.

And now here you are.

I wanted it too.

I showed you, maybe even too plainly.

Where is your nurse? - She walks very slowly.

And then today is the day she visits the cemetery.

Your mother lets you go out alone? - I didn't go out alone.

I was with my nurse. We separated later.

However, my mother trusts me.

She must be an exceptional woman.

A lot of people think so.

Do you want to be a merchant? Is that stall at the market yours?

How do you know about the stall?

Did you think you saw me first?

I had already seen you.

When?

How come I didn't see you?

You were engrossed with your cloth.

Like a true merchant.

I don't want a market stall. - Why not?

You can become rich.

I… I want to travel.

Like my father.

Why? Must a son be like his father?

I love my mother, but I want to be different from her.

I want to be myself.

And then, why aren't you with your father?

I never met him.

I was not born when he left. He went far away.

Farther than all the merchants of Venice.

How do you know he still lives?

I can feel it.

In my blood,

inside of me,

here, in my heart.

My mother felt it too.

We knew it together.

Look at this,

he sent it to her before she died with other things as well.

It's beautiful.

Do you see? It looks like it's made of…

of grass and water.

You can keep it if you want.

Am I right to wait for him?

If you feel it inside yourself,

in your blood, as you said,

then you are right.

And until he returns, you'll sell cloth.

I give my uncle a hand.

When I have some time, I'm making a ship with my friends.

Really? - Of course.

It helps me not to give up hope. With a boat you are free.

I want to see…

other places,

different countries, other people.

When I can I go to the docks, the port,

where the sailors meet. - Why?

They tell beautiful stories.

Stories of unicorns,

of monsters, of mermaids.

You say that like you've seen them.

That's right.

You know, one of my friends is an artist, he paints.

And everything I describe, he paints on the walls of an old dock.

I would like you to come there. - Gladly.

We're building my boat there.

I regard it as my real home.

I'm late.

I'd like to stay but I can't.

I'm sorry, you know but my mother will be waiting.

Are they strict with you? - No.

I told you, my mother is very kind and sweet.

Even if…

well, never mind.

Do you want an apple?

Caterina!

Here. - Hey! Stop! What are you doing?

Stop thief! Stop him! - Caterina!

I know you: You're Zane's nephew! - Hurry!

Don't think you'll get away with this! I'll tell your uncle!

Wait!

What were you thinking? - Slow down!

I knew you'd come.

It's a ship that has arrived from Persia.

There is a rich merchant.

He made a big fortune.

Welcome back.

Finally.

Look, that's the ship's officer.

Ask him if he has any news.

Look out, there! - Excuse me!

Sir? Excuse me…

Sir, have you ever met Niccolò Polo in your travels?

Polo? - Yes.

A merchant traveling with his brother. - Where?

In Persia.

In the East.

Polo…

Did he have a red birthmark here by any chance?

On his right cheek?

It's possible.

Well, then I'm sorry.

The last time I saw that man, he was tied to a pole…

and pierced by Mongolian arrows.

You're not hungry?

Not anymore.

Marco, this is not a tavern.

Dinner was ready 3 hours ago, for you as well as for the others.

I had…

I had business with my friends. - Friends? A fine lot.

You're only wasting your time.

Your uncle says you don't even help him at the shop.

You forget errands, your head's always in the clouds and you lose money.

A fine example for your cousins. This can't keep going on!

Do you want me to leave?

I want you to respect those who feed and take care of you!

You must do your share of the work!

Woe is me! To break my back for a vagabond:

This is my life.

Sure, I only have myself to blame.

What could I expect from the son of one who leaves his family and disappears?

Who is wandering God knows where!

How has your father been a brother to me?

Marco?

Marco, where are you going now?

Why won't you ever listen to me?

Hey!

Where do you think you're going?

Isn't this Silversmith Court? - And if it is?

I'm looking for Donna Fiammetta.

Well, well! The young man has serious intentions, eh?

You seem respectable, even though you look like a rookie.

Go ahead, it's the first door you'll see.

Go on.

Are you looking for me, young man?

I'm looking for the house of Donna Fiammetta, Ma'am.

You have found it.

I would like to talk to Donna Fiammetta, if I may.

Here I am, in the flesh.

Well, am I to your liking?

You are very young.

But…

are you sure you can afford Donna Fiammetta?

There must be a mistake.

I had come for Caterina.

Giuseppe! Giuseppe!

Chase this worm out of here! Out!

Out! - What are you looking for here?

What do you want?

If you come back, I'll kill you!

See you at the dock.

Where have you been all morning? - Here. Where else?

Give alms…

Give alms…

Good morning, Brother Anselmo.

Thank you for taking my son into your school.

I hope he'll do well with your help.

Pray for him, that is the best help he can have.

Look, who's coming.

Zane, the courtesan is coming to Mass.

Well, Caterina aren't you coming? Mass doesn't wait, you know.

This is the 2nd time you've tried. It had better be the last.

Stay away.

How shameful!

Let's go!

To approach a prostitute?

May God forgive us.

Caterina is not like her mother. - Generated in sin.

She's a lost soul.

No soul is ever completely lost.

But this young man… - I have nothing to be ashamed of.

I don't hide that I love her. - You are a stubborn sinner.

From an early age, you have proved to be unrepentant and headstrong.

He had no father. I did my best. - I have a father.

It is a truth that no one can deny:

Your father set sail toward the void, the darkness,

for those parts of the world where only evil spirits dwell,

beyond the limits set by God.

What limits? - Outside the embrace of the Church.

What worries me, Marco, is your obstinacy.

You close your eyes to reality.

You forget what you've been taught within these walls for many years.

You must have certainly learned something from us.

Yes…

Almost everything I know. - You owe it to us,

if you can read and write.

But I also learned from others:

From people who have seen the world.

You are learned but you've never been beyond these walls.

Many of our brothers have crossed the sea following

the crusaders even to the Holy Land.

These walls do not prevent us from seeing, from knowing.

Even if you never traveled? - Marco!

We can only conclude that he is immovable.

He shall learn to his cost what humility is.

Here, this will warm you up.

It is hot wine with cloves.

So her mother is a prostitute.

It's not surprising, there are so many of them.

It doesn't mean that your Caterina will take after her.

Put a little honey in.

After all, my father is a mason

and I am a painter.

Your father is a merchant and what are you? A merchant? No.

She doesn't have to be like her mother. - Listen, Marco,

your uncle will surely send someone to look for you.

The guards will come here.

It would be better if you went home.

It's not the end of the world.

Giulio is right.

I want to leave Venice.

We must finish the boat. - It only needs a sail.

I've already collected all the canvas I could find,

and Bartolomeo has given us a piece of a Saracen sail.

The sail will be good to fool pirates.

They'll think you are one of them!

Good.

I just need to get to the Dalmatian coast.

There, I'll find a ship for the East.

What about Caterina?

The most beautiful boat in the Adriatic!

Look, they lost their sail!

Hey!

Hey! - We're here!

Here comes Marco.

He's always late.

Marco!

Where did you spend the night?

I had an accident.

I was trying out my boat.

Come inside.

Marco,

your father has returned.

Father? - I am your uncle, Matteo.

And did your mother…

sometimes talk about me?

Every day.

Especially when she was sick.

She was always hoping to hear from you.

Well, I'm not very good at writing letters.

It is too great a pain not to find her here.

She was an extraordinary woman.

I tried to come back earlier but…

Hey, Marco!

Bartolomeo says that this was your idea.

It was a way to be with you.

We tried to imagine how it was. We relied on sailors' stories.

Ah, fantastic!

You have a mighty imagination. - I said that you would like them.

You must have seen amazing things.

Is it true what the sailors say?

That there are men with dog heads,

who talk like us, but bark when they get angry?

Honestly, I've never seen any. - I have.

Once. You couldn't really make them out but…

but how they would bark!

Look at this, Niccolò.

What's this stuff? - The Mongolian women.

They have so many children that in order to nurse them all,

nature multiplied their breasts.

Like goats or sows.

You heard this from the sailors? - Yes.

No, boys that's not true.

I've never seen women like that. - You wouldn't have forgotten, eh?

Father, how far did you go?

How many miles from here? - Well, it's hard to say.

It took years to get there and even longer to get back.

Where? - At the court of the Great Khan.

Genglo?

Genghis.

He is dead.

Now there's his grandson Kublai:

He reigns over all of China, Persia and part of India.

The priests say that nobody lives in those lands.

only beasts and evil spirits.

One day they'll know the truth. - What truth?

That country which you call China, what is it really like?

It is a huge country,

bigger and richer than you can imagine.

Is that where you wanted to make your fortune?

And we have made it. Marco.

Here, look: turquoises, rubies,

pearls and emeralds.

Stop, you mustn't touch! - We risked our lives.

We were in the hands of brigands in Palestine.

They took almost everything. These we managed to hide.

I have never seen such beautiful gems.

I could buy a ship full of textiles with a couple of these.

Yes, and that's nothing.

We left over there almost all our wealth.

The Khan has it in custody, to ensure our return.

You see, Marco, we are not what we appear to be.

We left as merchants,

but we've returned as ambassadors of the Great Khan…

to the Doge of Venice.

Viva Marco!

Long live, Marco! - Viva!

Bravo, let's go to church! - Let's all go to church together!

I was so sure! - You were right!

Long live Marco!

Marco is leaving soon, going to the East!

The Great Khan is waiting for my father!

I'm going to China!

Set me down! The candle might break.

I had promised a candle to St Mark, if your father came back.

To St Mark, my friend.

This is your stuff, Zane. Put it with the other one.

What are you doing? - We're leaving.

We're going back to our house.

But it is this your house, Flora.

Especially since before long, we'll leave again.

We must return to the Great Khan.

And you must stay to look after the house and Marco.

The boy has done nothing but dream about traveling with you and your brother.

That's all he talks about.

Impossible, he has no experience.

And no discipline!

He has given us so many worries over the years,

with his poor mother who every day struggled to stay alive,

and you go wandering all around the world.

I had to struggle with Marco.

He's not bad, Niccolò, just… - Stubborn!

And absent-minded, with his head in the clouds.

He takes after his mother.

But thank God,

he is full of health.

You need to talk to him, Niccolò. You are his father.

I still haven't gotten to know him.

I knew that he was born, and that I had a son, only that…

all these years, I thought of him as a child.

Instead, I found a man.

You say that he is difficult, but a stranger's words,

even though he calls me father, could not…

could not stop him. No…

No, let him learn a trade first.

Here, next to you and Zane. You are now closer to him than me.

Besides, I don't have time, I must leave.

Someday, when…

we return home for forever, I can take care of him and you all.

Meanwhile, please stay here.

And remember, Flora,

you are my sister.

At the same time, you are Marco's second mother and he must respect you.

I thank you, noble Doge and you, Patriarch.

This audience for me and my brother is a great honor.

We bear extraordinary news:

The days of Genghis Khan are long gone.

Except in the imagination of Europe.

His successor, Kublai, is a man of peace, cultured and tolerant.

Yet, he has conquered more territories than his grandfather Genghis.

That's right, 3 times as many.

But now his only desires are trade and the bonds of friendship.

Friendship? With a barbarian?

In many things, Sir, China looks like Europe.

China?

Yes, China or Cathay, as you call it.

And you expect us to give you credence?

Everybody knows that those Mongols are a pack of bloodthirsty beasts.

Yet, on our way back,

only when we reached civilized Europe were we robbed.

Before then, we traveled for months, for years,

armed only with this passport given to us by the Khan,

when he appointed us his ambassadors.

My lord…

But… it's gold!

Pure gold!

Unbelievable!

Isn't commerce your trade? - We are merchants, my lord.

The benefits accruing to Venice and all of us,

through a pact between Your Serenity and the Khan would be obvious.

For your master certainly,

but what can he offer that would interest us Venetians?

Mountains of gold! Diamonds!

Sapphires, lapis lazuli, pearl-filled waters,

silks, spices and precious furs!

We discussed this with his ministers:

In 2 or 3 years, we could open a trade route from Venice to his empire.

A traffic of valuable goods,

that would make our city, Venice, Europe's greatest emporium!

A trade of such magnitude with the infidel

would undoubtedly lead to the total corruption

and perversion of our Christian souls.

We have lived among them for years,

yet our faith is unchanged.

You are blinded…

by the riches of your Khan,

by his promises of trade.

In Europe, many kings,

many princes of the Church are invited to a holy crusade,

to rid the Christian world of the Mongolian plague.

And then, your master shall tremble

at the sight of the soldiers of the cross.

Patriarch!

The empire of the Mongols is 10 times larger than Alexander's empire!

It stretches from Russia and Persia, through India to the shores of China.

All the neighboring peoples live in its shadow.

If attacked, the Khan could put millions of men in the field.

We tremble for Venice…

and for all Christendom,

should its leaders provoke its wrath.

"The gates of hell shall not prevail!"

Be that as it may,

the first duty of our republic is the salvation of souls.

As you well know, Patriarch.

But we are not here to discuss a new crusade.

We need to examine more carefully what the Polo Brothers report.

As you say, you are merchants,

therefore little aware of the inevitable diplomatic difficulties.

Even for trade, I see great practical problems.

Not the least of which is the shipment of large sums in gold

at the distances you speak of.

My lord, every day in China large sums in gold pass from hand to hand

in the form of paper money.

Yes.

Each of these notes has printed on it, its value in silver and gold,

which can be obtained at any time from the treasury of the Khan.

They are promissory notes, then.

Yes, but for the future.

It is a kind of money circulating in the empire.

Provided the Khan has sufficient gold and silver to guarantee it.

So this would be

the money that our republic should accept as payment,

risking its spiritual death?

Sheets of soiled paper!

The paper matters little.

What matters is its value. - Which is zero!

Messer Polo, take a good look at this:

This is the only thing that matters.

It speaks.

It has its own voice.

One candle, please.

And it is indestructible.

But this one…

is an illusion!

It has neither weight nor value that you can see.

What can a thing be worth if the slightest accident destroys it?

You have just burned through the equivalent…

of 220 pounds of pure silver.

Congratulations.

I repeat again, that Holy Church is decidedly opposed…

to any treaty or compromise…

with the enemies of the one true God.

Kublai Khan is eager to learn more about Christianity, Patriarch.

Does he desire to convert to the true faith?

Not really, my lord.

He has studied the doctrines of Mahomet and Buddha.

Now he wants to study the Holy Bible.

All doctrines interest him equally.

That is a sure sign of barbarism.

Our ambassadorship doesn't end in Venice, Patriarch.

We'll request an audience with the Pope. - The Pope?

The Khan asks the Pope to send a 100 doctors of the Church.

For what purpose? - He wants a big debate

and if or doctors win, it'll prove that our faith is the true one.

And if they don't win? - This is a trap!

To confound the representatives of Christ.

To make them laughingstocks!

But if the Holy Father approves? - That's impossible.

There is no pope in Rome now.

There is no pope!

For 3 years, the conclave has gathered

to argue and agree on the choice of the successor

of the last deceased pope.

Then what are we to do? - You must wait.

And your master, the Khan, must wait.

As must we all.

You must understand the patriarch of Aquilea:

Christianity, the only true religion,

is under constant threat.

I share your fears but…

the weight of my responsibility is even heavier.

Venice has many friends all over the known world.

But also dangerous enemies. Do you know what that means?

That you spend a fortune every year to defend it, my lord.

Exactly, a continuous hemorrhaging of our reserves.

What you have reported has made me think.

If this peace offering is sincere,

and if this peace offers wealth to the Republic,

it cannot be rejected out of hand.

But from you,

and that is why I asked you to stay, I want the whole truth.

Without hiding anything. The truth before God.

I swear that what we said is true.

And the patriarch must believe us.

With the help of the Great Khan, the Pope can get back the Holy Sepulcher.

Be careful, Messer Polo.

Don't think that we have failed our duty in fighting in the Holy Land.

And don't forget that the Doges Domenico Michiel and Enrico Dandolo

led the Venetian crusaders against the Mussulmen,

now called Saracens, who conquered Jerusalem.

Venice paid to the holy cause a great tribute.

But now I want to speak to you in confidence.

Not to your ears, but to your souls.

Venice has never denied its mercantile instincts.

We've sold and still sell weapons and armor to the Saracens themselves.

And from them we buy spices, textiles and precious metals.

Yes, the whole question of alliances is enormous and very difficult.

You can't make decisions by just calculating losses and profits.

We understand, Sir.

I knew so, else I wouldn't have spoken.

For now, all I can say to you is: Go back to your Khan.

Tell him that Venice accepts the opportunity he offers us.

Even if the Patriarch doesn't approve?

Venice desires to remain independent from the Church.

But it's not just a matter of politics or trade.

We have obligations as Christians.

The Khan respects our religion and is eager to approach the Pope.

The Conclave in Viterbo doesn't seem close to a decision.

Why, Sir?

The cardinals don't agree, they squabble among themselves,

Caught up in the intrigues of kings and emperors.

11 want an Italian pope, 10 want a Frenchman.

I heard that the people of Viterbo

tore off the roof of the building where the conclave gathers

to force them to stop fighting and to elect a new pope.

Do you advise us to wait, Sir?

No.

Alas, it seems that time has stopped in Viterbo.

Only God knows when it shall start running again.

You must leave, return to your Khan.

Where will you stop first?

In Acre, on the coast of Galilee, Sir.

There is a holy man in Acre: Teobaldo Visconti of Piacenza.

Go to him. He represents the Pope in the Holy Land.

Pay my respects to him. He will help you.

Forgive me, Sir, but I fear the wrath of the great Khan Kublai,

when he sees us return without results, without a treaty,

and without those priests he expects from the Pope.

I ask myself and I ask you, our Doge,

whether it wouldn't be wiser to postpone the departure until…

Don't delay another moment. Go now.

Go with God.

For Venice and St Mark.

END OF EPISODE 1

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