Original subtitles

THE SEVENTH SEAL

And when the Lamb opened the Seventh Seal,

there was in heaven a silence,

which lasted about the space of half an hour.

And the seven angels who had the seven trumpets

prepared themselves to sound.

- Who are you? - I am Death.

- Have you come to take me? - I have long walked at your side.

- That I know. - Are you ready?

My body is, but not my self.

- Wait a moment. - You all say that.

- But I leave no respite. - You play chess, don't you?

- How do you know? - From paintings and folk songs.

Yes, I am actually quite a skilful chess player.

- Not more so than me. - Why play chess with me?

- That's my affair. - You are right.

The condition is that I live as long as I resist you.

If I conquer you, you free me.

You play black.

It's most appropriate, not so?

Squeezed twixt the thighs on a bed of sighs

That's the only way to be

For a man like me

Our Lord sits up high, He is somewhat shy

But Satan, your crony, ensures you won't be lonely

They talk of omens and other horrors in Férjestad.

Two horses ate one another last night.

Graves had been opened in the cemetery and the remains scattered about.

There were four suns in the heavens yesterday afternoon.

Can you tell me the way to the inn?

- Did he show you the way? - Not exactly.

- What did he say? - Nothing.

- Was he dumb? - No, one can't say that.

I'd say that he was extremely well-spoken.

- Is that so? - Yes, well-spoken.

But the speech he made was dour, I have to say.

Good morning. Have you had any breakfast?

Unfortunately, I can't eat grass. Can't you teach me?

Things are tight. People aren't interested in art in these parts.

Mia, wake up! I've seen something I must tell you about.

- Has something happened? - I've had a vision.

No, not a vision. It was like it was real.

I see... Have you had another vision?

I saw her, anyway.

- Who? Who did you see? - The Holy Virgin Mary.

- Really? - She was so close I could touch her.

She had a crown of gold and a blue dress with flowers,

and she was barefoot and had small brown hands.

She held the child and taught him to walk.

Then she saw that I'd seen her, and she smiled at me.

I got tears in my eyes and when I wiped them away, she'd disappeared.

And it became utterly, utterly quiet everywhere.

In heaven and on earth. Can you understand that?

- You have an imagination. - You don't believe me, but it was real.

Not your kind of reality, but another reality.

Like when you said the Devil painted our wagon wheels red using his tail.

Why bring that up?

- Red paint was under your nails. - Yes, that time it was made up.

I did it so you'd believe in my other visions. The real ones.

Control your visions, or you'll be taken for a fool. Which you aren't.

At least not yet, as far as I know. But one never knows.

I didn't ask for my visions!

I can't help the Holy Virgin revealing herself,

and that angels and devils like to be with me.

Haven't I said it once and for all that I need to sleep in the morning?

I've asked you, I've begged you, but nothing helps.

That's why I'm now saying... quiet!

Mikael, Mikael, Mikael...

- He should have a better life than us. - Mikael will be a great acrobat.

Or maybe a juggler who accomplishes the only impossible trick.

- What trick is that? - Make one bail remain still in the air.

- That's impossible. - For us, it is. But not for him.

You and your fantasies...

I made up a new song last night. I lay awake almost all night.

- Do you want to hear my song? - Sing it. I'm really curious.

There sits a dove on the lily In the midst of summer

She sings her fair song of Jesus Christ!

There is great rejoicing in heaven

- Mia, are you asleep? - It was a very beautiful song.

- It's not finished yet. - I'm just going to sleep a little more.

- You can sing the rest later. - You just sleep and sleep.

Is this disguise worthy of an actor? I'm only asking.

- If the priests didn't pay, I'd refuse. - Are you playing Death?

I frighten decent people out of their wits with such nonsense.

- When are we going to perform it? - At the All Saints festival in Elsinore.

On the actual church steps. Not bad.

Why not something bawdy? People like it and it's funnier.

You idiot. There's an evil sickness about.

And priests are preaching grim death and moral bellyaches.

- What roles will we play? - You're the human soul, you twit.

- Naturally it's a bad role. - Who decides? Who's the manager?

You fools, keep this law in mind

Life's thread is of the weakest kind

Life is short, you will find

Will women love me in this costume? I'm only asking.

Jof? Stand perfectly still. Don't say anything.

I'm quiet as a mouse.

I love you.

- What are you painting? - The dance of Death.

- That's Death? - Yes, he dances away with them all.

- Why paint such daubings? - To remind people they will die.

- That won't make them happier. - Why always make them happy?

- Why not frighten them a bit? - They'll just close their eyes then.

Believe me, they'll look. A skull is more interesting than a naked wench.

- And if you frighten them? - They'll think and be more frightened.

- And rush into the priest's embrace. - Not my business.

- You're just painting Death's dance. - I'm only showing how it is.

- You'll make certain people angry. - Then I'll paint something cheerful.

One has to make a living. At least until the plague claims you.

The plague? That's horrifying.

You should see the boil on the neck of the sick.

See how the body contracts until the limbs become a rope of madness.

- It doesn't look good. - Yes... it doesn't look good.

He's trying to tear the bubo out of his bed.

He gnaws at his hands, rips out his veins with his nails.

His scream is heard everywhere.

- Are you scared? - Scared? Me?

You don't know me. What nonsense is that you've painted?

The strange thing is that people see

the plague as a punishment from God.

Supplicants trail through the land and whip themselves into God's favour.

- They beat themselves? - Yes, it's an awful sight.

You want to run and hide when they come.

Have you got any schnapps? I've been drinking water all day.

- I'm as thirsty as a camel in the desert. - So you did get a little scared, after all.

I want to confess as honestly as I can, but my heart is empty.

And emptiness is a mirror turned to my own face.

I see myself... and I am seized by disgust and fear.

Through my indifference for people, I've been placed outside of their society.

Now I live in a ghost world, enclosed in my dreams and imaginings.

- Despite that, you don't want to die. - Yes, I want to.

- What are you waiting for? - I want knowledge.

- You want guarantees. - Call it what you like.

Is it so terribly inconceivable to comprehend God with one's senses?

Why does he hide in a cloud of half-promises and unseen miracles?

How can we believe in the faithful when we lack faith?

What will happen to us who want to believe, but cannot?

What about those who neither want to nor can believe?

Why can't I kill God in me?

Why does he live on in me in an humiliating way,

despite my wanting to evict him from my heart?

Why is he, despite all, a mocking reality that I can't be rid of?

- Do you hear? - I hear you.

I want knowledge! Not faith, not assumptions, but knowledge.

I want God to stretch out his hand, uncover his face and speak to me.

- But he remains silent. - I call out to him in the darkness.

- But it's as if no one was there. - Perhaps there isn't anyone.

Then life is a preposterous horror!

No man can live faced with Death, knowing everything's nothingness.

Most people think neither of Death nor nothingness.

But one day, you stand at the edge of life and face darkness.

- That day. - I understand what you mean.

We must make an idol of our fear, and that idol we shall call God.

You are worried.

Death came to see me this morning. We played chess together.

The grace I received allows me to accomplish something.

All my life, I've been searching, wondering,

talking without meaning or context.

It has been nothing.

Yes, I say so without bitterness or self-reproach,

as I know that almost all of people's lives are made this way.

But I want to use my respite for one meaningful act.

That's why you are playing chess with the Devil.

He's a difficult and skilful tactician, but so far I have not surrendered a piece.

How can you outwit the Devil in your game?

I'm playing a combination of bishop and knight

that he hasn't noticed yet.

I'll expose his flank in the next move.

I'll remember that.

You're a traitor.

And you cheated me.

But we'll meet again. And I'll find a way.

We'll meet at the inn. We'll continue our game then.

This is my hand.

I can move it.

My blood gushes within it.

The sun is still high in the sky.

And I...

I, Antonius Block...

...am playing chess with the Devil.

My master and I have been abroad.

Do you understand, my dear... Pictor?

- The crusades. - Exactly.

For 10 years, we let snakes bite us,

insects sting us, animals maul us, heathens slaughter us,

the wine poison us, women infect us, lice eat us, fever rot us.

- Everything in the name of God! - In the name of God.

Our crusade was so stupid, only an idealist could have invented it.

- All this about the plague is awful. - It's worse than that.

Oh, yes, it's always your own arse you sit on.

- A great truth. - Your own arse. Your own arse.

- A profound truth. - Here is Jiins the squire.

He grins at Death, guffaws at the Lord, laughs at himself, smiles at the girls.

His world is believable to no one but himself.

Ridiculous to everyone, even to himself.

Meaningless in heaven and indifferent in hell.

What's your stinking brew for?

She was joined in flesh with the Evil One.

- And now she's in the stocks. - She will burn in the morning.

- But we must keep the Devil away. - With that stinking brew?

The best stuff. Blood and guts of a big black dog.

The... the Evil One can't bear the smell.

Me neither.

Have you seen the Devil?

- Don't talk to her? - Is it so dangerous?

I don't know, but she's seen as guilty of the plague that has befallen us.

Oh, fate is a reprobate

You, my friend, are an unfortunate

Now you bound in haste

Now worms lay you to waste

- Must you sing? - No.

Why do you look so surprised? I steal from the dead.

It's quite a rewarding domain these days.

You're thinking of telling tales in the village? It won't help.

Each one of us saves his own skin. It's that simple.

Don't try to scream. No one will hear you, neither God nor man.

It's nothing to be surprised about.

I recognise you, even though it was long ago.

You're Raval from the seminary in Roskilde.

Doctor Mirabilis, Caelestis et Diabilis. Am I not right?

You convinced my master to go to the Holy Land on an honourable crusade.

Are you scared? Butterflies in your stomach?

Now I understand the meaning of these 10 years that I thought were wasted.

We had it too good, we were too content.

The Lord wanted to punish our self-satisfied pride.

He sent you to spit your heavenly venom and to poison the knight.

- It was in good faith. - But now you know better, not so?

Now you're a thief, a more suitable occupation for wretches and villains.

Am I not right?

I am not bloodthirsty by any means.

Next time, I'll mark your face like we do with petty villains of your kind.

I actually came to fill my water bag.

Jiins is the name.

I'm a pleasant, talkative young man,

who thinks only good thoughts and commits honourable deeds.

Farewell, my girl.

I could have raped you.

But between us, I'm tired of that kind of love. It's dry in the long run.

Come to think of it, I need a housekeeper. Do you cook well?

I'm married, but I have hope that my wife will be dead by now.

So I need a housekeeper!

Come now, don't just stand there! I saved you from death so you owe me!

Bloody hammy actors!

They're making a spectacle of themselves.

Stop that, you tin-heads!

I don't start the next scene, so I'll go behind the drapes.

Stop staring, you blockheads!

The horse sits in the tree and crows

The road is wide but the door is low

The Black One dances on the beach

The hen miaows in the darkest lake

The day is red but the fish is dead

The Black One squats on the beach

The snake flutters in heaven's heights

The virgin is pale but the pussy shows delight

The Black One runs on the beach

The ram hisses with teeth apart

The gust is harsh and the waves dart

The Black One farts on the beach

The horse sits in the tree and crows

The road is wide but the door is low

The Black One dances on the beach

The hen miaows in the darkest lake

The day is red but the fish is dead

The Black One squats on the beach

The snake flutters in heaven's heights

The virgin is pale but the pussy shows delight

The Black One runs on the beach

The sow lays and the cat sows

Night is blighted and darkness glows

The Black One remains, remains

Remains, remains on the beach

God has sent his punishment over us.

Yes!

You will all vanish in the Black Death.

You, standing there, like open-mouthed cattle.

And you, sitting there in bloated self-satisfaction.

Do you know that this could be your final hour?

Death stands behind you.

I can see the crown of his head gleaming in the sun.

His scythe flashes when he raises it behind your heads!

Who amongst you will he strike first?

You there, staring like a goat.

Before evening, will your mouth be distorted into a final, unfinished yawn?

And you, woman, blooming with appetite and lust for life.

Will you grow pale and drop before the dawn?

And you there, with your swollen nose and silly grin!

Have you got a year left to pollute the earth with your debris?

Do you know, you confirmed idiots, that you are all going to die?

Today, tomorrow, or the next day. You are all condemned.

Do you hear what I say? Do you hear the word?

Condemned! Condemned! Condemned!

Lord, take pity on us in our degradation.

Don't turn your face from us in contempt,

but have mercy on us for the sake of your son, Jesus Christ!

All this bloody talk of doom. Is that sustenance for a modern man?

Do they really think we'll take them seriously?

You laugh at me, sire.

I've read, heard and experienced most stories we tell one another.

Even the ghost story of God, Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit,

I've absorbed it without much emotion.

- Why are you shouting? - I'm Plog and you're Jons.

- That's possible. - Have you seen my wife?

No, I haven't. But if I had and she resembled you, I'd be quick to forget.

- So, you haven't seen her? - Maybe she's run away.

- Do you know something? - Quite a lot, but not of your wife.

Go to the tavern and you may find an answer.

It's true, the plague has swamped the west coast. People die like flies.

Business is normally good at this time of year, but my stock's unsold.

They talk of the Last Day. And all the omens do not bode well.

A woman gave birth to a calf's head.

People are crazy. They flee inland and take the plague with them.

If it's as they say, then we'll have to enjoy life as long as we're standing.

Many people have cleaned themselves by fire and died.

But the priest says it is better to die clean than to live for hell.

This is the end, that's what it is. We all know it, but no one dares to say it.

This is the end. People are crazy with fear.

- And you're scared, too? - Too right I'm scared!

Judgement Day edges toward evening.

The angels descend and the graves open. It will be terrible to see.

- I'll sell you this bracelet cheaply. - I can't afford it.

- It's genuine silver. - It's nice, but probably too expensive.

- Have you gentlemen seen my wife? - Is she lost?

She's run away, they say. With an actor.

An actor? If she has such bad taste, let her go.

You are absolutely right. I was thinking I would kill her.

- I see. Murder is another thing. - I'm going to kill the actor, too.

- The actor? - The one she's run off with.

- What for? - Are you thick?

Oh, the actor! Now I understand. There are far too many of them.

Even if he's blameless, you should kill him.

- Are you telling him tales? - Me? Telling tales?

You're also an actor, and it's your crony that's sneaked off with his wife.

Are you an actor as well?

Me, an actor? Not really.

Then we should kill you. It's logical.

- You're funny. - You've gone pale.

- Something on your conscience? - You're funny. Don't you think so?

Maybe we should mark you as one does with petty villains of your kind.

What have you done to my wife?

Do you want to hurt me? Why?

Have I annoyed anyone or got in the way? I'll leave and never come back.

Stand up so everyone can hear you.

Speak louder.

Stand on your head, so we can see whether you're a good actor.

What have you done to my wife?

- Don't whimper. Get up and dance. - I can't. I won't.

- Imitate a bear. - I can't imitate a bear.

We'll see if you can, anyway.

- Get up and be a good bear. - I can't be a bear anymore.

Remember what I'd do to you if we met again?

I'm a man of my word.

- What's his name? - Mikael.

- How old is he? - He's just over one year.

- He's big for his age. - You think so? Yes, he is quite big.

- You were in the performance today. - Did you think it was bad?

You're more beautiful without make-up. That dress suits you better.

You think so? Jonas Skat left us, so now we're in a real fix.

- Is that your husband? - Jonas? No.

- The other man is. His name is Jof. - Oh, him!

Now it's only me and him. We'll have to do tricks again, and that's a bother.

- Do you do tricks as well? - Oh, yes. And Jof is a good juggler.

- Will Mikael also be an acrobat? - Jofwants him to be.

- But not you? - I don't know.

- Maybe he'll be a knight. - It's not so much fun, I can tell you.

- You don't look happy. - No.

- Are you tired? Why? - I have boring company.

- Do you mean your squire? - No, not him.

- Who do you mean, then? - Myself.

- Oh, I understand. - Do you really?

Yes, I understand quite well.

I often wonder why people torment themselves as soon as they can.

- Mia... - Jof... Jof, what is it?

Jof! Jof, what have you done?

Come and sit down.

Where have you been? Let me look at you.

Why did you have to go to the tavern? You drank, of course.

- I didn't drink a drop. - You boasted about angels and devils.

- People don't like too many ideas. - I didn't mention angels!

Then you sang and danced. You always have to perform.

- People get angry at that, too. - Look at what...

Look at what... at what I bought for you.

- You couldn't afford that. - Well, I did it anyway.

- 30“!

- Oh, they gave me such a beating. - Why didn't you give them one back?

I just got scared and angry, but never got that far.

I got angry, believe me. I roared like a... lion.

- Did they get scared? - No, they just laughed.

Mikael... Mikael.

- Smell how good he smells. - And he's solid.

You're a solid one, you are! A real acrobat's body!

This is my husband, Jof.

- Good day. - Good day.

You have a fine son. He will bring you joy.

Yes, he is lovely. Do we have anything to offer, Mia?

- Thanks, I shan't have anything. - I picked wild strawberries.

- And we actually milked some milk. - Have milked...

If the knight would join us, it would be an honour.

- Sit down and I'll bring the food. - Please...

- Where are you heading? - To Elsinore.

- I'd advise against a trip like that. - Why, if I may ask?

The plague is going down the coast. People are dying in their tens of thousands.

- Trouble always brings his brother. - Follow me through the woods.

You can stay at my estate or follow the east coast. You'll be safer.

They're wood strawberries. They grow on the hill.

I've never seen them so big. Smell how fragrant they are.

- Enjoy the fare. - I thank you respectfully.

I think your suggestion is good, but I must consider first.

It would be nice to have company through the wood.

It's full of ghosts, devils and thieves, so I heard.

I said it wasn't bad, but I must consider it.

Since Skat left, I'm responsible for the troupe.

- I've become the manager, after all. - "I've become the manager, after all."

- Would you like some strawberries? - That man saved my life.

- Sit down and join us. - Jiins the squire conveys his thanks.

- Oh, it's so nice. - For a short while.

Almost always. One day is much like the next.

Not so strange.

Summer is better than winter, because you don't freeze.

But spring is the very best.

I wrote a poem about spring. I'll fetch my lute.

Not now, Jof! Our guests might not be entertained by your verses.

- Please. I write songs myself. - There you are.

I have one about an unchaste fish you may not have heard.

Aye, you won't hear it, either.

Some people don't appreciate my art, and I don't wish to torment anyone.

- One worries so much. - It's better when you are a couple.

- Don't you have anyone? - Yes, I do...

- What is she doing now? - I don't know.

You look so solemn. Was she your sweetheart?

We were newlyweds, played together, laughed quite a lot.

I wrote songs to her eyes, her nose, her exquisite, small ears.

We went on hunts. In the evening we danced, the house was full of life.

Would you like some strawberries?

Faith is a heavy burden, do you know that?

It's like loving someone in the dark who never comes, no matter how you call.

But all of that seems unreal, when I sit here with you and your husband.

It's suddenly insignificant.

Now you don't look so solemn.

I will remember this moment.

The stillness and the dusk.

The bowl of wild strawberries, the bowl of milk...

Your faces in the evening light.

Mikael lying asleep, Jofwith his lute.

I will try and remember what we spoke of.

And I will carry this memory between my hands,

as carefully as if it were a bowl brimming with freshly milked milk.

And this will be a sign for me... and greatly fulfilling.

I have been waiting.

Forgive me, I was somewhat delayed.

As I've given away my strategy, I will retreat.

Go ahead. It's your move.

- Why do you look so pleased? - That's my secret.

Naturally. I will take your knight now.

You were right to do so.

- Have you tricked me? - Of course, you fell into the trap!

I put you in check.

- What are you laughing at? - No matter. Save your king instead.

- You are quite arrogant. - Our game amuses me.

It's your move. Be quick, I'm in a hurry.

I know you are busy, but you won't avoid our game. It will take its time.

You're travelling with the jesters through the woods?

The two called Jof and Mia... who have a little son?

Why do you ask?

No reason.

- Have you seen Jens? We must go. - I believe he's in the inn.

Good heavens. If it isn't Plog the blacksmith.

- Evening. - Are you snivelling all alone?

Yes, the blacksmith's sobbing and wailing like a soaked rabbit.

- Still the wife? - Yes. I haven't found her.

Yes, it's hell with women and hell without them.

Logical to kill them when it's at its best.

- Henpecking and swills. - Screaming babies and wet nappies.

- Sharp nails and malice. - The Devil's aunt as mother-in-law.

- Then when you're going to sleep... - Another tune...

Tears, complaints and laments by the sackful.

- "Why don't you kiss me?" - "Why don't you sing?"

- "Why don't you love me like before?" - "Why don't you eye my new shift?"

- "You just turn your back and snore." - Oh, hell...

Oh, hell... She's gone now! Be happy!

I'm going to pinch them in the nose with my pliers.

I'm going to pound them on the chest with the little hammer.

I'm going to crack them lightly on the head with the sledgehammer.

Look, he's blubbering again!

- Maybe I love her. - Maybe you love her?

Listen, you moron, love is another word for lust,

plus lust, plus lust, plus a lot of deception, falsehoods and trickery.

- But it hurts anyway. - Love is the blackest of all plagues.

If you died from it, there'd be some joy. But it almost always passes.

- No, mine won't pass. - Oh, yes, yours, too!

There are only a few poor dullards now and then who die of love.

If all is imperfect in this imperfect world,

then love is most imperfect in its perfect imperfection.

You're lucky to have such a fluid tongue that you believe your own twaddle.

Believe? Who said I believe it? But I love giving good advice.

Ask for one and you get two. So I'm actually a learned chap.

Jéns! Can I follow you through the woods?

I'm so lonely and don't want to go home as they all laugh at me.

As long as you don't sob all the time or we'll leave you.

Jéns!

- My little brother... - Watch out, Jéns!

- He just wants to fight. - He's sobbing now.

I'm really sorry if I harmed you, but I have such a temper.

Take my hand.

- Let me embrace you, little brother. - A little later, maybe.

We're actually in a hurry. Thanks, thanks.

Ah, what do I see?

Who is it looms out of the edge of the forest,

if not My Most Treasured with attached actor!

Watch it!

You must be the dirty blacksmith that humiliated my beloved Kunigunda.

- What did you say her name was? - Kunigunda. Are you deaf?

Her name's Lisa. Lisa Daft or Sloven or Tart.

- Drawerless Hussy or Arse Lisa. - Goodness, he's base!

I'm just good at sleaze, not unlike yourself, you gilded bawd-pudding.

Oh, he's base!

You awful, cropped bastard of seven mangey mongrels.

If I were in your infested rags, I'd be afflicted by such boundless shame

that I'd free nature from my embarrassing countenance.

- Watch it, you perfumed... - Powder-puff.

Powder-puff...

that I don't let off a fart

that will assign you to the juggler's inferno in a flash,

where you can sit together and...

Read soliloquies.

...read soliloquies to one another until dust forms in the Devil's ears.

Well said!

Careful I don't poke your belly so your intestines flow out your ears.

Careful I don't smack you so you can't even play for Turks and cannibals.

What are you laughing at? This is serious.

In southern lands, there is a man-like animal called an ape.

- What of it? - Just that...

- Plog, my only Plog. - What?

- What? - Darling Plog, forgive me everything.

- She'll start crying in a minute. - I have to cry. It's awful.

That man deceived me so badly, you won't believe.

- Kunigunda, if the truth will out... - And now for his favourite dishes.

Plog, when we get home I'll make dumplings for you

with mashed turnips and lingonberries which is your favourite.

- Isn't that so, Plog? - Yes, but I have to kill him first.

Yes, kill him. Kill him really properly.

- I don't like him at all anymore. - God, why did you give us woman?

You know what he is? Just a false beard, false teeth,

false smiles, rehearsed intonation and empty as a jar.

- Go ahead and kill him. - My dear Plog...

If you thought I'd defend my so-called reality, you're mistaken.

- Kill me. I'll thank you... afterwards. - What are you saying?

He's created confusion. Already half a victory.

- Do something, don't just stand there! - He has to fight or I can't kill him.

He has to provoke me so I get angry like before.

Dear friend, I lower this dagger to my breast.

And my reality will quickly transform into a new, solid reality.

The absolute manifestation of the corpse.

Wait... I didn't mean it like that.

I forgive you, Kunigunda. Farewell, my friend, pray for me sometime.

Oh, dear... Oh, dear...

I didn't mean it like that. I started to really like him.

He's absolutely dead. I've almost never seen such a dead actor.

It's really sad, although he wanted it himself, poor thing.

- And I'm married to her... - Well, you got your little Lisa back.

- Aren't you happy? - Jens, in the strictest confidence...

- Isn't life quite... - Yes, it is.

But don't think about it.

It's mad, that's what it is.

That was a good performance. I'm nothing if not a good actor.

I'll find a tree and climb it.

So no bears, wolves or ghosts can get hold of me.

I'll find Jof and Mia tomorrow, then we'll go to the All Saints Festival.

I'll sing a song to myself.

I'm a little bird who sings how I want...

Craftsmen in the forest... How nice.

By God, it's my tree he's sawing down!

Hey, you dozy cockerel! What are you doing to my tree?

Can't you answer? Courtesy is cheap. Who are you?

I'm sawing down your tree, as your time is up.

- That's not possible. I don't have time. - Haven't you got time?

- I've got a performance. - It's cancelled. Because of a death.

- But my contract! - Annulled.

- My family and my children... - Shame on you, Skat!

I'm ashamed, I'm ashamed...

Aren't there any acquittals? Any special rules for actors?

No, not in this case.

No loopholes, no exceptions?

The moon just came out from behind the clouds.

Good. We'll see the road better.

- I don't like the moon tonight. - The trees are so still.

- That's because there isn't any wind. - He means they are I/e/ystill.

It's completely quiet.

- If we just heard a fox, at least. - Or an owl.

Or a human voice. Beside one's own.

- Where are you going? - To the stake.

I see, it's the witch. Why burn her in the middle of the night?

- People lack amusement nowadays. - Quiet, by all the dev... saints.

- She has the Devil with her. - Then you men are eight brave men.

Well, we're paid. The task was voluntary.

Do you hear me?

- They say you worked with the Devil. - Why do you ask that?

Not out of curiosity, but for highly personal reasons.

- I also want to meet him. - Why?

I want to ask him about God.

He must know. He more than anyone.

- You can see him whenever you want. - How?

But then you must do as I say.

Look into my eyes.

Well? What do you see? Do you see him?

I see a rigid fear in your eyes.

Nothing else.

No one, nothing... no one...

No.

Isn't he standing behind your back either?

No. There's nothing here.

But he's with me everywhere.

I only need to put out my hand and I feel his.

He's with me now as well. The fire won't hurt me.

- Has he said so? - I know.

- Has he said so? - I know. I know.

You must see him somewhere, you must!

The priest had no trouble seeing him, nor the troops.

They're so scared of him, they dare not touch me.

- Why have you crushed her hands? - That wasn't us.

- Who? - Ask the monk over there.

What have you done to the girl?

Do you never cease asking?

No... I never cease.

But you get no answers.

I thought about killing the guard, but it won't help. She's almost dead.

I told you to watch out! Don't go near her!

Eat this and the pain will go.

- What does she see? Can you answer? - She's not in pain anymore.

You're not answering my question. Who will take care of that child?

Is it the angels or God or Satan or just emptiness?

- Emptiness, sire... - It can't be so!

Look at her eyes.

Her poor consciousness is perceiving something.

- Emptiness under the moon. - No.

We stand powerless with hanging arms, as we see what she sees.

Our fear and hers are the same.

That little child...

I can't be bothered! I can't be bothered!

He sings so beautifully of Jesus Christ!

There is great joy in heaven

Dawn will break soon.

Yet the heat hangs like a damp blanket.

I'm so scared.

We feel something is going to happen to us, but we don't know what it is.

- Maybe the final day. - The final day.

Have you got any water? Can you give me some water?

- I've got the plague. - Keep to the other side of the stump!

I'm scared of dying! I don't want to die, I don't want to die!

Can't you take pity on me? Help me.

At least talk to me!

It doesn't help. It does not help.

I know it doesn't help at all.

I'm going to die. I... I...

What's going to happen to me? Can't you even comfort me?

Have you no mercy? Can't you see that I...

ls there no help? Can't I have any water?

It's meaningless. It's completely meaningless.

I said it's meaningless.

- Help me! - Can't you hear I'm comforting you?

- Shall we conclude our game? - It's your move.

I took your queen.

I didn't see that.

- What i-suit?

I see something terrible, something almost unspeakable.

- What do you see? - The knight is playing chess.

- I see that, too. It's not so terrible. - You see who he's playing with?

He's alone. Don't scare me like that.

No, no. He's not alone.

- Who is it? - Death. He's playing Death himself.

- Don't say that. - We must try and get away.

- We can't. - We must try.

They're engrossed in their game. If we leave quietly, they won't notice.

It's you move, Antonius Block.

Have you lost interest in our game?

Lost interest? On the contrary.

You look anxious. Are you concealing something?

- Nothing escapes you. Is that not so? - Nothing escapes me.

No one escapes me.

It is true, I'm anxious.

You are afraid.

I forget where the pieces were.

But I haven't forgotten.

You won't get away that easily.

- I see something interesting now. - What do you see?

You will be in Checkmate the next move.

True.

- Did you profit from your respite? - Yes, I did.

That pleases me.

I shall leave you now.

When we meet again,

you and your entourage's time will be over.

And you will reveal your secrets?

I carry no secrets.

- So you know nothing? - I am unknowing.

- Do you see that strange light? - It's the storm coming with the dawn.

It's something else, something terrible.

You hear the rumbling?

- It's probably the rain. - No, it's not the rain.

He's seen us, he's followed us, he's caught up to us, he's coming at us!

Get in the wagon, Mia. Let's get in, quickly!

It's the Angel of Death passing by, Mia. The Angel of Death.

- And he's very big. - Do you feel how cold it is?

I heard from returning crusaders that you were on your way home.

I've waited for you. All the others have fled the plague.

Don't you recognise me anymore?

You've also changed.

Now I can see it's you.

Somewhere in your eyes...

Somewhere in your face, but hidden and frightened...

...is that boy that set off all those years ago.

It's over now, and I'm a little tired.

- Do you regret your journey? - No.

I don't regret anything. But I'm a little tired.

I can see.

My friends are here.

Ask them to come in. I shall lay the table for breakfast.

"And when the Lamb opened the Seventh Seal,

"there was in heaven a silence,

"which lasted about the space of half an hour.

"And the seven angels, who had the seven trumpets,

"prepared themselves to sound.

"The first angel sounded,

"and there followed hail and fire mingled with blood.

"And they were cast upon the earth.

"And a third of the earth was burnt up,

"and a third of all trees was burnt up,

"and all green grass was burnt up.

"And the second angel sounded,

"and a great mountain burning with fire

"was cast into the sea.

"And a third of the sea became blood."

Was there anyone there?

No, sire. I saw no one.

"And the third angel sounded.

"And there fell a great star from heaven,

"burning as it were a lamp.

"And the name of the star is called Wormwood."

Good day, noble sire.

I am Karin, wife of the knight.

I bid you a courteous welcome to my home.

I am a blacksmith by trade and quite good, if I say so myself.

My wife, Lisa.

Curtsey for the honourable sire, Lisa.

She's a little difficult at times and we've had a little affray,

but no worse than most people.

In our darkness, we call out to you Lord.

O, God, have mercy on us.

For we are small, afraid and without knowledge.

In that darkness where you claim to reside,

where we probably all reside,

you'll find no one that listens to your complaint

or is moved by your suffering.

Dry your tears, mirror your apathy.

God, you that exist somewhere,

that must exist somewhere, have mercy on us.

I had a herb to purge your anxiety over the eternal. Now it's too late.

Feel in this final minute the triumph of rolling your eyes and moving your toes.

Quiet, quiet.

I'll be quiet, but under protest!

It is finished.

Mia! I can see them, Mia.

I can see them. Over there, under the storm-laden skies.

They're all there.

The blacksmith and Lisa,

the Knight and Raval, Jiins and Skat.

And the grim master, Death, invites them to dance.

He wants them to hold hands and dance in a long line.

And the grim master leads with his scythe and hourglass.

Skat brings up the rear with his lyre.

They move away, away from the dawn,

in a solemn dance, away to the dark country.

Whilst the rain washes over their faces,

and cleans their cheeks of salty tears.

You and your dreams and visions!