All language subtitles for The.Pit.and.the.Pendulum.1961.1

Yes?

I wish to see Don Medina.
My name...

I'm sorry, Don Medina
is not receiving visitors at present.

You will announce
that Mr. Francis Barnard

has come from England to see him.

What do you think you're doing?

Remove your hand, sir.

Maximillian.

What is it?

This gentleman
demands to be admitted, Doña.

- I've told him...
- You are Doña Medina?

I am.

I am Francis Barnard,
Elizabeth's brother.

Oh.

I'm sorry.

Won't you come in, Mr. Barnard?

Please forgive me.
I'm Catherine Medina.

Doña.

Will you not spend the night,
Mr. Barnard?

I am certain
that my brother would wish it.

Perhaps, Doña.
May I see your brother now?

Uh...

He is resting.

He has not been well
since the death.

I see.
Well, when may I see him?

Perhaps at supper
if you would do us the honor.

Very well. Supper.

May I visit my sister's grave, now?

Grave?

I presume there is one.

Not as such, Mr. Barnard.

She is interred below.

Oh?

A family custom, Mr. Barnard.

I see.

If we may go there, then?

Please follow me.

When did she die?

Your brother's letter
made no mention of the date.

About three months ago.

Three months?!
Why was I not notified sooner?

- I'm afraid I...
- How did she die?

I know very little of the details,
Mr. Barnard.

This is no longer my home,
you see?

I left it several months
before Nicholas married your sister.

Meaning you don't even...

What in the name of heaven?

What's that noise?

Please follow me, Mr. Barnard.

Not that way!

Mr. Barnard!

Who are you?

This is Mr. Barnard, Nicholas.
Elizabeth's brother.

Oh, yes.

You are welcome, sir.

Resting, Doña Medina?

Sir?

I told Mr. Barnard
that you were resting, Nicholas.

I thought that you were.

That noise, sir?

It is an apparatus, sir,
that must be kept in constant repair.

What brings you to us?

Elizabeth was my sister, Don Medina.

I received a report
of her untimely death,

a report which was utterly devoid
of details.

What should I have done,
remained in England?

Yes, you are quite right.

My apology, sir.

Shock and grief restrained me
from more adequate communication.

You have every right to be provoked.

Perhaps you will show me
my sister's place of interment now.

I told him it would be all right,
Nicholas.

Yes, of course.

Now perhaps you'll be good enough
to tell me how my sister died.

An illness of some duration, sir.

And was this illness diagnosed?

- Yes.
- By whom?

Dr. Leon, a physician of repute.

And he decided?

Something in her blood.

Yes?

That's all?
Just something in her blood?

I'm afraid so.

And I'm afraid
that does not satisfy me, sir.

Follow me.

May we go now, Mr. Barnard?
This is very painful for my brother.

And for me... as well.

This form of burial is a family custom,
Mr. Barnard.

Will you stay the night with us?

The night...

and more, sir.

Until I know
exactly what has happened here.

Thank you.

Yes?

I trust that you will be
comfortable here.

Is this you?

No.

No, that is my father,
Sebastian Medina.

Sebastian Medina, yes.

The resemblance is remarkable.

Yes.

And the other is my Uncle Bartolome.

Mr. Barnard, I am aware,
painfully aware

of your distrust
regarding Elizabeth's death.

Her death was...

and is anguish to me.

I beg of you, do not add to it...

I'm sorry, Don Medina,
but your word is not enough.

Too many things
need fuller explanation

before I can be satisfied
that what you say is true.

Fuller explanation.

Yes.

Come with me.

Please come.

The atmosphere is heavy in here.

Why have you brought me here?

It is her room, sir.

I've had it kept exactly as she left it.

Look around you, sir.

This room was furnished and arranged
with dedicated love.

Every article of furniture,
every decorative detail

is the work of a master craftsman
of Italy or Spain or France.

Indeed, every country
in the civilized world

is represented here.

It is a unique room.

I did it all for her.

I wanted her to have something that...

Maria.

I beg your pardon, sir.
I was just cleaning up.

Oh, yes.
Yes, of course.

You may go now.

Is this all you meant to tell me?

You are an unyielding man,
Mr. Barnard.

I am forced to be, sir.

God is my witness,
I worshipped your sister.

I worship her still.

Without her, life is meaningless.

She was the very substance
of loveliness.

I tried to capture it,

but it was the way she walked
and moved,

her smile, her voice.

She sang like an angel.

And she could play the harpsichord

as no other woman I have ever known
could play it.

Every night, after we had dined,

she would play for me.

Please forgive me.

I had not intended
to so display myself.

I only wanted to convince you.

I pray... I beg of you to leave me
for a while.

Please go.

Do you live in London, Mr. Barnard?

Yes, and you?

In Barcelona with an aunt.

And, uh, have you been here long?

A little over a week.

I came to be with Nicholas
because I...

Who would that be?

Nicholas.

How are you, my friend?

Pale.

You slept badly, have you?

Charles...

we have a visitor.

Well, splendid, splendid.

Exactly what you need.

- Charles.
- Mm?

It's Elizabeth's brother.

Oh?

- You mean he...
- Yes.

Dr. Charles Leon at your service, sir.

Doctor.

You are, I understand it,
Elizabeth's brother.

The resemblance is clear.

The... The coloring,
the same configuration.

Beautiful woman, your sister.

- Doctor.
- Ah, my dear.

I've interrupted your meal, I see.

Proper timing was never my forte.

We have just finished.

Won't you join us in a glass of wine,
Charles?

Delighted.

So, young gentleman, you've come
all the way from England, then.

That's right.

Terrible tragedy, your sister's death.

Appalling business.

How are things in Baztan, Charles?

What?

Always, always, Nicholas,

buying and selling, living and dying.

The weave of life.

Why did my sister die, Dr. Leon?

Have you not been told?

- Of course he has.
- Well, then?

I want to hear it from you, Doctor.

Her death was inevitable, I fear,

under the circumstances.

This castle, this odious atmosphere.

What has the castle to do with it?

What has the cas...

It's too late now, Charles.

I... I didn't want him to know.

Know what?

Your sister's death was caused
by failure of the heart, sir,

due to total shock.

Literally, she died of fright.

Why did you not tell me?

I thought to spare you, sir.

You thought to deceive me!

That's not true.

What is all this?

Show me where it happened.

Very well.

No, Nicholas...

There is no other way, my dear.

We were wrong, very wrong,

to have kept the truth
from Mr. Barnard.

Now we are doubly suspect
in his eyes.

Suspect?

Come.

Nicholas, you should not be
doing this, you know.

You're not well.

It cannot be avoided, Charles.

Come.

Well?

A torture chamber?

Yes, Mr. Barnard.

It was my father's.

Sebastian Medina.

One of the inquisition's
most infamous, degraded...

Please, sir, that is enough.

- Mr. Barnard, can you not see that...
- What was my sister doing here?

She could not keep herself away.

That noise I heard, is that what was...

No, sir. That particular device
was not in operation at the time.

Which device?

It's in an adjoining chamber
down there.

Please, Mr. Barnard, do not go there.

I...

I do not wish to discuss it.

The story, sir.

In detail.

This was my father's world,
Mr. Barnard.

Spare yourself at least this, Nicholas.

How can I spare myself?

Was he not my father?

Am I not the spawn of his...
his depraved blood?

His depravity is not yours, Nicholas.

Why scourge yourself because of it?

You have not answered me,
Don Medina.

I shall not dwell upon the history

of this...
this blasphemous chamber.

Suffice it that the blood
of a thousand men and women

was spilled within these walls.

Limbs twisted and broken!

Eyes gouged from bloody sockets.

Flesh burned black.

Why are you telling me these things?
What are they to do with my sister?

I should never have brought her here.

She was too sensitive, too aware.

Aware of what?

The malignant atmosphere
of this castle.

It destroyed her.

My sister was a strong
and willful woman

not subject to the influence
of atmospheres.

You have been here
only a matter of hours, Mr. Barnard.

You cannot know
what it is to live here

month upon month,
year after year,

breathing this infernal air,

absorbing the miasma of barbarity
which permeates these walls,

particularly this chamber.

But it did not bother her at first
either.

Our life was good,

rich with the shared pleasures
of our love.

Each morning,
I would bring her breakfast.

In the afternoons,

she usually sat for me
while I attempted all in vain

to capture her beauty on canvas.

I did that portrait
which you saw in her room before,

but it is all inadequate
to recall the loveliness of her.

We dined, sometimes alone
enjoying intimate conversation,

sometimes with the doctor.

And every night,
Elizabeth would play for me.

Life was simple, quiet,
richly pleasurable,

and then the darkness
began to fall.

More and more,
entering her room in the mornings,

I would find her awake

and discover that she had not slept
all the night.

I tried to find out why,
but she had no explanation.

Her appetite began to fade.

She began to lose weight and color.

I tried to make her eat,
but something kept her from it.

I would come upon her
wandering in the corridors at night.

I tried to find out what was wrong,
but she never had an answer

except to say that...
that something was oppressing her.

Oh, God, help me for my blindness.

I should have known.

And then, one day, she disappeared.

Frantic, I... I searched the castle
for her.

And then I knew...

the castle and its awful history
had obsessed her.

These very instruments of torture,

which were my birthright
and my curse,

now tormented her, as well,

infecting her
with a kind of haunted fascination.

I watched her drawn to one
and then another

as if the aura of pain and suddering
which surrounded them

was luring her to sickness

and to death.

Immediately I made my plans
to leave the castle with her.

We would travel for a while,
restore her spirits,

and then make our home elsewhere.

Then, on the very eve
of our departure...

we heard a scream from below,

the most hideous,
blood-chilling scream

I have ever heard in my life.

Just before she died,
she whispered a name.

Sebastian.

Mr. Barnard?

Doña.

May I speak with you?

Yes, of course.

How is your brother?

Better, thank you.
Dr. Leon is staying with him.

I have come to ask you
to please believe him, Mr. Barnard.

He has told you the truth.

Has he?

Yes.

In not telling you before,
he only meant to spare you pain.

He is a good man, Mr. Barnard,

a kind and gentle man,

and I know
that he adored your sister.

I would like to believe him,
Doña Medina,

but I find it very difficult to do so.

There's something about him
I cannot help but sense.

A kind of fearful tension that...

I'm sorry, but an air of definite guilt.

Of course he suffers from guilt,
Mr. Barnard,

because of what our father did,

because of what happened
to Elizabeth.

Perhaps it will help you
to understand

if I tell you something
that happened to Nicholas

when he was just a boy.

One day,

while Nicholas was playing
in the lower corridor...

He had been forbidden by our father
to enter this chamber at any time.

The curiosity of youth, however,

overcame his fear
of challenging our father's discipline.

He had to see the chamber.

Suddenly there were footsteps.

It was our father.

With him were our mother
and our Uncle Bartolome,

who was our father's brother.

At first it appeared
that for some inexplicable reason,

our father was actually
conducting them

on a tour of his ghastly chamber.

Nicholas could see
that both our mother and our uncle

were uneasy, frightened.

Our father's smiling affability

as he described the workings
of these hellish instruments

turned Nicholas' blood cold.

He watched them
with a mounting sense of premonition.

Something was wrong,

most terribly wrong.

Even he,
no more than 10 years of age,

could sense it like a darkening vapor
in the air.

There was no reason

for our mother and our uncle
to have been there.

As he struck,
he kept on screaming at his brother

one word over and over.

Adulterer! Adulterer!

And then he turned on her...

accusing her of vile debauchery
with his brother,

cursing her as faithless,

promising her the agonies of hell
in payment for her infidelity.

And there,
before my brother's very eyes,

our mother was tortured to death.

Ever since then,

Nicholas has been unable to live
as other men.

Always he is haunted by the memory
of that terrible day.

Your sister's death came very close
to driving him insane, Mr. Barnard.

I beg of you,

have pity on him.

Help him by believing him.

I will try, Doña Medina.

Well, I know you must be very tired
from your journey.

Good night.

Doña.

Who is that?

I'll see.

Where's Nicholas?

He is gone?

I must have dozed off in that chair,
and then I heard...

I don't understand.
Surely it's your brother.

No. Nicholas has never played
the harpsichord in his life.

Maria.

I heard the playing, sir.

Go back to bed, child.
Go on.

Nicholas!

It was Elizabeth.

You saw her?

I did not have to see her.

I know her playing.

Locked?

Yes.

Is there another door?

There is not, sir.

My sister's?

Easy, easy. Easy.

It was she.

Up. Drink this.

Thank you.

Hers?

Yes.

He will sleep in a minute or so.

Doctor, will you stay, please?

Yes, of course, my dear.
Until the morning, at any rate.

My dear Lord.

It is hers, isn't it?

It is.

But how?

Let us not talk here.

May we use your room, sir?

Yes, of course.

Sit.

What I am about to tell you

no one in this world
except Nicholas and myself knows.

That is, I thought
that no one else knew.

- Take this.
- No, thank...

Drink it.

To be absolutely blunt about it,

Nicholas believes that Elizabeth
may have been interred prematurely.

What?

I hasten to assure you both
that such is not the case.

Elizabeth was quite dead.

I would stake my reputation
on that fact.

Then, why...

...does he believe it?

Because of what happened
to his mother many years ago.

I'm afraid I don't understand.

I told Mr. Barnard
what Nicholas saw that day.

No, my dear.

Your mother was not tortured to death
as you were told.

But...

She was tortured, yes...

but not to death.

Do I make myself clear?

Do you mean to say that...

Your mother was walled up
in her tomb

while yet alive.

Oh, no!

From that day forth,

the very thought
of premature interment

was enough to drive your brother
into convulsions of horror.

Nicholas broods about it constantly.

Already he has told me

he has heard Elizabeth
walking the corridors,

even that he has heard her
speaking his name.

- Dr. Leon.
- Sir?

You seem to forget that we all heard
the harpsichord playing.

No, I have not forgotten it, sir.

It is why I said before

that I thought that no one but Nicholas
and myself knew about this.

What do you mean?

Someone, I fear,
has discovered Nicholas' secret

and is using it
as a terrible advantage.

A servant, perhaps.

I could almost more easily
believe that...

That what, Doña Medina?

Nothing.

I spoke without thought.

I want to know one thing, sir.

Are you absolutely positive

that Don Medina's dread
is unwarranted?

If Elizabeth Medina
walks the corridors of this castle,

it is her spirit, not her living self.

- Where did it come from?
- Elizabeth's room.

What is it, child?

Easy, child.

Easy.

Now, tell us what happened here.

I...

I heard her.

Heard?

The mistress.

I was cleaning up the room,
and she spoke to me.

She called me by my name... Maria.

She said, "Maria, leave this room!"

My wife spoke to you?

- My wife spoke...
- Nicholas!

No one will ever enter
that room again.

- Mr. Barnard, I'm...
- No need explaining, Nicholas.

Mr. Barnard knows everything.

Take care of the girl,
will you, Catherine?

I'll see to her, Doña Medina,
if you want to go with your brother.

Thank you.

Come, Maria,
let me help you downstairs.

Perhaps I should bring some food
to Nicholas.

He will not eat it, my dear,
any more than you are eating yours.

I'm not hungry.

You need your strength nonetheless.

If I may interrupt
this fascinating conversation

for a moment,

how long, may I ask, do you intend
to accept these occurrences

at face value?

I should have thought, Mr. Barnard,
that a man of your investigative zeal

would have already solved
the mystery.

And have you, Doctor?

I am not certain.

But do you remember that no one
actually heard Elizabeth's voice?

We have only Maria's word for it.

We proceed on similar lines, Doctor.

In questioning Maria, I asked her
to describe the voice she heard.

And?

She could not describe it, Doctor,
because it only whispered to her.

This point seems of vital import
to you, does it?

Don Medina.

Don Medina!

The key to Elizabeth's room.

The key, I said!

Again?

Do not go there, Nicholas.

I must, Catherine.

- Nicholas.
- Nicholas.

Come.

What I have dreaded
all these months

has come to pass.

You are wrong, Nicholas.

No.

No, she haunts me

because of the terrible thing
I did to her.

Mr. Barnard.

What in the name of heaven?

And have you nothing to say,
Don Medina?

I don't understand, sir.

Do you not, sir?

Then, with your permission,
I will enlighten you.

What is the meaning of this?

The meaning, Doctor, is this.

Only one person in this castle

could have caused
all these inexplicable occurrences.

That person is Don Medina.

- What?
- You are mad, sir.

Am I?

Mr. Barnard, I swear that I...

This secret passage, sir,
how convenient for you.

Enabling you to whisper to Maria
without being seen.

Then, after the door
to Elizabeth's room

had been locked by you,

enabling you to return there

and at your leisure
demolish everything.

You are wrong, sir.
I swear, I...

You are lying, sir!

When Maria screamed,
where were you?

When Elizabeth's room was being
torn apart, where were you?

Why were you not investigating that?

I... I was afraid.

You lie!

Both times, you were
in Elizabeth's room yourself!

Both times,
your own door was locked,

protecting you from discovery.

No, that's not true!
That's not true!

Why should Nicholas
do these things?

Why?!

Is it possible?

Is it possible I am doing these things
unaware to punish myself?

No, Nicholas! No!

One of the servants is responsible,
most likely Maria.

Could I have kept that ring
without knowing it?

Played the harpsichord
without knowing it?

Destroyed Elizabeth's room,
all without knowing it?

My inner mind

creating evidence
of Elizabeth's vengeful return

because that mind knows...

But I don't know!

I will find out.

No.

It's the only way, Catherine.
It's the only way.

I...

I must be sure!

I must be sure.

Can you not stop this?

I do not believe I wish to stop it,
my dear.

If this is the only way
of convincing Nicholas

that he did not bury his wife alive,

then I say by all means do it.

This groundless dread
must finally be put to rest.

We will exhume Elizabeth.

True.

True!

I swear to you,
I thought she was dead.

On my honor as a physician,
I thought she was dead,

I swear to you.

True.

- True.
- Nicholas.

- True!
- Nicholas!

- True!
- No! Nicholas!

True!

Nicholas!

I killed her. I killed...

I killed her!

No, Nicholas.

I killed...

I killed her.

Nicholas.

I would suggest, Nicholas,
that you leave this place.

Your remaining here
cannot help Elizabeth now.

Try to understand, Nicholas.

I am a doctor of medicine.

Never in my career
have I seen a condition

which so completely paralleled
the physical appearance of death.

You cannot feel responsible, Nicholas.

While we were up here mourning her,
she was alive,

struggling to be free.

I am responsible.

If it were not so,
she would not want to haunt me.

She does not haunt you, Nicholas.

Can you not see that?

It is you punishing yourself.

I must leave in the morning.

Already I have been grossly negligent
of my other patients.

I beg of you, leave with me.

I can never leave.

I must accept whatever vengeance
Elizabeth chooses to inflict upon me.

Doña Medina?

What is it, Mr. Barnard?

May I speak with you?

Certainly.

I came to apologize.

Apologize?

But everything you said...

I know that my suspicions
were justified,

but not as I had expected.

I realize now that my sister's death
was an accident.

I do not blame your brother.

I feel only sympathy for him.

What I did was, I assure you,
only because of Elizabeth.

I think I understand.

I'm sorry that our meeting
should have taken place

under such unhappy circumstances.

Had things been otherwise...

Perhaps we shall meet again...

in Barcelona.

I hope so.

Good night, Doña.

Good night.

- Doctor.
- Where are you going, sir?

To apologize to Don Medina.

I wouldn't speak to him just now.

He is much overwrought.

In the morning, perhaps.

You will be leaving then?

Yes.

Will you accept the hospitality
of my carriage?

Thank you, Doctor.
Good night.

Good night, Mr. Barnard.

Nicholas.

Elizabeth?

Nicholas.

Elizabeth?

Where are you?

Elizabeth?

Where are you?

Nicholas?

Is my brother with you?

No. Is he not in his room?

No.

He must be with Dr. Leon, then.

Nicholas.

I will check below.

You two search this floor
and the one above.

All right.

Nicholas.

Is that you?

Elizabeth?

Nicholas!

Elizabeth?

Nicholas.

Elizabeth?

Nicholas.

Nicholas!

I told you to wait.

I couldn't.

He's gone.

What about my brother?

He's supposed to leave
in the morning.

But now...

Why couldn't you wait one more day?

I've waited too long already.

So, my darling Nicholas,

we've broken you at last.

Elizabeth, there is no time for this.

I've waited an eternity
for this moment.

There has to be time.

And now, my dear Nicholas,
I have you exactly as I want you...

helpless.

Elizabeth.

Is it not ironical, my husband?

Your wife an adulteress.

Your mother an adulteress.

Your uncle an adulterer.

Your closest friend an adulterer.

Do you not find that amusing,
dear Nicholas?

Yes.

Yes!

- Yes!
- What's happening to him?

Happening?

Why, what should be happening,
Isabella?

Isabella?

You, Bartolome, my brother,

how do you like
my little workshop, huh?

Dear God!

Why, what ails you, brother, huh?

And you, my dear,
why are you so pale?

Does this place disturb you?

I thought the two of you
would enjoy the novelty of it.

Come, let me show you about a bit.

Where are you going, Isabella?
Bartolome!

Are you leaving me?

Don't you want to see my?

I am going to torture you, Isabella.

I am going to make you sudder
for your faithlessness to me.

Before this day is out,
you will be begging me to kill you,

to relieve you of the agony of hell

into which your husband
is about to plunge you.

Harlot!

You will die in agony.

Die!

Now, Bartolome, my brother...

Bartolome?

Bartolome!

Where are you?

You cannot hide from me, you know.

Don Medina.

There you are, Bartolome!

Oh, there you are, sir.

We've been searching all over for you.

And now for you, Bartolome,
my beloved brother,

while you are still alive,

my ultimate device of torture.

Are you ready now, Bartolome?

Bartolome?

Now we are ready to begin,
Bartolome.

Do you know where you are,
Bartolome?

Don... Don Medina,
I am Francis Barnard.

I will tell you where you are.

You are about to enter hell, Bartolome.

Hell!

The Netherworld.

The infernal regions.

The abode of the damned.

The place of torment.

Pandemonium.

Abbadon, Tophet, Gehenna,
Naraka, the pit!

And the pendulum.

The razor edge of destiny.

Thus the condition of man.

Bound on an island

from which he can never hope
to escape,

surrounded by the waiting pit of hell,

subject to the inexorable pendulum
of fate

which must destroy him finally.

Nicholas?

Nicholas, are you in there?

Catherine, help me!

Nicholas?

Nicholas!

Oh, no!

Maximillian.

Maximillian, we must break
into the torture chamber quickly.

Maximillian.

Don Medina, he thought that I was...

Shh.

It's over now.

Nicholas.

No one will ever enter