All language subtitles for The Name of the Rose s01e01.eg

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"Libera me Domine de morte aeterna
in die illa tremanda."

"Quando coeli movendi sunt et terra
veneris iudicare saeculum."

"Tremens factus sum ego et timeo,
dum discussio venerit et ira."

Father.

I brought you here for one
reason: to learn to fight.

He's finished.

Let's go.

Having reached the end
of my sinful life,

I prepare to leave my testimony

as to the wondrous and terrible events

that I happened to
witness in my youth.

I was a novice in the Benedictine
abbey of Melk.

My father,
a general to the Holy Roman Emperor

coerced me away from my studies.
I had to fight with him in Italy.

Take her.

He said that we were
fighting a right just war,

there are no such things
as right just wars.

You can not change the
world by killing.

I was 17 years old at the time

and my life was about
to change forever.

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Remember, when you
will leave this earth,

you can take nothing you have received,

but only what you have given.

We are all God's children.

Each one is our brother.

The world is like a great book.

You must learn to
read it correctly.

There is only one way to battle
against ignorance and hatred,

use knowledge to better
the human race

Come, brother. Come and join us.

Come.

- Come.
- Don't touch me.

You are welcomed here.

The outcast...

I was moved by the desire of the truth

and by the suspicion that
until now

it was not what I was told.

So say nothing...

The Franciscan's words
instructed me

as my father's never had.

Why are you following me?

Because you are interesting.

That is not a good reason
for following anyone.

I'm afraid I must continue
my journey alone, my friend.

_

William of Baskerville, the emperor
thanks you for your services.

- General.
- Be sitting.

This is what he hopes will
be achieved from the Debate.

We are feating the Pope's steel.
Now it's your turn with words.

I'm making this journey to serve
and protect my Order.

I'm perfectly aware
that you're backing the

Franciscans to use
us against the Pope.

Who intends to destroy you.

By accepting the Emperor's support
you are giving us yours.

Eat.

Religious people think
they can ignore politics.

Nonsense.
Religion is politics.

I keep trying get that into my son's
head, to no avail, of course.

He wants to be a monk.

I am... Surely he
has his reasons.

And I have mine.

Bigheaded, stubborn
like his late mother.

Perhaps he is simply a coward.

Why did you become Franciscan?

I heard the story
of Giovanni di Bernardino

a rich, young man, and his conversion.

How he rejected his father and mother.

Threw off his velvet
clothes, rolled them into

bundle and placed them
at his father's feet and said:

"These belong to you.
Take them. We're equals now."

This man became Saint Francis.

Which may I ask is your son's name?

Adso. Why do you ask?

Curiosity.

Do you know him?

No, that I know.

Why did you come so far
to meet with that bastard?

When I was a philosopher, I
doubted the world had an order.

Now I console to
discover if not an order,

at least a
series of connections,

in small areas
of the world's affairs.

Follow me, if you want to.

- My name is Adso.
- I know. Your father told me.

We had been walking for days,
from dawn to dusk,

often in silence.

We were heading north
to a famous Benedictine

abbey on a mountain range
in Northern Italy.

During our journey, William's
mission remained unknown to me.

While we imagined
a better world, he told me:

"Blind leaders drive blind
people towards the abyss."

_

This idle figure of Christ
has a purse at it's waist.

Just to remind people that our Lord
did not worship poverty

not even when he was on the cross.

A Church of paupers has no future.

And that's precisely the ruin the
damn Franciscans want to drag us to.

Your Holiness, this is not the ruin,
according to the Franciscans.

On the contrary, it is
just the rebirth of the Church.

In Florence we burned
a follower of Dolcino.

The stake!

The stake!

The stake!

I am Brother Bernard Gui,
Dominican inquisitor,

entrusted with authority
by His Holiness, the Pope,

sentence the prisoner,

a follower of the forbidden sect
of Fra Dolcino,

a poisoned fruit
of the Franciscan order, to death.

You are the Anti-Christ!

I see God everywhere, but
in you, bastard son of Satan!

Dolcino told you
when you tried to destroy us!

Saint Francis was just the beginning!

"Penitenziagite!"

William of Baskerville
was there as well.

I had to arrange for
him to meet with the

heretic before he
passed my judgement.

I need him to recant,
and you could help me.

Why would you imagine
that I have a chance of succeeding?

Well, you are two brothers.

Under the skin.

With a flash of that, grand
hypocrisy of his, he said to me...

Why should I judge my brother?

You should know that
Baskerville was chosen by the

Emperor to lead the Debate.

_

- What is this?
- An astrolabe.

For one to catch
heavenly bodies.

It gives us a picture of the sky.

Astronomers and navigators
use it to measure

the impair position in the
sky of a celestial body,

day or night.

To help us see the visible,
and the invisible.

Yes.

She looks hungry.

Here.

Food.

I don't...

Take it.

Merci.

She's from Occitanie.

The king of France is
making war with her people

like many others,
she is fleeing from her home.

It is useless that we wander
like a flock of sheep.

Three or four of you, you take that path

and the others...

May your day be blessed,
brother Franciscan.

And yours as well, young brother.

I'm the cellarer of the abbey.
We are looking for...

Thank you for interrupting
your search, brother.

The horse came this way, took
the trail to the right.

- It will not get far.
- Have you seen it?

We haven't seen him at all.
Have we, Adso?

But if you are
searching for Brunelus,

the horse can be
only be were I said.

Brunellus.
How do you know his name?

Come, come. It's obvious.
You're hunting for Brunellus,

the abbot's favorite horse.

15 hands, with a dark coat, full tail,
small and rounded hoofs,

and a very steady gait, a small head,
choppy ears, big eyes.

It went to the right. Now hurry,
you should continue your search.

Haven't we met somewhere
before, brother?

Not that I recall.

There is always a sinful pleasure

in being proved right. How I find it?

Come on, Adso. It's
not so difficult.

You yourself must have seen the
horse's footprints.

He broke off those twigs at about
five feet and I found these.

The land on the right
hand path leads to the cliffs,

because I saw it in the way up.

And the detailed
description of the animal?

I imagined a horse
I had not yet seen.

I'm not sure it has
those features,

but no doubt the monks
really believe it does.

They would be so concerned
about the horse

if it was important
to the abbot.

So I gave them the ideal features

that a good Benedictine
would expect on their master's animal.

What... And wha
about the name?

May the Holy Ghost
sharpen your mind, son.

What other name could it possibly have?

Brunellus, "brunus".

- Latin.
- For brown.

Yes.

Brother!

The abbot will be forever
grateful to you, brother.

He loves this horse.

- You're William of Baskerville.
- So you do know me.

Not exactly, is that the abbot
was speaking about you, you see

He was expecting your visit,
but not so soon.

This explains everything.

Our brother Adelmo fell
to his death last night.

We still don't know how,
nor why he died.

I will call together the whole monastery

after we read the psalms at Sixth.

Brother William of Baskerville is here.

Perhaps, Berengar,

you could prepare the body
for the burial?

William of Baskerville.

What an unfortunate time. God has
decided to put me through the test.

I was very pleased to know that
once you acted as inquisitor

that in numerous cases
you decided decided

that the accused were innocent.

Inquisitors often,
to demonstrate their zeal,

will arrest a confession at all costs.

Inquisitors can be pulled
by the devil.

So I've abandoned that
noble activity and now I

concern myself with other
delicate questions.

And I would like to deal with
the one that is distressing you

if you would speak to me, father.

In the dark hours of last night,

one of our finest illustrators,

Adelmo da Otranto... Well,
you have seen.

He likely fell during the snow storm

that blew in so furiously from the west.

God have mercy on him.

Given the battering that
his poor body suffered,

determining the precise point from
which he had fallen was not easy.

Certainly from one
of the windows

that open in rows on the
side of the tower.

I see. I see that your
problem is the following.

If that unhappy youth, God forbid it,
committed suicide

you'd not allowed the body into
the church and I believe this

morning you'd
have found the windows open.

Whereas you found them closed,

with no sign of water at the
foot of any of them.

- Who told you this?
- You told me.

If the window had been opened,
you'd have inmediately

thought he
throwed himself out of it.

From what I could tell from the
outside, they are large windows

And windows of that sort,
in buildings of this

size, are not usually
placed at a man?s height.

So, even if th window had been open,

it would?ve been impossible
for the unfortunate

man to lean out and
lose his balance. Thus

suicide would have been
the only conceivable explanation.

But since you will give
him a Christian burial,

the windows
must have been closed.

If it was closed,

then obviously the presumed suicide
was, on the contrary, pushed

And you are wondering
who was capable, I will not say of

pushing him into the abyss,

but of hoisting him to the sill.

This is it.

But how do you know there was no
water at the foot of any windows?

'Cause you told me the wind
was blowing from the west,

so the water could
not be driven against windows

that open to the east.

I've been told about your great
intelligence too, brother,

but doesn't
do you justice, I see.

It is all just as you have said.

And none commits a murder
without a reason.

However perverse.

- Nothing else?
- Nothing else I can say to you.

You mean there's nothing
else you have the power to say.

Brother William.

Brother William,

please, help me to find Adelmo's
assasins before the delegates arrive.

Imagine if the Pope would learn
that here, in God's house...

Who has access to the tower at night?

No one. It is absolutely
forbidden to everyone.

And who has the key?

The librarians, Malachi of Hildesheim
and his assistant Berengar.

May I question the monks?

You may.

May I move freely about the abbey?

I grant you that power.

I must confess that I already had a
great desire to visit the library

which is spoken of with admiration
at all the abbeys of Christendom.

No. No. I cannot allow you to enter.
No one may, no one can.

Even if you manage to enter,
this library can protect itself.

It is as invulnerable
as the truths it harbors.

And it is cleverly deceptive as the
falsehood it protects. It is a maze.

You might enter
and then you might never get out of it.

No one but the librarians can enter.

It has always been this way.

In Crete they built a
maze that hides a monster.

No monsters in our library,
books, only books,

lots of books.

How can I study Adelmo's death
if I don't see the place

where the
story of the death may have begun?

Brother William,

a man who has described my horse
without seeing it,

and the death of Adelmo knowing
virtually nothing of the case

should have no difficulties studying

places to which he
does not have access.

As you wish. You are
wise and you are severe.

If I were ever wise, it was
because I know how to be severe.

Why is the Pope sending
his people here?

You said something about
protecting the Order.

The Order of Saint Francis.

Yes.The Pope's envoys are
connected to my business here.

and the very future of the Church.

It's the pig. They're killing a pig.

When I was a little boy,
my father made me do it,

I was meant to be a man.

I had to bury a knife
in its heart

while I held it down with
a knee on its neck.

Made me deaf for days.

There has been a
landslide obviously

during the night
caused by the storm.

The earth moved, and
carried this

poor young man body down
below the east tower

where it was found, broken.

The more I think about
it, the more I'm convinced

that Adelmo threw
himself on his own

free will from the
parapet of this walls.

Why is that?

If Adelmo felt from the east tower,
he must have got into the library

someone must have struck him.

and then this person must have
somehow climbed up to the window

with a lifeless body
on his back, opening it

and pitch the
helpless monk down.

With my hypothesis,

we need only Adelmo, his possition
and some shift of land.

Everything is explained using
a fewer number of causes.

Why would he have killed himself?

Was Adelmo disturbed by something?

Why do you ask?

You were his confessor. So
you could not

discuss his sins with me, but you
could discuss his state of mind.

I am not sure I
want to have this

conversation with
yuo, brother William.

He may have taken his own life.

Welcome. I am Malachi of Hildesheim,

chief librarian.

It is an honor to meet
a man of your distinction.

You have been librarian
here for a long time?

30 years.

One is always apointed
by one's predecessor

when he becomes an abbot.

The rule is that
when an abbot dies,

is the librarian
who replaces him.

So you'd be the next abbot.

May God grant our
abbot a long life.

Naturally.

The kitchens through there.
And here the scriptorium.

Here is the heart of the abbey.

Here recreate the most precious gems
of culture in the entire world.

Our books.

Toiling over their work,

you can see translators,
copyists, illuminators, miniaturists.

Who instill into the smallest
of paintings on a page

the most elaborated and
magnificent images.

This is Berengar of Arundel,
my assistant.

And here we have Venantius of
Salvemec, a famous Greek scholar.

Doing a wonderful work
on the great Aristotle.

And he Aymaro, master of copyists.

- How do the monks get to the books?
- We have catalogues.

When a monk finds a book there,
he asks me or my assistant for it.

Books are arranged by a code
known only to the two of us.

Only we are allowed to
get through that door.

It is a labyrinth.
Anyone enters will be lost.

Benno of Uppsala. He is studying
Rhetoric and the Art of Calligraphy.

- Where did Adelmo work?
- Down there.

We haven't touched a thing. His
desk is just the way he left it.

- Yesterday you saw him leave?
- Absolutely. We all did.

- We all ate together.
- And in church for evening prayers?

A new invention.

Which can magnify images for
those whose sight has grown weak.

Poor Adelmo.

Sometimes he lose himsfelf in
his weird imaginations.

I am glad I am blind.

I've not had to witness such stupidity.

Jorge of Burgos,

one of the abbey's
most erudite scholars.

You will agree, venerable Jorge,

that not seeing something
does not make it disappear.

You're talking to
William of Baskerville.

The Franciscan.

So now we will be
preaching to the birds,

singing and dancing

to show the sympathy
we have for the world.

Adelmo, he took such pleasure
into the monsters he painted

that he lost sight of the truth.

The images though they are no true
were not mere foolinesses.

God is named for the
most distorted things,

alas that's how he
shows the truth.

With respect, Jorge, you know that
Adelmo did not lost his faith.

While we were talking about this very
question, I reminded you that...

I don't know what you're
talking about, young man.

Malachia was here too.

Jorge does not remember.
He does not remember.

But you do, Berengar.

After all, you pay attention to

any discussion over your
dear dear friend.

- Venantius!
- We have lost a brother.

He was greatly loved by all of us.

And he was here, as we all are,

to live out his life,
praising and glorifying God.

I've always wanted to read
Tertulliano's "Apologeticum",

but I've never been able to find it.

It is here. I have it.

- I'd be delighted to find it for you.
- I will be terribly grateful.

Boy.

Boy.

Yes?

So you are William of
Baskerville's novice?

Could you think of
anyone who may had

some kind of grudge
against Adelmo?

Not at all. He was a fine young man,
with a true passion for his work.

Do not let your master
lead you on the wrong road.

Weare living in an age
far more frightening

than a miniaturist could imagine.

"Penitenziagite!"

Watch out for the draco

who cometh in the future
to gnaw at your soul.

"La muerte � supra nos!"

Pray the Santo Pater.

You like this negromanzia?

"Libero nos a malo" and
free us from all sins.

Flesh.

Flesh.

Beautiful? But Salvatore "non stupidus".
He likes to...

Penitenziagite! Penitenziagite!

You're student of Rhetoric?

Yes, I am.

I also enjoy studying poetry.

I have read many pagan poets.

- Maybe their words also can be truth.
- Well then.

What was said that day when you were
discussing about Adelmo's illuminations

to Berengar, Venantius,
Malachia and Jorge?

Do I remind you that I am carrying
the enquiry by the abbot behest?

Jorge was saying that it is not licit
to use ridiculous images

to decorate books
that contain the truth

Venantiusspoke about other books and

Jorge became very angry.

- Which books?
- I don't remember.

What does matter
which books were spoken of?

It matters a big deal
because here we are

trying to understand
what happened among men

who live among books,
with books, for books.

So their words on books
are also important.

Yes, it's true. We live for books.

A sweet mission in this world
dominated by disorder and decay.

What did they say?

Venantius said that when it
comes to these witty riddles,

no one surpases the African poets.

And then?

And then something happened that
I didn't quite understand.

Berengar began to laugh.

He said, "If one sought
carefully among the Africans,

quite different riddles would be found".

Jorge became very angry and said

that it did not seem wise to
take the Africans as models.

And after that?

Malachia came furious,

took Berengar by the cowl, and sent
him off to his tasks.

Later I saw Adelmo aproaching
Berengar asking him for something.

In the evening the two
of them were in the

cloister confabulating.
That's all I know.

What did Berengar mean by,
"seeking among the Africans"?

I know only one thing.

Anyone leafing through
the catalogue of books will often find,

among the classifications that unfortunately
only the librarian understands,

one that says, "Africa".

I have even found one that says
"Finis Africae"

the end of Africa.

That is what I know.

This is why I say: Check
on Berengar.

Franciscano's William dangerous!
"Je ne l'aime pas, mala bestia est."

I know.

- You must tell him nothing.
- Nothing.

We Italians are victims
of foreigners in here.

They are all led by
Malachia and Berengar.

Now they even started murdering us.
Here in the snake pit.

What did he want?

To introduce himself.

In much speaking,
you will not escape sinning.

Death and life
are in the power of the tongue.

I did place a restraint to my mouth

and made myself mute.

Why did such a famous
Franciscan choose you?

Could it be that a
fresh young boy

has something to give back
in return for his knowledge?

Shame on you only for thinking that.

_

I've sent too weak a delegation
to face the Franciscans in Debate.

I've just learnt that William of
Baskerville has arrived at the abbey

even before the Franciscan General.

- Is your delegation already there?
- Not yet.

Call it back then.

I can't. I made an agreement
with the emperor.

- The Debate must take place.
- Can we trust the abbot?

I would hope so. They say
Baskerville has his charm.

Charm is not a virtue.

Don't forget that like every
pure bred Franciscan,

he hates you.

The violence of the Dispute has
endangered the unity of the Church.

On the one hand there is
the emperor against the Pope,

on the other hand,
the Pope against the Franciscans

who had espoused the Spirituals'

theories about the
poverty of Christ.

Why does the Pope want to destroy
the Order of Saint Francis?

Because we think
that the Church,

and more importantly the
Pope who governs it,

should imitate the life of Christ.

Isn't that what every
believer should hope for?

It should be.

And I will do my best to make it be.

Cause I have been
entrusted to present

imperial theologians'
point of view.

And what happens if
you lose the Debate?

I never lose a debate.

Never?

I cannot even think
of losing this Debate.

It would mean that I'd be the last
pope in history worthy of this title.

I may have been naive once,
and underestimated my enemy.

However, this blunder will be remedied.

You, Bernard, will leave

inmediately for the abbey where
you'll lead my delegation.

I am honored, Holiness.

I'm giving you and armed escort.

My nephew, Cardinal di Pouget,
will join you there.

He's the man who has wiped
away the smiles of the

faces from those
damned Italians.

Traitors, everyione of them.

The purpose of this conference

is to exterminate the Franciscan Order,

once and for all.

Lord, I beg You with all my heart.

If I don't find find joy
anymore in Your law,

should die of sadness.

Come with me! Everyone! Hurry!

Pull him out of there! Now! Quickly!

- Another corpse.
- Who can it be?

Drowned.

My God! It's Venantius!

Venantius...

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