Original subtitles

In the middle of the 16th century, after long and bloody battles, Hungary was torn into 3 parts.

West Hungary became the property of the Habsburg Empire while the central part was seized by of the Turkish Sultan.

Transylvania remained the last bastion of free Hungarians. There was a bloody fight for the throne of the Principality.

Finally, in 1608, the youngest member of the ancient Báthory family, Gabriel Báthory, came to the throne,

and the three nations of Transylvania hoped he would finally bring peace.

The young prince wore a medallion around his neck, the origin of which was surrounded by dark legends,

and Gabriel Báthory believed in legends.

Welcome, Your Highness!

Long live Báthory! Long live the Prince!

The horsemen are coming. Here comes the Prince.

Long live Báthory! Hurrah!

Glory to the Prince! Long live Báthory!

Long live the Prince!

Long live the Prince! Long live Gabriel Báthory!

My lord, great prince. Have mercy on me.

I am hungry.

Thank you.

Thank you.

- Imreffy. - Welcome, Your Highness.

We have been looking forward to having you at home finally.

Is everyone here?

Yes, of course. The lords of all three nations of Transylvania are here. And the Turkish Sultan sent Iskender Pasha here.

Take this, wife.

The Hungarians, the Székelys and the Saxons all want to see the new prince of Transylvania.

Take the horses to the stables.

Is Bethlen here?

He was among the first ones to arrive. He escorted the Princess inside.

- So, Her Highness my wife is also here. - And she is eagerly waiting for meeting you.

Johanna.

She already met me on our wedding day. Was that not enough?

That was last year, my lord.

So what? I have been busy.

Well, with the campaign, yes. But, Your Highness, the wedding took place one year ago

and you still have not consummated the marriage. You have duties both as prince and as man.

Then I will put some tutsan in it, to help the man.

None of your business.

I need no help. No one has complained yet.

Well, go, Imfreffy, and write a list of those who have come.

But, Your Highness... What if my husband comes back?

Let him come back. He has just said that a man has such important duties.

- And he is so right. - I agree.

And a prince does his duty, doesn't he?

Yes...

FAIRY GARDEN AGE OF TEMPTATIONS

THE DRAGON BREAKS FREE

My lords.

Bánffy, where is your brother?

Oh, the poor man's gout has come back, he can't even mount a horse.

- He could have come in a cart. - No way. He just lies in bed and moans all day.

My poor brother!

What is so funny, my dear Michael Weiss?

- Bethlen! - I want to hear the joke too.

Ah, I was just telling the gentlemen some Saxon pranks.

Imreffy, where is the Prince?

He is having a bath, my lord.

Welcome.

Gabriel Bethlen! We did it. Would you have thought back then? When we were cleaning the stables?

- I told you so back then too, Your Highness. - Hey, why are you calling me 'Your Highness'?

I will always be 'Gabriel' for you, you hear me? And this is my command as prince, so you better watch out.

As you command, my prince.

A Báthory is always born to rule. And you are the ruler now, Gabriel.

Come, there will be someone here soon who will make you very happy.

Thank you.

It is an honour.

How he is hugging Bethlen...

He deserves it. He put him on the throne.

How has that nobody Bethlen become such an important person?

Kamuthy.

How are you, Farkas?

Fine. What about the Saxons?

We have had a good year, thank God.

I can believe that. You always fare well.

Being captain of the guards suits you. Tell us, do you have a lot to do?

If I will, we will deal with it.

You have a beautiful sword. But you have a beautiful wife, too. Where is she?

At home. She is in childbed.

What a shame.

We have heard that your prince likes to have the young wives around him,

not confined within four walls in their homes with their children.

Who would want to sleep with this skinny, skrawny kid?

- He is no man. - You say so?

Well, as far as I can see, dear Boldizsár,

your wife may secretly long for a skinny prince just like him.

How beautiful, Kornisné.

Thank you, Your Highness.

I mean your earrings are beautiful.

Although...

Gábris, Gábris!

Hey, slow down! You will knock me over. You are no longer as light as you were in Ecsed.

Anna, what are youg doing? Your Highness.

One should not jostle the Prince of Transylvania.

- What is wrong? - Our parents cannot see this.

They would be so proud of you.

Anna, your mother can see everything from above, you do know that.

- And now, start behaving like... - Leave her be, Nyáryné. She is just a child.

I was already married at 14.

How lucky your dear husband must have been. I envy him.

- How cheerful the little orphans are. - Of course they are. It is time for lust again.

Even when they were living in their uncle's castle in Ecsed, they could not stop themselves.

Rumor has it they were carrying on with each other, too.

Well, maybe. She is a pretty girl.

Boy, bring more wine.

I already know this one.

Your Highness. According to my list, György Bánffy is the only one who did not come.

His brother Dénes represents him as well. György is ill. He is suffering from gout.

Gout, is it? Well, those men there are not suffering from anything, as I see.

Go and find out what they are laughing at.

Come, Gabriel, we have to greet Iskender Pasha.

I don't "have to" do anything.

Is my wife ready now?

Are you ready, Bebekné? Or should I help you? The Princess is the only one we are still waiting for.

God forbid.

- My lady. We should go now. - Give my strength...

- for patience, for courage, for sacrifice... - Please.

Give me strength, Lord, to be a loving wife and bless our marriage with a child.

What is this?

I think this is why they were laughing. It is a poem if I am correct.

Gabriel, the skrawny pup, In the evening, drowns in cheap wine,

The kid does nothing but eats and drinks, And pisses in bed every night.

- Who wrote this? - I don't know, my lord.

Someone who didn't even dare to show his face in here.

The elder Bánffy brother. Gout, sure...

Who would dare to come here after writing such a poem?

It was the fat-head's brother. And he is laughing at me now.

Where is my wife?

She is still getting dressed.

Bebekné. Do not keep the Prince waiting any longer.

He also kept the poor woman waiting for a whole year while he was on campaign or whatever.

He will survive a few more minutes, will he not?

Now and forever. Amen.

My lady, we really don't have any more time.

My hair needs to be combed.

- But, the Prince... - Comb my hair.

Yes, my lady.

Captain-general! What do you think you are doing?

A lady is getting dressed here! Get out right away! Go!

I am at my wit's end...

I have waited enough. And so has Transylvania.

No one can...

I have been waiting for you.

And I for you.

Illustrissime Princeps.

Your Highness.

Ruler of the three nations of Transylvania.

We waited a long time to see if someone would come who would reunite Hungarian hearts

and make a whole vessel out of the broken shards.

This man is none other than the Prince of Transylvania, Gabriel Báthory.

This will be Elizabeth Báthory. Go get her chambers ready.

- But she is the devil herself. - Go now, girl.

My lady.

- Have they started? - Yes, my lady.

Imfreffyné is waiting for you.

These Transylvanian roads shake the soul out of a you.

..not when they spill each other's blood, because you can only thrive in peace.

And you, our great princess, Anna Palocsai,

it will be Your Highness's mission to make sure that the Prince of Transylvania can rule in peace and love.

You must love Gabriel Báthory as Gabriel Báthory loves this small country, our fairy garden.

For Transylvania is a small country,

and history teaches us that small countries cannot survive using force and war, but having reason and peace.

The key to the peace in Transylvania is that the nations must love each other with brotherly love.

We should let some fresh air into the room, it is too stuffy with so many Báthory in here.

..the children of the same homeland.

Gabriel Báthory, you are the prince of Transylvania.

May your actions be guided by the courage of your family, the wisdom of your ancestors, and the love for your homeland.

Ever since she became a widow, Elizabeth Báthory has been the wealthiest landowner in Hungary after the Palatine.

Well, then I know why I haven't gotten married yet.

..but you may not forget the fifth point in the princely letter of credence, according to which,

for the sake of peace in Transylvania, you must pay the tax, determined by the Sultan, to the Turkish tax collectors

every spring and autumn.

And now, let the Prince speak.

Peace is a nice thing, but I believe in blood and justice.

Transylvania used to be great and respected by everyone.

Today, it is small and everyone thinks us a doormat.

But we are Transylvanians and we do not tolerate that.

I will not tolerate it either. I did not become prince to do that.

And if you are with me, Transylvania will be not only beautiful but also great. And proud.

Are you with me?

- Yes! - Yes!

Long live the Prince! Long live Gabriel Báthory!

Kept waiting by that bitch! My own wife!

I sat there alone for hours like some country-clown.

- How dare she do this to me? - She too had waited long enough.

Did I want it that way?

I didn't even know who she was. My uncle imposed the marriage upon me.

She is like a nun. Her hands are so cold, as if she were dead.

While Iskender Pasha was grinning in the front row because he thinks the Turks will order about Transylvania forever.

And then you start preaching about how small Transylvania is, and how important peace is,

and that there is no need to fight.

Hajdús have been seen here in Transylvania. They say Gabriel Báthory invited them.

They also say Gabriel Bethlen put me on the throne. And I am but Bethlen's puppet.

Hajdús are bloody murderers, they are only interested in money and robbery.

A prince has no business with them. The country wants peace. All three nations.

- What about what I want? Does it not matter? - Of course it does.

For example, I want to know who wrote that mock-poem about me

that your great peace-loving lords were passing among themselves while laughing in my face.

What mock-poem?

It could only be Bánffy.

- Which Bánffy? - The elder one. György.

That damn bastard didn't even come.

What do I need to do to be taken seriously finally?

To rule with pious patience and wisdom.

Are you asking pious patience of a Báthory?

There are dragon's teeth in our coat of arms. And geese in the Bethlen coat of arms.

Maybe that is why it is difficult for us to understand each other.

Those geese are swans, Gabriel.

Swans, then. Doesn't matter. Big, awkward birds.

They pick up the crumbs that are thrown in front of them.

You are a good man, Gabriel Bethlen.

But my ancestors were princes and kings of Poland. And your ancestors were their servants.

My lord Bánffy. Give my best regards to your brother. I wish him a quick recovery.

Alright. I will pass on your message to him.

And then tell him also to write an apology to the Prince.

Let him apologize for today, perhaps accompanied by some gifts.

- György is not that apologetic type of man. - But our Prince is that proud type of man.

He takes it hard when his servants laugh at him.

No Bánffy will ever be the servant of that drunken kid.

Hey!

Anna, eat, please.

Gabriel. A little surprise.

What is it? Has my aunt brought her whip too?

My whip?

Rumor has it mortal screams of tortured maids break the silence of the downhills of Csejte every night.

I see I also have well-wishers in Transylvania. I am not surprised.

György Thurzó, Palatine of Hungary, sends you this. Along with his best wishes.

And he would like the leaders of the two parts of the country to meet as soon as possible.

- What does he want from me? - How should I know? I am just a woman.

Anna, behave yourself.

I guess he wants to convince you that Transylvania is part of Hungary and always has been.

Should I give my country to him?

They have been saying this for thirty years.

And what advice would you give me, Aunt?

Keep the sword.

My lady! Johanna!

My lady, I have already explained a thousand times that a prince's sister does not do whatever she likes,

she obeys because her job is to...

The lady is having a bath.

What a great idea!

- Move over. - But, Your Highness...

Oh, look, she is a grown woman now. I will have to marry you off soon.

You know who you are marrying off!

Tell me, which stableboy do you like, hm?

Bastard!

I've told you, His Highness loves Your Highness.

You two look so good together. Oh, don't be silly.

Don't be scared of the blood, ma'am. That is how the Prince will know he is with a virgin.

Well...

Do not be afraid of the pain. That is natural.

Give me the strength, Lord, to love my husband as the Virgin Mary loved her only son.

Give strength, Lord, to face my destiny as a woman, to be patient, to wait, to make sacrifices.

Sleep tight, little sister. We will have some time tomorrow.

Then the stableboy will come and take you away.

Stop it.

Don't go just yet. It has been so long since we last met.

- I have to go, Anna. - Where?

That is none of your business.

To consummate the marriage?

But you don't even like her. I can see that you don't like her.

So what?

She is your wife. Why did you marry her, then?

You can't understand this yet. Everything has a price.

This is politics.

Doesn't matter. Sleep.

Only if you tell me a story.

The story of the medallion.

The swamps of Ecsed were so deep that they were said to be bottomless.

The swamps were constantly undulating, they were never frozen, not even in winter.

Because a mysterious ancient beast lived deep in the swamps: the dragon of Ecsed.

For centuries, every single adult and child had been frightened of it.

Because the dragon emerged from the dark waters of the swamps at night and took whomever it wanted.

But one day, many, many years ago, our ancestor, the first Báthory, confronted the beast.

He fought with it for seven days and seven nights,

and in the end, with one perfect thrust, he plunged his sword into the dragon's heart.

When word got out that Báthory had defeated the dragon, people celebrated.

And the village blacksmith made a medallion for him

so that the Báthory would forever remember their ancestor who dared to fight the dragon.

And since then, the medallion has been passed down from father to son for 500 years.

And it always hangs around the neck of the Báthory who can defeat even the most terrifying beast.

I missed you so much, Gabriel.

And now go to sleep.

I know you will defeat the dragon in the end.

- Our holy patron, you... - I am leaving now.

There is no other hope. If you do not come, we are lost.

Give me strength, Lord, to love my husband as the Virgin Mary loved her only son.

Give strength, Lord, to face my destiny as a woman, to be patient, to wait, to make sacrifices.

Give me strength, Lord, to be a loving wife, and bless our marriage with a child...

Let us go to Sólyomkő. I can't breathe here.

- Now? - Yeah.

Tell Bethlen that the Prince has left Kolozsvár.

Your Highness.

Our Prince was unexpectedly called away by state affairs.

State affairs?

Did he leave any message?

When will he come home?

My lady,

I will make a nice poppied concoction.

Get out. Everyone!

Go! Go!

My lady.

My lady. Captain-General Bethlen is here.

Your Highness.

Do not be polite. Be honest.

Whoever marries the prince marries the country.

A prince's wife has to endure a lot.

And the prince may have, at any time, sudden engagements...

Or state affairs.

Am I right?

You are saying I have to endure a lot.

I have been married for a year. My husband left me on the night of our wedding and I have not seen him since.

But I was enduring and I was waiting.

And then?

Tell me, Gabriel Bethlen, but honestly: why would it have hurt the country if my husband had spent the night with me?

Anna Palocsai cannot be loved? Only the country can be loved?

- It-it is hard for women to understand this. - Then help me understand.

Do not be selfish, my lady.

Me?

We all make our own sacrifices. Do you think I didn't give up anything for Transylvania?

We are being harassed by the Habsburgs from the west and the Turks from the east.

There is only one tiny island left for Hungarians where we can still be free, and that is Transylvania.

And there is only one person who can give hope to the fragmented Hungarians

to survive and one day be reunited, and this person is your husband.

The Prince of Transylvania.

I too could have been a rich man, a chamberer of the Habsburgs or a servant of the Turks.

But I am not. Because this is my homeland.

And I am happy, madam, that I can fight for Transylvania.

My lady.

Every single sacrifice you make, every pain you endure, you do it for Transylvania and Hungarians.

And indeed for Gabriel Báthory as well.

For the survival of Hungarians is in his hands now.

Do you believe me, my lady?

Well, I think you'd better get dressed and get some fresh air.

What did you give me to eat? I never vomit.

You didn't even eat anything. You only drank.

A whole barrel.

Wine has never turned my stomach upside down like this before.

Fetch me something to drink.

- I think you should rather... - You want to tell me what to do?

You are not my mother.

You could be, though.

What?

- What did you say? - Calm down.

Is this what I deserve? Am I your footcloth?

Shut up! You sound like an old woman.

Like a what? My age has not bothered you so far,

when you were making vows on your knees like a puppy,

when you climbed through the fence, wrote love poems and promised all kinds of things.

Tastes change.

You want that peachy little lady, don't you? You think I didn't see the way you looked at Kordisné?

- The little bitch! The way she painted her face... - Good thing I am ruining my life here...

- Ruining? Who asked you to come here? - Shut up! Or I will have your tongue cut out!

Do they treat you well?

Do you have enough food?

We do, Your Highness.

In the trough, for the horses.

What about wine? Do you get that?

Barely. They say there is none.

It has been a bad year. There was hardly any crop.

Well, if there is none, we will get some.

The Saxons had a good harvest.

The Saxons are made of money. Is that fair, my lord?

The Saxons have everything, while the Hungarians have nothing?

Hajdús! Hajdús! Hajdús are coming!

Stand to! Ready!

- What are you doing? - Hajdús are coming, my lord.

It was about time.

Your Highness.

András Nagy. From which gallows did you take this chicken thief off?

- Your Highness. - András Géczi.

What is up under the skirts of the girls in Upper Hungary?

Dead silence, ever since I am not there.

- Well, here we are, Your Highness. - You were in no hurry.

We stopped here and there, whenever we got hungry.

Come in. You will not go hungry here.

Keep moving.

Come on, come on. Another cartload of bludgers is coming.

Fortunately.

What are you doing?

- I am peeling carrots, ma'am. - Carrots? Do you think rabbits are coming for lunch?

- But, ma'am, I just... - Now go and get some meat.

If you can't, I will shove all the carrots down your throat. And those you can't swallow will end up in your buttocks.

Take this to the blacksmith...

- Klári! - Yes?

Aunt, take me with you to Csejte.

What for? There is nothing for you there.

It doesn't matter, I just want to be somewhere else.

With someone else. I want to see the world.

In Csejte? Under the ground?

Anywhere. Just take me with you. Please.

Alright. I will ask that parched haricot if I can take you for a few weeks.

They say that the Hajdús have no home.

And that the Hajdús are but robbers and murderers.

But I know what kind of men you are.

Brave. Bold. And you love your homeland.

And I need men just like that.

I would go with Your Highness even to the end of the world.

But how should we go if even the horse drops down under us?

While the missus and the kid are starving at home.

There is a lord here. György Bánffy.

The poor thing has a gouty waist. It needs treatment.

- Gout? That can be painful. - But he is still able to write.

And he wrote a poem about me. Have you heard about it?

We don't read many poems nowadays, Your Highness.

Pity. For where there is poem, there is meat. And gold.

That's a start.

Where is that great poet?

- Where is your master? - Upstairs. In the chapel.

Now which is that gouty one?

He is over there.

But he doesn't feel gout anymore.

Gabriel, listen.

He didn't write that poem. He had been unconscious for days.

Who wrote it, then?

Rumor has it it was Michael Weiss. The Saxon mayor of Brassó.

Of course. It's them, again.

After Kolozsvár, he fled straight to Szeben. To his own kind.

He is a cautious fox.

My deepest condolences.

Let's go.

- We have been promised prey here. - Get your hands off me. Right now.

There will be prey in the Saxon cities.

That would be too late for us.

Hey, boys!

- Get out of there! - Out!

Go!

Drive them out!

Leave! Leave them alone! Leave the farmers alone! Don't go there! No...

Don't look there! Come here!

Oh, my God!

- Leave me alone! Leave me alone! No! - Hey! Fall back!

- Leave us alone! - I said, fall back!

Don't!

- Stop them! - Get out of here!

Let's run away!

No.

Leave me alone!

Let go of her! Let go of her!

Father. Father, no!

Call your dogs back! You hear me?

Hey, hey! What are you doing there?

Water! Bring water!

Don't. There are too many of them.

Father, please, no...

Now, Your Highness, we can leave now.

Love and peace, right?

Tell me, Bethlen, is this what you had in mind when you made the dragon kid the prince?