All language subtitles for 1670.S01E02.1080p.WEB.h264-EDITH

Good job, Jędrula!

Thanks!

- Hi, Jędrula.
- Hi.

- Thanks for today.
- You bet.

- Keep up the good work.
- Yeah.

We're so proud of you,
Jędrula!

Jędrula! You're the best!

Hi. Thanks. You too. Thank you.

Jędrula. This is an intervention.

We've all been worried
about your behavior for quite some time.

You were always the life of the party.

Full of energy. Always joking around.

However, that seems
to have changed recently.

And it's obvious
that it's got to do with alcohol.

That's right. Alcohol wasn't good for me.

Jędrula, it's time for you to wake up.

So, since you've stopped
drinking booze, you haven't slept well.

All your tossing and turning

disturbs my sleep too.

But when I was drinking, I'd fall asleep

outside by the fence.

- Sometimes, I'd mess my pants.
- That's right!

And that was always your trademark.
Remember what they used to call you?

Shit-stained Jędrula.

Shit-stained Jędrula!
You were building your brand.

You had a handle,
just like Casimir the Great.

You were bringing your fellow peasants joy
in these troubled times.

Remember when you'd run
around the town naked,

chasing folks with a hatchet,
threatening to murder them?

- That was funny.
- Ha. Hey, you know...

maybe I really have lost
some of my positivity and joy.

Yeah.

I've got to listen to everyone gossiping
at church about how you are not drinking.

Yeah.

I had no clue it'd be
such a burden for you.

This is what family and friends do.
They lift you up when you hit rock bottom.

God bless you.

Jędrula, one more thing.

Remember that you won't find
cheaper vodka than at my inn.

And if you don't drink?

Then you stink.

Today is market day.

Chop, chop, chop, chop, chop!

Our nobility's economy is mostly based
on exporting our grain to the West,

and importing all kinds of luxury goods.

Thanks to that,
we have no need to develop technology.

And when I told my Italian friend
about our economy, he said two words.

"Polacco," meaning "Polish,"

and "stupido," meaning "Europe's granary."

That's what we're known for.
Cluck, cluck, cluck!

Oh.It's Anielka.

- Where are you off to?
- I've got a few errands to run.

Don't go into the woods,
or a Swede might try to kidnap you!

- Dad, you're such a xenophobe.
- Oh!

You too, sweetheart. Bye-bye now.

Ah.

Bogdan,
here's a riddle for you.

What starts with "W-H" and runs Poland?

Whores.

- It's wheat, Bogdan.
- Ah.

It ensures this country's prosperity.

These are desperate times.

There've been years
of bad crops, war, disease.

- Which is why we should all be grateful.
- Hello, neighbor!

I'd love to tell you about some
of the improvements that made my farm so...

- Hey! Get outta here!
- ...prosperous... Woah!

Beat it, Andrzej!
This isn't your story!

For some reason, Andrzej's peasants
produce more crops than mine do.

And that mean bastard
won't tell me his secret.

You should know
that Andrzej is a real scumbag.

Simply put, the man is evil.

The village name Adamczycha
comes from the name Adamczewski.

Adamczycha used to belong to my ancestors.

All the different halves of it.

I'm the fourth Adamczewski
to run the family estate.

And it was always the pride
of this province.

But as soon as I took over,

it suddenly started to decline.

That's what I call bad luck.

Then, suddenly, Andrzej showed up.

PURCHASE AND SALE AGREEMENT

After my beloved wife passed away,

I decided I needed a change of scenery.
I was looking for respite and...

He moved here
because he killed somebody's wife

or something like that. I don't know.

Either way, the jerk took advantage
of my six-year streak

of bad luck and vulnerability,
and bought up half of my village.

Yeah. The bigger half.

That's not the point.

And besides, size doesn't really matter.

Only people with small villages say that.

Even if it doesn't
totally belong to me for the time being,

Adamczycha is my happy place.

In this village, I was born.

And here, in this village,
when the bell finally tolls for me,

my body shall be buried.

Not my heart, though.

My heart will be laid to rest
at Wawel Castle.

Does anything else need
to be hanged?

I don't know.
Maybe we could hang all of the nobility.

First, we could pluck out their eyes,

and then we could cut out their...

lying tongues.

Or we could just hang their skins.
I'm fine either way.

I'm on a mission
to meet with the peasants today.

We've been going through decades
of increasingly bad weather.

What we're witnessing is
definitely climate change.

We must act now.

Fellow humans, we all need
to have a serious discussion.

Imminent climate change means
that our lives here on this planet

are being put at great risk.

CLIMATE DISASTER IS COMING

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!

I knew this would happen.
We all had it too good.

At the University of Heidelberg,

scientists claim
that unless we change our habits now...

...the results will be nothing less
than catastrophic.

Bodzio, grab my pitchfork.

You got it!

That sounds pretty terrifying.
How much time do we have?

In 380 years,
the changes will be irreversible.

380 Years?

Well, screw that, then.

Yeah. Well, I'm sure
it must seem like ages from now

but the sooner we start...
For example, we could begin with, uh,

our cattle herding practices.

Their gaseous emissions
poison the atmosphere.

I don't know.
Seems like we've still got some time.

- Yeah. Maybe if it was 100 years from now.
- Or even 30.

Thirty sounds more terrifying.
We'd definitely do something then.

We would be utter morons
if it turned out that in 30 years

climate change was upon us
and we still hadn't done anything.

Everybody needs
to keep an ear to the ground.

We have to find out
why our manor is failing

compared to that idiot Andrzej's manor.

- So, seek and ye shall find?
- Exactly.

Then, we should
wring the peasants out like rags.

- Is that in the Bible too?
- Sort of.

Stanisław, we're deliberating here.
You're going to inherit all of this,

but you just sit there
on your picture all day.

- Gimme a break, will you?
- Put the picture away.

- Dad, in a minute!
- Not in a minute! Now!

Life's passing you by.

That's better.

I expect a full report
on your day at dinner tonight.

Get to work!

That carpenter looks familiar.

Let's go over it again.
What should we put in the stove?

Wood logs.

And what don't we put in the stove?

- Dead rats. No dead rats!
- Dead... dead rats!

Yes! Good work, girls.

Oh, hey! How's the "climate"
in Adamczycha today?

Hm, okay.

Maybe not the best joke,
but still, it wasn't that bad.

Hey.

Are you mad at me?

I don't know. Are we doomed
because of your climate-change denial?

- Sure. We're all doomed.
- The fire of change starts with a spark.

You've made it harder
for me to reignite it.

- Well, you got 380 years to keep trying.
- Hey! It's cold in here!

Bring me some of those dead rats!

Ula!
There's a bunch more in here!

I thought you were cool, but I was wrong.

Grzegorz.

We're taking an inventory of the estate

and there's just one small thing
about your work habits

that seem suspicious to us.

We've noticed that,
on the days you work your own land,

you use a horse
to pull the cart out in the fields.

However, on the days you work
for your serfdom,

the days you work for us,
it would seem your cart is being pulled

by your father-in-law instead.

I've got the attendance report here.

You see? Monday to Thursday,
it's all your father-in-law.

Friday and Saturday, it's the horse.
It's like that every single week.

Do you think that someone got confused
when they wrote it down?

- And thought he was a horse?
- Right.

My father-in-law has a pretty oblong face
and big horse teeth.

With the sun behind him,
someone could easily get confused.

Grzegorz, someone might've confused
your father-in-law for a horse

once or twice,

but we're talking weeks now.
Everyone knows what a horse looks like.

Now, let's see
how he tries to get out of this one.

Your Lordship,
I believe our dispute comes from

you underestimating my father-in-law
and overestimating the horse.

I'm sorry, what?

Well, people nowadays are just crazy
about the horse-ification of labor.

They're saying that, by the 18th century,

horses will be performing most
of the tasks that peasants do now.

But I believe that's just a pipe dream.
I mean, let's think about it.

How can one replace
the mighty but humble peasant...

It's him, for sure.

I knew it.

I mean, what are the odds
that the Savior would come back

in my lifetime, let alone to my village?

I'm thinking, maybe three percent, tops.

JEW'S

Not quite.

Yes...

Yes! Very good.

And where does this go?

And this?

- Someone's caught your eye.
- Who?

- The noblewoman.
- What?

- Hasn't she?
- No.

That's just like me.
I always seem to put my foot in my mouth.

Everyone's like, "Oh, he's a Jew."

"He's super smart,
so he's always scheming.''

And yet, no one's ever invited me
to join in on a single scheme.

Except, you know
that Jewish scheming thing

is just a bad stereotype. Right?

Sure. I know, I know, I know.

- A stereotype.
- Mm.

Or maybe...

Or what?

Or maybe all Jews are schemers.

And I'm the only one
who never gets invited along,

because I'm stupid, and I can't hack it.

Good.

Okay. You were right.

What about?

The lady.

She sorta... caught my eye a little bit.

- Yeah?
- Mm-hmm. You see?

You're a very perceptive guy.

Maciej.

Jew.

One hundred and ninety-nine...

Hey there. Why are you going through
the muck like that?

It's for the noblewoman.

Two hundred.

For you.

Thank you, Father.

I find it pretentious

when people act differently
around celebrities.

When I'm with Jesus, I act normal.

I don't think I'm gonna eat today.
It's the seventh meal I've given away.

Some people here call me
"The Last Good Samaritan."

He's just a regular guy. Except, he's God.

What's your name, dear fellow?

Marian.

My mother's name was Mary,
so that's what she called me.

You're kidding.

Your mother was Mary.

I'm a 33-year-old man,
and the name still embarrasses me.

Thirty-three. Oh!

I'm taking your advice.

We'll torture the peasants
until they talk.

Uh, no.
I don't think I ever said to do that.

What're you talking about?
When I asked what to do about Grzegorz,

you told me to beat him for hours.

Uh, what I meant was...
you should beat him for hours with love.

No. I'm positive you told me
to beat him senseless with a flail.

It was just a metaphor, Dad.

If you want the peasants to work harder,

that's fine.

But convince them to do it
with the flail of your arguments.

That's what I meant.

Mm.

Jakub got me thinking.

In the past, I've always used
the "carrot and the stick" approach

with the workers.

The carrot was for the oxen,
and the stick was for the lazy peasants.

Now, I'll use the strength
of my arguments.

I'll use persuasion
to make them work harder.

Or I'm not the most famous Jan Paweł
in the history of Poland.

Hello, everyone.

Welcome to our very first
motivational session, called

"Adamczycha, Where Your Fate Is Sealed."

That sounds a bit sinister.

- What does?
- The idea that our fates are sealed.

Like, forever.

Or like we're surrounded by wolves,
or Mongols.

I'm scared.

No, there are no wolves or Mongols.

Your fates are all sealed
in a positive way.

I'd like my peasants
to believe in themselves.

After all, everyone's the architect
of their own fortune.

I mean, not literally.

If I had an architect,
his fortunes would be mine for the taking.

Therefore, I'm the architect
of the architect's fortune.

- Your Lordship?
- What?

I think a better motivating factor
might be if there were

harvest-time profit-sharing initiatives
in place for us serfs.

Lord Andrzej's farm works that way.

Mm-hmm.

So that's what his secret is?

Well then, Andrzej might just be
the biggest idiot since Galileo.

Don't you know that you all participate
in serfdom profit-sharing already?

Maybe you can elaborate?

Well...

Uh...

Maybe you've heard about...
the trickle-down theory?

The rising tide lifts all of the boats.

Are we the tide or the boat?

So, is this tide going to seal our fates?

It's, uh...

Grzegorz, are you kidding?

Your father-in-law is out in the field,
and you came here with your horse?

What are you doing here, peasant?

- Father Jakub told me to.
- Told you to do what?

To make myself at home.

Jakub? What's going on here?

You're not gonna believe it, Mother.
It's him.

Mother doesn't believe
that Marian is Jesus,

and so, we need
to perform a confirmation miracle.

I summoned some impartial witnesses
to ensure a scientific environment

in which the miracle could be performed.

Once it's done, everyone will be all,

"Hail Father Jakub!
You found Jesus for us!"

And also, "Hail Jesus for coming back."

Hail Jakub and Jesus.

In alphabetical order.

Peasant, I have just one request for you.

Of course, my lady.

Walk to the center of the pond.

Excuse me?

I'm asking you to walk on water,

and get yourself
to the center of the pond.

If you're able to do that,
then I'll release you from your serfdom...

forever.

Did you hear that?
You'll be free if you do it.

That's certainly the upside,
but I can also see some drawbacks.

I've got to be able to walk
to the center of the pond,

which is impossible.

And you also can't swim.

Yeah. That's another drawback.

I heard someone say that,
in 20 years, looking back on our lives,

we're gonna regret the things we didn't do
but not regret the things that we did do.

That's good. Makes you think a lot.

Right? Because, here in Poland,
we fixate on the negative.

It's this "no-can-do" attitude.
It's everywhere.

Mm.

Mm.

Mm.

Screw it. I'll give it a try.

I can't wait to see your face!

Oh.

A false prophet.

Unfortunately, it turns out

that the only thing that made any
of the peasants leave their comfort zone

was the flail.

The real one,
not the one from Jakub's parable.

The only problem is...

That Anielka gets really angry with me
when I use it.

And nothing hurts more
than the look of disapproval

on your sweet child's face.

Fortunately,
there's another approach that leaders use.

Lying your ass off.

LETTER FROM THE KINK

This is incredible.

How incredible!

This letter, from the King,

says that our estate has been qualified
for an experimental program.

The program in question
will increase mandatory serfdom duties

from four to five days a week.

Come on, King!

Bogdan, did you really get this
from the king's messenger?

Yes, I did.

He came on a... bay horse.

He handed me the letter
and just... rode right off.

Oh! Yeah?

Mm... Yeah, he was
in a rush to get to his son's birthday.

He also said,
on top of having one son, he had...

two daughters.

Huh?

The overwhelming amount
of details in your story proves

that it must've happened!

I now have to live
with the burden of this lie.

But that's part of what
makes a great leader.

His willingness to make sacrifices
for his community.

But the most important thing is
that my estate will work more efficiently.

And now that idiot Andrzej...

Somebody set my grain on fire!

It was me!

Shit-stained Jędrula!

Jędrula!

You stupid drunkard! What have you done?!

Aniela?

How's that climate change going?

Because it still snowed, as usual.

Convincing the peasants
to change their habits

has proven to be very difficult.

People inherently fear change,

and they refuse to give up
even an inch of their comfort.

- Humans.
- I prepared a nice hot bath for you.

And your supper will be ready soon.

Would you like an appetizer?

Yes, please.

On the other hand, 380 years?

We might still have some time.

Aniela!

I wanted to let you know, uh...

that I've decided to change my stance.

Did you puke all over yourself?

No, uh... I'm, uh...

I mean, it was a close call
because I spent, like,

three hours digging beans
out of the leftovers for the cattle.

You may not be aware of this,
because I know girls don't fart,

but, um, beans cause a lot of flatulence
and I tried to limit the...

cows' gas emissions.

You know, that's the strangest theory
I've ever heard.

And it's also the sweetest thing
anyone has ever done for me.

I accept your apology.

But I'm going to go inside now,

because you smell foul.

It's the smell of victory.

You know, if anything ever happens
between me and Aniela,

I'll be able to say
that it all started because of cow farts.

I've always been
pretty romantic.

Obviously, nothing's gonna happen.

Aniela's a noblewoman.

You wanted me
to do something today, right?

Well, I got engaged...

Hm.

...to a city girl.

Oh.

Subtitle translation by Maja Konkolewska.