Original subtitles

PAULO BRANCO PRESENTS

Based on the homonymous novel by

"This story is not my child, nor my godchild."

"It is not a work of fiction: It is a diary of suffering..."

There have been rumors of rioting in Campo Grande...

Stories of deaths and fires!

Riots to protest the arrival of British troops supporting Don Pedro.

It's not true! I, myself, went to see, and all was calm,

with no signs of bloodshed, nor troops.

Trustworthy accounts confirm the chaos of Don Pedro's troops landing in Minho.

Even more reliable witnesses guarantee that nothing really happened,

and that the naval fleet was forced to return to the Azores.

I was fourteen, and I didn't know who I was at all...

Children! Everyone inside! Lunch!

Sometimes the others would ask me if I was Father Dinis's son.

I didn't know how to answer them.

They all had surnames. Four or Eve, and some even more.

I was just Joao.

Unlike the others, I had no holidays, went on no outings, received no presents-

Do you think you're going to find your father in some book, Joao?

Because books don't talk about shoemakers, or thieves...

Or bastards. And you are a bastard!

The son of a thief or a shoemaker! If not, then why do they call you Joao?

Just Joao!

You're right. And you can keep the book, as a gift from me.

You need it more than I do. Maybe you'll end up learning to read.

I don't know how long passed between the time I lost consciousness...

and the moment I opened my eyes again. I thought I had dreamt it all.

It seemed there was someone in all my fevered visions.

And I wondered for a long time if that someone was real...

Good morning.

Are you feeling better?

Yes, you're feeling better.

What are you thinking about?

About the boy who offended my father.

Are you talking about Antonio Santos?

I know his father well. He's in prison.

A horse thief.

Think about it.

Antonio is a very unhappy boy.

I can't forgive him.

You can't?

Are you sure?

You said I should never lie.

I hate the boy who offended my father.

It's true.

Don't forget what I'm about to tell you:

We must be sincere with God, and among men, we must be loyal.

Joao struck Antonio, and he answered in return...

I'll keep this with me.

Now eat.

What's that?

A present a lady friend brought you tonight.

What lady friend?

A friend of Father Dinis.

Do you recognize?

Is it a horse?

My son...

It is quite late, Countess. We must go.

Make haste and have courage, my child.

And rest easy, he is in good hands.

She is my mother, isn't she?

A lady friend.

But you told me...

You shouldn't speak, Joao! You mustn't speak...

But she...

Remember what the doctor said.

Go on, get some rest. We'll talk later.

Neither Dona Antonia nor father Dinis helped to dispel my doubts

regarding that extraordinary visit.

Instead they were evasive and reticent.

Who was the first to study and observe dynamic physics?

Joao.

Galileo.

What is dynamic physics?

Dynamics is the branch of mechanics

that studies forces and the movements they themselves produce.

And what is force?

That which can alter the resting state or movement of a body, or distort it.

Dictation!

Father Dinis didn't want me to just meditate.

As soon as I recovered, he increased my lessons.

He forced me to reason, scientifically,

in order to distract me from sterile meditations about my enigmatic life...

It was...

in 1593,

period.

Rafael, silence!

Four years had gone by...

One day he told me to get dressed to go for a walk with him.

His order surprised me because it was a school day

and he'd never paid that kind of attention to me before...

Do you want to come see something?

Come, come!

It's my father...

Joao, that's enough.

Don't you want to play with me?

I can't.

Goodbye.

Show your respect.

It's her! The lady from the other night!

Quiet!

Do you want something?

No, sir. Just to rest.

But if we're bothering you, we'll leave.

Who was that lady?

Why did she come see me?

That lady is your mother.

I knew it as soon as I saw her! I was certain of it!

So, that man...

No. He's not your father. Your father is no longer living.

That man is your mother's husband.

Now don't ask me any more questions, because I won't answer.

Days later, they came to announce

that there was a man in the entrance hall asking to see me.

Master Joao, the son of my dear Lady, the son of that Saint!

I'm sorry, but who are you?

I am Bernardo, the Countess's manservant.

I came to deliver a letter,

but when my Lady said you were here,

I couldn't resist meeting you myself...

"My little knight."

If you only knew how much that soul has suffered for you...

So you must know her well! You can tell me everything.

Come. Let's go to my room. We'll be more comfortable.

That man is a tiger.

He had the Countess locked up for eight years.

Without seeing the sun or the moon!

Eight years...

So that's why she has come to see me now.

But why did the Count lock her up?

That's a good one!

It was because of you!

Because of me?!

But he doesn't know me...

He's never seen me.

But he knows that you exist.

He found out, or someone told him,

that the Countess had borne another man's child.

And that was enough for him. That beast!

And this man...

my father...

Did you know him?

I never had that pleasure.

But you know who he was?

Again, no. The one who knows all this is Father Dinis.

So you were here!

I've been looking for you for hours.

I brought him here.

It doesn't matter. Forget it.

Here is my reply to the Countess.

Be prudent.

Make sure she burns it after it has been read.

You may leave. Go with God.

May God watch over you, child.

When shall you return?

You will return, won't you?

If the Father allows...

We'll talk later.

You should go, the Countess is awaiting an answer.

Goodbye, child.

Your blessing, Father.

Here.

It's a letter from your mother.

It's not addressed to you, but I think it's time you knew

what a bitter life she has.

Read it and ask God to have mercy upon the person who wrote it.

The Count suspected it.

He wanted to wrench the secret from me of the two people

he had seen from the window

He locked me back in the room.

Then he placed a dagger over my heart.

I was certain he was going to kill me.

I begged for my life to be taken.

He spat in my face, while deciding not to kill me.

Was it cowardice?

Was it the pleasure of seeing me suffer?

Who told you to leave here?

Did I tell you to leave? I didn't tell you, did I?

Who told you to leave here?

Do you want me to shut you in here, is that it?

Is that what you want? Is that what you prefer?

Is that what you prefer? It is, isn't it?

On the floor, right now! On the floor, immediately!

On the floor!

Kill me!

But you want this don't you?

Kill me!

You want this, is that right?

You want me to kill you, is that it?

I beg you!

I'm begging you...

You're not going to leave here!

- You're not getting out of here! - Kill me!

Stop!

Don't do this!

Let me go!

And you, what are you doing here?

Get moving! Get out of here!

Get out of here now! Get out!

You've already been told not to leave your chambers!

Please!

My soul covered itself in a veil of sadness

the moment I read my mother's letter.

Every morning I would ask Father Dinis about hen

For months I had no news, neither good nor bad.

Bernardo!

What's going on? Has something happened?

The lady, your mother... The Count, the King... The Countess...

The what?... My mother what?... What did the Count do?

Now, Bernardo, easy, go on. Your mother wants to see you.

See me? Where? Did the Count let her go free?

The Count left. He went with the King. With the troops.

It seems Don Pedro's Liberals landed up North. In Minho.

His Majesty went to throw them all into the sea.

- The Count... - Left? The Count went away?

But then why didn't my mother come with you?

She wanted nothing else more than to come.

If she hadn't been ill...

She's ill?

It's nothing serious. Don't worry.

In any event, she is in bed and she wants you to go there.

I'm going right away!

Easy. Calm down, Joao. No rash actions.

Antonia, have them prepare the coach.

Forgive me for turning my back, it's just not good to see a manservant cry.

As the coach approached the little palace of Santa Barbara,

I was stuck between the fear that the sinister building filled me with,

and the joy of going to see my mother again.

But the idea that I might be able to take refuge in her arms,

ended up dispelling all fears.

Sit down.

You may come in.

Father Dinis. Please sit down.

It's strange for me to be receiving visitors.

I'm always...

afraid the Count might appear at any moment.

If the troops are as numerous as I've been told,

it's not likely the Count will return very soon.

They spoke of three ships filled with French and English mercenaries.

This war might last a lot longer than we all imagined.

May God hear you...

However long it lasts, it won't make up for the years I lost with my son...

Bernardo! Bernardo! See if it's her. Hurry!

"Her"?

"Her" who, Countess, if I'm not indiscrete?

Eugenia. The maid who lives with the Count.

The Count lives with a maid?

I say maid but,

in fact, I am the maid,

and she is the Lady.

She is in charge here. She decides everything.

It wasn't her, Countess. Just a quarrel between two kitchen girls.

She hasn't left the Count's room since he went away.

A good thing...

Perhaps I can breathe freely for another day or two.

After what I've seen and heard,

I can't leave you alone in this house.

But this is my house!

It's the only one I have.

Where would you have me go, Father Dinis?

He who sheltered the child can also shelter the mother.

Father Dinis, your generosity confounds me.

And it shames me. I'm not worthy of it.

Please allow me to be the judge of what you deserve.

But what will the rest of the world say?

Have you already thought of the slanders, the moral outrage?

The rest of the world is not under my jurisdiction, Countess.

I am accountable to a considerably higher power.

Please, mother, accept. This way I can see you every day.

Do you think it's possible? Do you think we can do it?

I think we must.

When?

Right away.

Bernardo!

Bring me my cape, please.

May I take a trunk?

Naturally.

I shall take it.

Thank you.

Let us go.

For my happiness to be complete,

I only needed to meet the other half of my story

I didn't dare ask my mother to talk about the father who was "no longer living",

as Father Dinis had put it.

I didn't want to torment her with the past that had made her suffer so much.

I was truly startled when I saw him...

Don't say anything to the other one. She can't know I am here.

I feel so happy, I could die without fear.

Mother. Don't speak any more of death. Promise me.

You're right, my son. I promise.

But there will come a day when, in this hell on earth,

the hope of death will be a paradise for those that are unhappy.

But you said you were happy!

And I am.

What are you afraid of, then?

Of the past, Pedro.

Of my past...

oh, My God!

What misfortune will befall upon us now?

The Count has returned, Countess.

Forgive the delay.

Bernardo.

The Count kicked me out on the street.

He didn't have to tell me twice. I packed my things and moved right away.

If you wish, you can always stay here, Bernardo.

Thank you, Father Dinis, I already have somewhere to stay.

You see, Countess, everything works out.

Your husband will leave Lisbon with the maid shortly. You are finally free.

Do you really think so?

You don't think the man won't use his authority

to snatch my son away from my own arms?

He might try. But first he'll have to discover where to find the Countess.

It won't be easy for him.

And if he succeeds?

If he does succeed, there are the means, even in this poor house,

to place Your Excellency and your son out of his reach,

some two thousand leagues from Lisbon.

Rest easy, Countess: God's blessing did not abandon Agar in the desert.

My child, that's quite enough tears. It's the time for smiles.

Think of your son.

Think of the future.

Father Dinis kept his reticent manner every time I touched on the matter.

But I insisted so much that one day..

Pedro!

Angela!

Pedro, I called you because your mother has authorized me to tell you

what you keep wanting to know, what you insisted to know.

Let's go to my office.

Angela!

It seems to me your mother is not feeling well.

Angela!

I didn't tell you before, because this story does not only belong to me.

I'm telling you now, because it also belongs to you.

The year you were born, a man came to this house and asked to see me...

- Joao, why aren't you writing? - I have no more ink!

Ink, Joao, is to be brought from home! Come here, you're going to be punished.

He was so pale and emaciated he seemed more like a corpse.

With as little noise as possible...

Father, there's a ghost out there!

Be seated!

Joao, go and sit down!

Help me here.

Silence!

My name is Pedro da Silva.

I am the second son of the Count of Alvaçoes.

As such, I am a poor man.

I'm a sort of bastard, but I was born from a legitimate marriage.

It's as if I was the son of a Shoemaker or a pig-keeper.

But my situation only became unbearable

the day I met a rather fateful woman.

The kind who carry in their first loving look either adventure or absolute disgrace.

The woman I loved was the daughter of the Marquis of Montezelos.

A second child, just like me.

And predestined, like myself to misfortune.

Deolinda!

What a fright!

Come in.

What is this?

Don't open it here, miss.

It's from the nobleman you saw yesterday. The one from church.

When?

This morning, at the market...

Be careful, miss. The Marquis has already returned from the guild.

Most Excellent Lady

Forgive my audacity in sending you this letter.

But nothing could keep me away from the gaze I discovered yesterday

and dreamed of today

Ever since I saw you in church

I could not rest until I knew to whom such enchantment belonged.

My minutes seem like hours.

My hours, like days.

This will endure until you have the kindness to receive me.

For this reason, without calculation and in all innocence,

I dare to ask you to relieve me from this torment.

Yours,

Pedro da Silva.

At first, Father, it was a dream without any repercussions.

A subtle drunkenness of the heart, without the delirium of the senses.

A truly burning desire for happiness,

without imagining what happiness should be for us...

If you'd care to rest a moment.

I'm sorry, no. It's nothing. Don't worry.

I would rather finish my story,

I don't wish to occupy any more of your time.

Later on, there was a shyness to our relationship. Blushing for no reason.

A lowering of the eyes in each ether's presence.

It was, in the end, a struggle between the heart and the head,

between innocence and calculation.

Between the sanctity of our affection and the demon of social convention.

We saw each other almost every day at the same place.

Enough to be sure that we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together.

Yes.

I had already sworn thus before you asked me.

I want to be yours.

In body and soul.

In life and in death.

I'm asking your father to allow me an audience with him today.

I'm afraid, Pedro, I'm afraid.

Afraid of what, my love?

Afraid of what?

When one is in love as we are, there's no reason to be afraid!

Right?

I love you so much...

Sir marquis...

Don Pedro.

Come.

You wanted to have a word.

And I received you out of deference to your present situation,

although I feel it would be best if you give up this charade.

But, Sir Marquis...

Believe me, it's better this way.

We can both avoid a rather embarrassing moment.

You, asking for my daughter's hand, and I, having to refuse you.

I shall only give my daughter away to the man who meets two conditions.

First: he has to prove to me that he is as noble as she is.

And second: he must be wealthy enough

to give her everything I have given her until now.

Your Excellency certainly satisfies the first condition.

However, the second, you do not.

My daughter is poor, Don Pedro da Silva. Your Excellency is poor.

And neither I, nor your father can steal from our firstborn children

to benefit the second.

Goodbye, Don Pedro. It was a great pleasure.

It's best if you leave through this garden, one never knows.

That is all.

Excuse me.

Angela, my girl!

Mother!

It's nothing.

Just dizziness, that's all.

From all the emotion.

Please continue, Father.

Don't worry about me. Please continue.

All right, I shall continue, but in your room.

You look tired.

I want you to rest.

Come, let's go, Countess. Let's go.

Curiously, Don Pedro felt ill at the same point in his tale.

I settled him on that very same sofa.

But he refused to rest until he had finished telling me his story.

I had really embarrassed myself

I was tempted to take revenge.

To make his face flush with shame! That father who had shamed me first.

But the struggle between pride and dishonor did not last long.

I decided to leave for America, where much gold had been found,

and where they had conquered the European notion of social status.

A place where they trade even human beings.

A place you later leave to get a diploma as an honest man in Portugal.

I'm leaving for America.

I'll kill myself.

- Angela! - If you leave, I'll kill myself.

My father will force me to marry someone else.

I'd rather die.

Angela, wait. Angela!

You're burning with a fever.

It's nothing. I've been like this for months. Don't worry.

I abandoned my plans,

of course.

I couldn't abandon her like that.

I was sure she would put into practice what she had threatened to do.

As a result of Deolinda's complicity

Angela began to receive me at home, every time her father was away.

We played silly games together and dreamt of an unexpected fortune

and of escaping to another land...

Young lady! Don Pedro! Hurry! It's the marquis!

At first, our meetings were pure, almost fraternal.

But little by little, the angel of innocence abandoned us.

And the impetuous voice of passion spoke louder.

And neither Angela nor I knew how to resist it.

Bastard.

No.

Don't cry, Mother...

Come, my girl, you must be strong.

I'm sorry. It is too strong for me...

When I heard those shots, I thought I was going to die!

My father had dismissed Deolinda, and had locked me in my room.

Let's stop for now. Let's let her rest.

No! Please, Father, I beg you to continue.

I beg you to continue, please.

I want my son to know who his father was.

I know I don't have the strength to tell him myself.

Please continue Father. I beg you to continue, for me.

Good morning.

What happened to me?

You lost consciousness, my friend.

No, no, no! Don't move.

You're in no condition to get up.

Can you move your arm?

No.

You haven't lost much blood.

The doctor will be back this afternoon to examine you again.

Now, eat. You need to regain your strength.

In the weeks that I lay between life and death,

the Marquis of Montezelos forced Angela to enter a convent.

You should rest assured that at least there she is protected.

No doubt, Father. But only a temporary protection.

Her father's intention was to have her removed from there

as soon as he arranged her a husband.

Which convent?

The convent is the reason that I came to see you.

I heard you had a sister in the same place.

The Convent of Nazaré...

Unfortunately I arrived too late.

The Marquis came to take her away two days ago.

For weeks, she remained in a very bad state.

She cried all day, the poor thing.

And she didn't trust any one of us.

Not even the prelate could reach her.

Do you know where they took her?

Home, I suppose.

But I can find out, if you want.

Then find out.

I fear the worst, Antonia.

For her, and for the other life she carries in her bosom.

Most Holy Virgin!

May God protect her!

It's from Miss Antonia! She said it's urgent.

Thank you.

You may go.

My sister Antonia told me that the Marquis of Montezelos

had secretly sent his daughter to a ranch he owns about 25 leagues from Lisbon.

Good morning, brother!

Might there be a drop of water to give these poor beasts?

We'll pay, of course.

They haven't drunk since sunrise.

They're dying of thirst.

This isn't a public drinking place.

And I am no brother to any gypsy.

Go on, keep moving on your way.

There's a stream down there. Less than two leagues away.

The water is free of charge. And the information as well.

Be well.

Thank you, brother.

Have a swig, to compensate for our inconvenience.

It's the good stuff.

It may not quench your thirst, but it'll give you a kick.

If I don't drink, you're going to think I'm being arrogant.

That is the good stuff!

If you want more, just come around.

I'll be up there, on Mule Mountain, beyond the tree grove.

Just ask for me: Sabine Cabra.

I might come visit, you never know...

If I get thirsty and I have the urge...

My name is Heliodoro. But everyone knows me as Knife-Eater.

The name isn't that pretty, but it fits the person that I am.

I'll wait to see you there. Stay in peace.

Oh, it's you! You scared me, man. I didn't hear you coming.

People only hear me coming when I want them to.

Sit down.

Are you alone?

Better alone...

That's right.

I was going to eat. Will you join me?

It's meat. Some people don't like it.

Stones are the only thing I don't eat.

But this horse business, does it work or not?

It's working out.

To be honest, my friend Heliodoro...

Call me Knife-Eater!

Otherwise I'll think you're talking to someone else.

Knife-Eater, my friend.

Let's just say if I sold only the ones I buy and the ones I raise,

you might well say that I would die of hunger.

But counting on others, I can't complain.

Which "others"?

The ones I End...

Where?

Wherever...

The ones you "find"!

What about you?

More or less like you.

Like me?

Like this: I made a treaty with the marquis down there...

The one with the farm.

When he has a problem, I solve it for him.

And it works out for you?

Yes.

It's better than walking around planting seeds in the ground.

Which is what I used to do...

Right now I have a special job from him.

And this one is going to be a real piece of work, seriously...

A special one...

It's the Marquis' daughter.

No!

His actual daughter!?

The girl is... you know...

And the father's unknown.

The finer they are, the more they're like goats.

Unless it is... No offense...

And so?

And so? The baby's a bastard, man!

But it's almost born, almost.

And when it's born, two shovelfuls of dirt and it's all over.

At that age, it doesn't have an age at all.

Nor a size! Not even a sin!

Just a tiny grain of sand... in this entire desert...

When it comes out: Whoosh! It will go straight to Heaven.

Was it me? Was I the bastard?

In the eyes of the Lord, there are no bastards, nor second children.

We are all firstborn.

But I was the one he was supposed to kill?

What are you doing here?

The Marquis doesn't like visitors.

Luckily, he's not here, but he might have been.

Good morning, brother.

I already told you I'm not your brother.

It's not from drinking two glasses together that we're now the same blood.

What do you want?

I came here to make you a business proposition.

A business proposition?

What business?

I don't buy or sell horses and I don't steal them, either.

What about bastards?

What did you say? What is that all about?

You told me yourself, last night.

You shouldn't drink.

Lower your voice, you fool! What else did I tell you?

Isn't there a place where we can speak in peace?

What I want to propose shouldn't be done here.

Come on, then.

Thank you, brother.

Sit down over there.

What's that?

Open it.

Count them.

I have just as many more on me.

If it's more than the Marquis gives you, then the bastard is mine.

The bastard is yours?

Why do you want it?

What purpose does it serve you?

That's up to me. Don't worry.

But if you're not interested in the deal...

Hey, hold on!

Who said I wasn't interested?

There must be around 40 coins here!

Eighty, counting the ones I have on me.

But that's a lot of money!

He's worth that much?

To you, he's worth it.

And you avoid having one more crime on your conscience.

Come on, decide! I have the horses waiting.

It's decided.

Forty it is then, brother.

Bread, sausage, brother.

He sold me to Father Dinis, is that it?

Who?

The gypsy. That animal.

He saved my life...

He bought me from the assassin, and sold me to Father Dinis.

It was like that, wasn't it?

No, it wasn't quite like that.

But the story has gone on for too long now, and it's late.

Your mother is exhausted. Come on, we'll let her rest.

Sleep well, mother.

I doubt it, my son.

But just knowing you're nearby will make my insomnia more bearable.

Good night, Father Dinis.

Good night, Countess.

Can I ask you one more question, Father?

It's the last one, I swear.

What about my father?

God allowed your father to see his son and kiss him before leaving.

He died two days after you arrived in this house.

He was still able to dictate a letter for the Countess,

in which he declared that the boy was safe and sound.

He left this world with your mother's name on his lips.

He was a just and virtuous man who was unfortunate.

Don't be embarrassed in being his son.

Now go to sleep!

Tomorrow eight o'clock. Botany.

You know I don't like you to be late.

See you tomorrow, Father.

Before leaving Lisbon with Eugenia,

the Count of Santa Barbara told everyone

that my mother had abandoned him for another man.

Within the upper social circles of Lisbon,

my mother became the ignoble topic of conversation

in the salons and city squares.

She's even my cousin, imagine that!

Two or three times removed, in truth, but regardless to say...

- I heard that the man is a priest. - My God! What a shameful thing.

It seems that even before she was married she...

Alas, what is certain is that her father,

the poor Marquis of Montezelos, my father's distant cousin,

forced her to enter a convent, before arranging her a husband.

What do you suppose was the reason?

The reason is that she was... You know...

It was the Count of Santa Barbara himself who told my husband...

Poor man.

Apparently tears came to his eyes. He's an absolute mess.

I heard that he even left Lisbon altogether.

He left to join the troops of King Don Miguel, in Minho.

In the condition I saw him,

I wouldn't be surprise if he did something foolish.

Who is that tall gentleman, Marquise?

I never saw him here before.

And he has a foreign air about him.

The Brazilian.

His name is Alberto de Magalhaes.

They say he's the bastard son of King Don Joao VI

and an attendant of Queen Dona Maria.

If one look's closely, in fact, the lower lip is just like the Braganças.

What is certain is that not long ago he came from Brazil

and that he has money to burn.

To me, as far as I can tell, he's a liberal. A spy for Don Pedro.

And that his fortune will only allow him

to bring down the court and the altar as well.

That is what they told my husband, from a trustworthy source.

Neither royal bastard, nor liberal spy, my dear ladies.

I am sorry to disappoint you, but my information is trustworthy.

Your Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes got rich in the ignoble slave trade.

And nowadays, he maintains his fortune through piracy.

How horrible! Could it actually be possible?

I've already heard those rumors, Don Martinho.

And I don't believe them.

My husband would never have agreed to receive a man of that ilk.

Would you be so kind as to bring me my handkerchief, Don Martinho?

I left it on that table.

Certainly.

What are you smiling about, Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes?

Can you tell me?

About you Your Excellency, Countess.

About me?

Or people in general, if your prefer, Countess.

I do not understand.

Neither do I.

I thought about what Your Excellency had said a moment ago

about the Countess of Santa Barbara.

And that makes you smile?

That the poor Countess of Santa Barbara

is the "shame of the Portuguese nobility"?

Does Your Excellency think we should all take this so seriously?

I did not ask for your...

I do not ask your opinion, sir.

I only ask for the respect of not laughing at my opinion.

You ask too much of me, Your Excellency.

It's difficult not to laugh at something so laughable.

This is an insult!

To the Countess, I say it's not.

To Your Excellency, I say interpret it as you wish.

I take it as a provocation!

And I feel I have the right to demand some explanations!

You do not have to touch me, Don Martinho de Almeida.

Nonsense like that can be spoken from a distance.

Pardon me, Your Excellency,

but you have a note at your feet.

If it's not from your husband,

it might be an outrage to the principles you yourself proclaim!

Dear Friend, I wait impatiently for the moment

when I can hold you tightly in my arms again.

Don Martinho de Almeida instructed us to ask Your Excellency:

With whom we should negotiate the conditions of the duel.

With me.

Your Excellency, forgive me, but that is not standard practice.

You must subject yourself to the conditions that are imposed

by two gentlemen whom you trust.

That is precisely why I do not concede to anyone.

I am the one who imposes obligations of honor.

I am in full use of my capacities.

I answer for myself: I do not fight.

You don't fight? You don't fight?

No.

Have you seriously considered the consequences of this decision?

What consequences?

The risk of an unexpected encounter, which could be fatal...

I assume that risk.

Is that all?

No, no.

I haven't yet wished you a very nice day.

Good morning, boss.

Good morning Mr. Joao.

Mr. Paulo, Mr. Raul.

That was not the case with Father Dinis.

He had also heard the rumors that were spreading through Lisbon.

Without saying a word to my mother,

he presented a case against the Count of Santa Barbara

at the court which deals with abuse, and punishes slanderers.

He called for justice, and that the Count prove his slanderous claim, or recant.

Informed that the Count had taken ill during the journey

and was convalescing in an Inn in Santarem,

father Dinis didn't hesitate to take a trip there,

accompanied by a bailiff and a registrar.

He was determined to put an end, without delay

to the offense inflicted on the honor of his protege.

I am sorry, gentlemen, but the Count is in no condition to receive visitors.

This isn't a visit, dear sir.

This is a matter of judicial diligence.

Forgive me, Father, but wouldn't it be better

to wait for a more auspicious moment?

No, Registrar.

The person I represent has already waited far too long.

Count,

this gentleman is the Registrar of the Third Order,

and this other one is the bailiff.

They have been empowered with a diligence,

to be collected from Your Excellency.

Diligence?! Third Order?! What is this all about?

I don't owe anything to anyone.

This is not about a debt, Count.

Your Excellency, forgive me. I come involuntarily to charge you.

I was sent here at the request of the Countess of Santa Barbara.

What does that woman want from me?

She wants the Count to respect her honor.

Who are you, sir?! I know you. I've seen you before!

You've seen me, indeed.

But where? Where have I seen you?

You saw me in front of your house. In the garden.

Yes, yes, with a little boy... I remember well. But before that?

It was before, long before...

It's possible.

It will come back to me.

I'll remember.

I don't understand.

What do you have to do with this matter, with the court, and its jurisdiction?

I am here in the capacity of protector of the Countess of Santa Barbara.

I am the vigilant sentinel of her honor and I can point out,

without hesitation, that I protect your honor as well, Your Excellency.

For my honor! You're mocking me, Father.

No, no. I am not mocking you.

I know that Your Excellency was not the only one

who was responsible for the misfortunes of the Countess.

And I also know that you were a puppet

in the hands of her father, the Marquis of Montezelos.

You know that? You know that?

So, I was right.

We have seen each other before.

I know you!

It's possible.

Eugenia. Gentlemen.

I beg you to leave me for a moment with the priest.

Eugenia, you may leave.

I will sign anything you want.

But first, I must speak with him alone.

Would you leave, please?

Sit down.

I am sorry. I feel like I'm suffocating.

What did the doctor say?

That this is an extraordinary case, and he delays his diagnosis,

because he wants to consult his colleagues.

In other words: he doesn't know.

But let us forget about all that.

It's strange, I have such a strong impression that I know you,

but I am not able to remember.

You mean to say you're aware the Marquis of Montezelos was my tutor?

I am.

You're right, it's true. He treated me like a puppet.

I was practically a child. Frivolous, foolhardy.

I only thought about racing dogs and Arabian horses.

He spoke to me of his daughter.

He wanted to introduce her to me.

I had heard a vague story about a convent...

I resisted him.

I would invent excuses.

The last thing on my mind was getting married.

One day he took me to the Ball of the Count of Colares.

She was a fascinating figure, a mixture of richness and beauty that

completely astonished me.

This is the latest fashion in the salons. Dancing African Lunduns.

Is it also a fashion to go around pointing fingers?

My butler is the culprit, he is a deaf-mute.

The poor man can't say anything so he points instead.

Now, everyone points. It seems to be fashion.

But it is very ugly, is it not?

If it's the fashion, it's the fashion.

Do you really think so?

You'll see the good it does you. Just for one night,

trading horses and dogs for men in elegant clothes and beautiful women.

Something happened? Are you feeling all right?

Who is that woman talking to those two ladies over there?

Do you know her?

That's my daughter, Angela. You've never seen her?

I don't believe so.

At least I've never seen her with the eyes I have today.

I was just about to introduce you. Come.

I don't feel well, Father.

I wanted to ask for your permission to retire...

Angela! You promised me.

You don't feel well because you're all alone here.

I've brought you just the right company.

The Count of Santa Barbara.

A dear friend. And an admirer of yours.

Good. Well, I'll leave you two to get acquainted.

The company of old people isn't healthy for the young.

Don't make me look bad.

So long. Enjoy yourselves.

Don't you like dancing?

It doesn't really speak to me anymore.

I don't even know if I still know how.

I never knew...

But I know how to hunt boar and ride without a saddle...

Do you like horses? I have two thoroughbreds.

I brought them from Marrakesh. They cost me an arm and a leg.

They're the most elegant horses in all of Lisbon.

I'd like you to see them, but I don't allow anyone to ride them.

But for you, young lady, I might be convinced to allow.

If it pleases you, of course.

You should not be interested in me, Count.

You shouldn't.

My heart is dead.

It's too late, Angela. My heart already belongs to you.

- It's been yours since I first saw you. - Don't say that.

Don't do that.

You can't...

I can't. I Can't!

Seen from close up, the heart increased in value

what it had lost in the caliber of her eyes.

She was a woman to be seen, but she was more to be loved...

So, you talked?

Your daughter, Marquis, isn't much for conversation.

Don't tell me she didn't talk to you.

Obviously, I don't interest her.

That nonsense! Of course you interest her.

I'm going to get to the bottom of this.

She had a shrine of lost love in her soul.

And they turned it into a cup of bile...

What?

I'm talking about Angela de Lima, Count of Santa Barbara.

They turned the love she had in her soul into a cup of bile.

Do you also want to place yourself into the heart of that unhappy girl?

Leave her, Count.

The memory of a first love, the corpse of the first man she loved,

marked her existence with longings that your passion can't compete against.

Leave her, for pity's sake.

Don't buy her from her father, because you're buying a dead slave.

But who are you,

how did you know?

It doesn't matter. I am a friend.

Everything is cleared up, dear Count.

A passing indisposition. A misunderstanding.

Go. She is waiting for you to excuse herself.

Don't make her wait! She'll think you're still bitter.

Count. Father.

I am sorry, but this isn't good for the patient's condition...

Get him out of here.

Tell him to leave us in peace.

Please, Doctor.

If I need you, I will call you.

Please, Doctor.

When I returned to Angela's side, I found her docile and cheerful.

But the smile was forced and her docility was really just her resignation.

I didn't want to see it then, but now I see it much clearer.

She accepted my courtship with a certain obedience.

I wanted her to accept me of her own free will,

and pretended not to see the iron hand of her father,

who constrained her in the shadows.

I heard only my own feelings,

my selfishness,

instead of opening my ears to that man,

the unknown man who had approached me at the Ball.

You never saw him again?

Once. Only once.

On the eve of my marriage to Angela de Lima.

I had gone to finalize the preparations for the ceremony

when I had the unusual yet irrepressible impulse,

to ask God to bless our union.

And I recognized his voice immediately..

I see you haven't followed my advice, Count of Santa Barbara.

I lament that.

For you and, principally, for her.

This marriage will cause the disgrace of Angela de Lima, and you, too.

If you can't find happiness in being her executioner,

you too shall be disgraced.

A disgrace with no cure.

But who are you, sir?

How can you say such a thing?

What is your name?

Everything he told me, happened...

I tried to find out who he was...

They told me his name was Sebastiao de Melo.

They told me the most contradictory things about him.

I looked for him.

But no one ever saw him again.

He magically disappeared.

Naturally, he died.

No, he didn't die. But it was as if he had.

Did you know him?

I knew him.

It's not possible!

Everything is possible.

That look!

That voice!

I knew I had seen you before!

Sebastiao de Melo!

Father Dinis Ramalho e Sousa.

The world now knows me by this name.

I have asked you to come, Eugenia,

because I wanted you to bear witness to my penance.

This is the declaration I am prepared to sign, Mr. Registrar:

I have dishonored myself by insulting the Countess of Santa Barbara, my wife.

I wanted her to pay for the sins of her father,

the Marquis of Montezelos,

and so I gave her, for fifteen years, a life of incredible bitterness.

I invented torturous methods to humiliate her self-esteem,

and made attacks upon her dignity.

I brought her close to the grave, and when I saw her run away,

I was indignant that the victim hadn't let me extract her last whimper,

without society hearing it.

The Countess of Santa Barbara ran away just days ago, from her home.

I presumed that she had gone to count her lashes,

which nobody could imagine.

I wanted to justify one disgrace with another.

I accused her of adultery In truth, if her honor is stained,

it is due to my perversions,

and the contact I forced her into with a man

of degenerate instincts that dishonor the name of my forefathers.

Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes!

I told you the other day

that your ethics have imposed your duty to give an explanation.

You told me.

I sent you two "seconds". You refused the proposal of a duel.

I refused.

Do I thus understand that, in counterpoint,

you propose to make your amends?

You misunderstood.

In that case, Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes,

I must consider you a coward.

You are a Coward!

You are a coward, Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes!

You are a Coward!

Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes is a coward!

You are a coward! Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes!

Easy!

- Easy! Easy! - You are a coward!

You are a coward! You are a coward, Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes!

What happened, sir?

An uproar here between two nobles.

One of them called the other a coward and tried to shoot him.

So, the other one grabbed him and sent him through the air like a feather.

But what a spectacle!

And do you know what it was about?

One of the nobles with him had mentioned

it was over some Countess or Vice Countess of Santa Barbara.

Did you say the Countess of Santa Barbara?

Or Vice Countess, I'm not precisely certain.

Did you hear either of their names? These fighting nobles?

One of them talked of... Alberto de Magalhaes.

And this one, Alberto, headed toward the other one...

I didn't hear what they were talking about very well.

The unknown man who courageously took up my mother's defense,

was that mysterious correspondent who called himself Alberto de Magalhaes.

He tried to deflect revelations about the son

who had been ripped from her arms at birth.

And would become the most enigmatic celebrity in Lisbon.

And yet, Father Dinis was not one to leave a puzzle unsolved.

What comes around goes around, my dear. Do you see?

Disgrace has tired itself out.

Thanks to you, Father Dinis.

I could never repay you for what you did for me and for my son. Never.

No, my child. You owe me nothing.

I did no more than repair a tiny part

of the evil the world has done to you.

And the Count?

Now that he has had his penance,

won't he want my mother to return home?

No, no. Have no fear.

The Count is in no position to demand anything at all.

He hardly dares beg you to forgive him.

If he doesn't oblige me to return, I will forgive him!

I will forgive him with all my heart!

Would you agree to make this statement in Santarem?

His condition is quite poor.

He fears he may not be able to return to Lisbon.

And he despairs at the thought of dying

without hearing from your lips that you forgive him.

No, mother, don't agree! Don't go!

I must agree my son.

Otherwise, I'll regret it my whole life.

Won't you follow me there?

That's perfectly understood.

When?

Tomorrow at dawn.

I wanted to ask you, Countess:

Alberto de Magalhaes,

does that name mean anything to you?

Yes, I saw it in writing once.

Where?

On a note a gentleman gave Bernardo to deliver to me.

What did this note say, if I am not being too indiscreet?

Something about the secret of my son's birth...

I confess, I attached no importance to it at the time.

I thought it was one more of the Count's intrigues to torment me.

I threw it in a trunk and never thought of it again.

But the name on the signature, yes...

Yes. It was Alberto de Magalhaes...

Why do you ask, Father Dinis?

Because I was told yesterday that a man with that name

fought another man, on your behalf.

On my behalf? About what?

I don't know, Countess. But we must find out.

You must show me that note when we return to Lisbon.

Countess, allow me to introduce you to the Circuit Judge.

I know it is late, Countess, but if Your Excellency desires

I can call witnesses to proceed with the opening of the will...

No, Your Honor, please spare me.

I understand. As you wish. I am at your disposal.

I am Friar Baltasar da Encarnaçao.

And I was here during the Count's final moments

I have a letter to deliver to the Countess.

Countess.

Friar Baltasar da Encarnagao,

he spent the final moments with the Count.

If you'll allow me to explain, Your Excellency...

I promised your husband

that I would personally deliver this letter to you.

He dictated it to me with his last breath,

and he signed it himself with his last bit of strength.

My heart tells me you will come too late.

And when you come, if you come, my body will already be cold,

my eyes will already be closed,

and my ears will already be deaf to the forgiveness from your lips.

Don't curse me, Angela.

A man who promises me your forgiveness is by my side.

And a just man who will tell you to forgive me is by your side.

Listen to both of them!

Save me and may the world curse the memory of the Count of Santa Barbara.

I die with your Visage etched upon my heart.

I was right to have objected to their journey.

When my mother returned, she was someone else.

What is going on? Why won't she speak to me?

The Count is dead, my son.

Your mother has been greatly affected.

She hardly slept.

Come. I have serious things to tell you.

What I am about to tell you will probably make you suffer.

But think of your mother.

You can be certain that her suffering is infinitely greater than yours.

Think of her.

The Count of Santa Barbara made your mother his sole heir.

She has refused the inheritance.

She thinks she has no right to the fortune

of the man she never considered nor accepted as her husband.

She did the right thing!

This inheritance would be dishonorable.

That is what she thinks, as well.

Simply put, her refusal now leaves her without the means

to live according to her accustomed status.

As your grandfather, the Marquis of Montezelos,

had said to your father, your mother is poor.

A lady of her background, with no fortune

and without a husband, has no place in the world she knows.

But, alas, she has me. She has a son!

A year or two from now I will be able to End a...

I don't know, a mentor!

I could be a mentor! I could teach...

A year or two from now, maybe...

Three or four, more likely.

But in the meantime, you must admit you are more of a burden for your

mother than anything else.

And so?

So your mother has decided to enter a convent.

No!

It's the only reasonable solution.

And, beyond that, it corresponds with your mother's wish

to retire from the world that has made her suffer so much,

and to respect the memory of the Count of Santa Barbara...

What about me?

I just found my mother, only to lose her again?

I know it's not fair, my son.

But I can only repeat what I said a little while ago.

Think of her.

Think of her spirit,

after all these torments that she has been through.

Think of your mother.

Goodbye, my lady.

God be with you.

Good luck.

Pedro... Pedro!

Come on.

Our men there boarded three Spanish ships.

Silks and porcelain. There was no resistance at all.

I've calculated our take at one hundred and twenty thousand!

Silk has become scarce.

And in the Baltic?

No news. It's early.

What about Panama?

One boarding, but of no real interest.

The business in Peru is almost finished.

Go on. You can come in.

The priest is here to see you, Your Excellency.

I always thought you would end up entering a religious order!

Have him come into the salon.

You'll wait for me here?

It is pointless. I had already finished.

They are waiting for me at the guild.

Leave through the garden. You never know...

Is it with Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes that I have this honor?

Don't you recognize me?

Should I?

Well, I recognize you.

It seems like yesterday...

Even after all these years and with that cassock...

By the way,

is the cassock real?

Or is it more of a disguise?

I'm sorry, I don't understand your intended irony.

Of what disguise do you speak?

The disguise of a gypsy.

His name was Sabine Cabra...

How do you know?

Where did you hear it?

Only two men knew that name.

One died, and the other...

The other called himself Knife-Eater!

Have I changed that much, Mr. Sabine Cabra?

The cat is to be placed there!

Come on, quickly!

I want this done quickly! Now leave!

I'm sorry.

The money you gave me changed my life.

It freed my spirit.

It opened me up to knowledge.

The path of knowledge, of science.

Of free will!

This pot is going on that side! Come on, quickly!

I want everyone working! Come on! Such incompetence!

I'm sorry.

But that's enough of my speech.

I'm not going to tell you how Knife-Eater

transformed himself into Alberto de Magalhaes.

It would be long and tedious.

But I am also not going to ask how a gypsy transformed himself into a priest.

But I am somewhat curious as to

whether the son of Angela de Lima is alive.

He is. Thanks to God, he is.

Relieved to hear it.

Sincerely relieved.

I would like to see him.

You may.

But preferably without being seen.

I don't wish to explain the circumstances

under which I saw him for the last time.

I understand.

You know...

at times I think I actually did what I had intended to do.

It gives me the cold sweats.

I will never be able to repay you, Father.

I am already paid in full, Mr. Alberto de Magalhaes.

We settled all our accounts today.

Accounts, yes, accounts!

I would like to entrust you with the sum that had saved the boy's life.

So that you can use to his benefit.

It was once the price of his blood. It is only fair that he gets it back.

Careful with the Bust!

Let's get going, hurry up!

I want the candlesticks on that side!

I want everyone working!

Today!

This mission pleases me, and I accept.

What are you doing here?

Get outside!

And quickly!

Gentlemen,

we're done for today.

Thank you very much.

Thank you...

Oh, I almost forgot! All of your husband's wishes were fulfilled.

With the exception of the sum left to Eugenia, his maid.

Why?

She didn't want to accept it.

She told me she hadn't sold herself to the Count of Santa Barbara

while he was alive, let alone sold herself to him after his death.

I didn't expect that of her.

Could I have been mistaken about her?

Days later, I met her in a carriage.

She stopped the horses, called me to the window,

and gave me her address in Praça da Alegria.

He invited me to visit him.

And you're going?

One of these days.

The mystery is provocative...

Oh, another thing: Tomorrow I can't come.

I'm leaving for Santarem.

Does it still have to do with the death of the Count?

Indirectly. The count's Confessor, remember, the monk?

He asked me to visit him.

Will you please tell my sister?

Your sister? Dona Antonia?

As far as I know,

Sebastiao de Melo had no sisters...

Didn't he?

Another secret?

You'll get your answer later.

I beg you to continue to consider her as my sister.

You'll tell her?

Rest assured.

End of part one.

Second part.

Father. Father!

If you only knew how anxiously and impatiently I've been waiting for you!

I was uncertain about writing to the Countess...

With what intention?

With the intention of spending a few hours

to help an old monk.

But I've gone on and on and you must be dying of hunger and thirst

after such a journey, Father!

Come. Come.

The monk in charge has left us the pick of his chicken coop.

As a special treat!

The capon is divine, you'll see...

Baked, with baby potatoes.

And the monastery wine?

Renowned! You'll see.

I'm not that much of an eater and drinker.

I was. But I'm afraid I've lost the habit and the taste.

Bad! That's bad.

They're the blessings of the Lord

it's our duty to honor them.

We, more than anyone else, as His true servants...

But in the present case,

I must confess that my references to the menu

are a secondary issue.

What do you mean?

I have a long story to tell you.

My story.

I've never told it to anyone.

During my long tale you will surely ask yourself

why I am telling you these things.

You will understand, once and for all, why.

Accept that I'll keep you quiet for now.

I was born in Minho.

My father was from a noble family, older than the kings of this land...

I was born with bad instincts and was freely educated.

They issued me carte blanche to freely dispose of the gold

with which I prodigiously indulged my immoralities.

All of this ended

when I saw the Countess of Viso for the first time.

It was my cousin, Paulo, my best and most loyal friend,

almost like a brother,

who took me one night to a gala held by the Count,

her husband...

The baroness would have bitten you if she could have...

What did you do to her?

I couldn't take it any longer.

I broke it off with her.

She wouldn't give in.

Tears, screams, howls. Unbearable.

I wrote to her husband.

You wrote to him!? Saying what?

That I had been his wife's lover.

And the lie:

That I had broken it off because I found it hard to deceive him.

You wrote that to him?!

Literally.

And I stressed that the woman would not let me go,

and that it was now up to him, the husband, to take her in hand.

No! What did he do?

I don't know, but she left me in peace.

Alvaro, you are truly unique!

No, Paulo, I'm not.

I'm bored with myself.

Bored, but why?

I'm twenty-three years old, Paulo. Twenty-three!

And in twenty-three years I've never known the thrill of a noble passion.

Noble passion!

That doesn't even sound like you, cousin.

With all the women that you...

With all the women I've thrown into dishonor.

No, that you threw or they threw themselves.

Don't tell me you're feeling remorse. Is that it?

No, it's not that...

Not one of them weighs on my conscience.

What weighs on me is that not one of them inspired true affection in me.

Be careful, the Count is a jealous man...

And a man of arms!

And the Countess has everything that can cause a man to lose himself.

Yes, an almost pilgrim-like beauty, and they say she has a rich spirit.

For the love of such a woman, I could become my friend's assassin...

If the condition of my power were such.

What a look!

A look that says: retreat, you wretched man!

It's not just the Countess who is looking at you...

Didn't I tell you he was jealous?

Count.

They tell me that we share feelings for the same person,

Don Alvaro de Albuquerque.

It isn't always appropriate to put faith in what people say, Count.

How so?

Was it not your father who died

in the dungeons of the Castle of S. Joao da Foz, near here?

Just some ten years ago?

It was eleven, Count. Eleven years ago.

Eleven years ago.

So they hadn't misinformed me then.

Not by the look of things.

If you'll excuse me...

But, in fact, I'm sorry, Count.

To whom does this sentiment that we share refer?

- Did you perchance know my father? - No. Unfortunately.

I did not have that honor.

I was referring to the man responsible for his death.

The Count of Oeiras?

Was it not the torture of this butcher of a man

that led to you losing your father?

It was also thanks to his intrigues with His Majesty

that I was removed from the Palace.

I shall never forgive him.

Nor shall I, believe me.

I've waited eleven years for this happy moment

where I can alleviate my rancor with the spilled blood

of the Marquis of Pombal.

Holy words, my friend, Holy words!

Friends throughout life and throughout death!

This house is yours.

I will take full pleasure in keeping my door open to you,

both by day and by night!

Music, Music.

The friendship of the Count in no way altered the iciness of the Countess.

Her indifference, silent and impassable, was like a sarcastic jab at my vanity...

She was my first passion,

and I fed it with generous tears.

Alvaro...

That was my name back then,

but let's not get ahead of ourselves.

I will tell you everything at the appropriate time.

Until that evening I had never met the Countess face to face.

What happened? Who is going to travel?

The Count, sir. His Majesty died yesterday

Don Alvaro.

I was going to send someone to advise you.

We are going to have to move our little game.

Don José is dead.

Her Highness, Dona Maria called me to the Palace

to attend the tribute and has named me a Knight of the Royal Chamber!

Good, which means that the Marquis...

now has his days numbered.

Her Highness loathes him more than the two of us together, man!

Where are you going in such a hurry?

I'm going to get a Port wine I've had in the house for fifteen years,

that's been waiting for this very occasion!

There is plenty of time for that, man.

First, I wanted to ask you a favor. From one friend to another...

Tell me, only if I'm unable to...

You're able. Just willing to is enough.

I would like you to give two words of consolation to the Countess...

But isn't the Countess going with you?

What a thought, Don Alvaro!

You know that women, in these political matters, are an obstacle.

The Countess sat down, and she was offended. Well, you know...

Who better than my friend to explain it to her?

It's just that I don't have the time. Nor the talent.

I am a man of arms, not words,

I have no knack whatsoever for speeches.

Well, but will the Countess listen to me?

She hears just fine so why wouldn't she listen?

Women melt with beautiful words.

Thank you, my friend.

And don't let the Countess embarrass herself any further.

Strike the iron while it's hot.

I'm dying to see the face of the Marquis

being run out of the Palace with a swift foot to the seat of his pants!

Well they're wrong!

The Count is wrong, and so is his lawyer.

It's not about vanity.

Nor about wounded self-esteem.

What hurts me is the lack of consideration.

It's being treated like a...

like a ridiculous obstacle.

I'm delighted you find me amusing, Don Alvaro.

Especially when I'm not trying to be funny.

I am afraid you have mistaken me, Countess.

I am not the Count's lawyer,

nor does my smile carry the intention you have attributed it.

It was the word "obstacle" that made me smile.

It was the same word the Count used just now.

He referred to me as an obstacle?

No, not personally.

He spoke of women in general.

You know the Count carries his heart in his mouth. He is a soldier.

He has the rude frankness of a soldier. He has no style. No pretense.

Is that the case?

But the truth is, either in general or in particular,

you think my role is not by his side in the Palace,

but here as your servant in this place of exile!

You certainly think like he does.

No. Not in any way.

I don't think your place is here.

And even less as a servant.

Why?

You hardly know me.

I know you well enough, Silvina,

To guess, to see beyond appearances,

all your desires and anxieties.

The Countess could tell...

stifled dreams...

She knew only too well... that I adored her.

She would fight against her heart, denying its impulses...

But she was weak.

Am I really so transparent?

As weak as every woman who fights two powerful enemies:

The indifference of her husband...

and the most loving warmth of desire.

She gave in to it.

They all give in in the end, Father Dinis, when the lover's patience takes

advantage of the husband's impatience.

God in heaven! It's daytime!

Alvaro! Alvaro!

For the love of God, wake up! It's already daytime!

Alvaro! Alvaro!

Such a shame.

You're going to have to hide me here until night time.

That's impossible!

They're bound to want to clean up...

Oh my God! Someone is coming!

Yes, what is it?

Forgive me, Countess, a letter has arrived from the Count. It is urgent.

Do you not feel well, Countess?

No, I slept poorly. Don't interrupt me again unless I call.

Alvaro! Please...please.

He wants you to go to him.

Right now. Today. "Come at once".

Why this hurry?

He doesn't say...

But like this, suddenly, after three months...

He knows.

Impossible. We were so careful.

How could he know?

He knows.

Someone told him. Someone must have seen us.

No, Alvaro, you're right.

I can't go to be with him...

Better to die. Better to kill myself!

No!

Better to live!

The two of us. Far away from here. In France or Italy. It doesn't matter.

But the two of us. Together.

Run away?!

With what? How?

When?

I'll sell everything I own here.

Two days are all I need.

Two days from now we'll be in Spain.

Three days later, we can be in Venice.

But the two of us! Free!

We crossed half of Europe as if in a dream.

To Spain, France, the north of Italy.

We only stopped in Venice.

We spent months of supreme happiness there.

But in the shadows, and with no signs as to excite curiosity in us,

we were without a country.

There wasn't a single hint that could give away our identity as outsiders.

Until the day Silvina told me she was carrying a child.

Quite soon, however, the event that should have crowned our happiness,

now threatened it's very existence.

How are you?

How is she?

How do you expect her to be?

I don't understand.

You knew the risk you were running...

Risk? What risk, doctor?

She didn't tell you?

What was she supposed to have told me?

She didn't tell you.

The physiological constitution of the lady...

The what? What does she have? What constitution?

The doctors had advised her...

They said nothing to you?

When she married, they warned her: Childbirth could be fatal for her...

Fatal!?

Don't despair. Science sometimes works miracles.

Come with me, come see her.

Alvaro.

My God, I am going to die!

No. I won't leave Silvina!

Why didn't you tell me?

I didn't want to...

- You should have told me! - I didn't want to frighten you...

I thought, with time the doctors might...

Come on, be strong!

Now leave. Let us work.

Be strong!

I thought I would die, but I did not die.

I considered suicide.

I looked around me,

searching for a pistol, a dagger, an abyss...

Paradoxically, my religious beliefs were born in that very instant.

Without God, there are incurable wounds.

I had to convince myself I was struggling with God

to retract the blasphemies in my heart invented by my desperation.

I could not abandon Silvina's body in Venice.

I took it with me.

My cousin Paulo had been put in charge of Portugal's commerce in Rome.

He was my only hope.

Alvaro.

Such horrible news.

My poor friend.

Sit down.

Life, at times, is like that.

Cruel.

And quite unjust.

Cruel, without doubt.

Unjust, I don't know...

I speak for myself. I suffer what I caused to suffer. I pay.

But her, my God!

She is paying for me!

Because she certainly is not paying for herself.

Enough. You can't continue to torment yourself like this.

I'm sorry, Paulo.

It's you I'm tormenting now.

You're right.

Enough tears.

I've decided to retreat to a monastery.

You?

Not out of my love for religion!

Nor out of a thirst for humiliation.

Nor for the cilices, the fasting, the discipline...

No. It's my way of leaving life,

without resorting to the cowardly annihilation of my body.

To kill my body.

And to weather the storms of the soul.

Yes but, after all, you have a son...

Exactly.

That is why I came to see you.

So that you can take responsibility for his upbringing.

Me?!

Yes, you, Paulo.

You're the only friend I have left.

Alvaro.

You left him in Rome?

I never saw him again.

For how long?

Fifty-four years.

It isn't possible! Venice, Rome.

Fifty-four years!

My cousin Paulo died two years later.

He entrusted the child to a friend.

The Marquis of Luso.

Guillotined in France by the Jacobins.

I lost track of you there.

I didn't care if you were alive, or if you were dead.

I was picked up by Raymond de Montfort, a retainer of Louis XVI.

He took me to Angouleme and raised me like his own son.

What winding roads we had to travel, my son, for us to meet again.

How did you know?

I recognized you as soon as I saw you enter the antechamber

of the Count of Santa Barbara.

Why, I don't know. Don't ask me.

The way you carry yourself, perhaps.

Her look...

Silvina.

Your mother's look...

And her...

My mother?

Has accompanied me ever since. At every meal.

I give it to you, my son.

My time has come...

There was a tightly sealed door at Father Dinis's school,

and no one was allowed to open it...

You know perfectly well no one is allowed in here.

Forgive me, Father Dinis, I didn't know.

You knew! Keep quiet!

Save what you have to say for confession!

But as long as you're here, I'll explain it to you...

This was my uniform as a soldier of the Emperor.

This was the hat worn by "worldly man".

The gypsy, Sabine Cabra.

And here,

my mother's skull.

Now you know.

And don't forget:

Solidarity with all men.

This is my temple to sincerity.

That is all.

Father Dinis! Father Dinis!

I'm sorry.

And now, my friends, let's talk...

Father Dinis decided to send me to France for my studies.

On the night before my departure,

I went to see my mother, through the bars of the convent gate.

We both remained speechless.

We just kept looking at each other for the entire visit,

as if we already knew it might be the last time

we would ever see each other.

While I waited to board the ship that would take me to France,

I noticed a man who couldn't seem to take his eyes off me.

I could not have imagined the decisive role

he had played in my past,

let alone what role he was to play in my future.

In life, there are events and coincidences of such extravagance

that no novelist would ever dare to invent them...

It was one of those improbable events that led Alberto de Magalhaes

to marry Eugenia, the former lover of the Count of Santa Barbara...

Superb creature!

Careful, old man, her husband is as jealous as a tiger.

And, as ferocious as two.

Speak of the devil...

But I know him.

Who? Alberto de Magalhaes?

That's what he calls himself around here?

In Paris, his name was Leopoldo Saavedra

and in Brussels, Tobias Navarro!

Are you serious? When?

About three or four years ago.

Look, they're leaving. It appears they didn't like the performance.

They didn't even stay for the second act.

No, my friend, the performance had nothing to do with it...

It appears our dear Alberto de Magalhaes has seen a ghost.

Magnificent, yes indeed! Who is she?

Elisa de Montfort. The Duchess of Cliton.

Cliton, a French woman...

As French as one can be.

Is she the ghost?

In flesh and blood.

Our friend must have had a fit when he saw her here.

Why, is there something between them?

In Paris it was said they had been lovers...

It seems the man behaved like a genuine savage...

There was talk of tarnished reputations and insults.

Shadowy stories about money. There may have been bloodshed.

A duel of honor... with one of her relatives.

What is certain is that our Leopoldo Saavedra vanished rather suddenly,

and then in Brussels he was already known as Tobias Navarro.

The lady Duchess is also leaving.

Dear Baron de Sé, what is your secret?

There isn't a beautiful woman who escapes you.

Where did you meet that goddess there whom you just approached?

To be honest, it was she who approached me!

And she's not the first, in any case...

She says we met in Paris!

Although I honestly don't remember...

My time there was spent with so many pretty women!

She approached you, nevertheless, and in what context?

I don't mean to be indiscreet!

She implored me to go and visit her at the Isidro!

She has been lodging there.

Her request came under the pretext of exchanging old memories...

"Souvenir, souvenir..."

But to me, something doesn't fit! There's a mystery there.

Court, Royal Family, Versailles...

Yet she wants to be known as Madame Cliton,

like an ordinary "bourgeoisie".

I must hurry! It would be a sin to miss the duet. We'll talk later.

I'm thinking of taking all the artists here

away from the Sao Carlos Theatre.

Brazil must see these productions.

The second act is even better.

Yes, but unfortunately I won't be able to stay.

Did you say the entire cast?

Yes, the chorus as well, everyone.

That's a lot of people!

Brazil deserves it..

That woman is looking at you.

She has been following us this whole time.

I had already noticed.

I knew her some time ago, but I don't remember anymore.

Shall we go?

Shall we escape?

- Good evening. - Good evening.

Good evening.

A thousand pardons...

- I was told downstairs to come up. - That was the order I gave.

I couldn't wait to see you.

I didn't come earlier,

because I feared I would be bothering you.

I've been stifling my own impatience since last night.

You exaggerate, I'm sure. But I am flattered.

I thank you so much for having come.

It brings me such happiness to meet a familiar face

in a town where really I know no one at all.

It would be an honor to be your guide.

Please think of me as your servant.

I certainly intend to.

But it is I who shall be honored

to have as my guide a man of your quality.

A very modest quality

compared to the charm and elegance of Your Excellency...

It is my tea time.

I am counting on you to keep me company...

I assure you, Madame, in Portugal there is little conversation..

We are missing the words that most captivate the ears.

Especially the Portuguese ladies.

In no way can one compare them to French woman.

They lack the spirit, the spice, the champagne!

I love the French!

The fortunate Parisian!

With this ardor you must have had enormous success there.

If you permit me, Madame,

I can tell you without vanity that

I have taken fortresses that would have made others desist.

I am most convinced.

I'm convinced just by watching and hearing you.

But permit me to question you, in return,

whether all the Portuguese are as you say...

For example, the lady with whom I saw you chatting yesterday

at the opera...

Ah, yes: Eugenia de Magalhaes.

Eugenia. Pretty name...

And his name?

His name?

His name...

Ah! Alberto. Alberto de Magalhaes.

Alberto.

Eugenia and Alberto.

They're married, of course...

Of course...

For long?

About a year now.

I'd like to meet him.

The couple?

No. Just him.

Alberto de Magalhaes?!

Do you find that impossible?

For a man such as myself, Madame, nothing is impossible.

But you find it "inconvenient".

For someone like Your Excellency,

"inconvenience" does not exist.

But your interest, let us say, in this man...

How shall I put it?

Well, it intrigues me. That's all!

Interest?!

Let's not exaggerate.

What is of interest are my devotions to Your Excellency.

For him, I have merely curiosity.

If it is simply to satisfy curiosity, I will take you to him tomorrow.

I would prefer that you send him to me alone.

I don't like to mix intimate friends with vulgar acquaintances...

Your wishes are my commands.

Forgive me, I had to leave for a minute. But I'm counting on your support.

You delight me, Madame.

You delight me.

- You delight me. - I understood!

Money is in the high seas!

Hello, Alberto!

I'm sorry to bother you, just a few seconds.

Of course, Baron.

Make yourself comfortable, have a seat.

I won't be long. I can't be late. They're waiting for me on the corner.

Here it is! Someone implored me to deliver a message...

An invitation, actually.

A friend of mine, a close friend, very close.

A lady from high society... French.

An acquaintance from Paris. Madame Cliton.

The Duchess?

Do you know her?

The Duchess? Yes, of course... Yes, the Duchess!

Intimately! I know her intimately!

But don't tell me, you also know her?

I've heard her name spoken.

I see, of course...

Well, I spoke to her about you.

I piqued her curiosity, I think.

In summary, she would like to meet you.

Simple curiosity. No bad intentions.

You know the French: Free, direct, unprejudiced.

So there, she's at the Isidro. She receives visits from five until seven.

Mister Magalhaes has arrived.

You may come in.

You wanted to see me? Here I am.

What do you want of me.

To pay you what I owe you.

Nothing.

You owe me nothing.

Nor do I owe you anything.

We have both respected the terms of our transaction.

The balance has been paid in full.

No. The balance is right there.

It has burned my fingers and my soul for years.

Take it. It's yours.

Is that all?

Does she know?

Who?

Eugenia. That is her name, isn't it?

I see that fool of a Baron has spoken of her to you as well.

But no, she doesn't know. And I don't want her to know.

Watch yourself, if she learns of any of this!

There are chasms in my life I don't want her dangling over.

Feelings you couldn't possibly understand.

Get going, Elisa. Return to France.

It's useless to try and see me again.

Forget me, as I have forgotten you.

The past doesn't rewrite itself, and the dead never rise again.

You're not going to have me eat lunch all alone?

What kind of Christian charity is that?

Nothing would give me more pleasure, my child.

Unfortunately, the Countess of Santa Barbara

is waiting for me in the Convent of Odivelas.

I'm the only visitor she has left, since her son left for France.

There is a foreign lady downstairs. She's asking for you.

Foreign? Did she give her name?

If she did, I didn't understand, my lady.

She speaks in her own manner.

But I did understand that she's a friend of Sir Alberto.

A friend?

Send her up.

Yes, Madame, excuse me.

How amusing...

She's the first acquaintance I've met of Alberto's...

apart from you, of course, Father.

Well, I'll be going...

At least I leave you with company.

Sit down, please.

He's funny, your butler.

Poor man, he's ill. Alberto took him under his wing.

He's like a son to him.

I hope you'll forgive this intrusion by a stranger...

Not a complete stranger...

You know who I am?!

No. But I have seen you before.

Of course, the day before yesterday. At the opera.

I thought you hadn't even noticed me...

It is impossible not to notice you.

Should I take that as a compliment?

Take it as you wish, Madame...

But I beg your pardon: I didn't catch your name...

Elisa de Montfort.

And you are a friend of Alberto's...

How strange! He has never spoken about you to me!

You haven't any reason to worry,

our dealings are strictly commercial.

I am not worried, Madame de Montfort. I have complete faith in my husband.

I don't doubt it. He's very good at winning the confidence of women...

You still haven't told me the purpose of your visit.

I have come to pay a debt.

A debt? To me?

To your husband.

I assume you don't live together

under the terms of separation of property.

I prefer that you settle your accounts with him directly.

I am not used to meddling in his affairs.

If I've understood correctly, he is away.

Anyway, I was curious to see, up close,

the woman who made Alberto lay down is guard.

I have no regrets.

Your beauty adds further justice to his great reputation in Europe.

Unfortunately for you, it is not his only reputation...

But it won't take you long to discover that for yourself.

If you haven't already...

From now on you may count on my compassion.

Goodbye, Madame.

Madame! Your purse!

Take it, if you please. I cannot accept it.

You are well obliged to.

Unless you attach it

by force around my neck...

Come in, Duchess, come in.

Do not fear me.

I wish you no ill will.

I am here on behalf of Blanche de Montfort.

My mother...

My friend. Sit down, my girl.

You knew her? You knew my mother?

I was quite close to her. She died in my arms.

But I recognize you! I saw you this morning!

I saw you at that man's house...

Alberto de Magalhaes... Or Leopoldo Saavedra, if you prefer...

You Know about all that?

I know almost everything, Duchess. I know too much.

I would have preferred not to know so much...

But who are you?

Call me Father Dinis, young lady.

I've had other names, just like Alberto de Magalhaes.

I've been other men. But they are all dead.

They died at the same time as those whom they held most dear...

Like your mother. Like Blanche de Montfort.

I beg your pardon, just one moment...

I'm not well... I'm feeling dizzy...

It will pass. Just give me a moment... I shall return immediately.

But what did she say to you? What did she tell you?

Nothing! Apart from what I've told you, nothing!

She referred only to the debt. She never said what, or why.

She made insinuations.

I really don't know what she meant at all...

But the worst was her bitterness!

The hatred I sensed in her voice! Toward you, and toward me!

A certain desire to do us harm!

It's my fault. I should have told you everything.

I should have told you.

No! I don't want to know! I don't want to know anything!

Don't tell me anything, I'm not interested!

It has nothing to do with us. It's not a part of our life.

If you tell me, it's as if it mattered,

or that it will matter.

Don't tell me anything.

Otherwise, she wins.

My fear is that she will hurt you.

No, stop! Don't be afraid.

She can't do anything to me.

And if she did something to you...

I would kill her.

I would kill her!

I was born in Venice.

My parents had taken refuge there

to escape the scorn of a wronged husband.

But their escape was not enough to avoid God's punishment...

Two years later, before his death,

Don Paulo entrusted me, in turn, to the Marquis of Luso,

who took me to France,

where he was appointed for a diplomatic mission in the town of Caen.

It is there that we were surprised by the taking of the Bastille,

and the bloodshed that followed...

His relationship with a citizen of Caen, Charlotte Corday,

and the revolutionary fervor she incited within him,

led the Marquis straight to the gallows.

I was finally taken into the care of an old friend of the Marquis de Luso.

Your grandfather, Madame Duchess, Raymond de Montfort...

Whom I never knew...

He welcomed me like a son.

And your father, Benoit de Montfort,

like a brother...

Benoit and I grew up together.

We discovered together, little by little,

the mysteries of Nature.

We both fell in love the same day with the same young lady:

Blanche de Clermont. A descendant of kings,

she was the most modest and most beautiful of all...

My mother, Blanche de Montfort... I never knew her, either.

She was the most beautiful and the most modest...

To us, she was an angel, who had fallen to earth,

among men who could not speak the language of Heaven...

Both of us had stolen a scarf from her, secretly, without the other knowing.

They accompanied us, close against our hearts,

through every campaign we led together under the Emperor's command.

Montebello, Malta, Alexandria, Aboukir...

Up to Portugal, as far as Buçaco, with Masséna...

There, we both saved a man's life together...

A man who would eventually be the ruin of Benoit and Blanche:

Colonel Ernest Lacroze.

Hoist the flag, in front!

Halt!

To the left, turn!

To the rear! March!

Halt!

To the left, turn!

Prepare arms!

Aim!

Fire!

Ready,

Aim!

Long live the Emperor!

Colonel Ernest Lacroze, of the Imperial Guard.

Five minutes more and our heads would have been placed on a stake.

I owe you my life, gentlemen and I will never forget it...

Nurse, quickly! Come quickly, Nurse!

He lay between life and death.

During the entire time our troops were retreating from Portugal,

after the defeats of Buçaco and Torres Vedras...

Benoit de Montfort spent every free moment he had by his side...

to the point of making me jealous...

He ended up convincing him to come with us to the castle

during his recovery.

Thus building with his own hands, the tragedy which was soon to come...

Benoit, come look!

You look like the spy we caught behind the lines, in Aboukir.

With the same assassin's gaze!

Your guest has a curious way of repaying your hospitality...

He spends his days with Blanche!

Soon, he'll be spending his nights with her, too...

What a thought! That's absurd! He does it out of kindness.

Gut of gratitude, really.

How naive, Benoit!

What a ridiculous thought!

Wake up, in the name of God!

Open your eyes, you idiot, open your eyes!

Idiot.

Where did Benoit go?

I think he's in there.

Were you jealous, Father?

I was by far the more jealous of the two of us.

My Lusitanian blood, no doubt...

But it didn't take long for Benoit to surpass my jealousy.

It's true I never missed an opportunity to draw his attention

to Blanche and Ernest's behavior.

I don't see Mademoiselle Blanche...

I wouldn't want to go without bidding her farewell. Did you warn her?

I told her you were leaving, yes.

But she feared she might not be able to come.

Some story about dresses ordered in Angouleme...

Women!

She should have left this morning with her father.

But all of this is unimportant: I will convey your respects to her.

A shame.

In fact, I scribbled a small note

just in case I didn't see her.

To thank her for the kindness

of her hospitality and for her company.

Would you be so kind?

Of course, you can count on me.

Thank you, my friend. Thank you for everything.

I will not forget Buçaco. And I will always remember Montfort.

Little by little, Benoit's jealousy became obsessive.

Under the pretext of being helpful,

he kept trying to convince the Emperor to give Colonel Lacroze

the command of a garrison lost at the far end of Calabria.

Far from everything. And, most of all, from Blanche...

Careful, Jerome, don't set the castle on fire!

No danger, my commander.

Even the English, couldn't manage to burn it down.

It was made the old-fashioned way.

It won't catch fire.

Blanche...

The departure of Ernest Lacroze did not cause many consequences

to my relationship with Blanche de Clermont...

Come see.

Only that from then on, instead of the colonel,

It was Benoit who monopolized her company...

There he is, spying on us.

You ought to kiss me,

just to make him burst with jealousy.

Come closer!

I don't want him to die.

And I don't want to kiss you.

I resigned myself little by little, to the fact

that they would end up getting married.

And though that made me suffer,

it was more bearable than thinking she might marry someone else.

A foreigner.

Like Ernest Lacroze or worse!

You are tired, Father.

Would you like to rest?

No, my girl, it's not fatigue...

it's the pain of recalling that moment...

when Benoit de Montfort sold his soul in exchange for Blanche de Clermont...

It was on that day that everything changed.

It was then that he decided to sacrifice everything.

His friends, his honor, and with one sole purpose: to have Blanche.

Later, I learned that he had intercepted all the letters,

that colonel Lacroze had sent to Blanche.

Have you not heard more news of Colonel Lacroze?

No.

That's strange. Don't you think?

What's strange about it?

Military life is like that, you know.

Made up of meetings and separations.

Today here, tomorrow over there.

From battle to battle, garrison to garrison, country to country...

For them it's best not to become attached to anything.

That was not how I saw him. Quite the contrary.

He left me the memory of a man faithful in friendship,

dedicated, sincere, attentive, and accountable...

Enough, that's sufficient, stop!

That is not a man, you describe. That is "Prince Charming"!

Instead, admit that he courted you.

That is to say,

he played the role he thought would be best to seduce you.

It's true: he courted me.

But he wasn't playing any role.

He was sincere.

I know he was sincere.

Sincere to the point of not seeing you before he left,

of leaving without a word of farewell?

Blanche,

did something happen between you?

I did not delude myself.

The Emperor had just given Benoit the title of Duke.

Something happened.

I was just an orphan.

Without a father, a mother, or even a country.

Blanche's father, Richard de Clermont,

kept harassing her for a decision.

And even the Emperor, they had said, wanted this marriage.

It's not hot today.

Benoit's obstinacy, her father's persistence,

and the will of the Emperor himself, toppled Blanche's resistance all together.

But the news of Lacroze's suicide had something to do with her decision.

In spite of that, your mother added a condition

that the ceremony would take place without any splendor. And in intimacy.

There was no banquet. Nor a honeymoon...

Blanche!

Come back! Blanche!

Blanche, where are you going?

I'm going to the hunting lodge.

I need to be alone.

Blanche!

Poor wedding.

Poor mother.

My poor family.

With these origins, it's not surprising

that my whole life has been branded by the iron of evil.

That iron is the fate of everyone, my girl.

Perhaps, Father.

But then, it's the distribution that is not done fairly.

Did you see her very much, after the wedding?

Did you speak with her?

Unfortunately, no.

I left the castle of Montfort that same day.

There was nothing that kept me there any longer.

Benoit was no longer the same and old Raymond was almost senile.

I was overtaken by the desire to return to Portugal,

to strengthen my bond with the country of my ancestors,

which I had until now, only glimpsed.

But I was in no hurry.

I used the occasion to get to know France better.

And to sell off the few possessions I owned here and there...

The months went by.

I found myself in Bordeaux,

when I received news that Blanche had just given birth to twins.

You, Madame Duchess, and your brother, Arthur.

I couldn't resist the temptation to return.

Good old Sebastiao!

I knew you'd come back.

They all end up coming back sooner or later.

She will as well, you'll see.

Your room is just as you had left it. Get yourself settled in.

But it's best if you take your bag up yourself.

We are lacking staff at the moment...

Oh!

Old Raymond has passed away.

In his sleep. He didn't suffer.

I inherited his armchair.

It's quite practical. You'll have to try it.

And Blanche?

And the children?

Madame de Montfort makes her home apart from mine.

She's with the children.

When she got pregnant, she moved into the hunting lodge.

It seems this whole business was too painful for her.

Well, that is what she says.

But I know the real reason...

it's there that they meet.

Who?

She meets with the living-dead. I saw him.

But whom? Whom did you see?

The brave colonel.

Lacroze?

The fearless suicide.

I saw him alive!

Where?

Right near here. I will show you tonight.

But sit down, sit down.

Tell me your stories...

Later.

Right now I'm going to see Blanche, and the children.

I'll be right back.

That's it, go ahead!

Go on, go and see them!

Sebastiao!

Come.

You can do me a big favor.

Take off my boots for me.

What?

My boots.

Good morning.

I am a friend of Madame de Montfort's...

Madame is not here. She has gone to see her father.

She will only be back tonight.

Is he one of the twins?

Oh, no, this one here, he's mine. The children are with Madame.

Thank you.

- Goodbye. - Goodbye.

Benoit! Benoit!

Madame? Where is she?

Sir! She is inside. I haven't seen her...

And the children?

The children stayed with Madame's father!

She died in my arms, she never regained consciousness.

She hadn't the slightest trace of burns on her entire body.

If you ever speak to my wife again. I'll smash you like a worm.

Knife-eater!

Remember Knife-eater, Alberto de Magalhaesl.

Remember the assassin!

Brother...

All right, brother...

Thank you, brother.

You're welcome, brother.

I'm no brother to any little priest.

What was this miracle, Father?

Renounce your vengeance, Duchess.

It can only lead you into despair.

Go back to France.

Forgive and forget.

I will do what you want, Father Dinis.

I will go back to France tomorrow.

But, I do not forgive.

I do not forget. I do not renounce.

Upon my return to Lisbon,

I paid a visit to my neighbor, the Viscount of Armagnac,

in the hopes of distracting myself

from the obsession that had tormented me.

Unfortunately, I was introduced

to one of his young friends, Pedro da Silva,

a Portuguese gentleman who would reimmerse me, even further...

I thought you were still in Paris, my dear Viscount.

I arrived just two days ago, Duchess.

If you please.

I had intended to go and pay you my respects today even...

I shall receive you with pleasure.

Sit down.

Oh, no, I don't have time.

To make up for it, however, can I count on you for tea?

I shall not miss it.

Your friend will be welcome, of course.

Who is she?

Elisa de Montfort. Duchesse de Cliton. A neighbor.

She's lived as a recluse in Montfort for the past three years.

She practically never leaves the castle.

This is the first time I've seen her outdoors.

She doesn't visit anyone.

She doesn't receive a living soul.

And she dresses in black... A romantic?

I would say more melancholic than romantic...

Melancholic? Why?

The secrets of a proud and offended woman.

A fatal passion?

This is what they say... In her youth, she had been

one of the ornaments in Charles X's salons.

It was the King himself who wed her to the Duke of Cliton...

She is married?

Oh, not quite.

The duke soon left her a widow and in ruin.

They said that afterwards she found a mysterious man, a foreigner...

A shadowy story that ended with the death of her twin brother in a duel.

After which, she came here... Isolated. Alone.

Always sad.

Like a character in a novel by Radcliffe.

I can't wait to see her again.

Let's go then, my dear Pedro.

I wouldn't want you to die of impatience...

Thank you.

No, no, no! No!

Such rain!

To think that it was the blue sky that you had promised me.

Excuse me.

Excuse me...

I'll go see what is going on.

Excuse me...

I'm sorry.

I don't feel very well.

I'm going to have to leave you.

We must leave.

Let's go?

I'll explain later.

Don't deny it.

I'm sure she found me provincial, awkward, spiritless...

On the contrary, my dear Pedro.

I am convinced that you interest and intrigue her.

The looks she gave you

while you weren't looking... They don't deceive!

Come in.

She merely addressed a single word toward me.

Exactly. To provoke you.

There is nothing like the feigned indifference

of a woman to excite a man's desire.

I see your eyes in the warm twilight...

Shit...

I see... I see your eyes in the twilight warm.

Shit...

For a week, it rained constantly.

And no news of the Duchess of Cliton, although I thought of her day and night...

Fallen into oblivion... No, No!

Policarpo, help me.

I saw your eyes in the cold twilight. It was in a sad and morbid castle.

At the top of a staircase,

one day when forgetfulness had taken everything away

except for your stern gaze...

But what a charming thing,

seeing your limpid eyes in the castle night.

Our livid bed, I am wounded by the menacing stare

of the sad and watchful pupils in your eyes?

I suddenly see the solitary figure of a lunar and yawning woman,

who rises, so dignified, from the waters.

I spent hours there, hoping to see her leave,

not knowing if I'd have the courage to approach her...

And without daring to knock on that door...

I finally couldn't resist,

I brought her the sonnet I had decided not to show her.

That's what youth is all about. Naivete and arrogance.

She returned it to me the same day, with a short note...

I am returning your verses to you.

Give them to someone your own age

who deserves them much more than I.

It would be unusual for any man of mine

to have a pure enough soul to understand them.

The pain, the humiliation, was unbearable...

Come in!

I wanted to die, to run away, to disappear forever...

Madame de Montfort.

Forgive me! I am unforgivable.

I didn't want to offend you, I swear. Pardon me.

How could I do that to you? Tell me you'll forgive me.

Forgive you?

It is I who should be asking forgiveness from you!

To think that I dared

I didn't want to, believe me...

I shouldn't have done it!

No, no! It's me alone! It is I who am unforgivable!

Don't say that, I beg you!

But you are soaked!

How long have you been in the rain? Come in, sit down, please.

No, I can't.

So, it's here that you write your poems?

How charming...

What is that?

A gift from my mother.

It's pretty.

Wait! I have an idea!

Come to the castle this evening.

At whatever time you want. I will be waiting for you.

I'll explain everything, you'll see...

And bring the poem.

I beg you. Bring it to me.

To prove to me that you forgive me...

Mister da Silva has arrived.

Thank you.

I must leave.

He thinks I am at Angouleme.

Go out through there.

I saw you outside, in the rain

and I burned with the desire to call you,

to go find you, to shelter you in my arms...

Why didn't you do it?

Why didn't you call me?

Because I didn't know if I had the right...

Who would refuse it?

You are free, Elisa. As free as I am.

No, Pedro, I'm not free.

I'm a prisoner of the scruples of my conscience

and the stain I have on my heart.

I don't have the right to be yours.

I don't understand you. You talk in riddles.

You're so young!

Your verses are so innocent,

so clear, so pure...

They made me feel so bad...

Bad? Why?

They only meant well...

They took me back to a time when I was also pure,

good and happy...

Before they made me unhappy and nasty.

Elisa! Not nasty!

One could make you sad. But not nasty!

My poor Pedro, if you knew!

If you knew the desires of death,

the thirst for blood that fill me for nights on end!

The wishes for vengeance that suffocate my heart

to the point of preventing it from beating,

Or allowing myself to be paralyzed for days...

In the darkest despair and impotent rage...

That is how I have lived for years, Pedro.

Since the day they robbed me of my honor,

and of the life of my only brother.

This man...

The foreigner?

They spoke to you about him! They told you...

Vaguely.

They told you he is Portuguese, like you?

No!

What is his name?

He has had many names.

Right now, he calls himself Alberto de Magalhaes.

Despite my insistence,

Elisa categorically refused to give any more details

about the shadowy story that had destroyed her life,

Yet as the night went on,

it became ever clearer to me that that man's existence

was the only obstacle to our happiness...

When the day came, my decision had been made,

I would return to Lisbon to avenge the honor of the Duchess of Cliton

and the death of her only brother...

Back at the estate, a letter from Portugal awaited me,

announcing the death of my mother,

victim of the cholera epidemic that had spread throughout the country.

By the cruel irony of fortune, my decision to return to Lisbon

was now painfully justified.

Yes?

There is a gentlemen here with a foreign air

and I told him you wouldn't receive anyone, but he insisted.

He says he is an emissary on behalf of Artur de Montfort.

He wrote his name here...

What kind of bad joke is this?

Is your Excellency the emissary of Artur de Montfort?

I am!

Artur de Montfort!!

He died nine years ago!

Indeed!

Then I gather your Excellency has come from the other world!

Are things well around there?

There the murderers rest...

Here, the murderers await their hour...

I came precisely to demand that the murderer of Artur de Montfort

answers me on the field of honor, with weapons in hand.

Demand!

With what right?

You probably never knew poor Artur.

You couldn't have been more than ten years old when he left us...

But perhaps you know his sister,

Elisa de Montfort,

the Duchess of Cliton...

Am I mistaken?

I have no intention of talking about my personal acquaintances...

I already told you why I have come.

I leave the choice of arms up to you...

And I await your response.

Very well!

If you insist!

I'm just going to send you my witnesses.

That is, if you'd be so kind as to give me your address!

It's written on the card I sent to you...

The Isidro, an excellent hotel! A wise choice...

Come here!

Arms!

Considering that neither of us had yet been wounded,

upon my insistence and despite Alberto 's resistance,

it was decided to continue our duel with pistols...

Unfortunately, my dear friend,

one cannot duck bullets the way one ducks a sword.

One of us will end up staying here forever.

Isn't that the idea?

In theory, yes!

And given that I can't dissuade you to put a stop to this nonsense,

I find myself forced to suggest

that we have other means placed at our disposal.

I don't understand.

You will understand...

I'm talking about where I should give the money

that Father Dinis left me to administer on your behalf.

On my behalf?

Father Dinis... You knew him?

Strange, some things in life...

I knew Father Dinis.

And I knew you, Don Pedro.

I practically saw you being born...

I fear my dear gentlemen...

I feel we must change the agenda...

I've just spoken to my valiant opponent,

and told him some things

that have changed his mind about continuing this duel.

If he agrees, I propose to postpone this duel until a later date.

If it's not considered dishonorable on my part...

No. Not at all...

isn't that true, gentlemen?

Come out from there, Don Pedro.

Suddenly, I felt lost.

I was once again the Joao of Father Dinis's school,

before I ever found my mother or knew my name, or my history.

A mere puppet, manipulated by invisible hands

at the mercy of some other will...

I didn't know what to do, or what decision to make.

Everything he had told me was more than convincing,

as it corresponded point by point to what I already knew

from Father Dinis' intervention to save my life

to the role played by Alberto himself

in defending the reputation of my mother against her slanderers...

But despite my insistence, he refused to reveal the origin

of the fortune he administered on my behalf at the request of Father Dinis.

I met Elisa de Montfort, in Paris,

at a time when nothing could make me resist satisfying my whims.

She had just lost the husband who had decimated her fortune.

She was, in those days, a dangerous woman

who acted like she wanted to avenge herself in life,

and would use romance to crush the self-esteem of several men

and several women.

It was said she had provoked six duels.

To me at the time, she was an irresistible challenge...

It started as a frivolous game, and ended as a sordid bourgeois drama...

You wanted to see me?

I am at your disposal.

Just now, I heard you say that every man has his price.

Do you truly believe that?

Yes, I believe it.

That makes you laugh.

Bonaparte thought the same thing and that didn't go too well for him.

I wasn't talking about politics.

Nor of war.

Even less.

So, what were you talking about?

I was talking about business.

And of love.

Yes...of love.

You mean to say that I also have a price?

Yes Madame.

How much?

Fifty thousand.

Is that all? In that case, for only one day...

One night.

One hundred thousand.

Eighty.

Done!

I will bring the contract this afternoon.

Even now, I still ask myself if she accepted the challenge

out of a real passion for the game,

or merely for the love of money.

I had the contract written up and sent it to her.

She came that same night to my hotel...

If you please, Madame.

The contract. Signed.

She returned the signed contract to me,

and left the next morning with the 80 thousand francs

which I had most discreetly placed in her bag.

The game should have ended there.

But she returned the next night,

and the one after that,

and the one after that...

After a week she wanted to give me my money back.

For her it was no longer a game,

It became serious... I refused.

At that time,

the most serious thing was precisely the game...

I changed hotels, she found me.

I gave orders for her not to be allowed to enter,

and she left me the 80 thousand francs at the reception desk,

with a note I never read. I sent them back and moved again,

this time to an obscure inn in a populated neighborhood.

Stop, please!

I'll walk from here.

In desperation, she sent her twin brother,

Artur de Montfort,

And since then, she regularly sends someone

no matter where I am, with the mission of her vengeance.

The last time, she came herself I guess that with time,

the thirst for vengeance became her only reason to live...

At her grave, I couldn't even cry for my mother,

whom I had seen so little while she lived,

Angela de Lima, Countess of Santa Barbara,

rested in an anonymous grave, together with scores of wretches

victims like herself, of the cholera epidemic...

Is someone there?

Her poor name was not anywhere to be seen.

Can I help you?

Oh, sir, please...

Are we in the eastern part of the cemetery?

Yes...We're in the right place... it's here...

Thank you very much.

I'm looking for the mausoleum where my daughter is...

Mausoleum?

My friends assure me it is monumental.

My friends say it is the most beautiful in the entire cemetery...

I'm unable to see it.

With the last money left from my fortune,

I had this mausoleum built...

Would you be so kind as to describe it to me?

It's beautiful, isn't it?

I don't know if I would be able...

I am the Marquis of Montezelos. What is your name?

I am a simple student, Marquis...

my mother died and I came to visit her...

So your mother is also in a mausoleum, right?

No, Marquis, my mother is in a common pauper's grave...

Poor woman.

Had I mentioned to you that I was a bad father?

No. I hadn't.

This head of mine, and now, as you see I am a beggar,

and now that we're having this conversation,

would you happen to have a small coin, for the love of God?

Of course...

Thank you very much...

Marquis, your friends are waiting for you...

Poor Marquis.

He's lost his mind...

The accident...

He had an accident?

It wasn't an accident... more of a failed suicide attempt...

His daughter's dishonor...

What to us are the things of life, are enormous tragedies to the nobility...

He fired the shot as they left the Mass.

He didn't kill himself, but he was blinded.

He wasted away the fortune and people were moved by this sadness.

They were moved by a beggar Marquis and still give him a lot of money.

That's the blessing of beggars...

Even in disgrace,

the nobles are favored.

And the mausoleum?

The mausoleum doesn't exist. It was an invention of the Marquis...

Where are you, Manuel?

I'm here, Marquis.

I'll be right there!

Please excuse me...

I've heard that Alberto de Magalhaes has enjoyed excellent health.

You lacked courage my dear.

And I, whose heart you once possessed...

My life no longer made any sense.

My only thought was to disappear, to lose myself quickly, completely,

and without a trace...

I caught the first boat I found, bound for Tangiers,

which allowed me to board for the coins I still had in my pocket...

One soon discovers that it is not difficult

to disappear from the eyes of others,

but that our own eyes follow us wherever we go.

I continued to travel randomly, aimlessly, to lose myself

I don't know how,

but the representatives of Alberto Magalhaes

never lost my trail

and I continued to regularly receive the money intended for me.

My footsteps have finally led me here.

I don't think I can go any further.

My condition doesn't allow me many illusions.

Excuse me,

could you kindly direct me to an inn that is far from the center of town?

That won't be easy. Most of our inns are right in the center.

In that case, I'll have to settle for the closest.

This is the closest.

Thank you.

I was fifteen years old and I didn't know who I was at all...

Sometimes, the others would ask me if I was Father Dinis' son...

I didn't know how to answer them.

They all had surnames...

Four, five, even more...

I was just "Joao."

Unlike the others,

I went on no outings,

had no holidays, received no presents.

I don't know how long had passed between the time I lost consciousness...

and the moment I opened my eyes again...

I thought I had dreamt it all.

Dona Antonia...

Help him lie down.

Father Dinis!

He is cold.

We'd better find a doctor! I'll order the coach to be readied.