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CLARE

to Chiara Frugoni

-How much longer?
-Almost there, Pacifica.

That's what you said before.
I'm as hungry as a wolf!

-What was that?
-I don't know.

-A wolf?
-Enough about wolves!

-What if...
-What?

It's the devil?

This robe is itchy.

Pacifica, are you having doubts?

-Do you want to go home?
-No.

I'm with you.

Francis...

We're ready.

I, Clare, promise to respect
the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ,

and to live in obedience,
poverty, and chastity.

I, Pacifica, promise to respect
the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ,

and to live in obedience,
poverty, and chastity.

As our Lord said to the apostles,

take nothing for the journey,
no staff, no bag,

no sandals, no money.

Promise to respect the doctrine
and example of Jesus,

who said to the man
who wanted to attain perfection:

"If you want to be perfect go,
sell your possessions

and give to the poor,

then come follow me".

We promise.

Today was a holiday,
we got a chicken with its innards.

Delicious!

We have the same name.

Huh?

We're both "pacific":
you're Pacifica, I'm Pacifico.

Have some bread.

Go on.

We can share...

You can't stay here, Clare.

Why?

Because your family
will definitely come for you.

Then what will we do?
We can't do anything.

-But we cut our hair.
-That's not enough.

-Only a convent can protect you.
-Go stay with the St. Paul nuns.

-I don't want to go there.
-We'll end up as servants.

That's what happens
if you have no dowry.

Just a few days, Clare,
then we'll take you to Saint Damian.

You'll join the servant nuns.

It's humble work you'll perform
as you have no dowry.

Look after the kitchen,

clean it of filth and dirt,
tidy and look after the house.

We're servants of the Lord,
our souls are serene.

Sure...

But put some sandals on.

I don't want filth in my convent.

There was one thing
Father Benedict desired,

but he was not granted it.

He had a sister named Scholastica...

This is the story of Scholastica,
the holy sister of our Saint Benedict.

-Do you understand Latin?
-Yes.

I was taught by a grammar teacher.

I'm a widow, I had no dowry,
I came here with my sister.

We're servants here
but we're aristocrats.

I even have a son, he's big...

Really?

But my son left me,
he's traveling the world.

Sister Bentevenga fell asleep.

Francis said we should preach
in our vernacular,

make the Bible accessible
to those who don't speak Latin.

Francis is right,

but the Bible can't be translated
into vernacular, it would be sinful.

Listen to this...

Benedict goes to visit Scholastica.

She asks him to stay the night
so she's not alone,

but Benedict says he cannot,

he must return to the monastery,
so Scholastica starts crying.

She cries and cries,
and her tears cause a flood of rain,

so much that Benedict
and the friars can't set foot outside.

Divine righteousness!

She lifted her head from the table

unleashing a storm
of thunder and lightning,

along with flood of rain,

so much that the venerable Benedict

and the friars with him,

could not set foot outside...

Clare?

Clare!

Come out!

Clare of Favarone!

Come out, woman!

Go show them your hair,
they can't touch you.

Clare of Favarone!
You shameless woman!

You must come home

to your father's authority.

Your hair?

-What have you done?
-I cut it.

And now?

You want to serve these nuns?

Why?

No, father.

I want to stay with Francis
and his friars.

I want to live in poverty.

Pull the thread of the weft,

press the pedal...

and then pull the reed down.

-Can my sister and I try?
-Yes.

Go first, Cristiana, I'll watch.

-Put the thread here.
-Yes.

And pull...

-You found all these?
-We can keep them.

Look...

they're small.

Big and small ones,
for any type of feet.

Elia...

Some shoes.

They're torn and tattered,
but we can mend them.

Let's try.

But our friars go barefoot...

We'll wear them when we go out,

but we'll go barefoot in the monastery.
Francis agrees.

These are nice.

Lady Clare?

Yes, sister?

For the love of our Lord Jesus Christ,
heal my child.

I'm not a doctor.

He's had a fever for three days.

Help me, please.

-He seems better.
-Warmth is the best medicine.

If you start healing the sick,
what'll we do?

We won't have room
for those who'll come.

We can set up a hospice
for the ill and needy back here.

-We have enough room to sleep.
-For now...

But when the new sisters come?

Really?
You think others will join us?

I do.

To me, the friars in the woods
are like knights.

Like King Arthur's
Knights of the Round Table.

Now you have sisters, too,

faithful and brave.

But you must speak
to the Holy Father like we did.

Or it'll be difficult.

Yes.

I'll write to the Pope.

Come see.

-The garden will go here, Cristiano?
-Yes.

We'll plant garlic, onions, turnips,
and similar things.

-Onions and turnips are good.
-Indeed.

Leave room for flowers.

You can't eat flowers, Francis.

But they're beautiful.

Agnes, what's going on?

I want to stay here
and be a nun like you.

Who saw you?

A servant escorted me
but he's gone home.

Did you tell him to keep quiet?

We have no protection here
if father comes for you.

What's wrong?

Our father has died, Clare.

He died?

-Was he ill?
-Didn't you know?

Now uncle Monaldo...

Uncle Monaldo wants to force me
to marry Master Alfredo,

Ignazia's father, he's a widower.

But Master Alfredo is 70!

Agnes?

Did our father suffer a lot?

Yes.

He always asked about you.

Until his last breath.

Master uncle!

-Let me go!
-Let go of my sister!

Don't hurt her! Don't!

Let her go!

Your father was too kind,
I would've killed you.

You're hurting me!

Let me go!

Francis? Francis!

-No, let me go!
-Let her go!

Come on, put her on the horse.

She's too heavy, I can't.

Cursed devil!

I'll kill her
rather than leave her here.

No!

Get the horses!

Let's go!

What happened, Clare?

You saw it all, Francis.

You saw.

How did you do it?

Clare

Clare

Clare

I admit I'm astonished.

Never before has the Holy Father
been asked to grant an order of women

the "Privilege of Poverty".

But so be it,
in the name of God Almighty.

As has been made manifest

for the hand
of the heavenly Spouse

is beneath your head.

And he who feeds
the birds of the sky

and clothes the lilies of the field,

shall not fail to feed
and clothe you equally,

while he himself, passing by,
ministers to you in eternity.

Therefore, just as
you have supplicated us,

we strengthen by apostolic favor

your proposal for Most High Poverty,

so that you can be compelled
by no one to receive possessions.

At the end of eight days,
when he was to be circumcised,

he was named Jesus,

the name given him by the angel

before he was conceived in the womb.

May the words of the Gospel
wash away our sins.

On the eighth day,
Jesus was circumcised.

And today, Jesus Christ begins

shedding his holy blood for us...

He who never committed a sin,

in fact, he who was the enemy
and destroyer of sin,

begins today bearing
the pain of our sins.

So cry with him, with compassion,

for he cried heavily today.

On this day of celebration,

we should be thankful
for our salvation,

but we should also feel immense
compassion for the suffering of Jesus.

His precious and soft flesh
was cut by his mother.

The baby Jesus cried,

and while he cried,
so did his mother, the Virgin Mary.

She sure did cry!

When my Tommaso cried,
it broke my heart...

Mother and son are the same flesh.

She cried and since her son
was on her chest,

when he saw her crying,
he placed his holy hand on her mouth

and begged her with this gesture
not to cry.

They say Brother Francis
stayed with the Sultan.

They talked at length and the Sultan
listened attentively to his preachings.

Very good.

The Lord has sent us to preach
salvation and poverty everywhere.

We want to travel, too.

-With you friars, if you agree.
-I'll go with you.

-We'll talk to Francis when he returns.
-Travel is dangerous for you.

You must speak the vernaculars
and Latin.

True.

If you preach the Word
and they don't understand,

you'll be taken for heretics.

I speak Latin
and the vernaculars.

It's mealtime for the sisters,
I'll go do the chores.

Pacifico, when you go collect alms,
try to get some oil.

I'll leave the empty vase
on that bench.

All right.

-Have you eaten?
-Some bread.

It's too dangerous.

What is that cough, Balvina?

It's nothing, don't worry.

We heard such lovely words today.

Yes.

The joys and suffering of
our Lord Jesus Christ on his nativity.

And he had a rock
under his head in the manger.

I saw that rock in Bethlehem.

Really? You went on a pilgrimage
to Bethlehem?

Yes, before joining the nuns.

I'd like to go too,

but first to Morocco
where some brothers were martyred.

Balvina, didn't you find wolves
in Bethlehem?

Wolves?

There was a full moon, we were asleep
and heard howling.

A woman got up, because her child
had to relieve himself.

We carried a stick
to keep the wolves away...

How else can you ward off wolves?
Not with your hands!

-Did they run away?
-Yes, we scared them off.

Wolves are like dogs,
they're afraid of beatings.

No fasting today, Clare,
you're wasting away.

Francis said so, too!

If you don't want to eat on Monday,
Wednesday, and Friday,

then you must have
a little bread and water.

I'll eat some bread.

Don't worry about me.

Give me some flour.

Who filled the vase?

No one.
I was just about to take it now.

-You filled it?
-How?

The vase was empty, not full.

Pacifico found it full.
Did you put the vase outside, Clare?

It's full.

It's good.

Good!

You never ate like that!

It's a gift from God.

Nourishment is always a gift from God,
like Francis says.

Our Francis sure loves eating.

Wonder what he's eating
in the Holy Land.

They eat grains
with almond milk and cinnamon.

No pork,
or you get excommunicated.

How can they live without pork?

What do they eat in Morocco?

They eat bread, like us,

but it's like a sponge.

They place meat, vegetables,
and oil inside.

Sponge bread? Goodness,
does it make the tummy swell?

Greetings, Clare.

The Holy Father greets you.

-You're the talk of Rome.
-Thanks be to God.

Praise be.

Women cannot live in poverty.

The Holy Father allowed it,
but it can't go on.

Nuns live off their possessions,

they can't travel like brothers.

But we all agreed upon it.

We live in poverty together.

Yes, but without possessions
you have no protection.

You're an abbess, Clare.
You must protect your sisters.

You call me an "abbess"
as if we were Benedictines,

but we're not.

I'm not an abbess,
I'm a sister of my sisters.

We stay and go together.

But only servants can go out,
not the sisters.

-And you all go out.
-No one is a servant.

There are no servants here.

We all go out,

to bring cloths for the altars
to churches,

to comfort the souls
and bodies of the sick,

to go to work and collect alms.

We go out to set an example
of how to live by the Gospels.

Like Francis' brothers...

But you're not brothers,
you're women.

And no woman
can set an example for anyone.

But we're children of God, too,
and angels of his Gospel.

The risen Christ revealed himself
to women first.

Yes, but don't forget about Saint Paul,

he said women should remain silent.

And according to Ecclesiasticus,

women are the origin of sin.

It's because of women that we all die.

And the Church Fathers?

They say no apostle shall allow
a woman to dominate man.

Yes, but...

Women tempt men into sinning
with their body and flesh.

Nowadays there are throngs of girls

who want to establish
an order of poverty like yours.

Girls who run around barefoot

and call themselves "minor sisters",

tainting the name of the minor friars

and Francis' real vow of poverty.

Clare, you can't do what the friars do.

Women must set an example
with modesty

and a cloistered life.

So I can't travel?

Travel? To where?

Beasts! Scoundrels!

Your tongues do nothing
but spread muck in my heart!

I wanted a life of charity,

I wanted to serve Our Lord,
our brothers, but no!

No!

They want us to wither
like the fig tree in the Gospels.

Ugolino said we can't go to Morocco
or the Holy Land.

He said they'll arrest us,

and will lock the convent doors
if we try to leave.

Ugolino seems to be
filled with hate for us.

May God help us.

They gave us bread and mushrooms
for the altar cloths...

Light the fire and clean the mushrooms,
I'm coming.

Canzonetta, rush along

Ask the woodland nightingale

If he will give my regards

To the pale-skinned sweet blonde

And tell her that I love her truly

But I don't dare speak her name

Clare?

Clare!

Help us!

Lift it!

Clare? Clare?

It's nothing...

It didn't hurt at all.

It was as light as a cape.

Did I do another miracle?

I learned so much
from my trip to the Holy Land.

We brothers are men like others,

when we're amongst infidels
we must not fight or argue.

Because we're Christians...

brothers of every creature.

God manifests himself in our acts,

and the Gospel spreads peace,
it never offends.

This is the example we must set:

to behave like brothers with everyone.

But Brother Francis...

by giving example alone

we cannot convert infidels.

We haven't been called to convert...

but to bear witness to the Word.

We bear witness so others can see.

Have some of these sweets,
they're made with honey and almonds.

Jacoba of Settesoli
gave them to us in Rome.

Jacoba is a woman
but she's like a friar...

Elia?

Who's Jacoba?
He's founding another order with her?

No.

Leone said there was an incident
at the Porziuncola church.

What happened?

The friars built brick homes
while we were away,

when Francis saw them
he had a fit.

He climbed on the roofs
and started throwing stuff down.

-The roof tiles, bricks...
-Well done, Francis.

But we were told the homes
belong to the town of Assisi,

so we had to keep them.

And now the friars sleep in them
even if Francis doesn't agree.

We should sleep in huts,
it's always been this way.

Have some sweets, they're good.

When you're away
we always have trouble.

Like Phylippo.

He asked the Pope
for protection on our behalf.

He wrote on our behalf!

-Sweets?
-No!

Phylippo's intentions weren't bad,
he did it for you...

But we don't need anything.

Ugolino wants us
to be cloistered for our own protection.

We don't want to be cloistered,
we're fine as we are.

-Clare?
-Yes.

I had a dream.

What dream?

I dreamt I was a hen,
small and black,

I wanted to keep my chicks
under my wings but couldn't.

-The chicks are the friars.
-They've grown in number.

I can't keep them under my control...

Now they're chicks?

Weren't they the Knights
of the Round Table?

I can't be the oppressor
of my own brothers,

like the powerful of the world.

No, Francis!

But you must defend your work.
Our work.

How? By using force?

You want me to act like a man of power?

I won't, Clare,
I don't want to.

Are they good?

He seems happy,

but he's ill.

His eyes are sick, it seems.

Get some rest,
otherwise you won't get better.

How is she?

Her throat hurts,
she needs to get some rest.

I dreamt she could speak again.

Another dream!

You can't heal from Scrofula.

You lose your voice then you die.
Understand?

My dream was wonderful,
it seemed real.

Lady Clare shouldn't wash my feet,

I just got here, I'm a novice.

She always does, it's normal.

We wash each other's feet.

But she's the abbess...

If Clare hears you...

We're all minor sisters,
there's no abbess here.

All right.

Lady Clare,
don't wash my feet.

I walked all day,

they're filthy and smelly.

It's fine, don't worry.

Don't wash between the toes...

Don't do it.

Don't do it!

Dear God!

Lady Clare!

-Are you hurt?
-I'm sorry.

-Are you hurt?
-It's nothing.

Blood! It's pouring out.

It's nothing.

Papal edict of Pope Honorius III

on the Minor Brothers' Rule

Chapter 11.

I strictly order all the brothers

to avoid suspicious meetings
or conversations with women

and to stay out of the convents of nuns.

Nor should they be godfathers
of men or women

lest it lead to scandal among
or concerning the brothers.

You said you didn't want
to write a Rule,

that you were the Lord's last madman.

He had to do it.

-The first Rule wasn't approved.
-I know.

And this one? Who wrote it for you?

-Ugolino himself?
-Clare...

I'm here to talk, Elia.

The new Rule doesn't mention poverty,

or rebelling against those in power.

There's no trace of your first purpose,
of our purpose.

You're angry because I wrote that
we must live separately from the sisters.

Separately? We started this together.

I had no choice.

Yes, you did.

Now we have our Rule,
and thanks to this we survive.

You should write a Rule
for your sisters, too.

So that all of our work
doesn't vanish into thin air.

Write a Rule
that the Holy Father will approve.

Why are you telling me what to do?

Sisters don't have to obey brothers,
you said so, didn't you?

Do as you wish.

Don't come back to Saint Damian.

Do what your Rule says:

stay away from women!

Are you afraid?

Are we dangerous?

Then stay away.

You're not welcome
in our homes anymore.

Balvina's dying.

The time has come.

Our prayers were in vain.

Go away.

Go away.

Now!

Pacifica, go cook an egg
and bring it to me.

Go.

Is she dead?

No.

Give her water.

When she's talking again,
bring her to me.

Go...
Tell Clare I'm healed.

She's healed, Balvina's healed!

She's healed!

Francis wrote another Rule.

This one was approved.

What does the Rule say?

It states that the brothers
should stay away from women.

They mustn't walk on the same path

or eat together.

It states that the brothers must never
let women promise obedience.

But that's what Francis did
with us at first!

We promised him obedience.

And now?

Now we're alone.

But together.

Lady Clare...

We're from Spoleto, my son is ill.

What's wrong?

-It hurts?
-Yes.

-How long has it been?
-A week.

Come.

Benvenuta, get some water,
a vase, and the small tool.

Did you stick something up your nose?

Here, it was a stone.

Bring me the dill infusion and a towel.

It's a miracle!

You performed a miracle.

She healed my son
with the sign of the cross.

-Miracle!
-Hush, there's no miracle.

-Miracle!
-Miracle!

-What miracle?
-It's a miracle.

Cecilia, be quiet, you're stupid!

I just pulled a stone out of his nose.

When the smell bothers you,
cover your nose.

The smell is worse in the summer
than the winter.

But won't they get offended
if we cover our noses?

A smell is a smell,
we know it and so do they.

Make sure your mouths are covered,

because it's contagious.

Let me bandage that.

All set.

You're young girls,

you don't remember the woods

where we went with our mothers

to pick wild strawberries,

wild apples.

But the trees were cut down

and now there are fields,

clean and plowed...

I'd love to see those woods again...

I gave the doll to her.
Want the rooster? Here.

Want the dog or the sheep?

Take the dog.

The sheep?

All right.

I used to make these toys for Tommaso,

he had a dog he always carried around.

Then he grew up
and stopped playing with it.

Want this?

Take it.

No?

They're afraid of you.

Afraid? Why?

They say you're a saint
who performs miracles.

Why, isn't it true?

Francis...

"Take nothing for the journey,

no staff, no bag",
as the Lord said.

But now I cannot walk without a staff.

Pacifico told us you found a new doctor.

Ugolino found him for me in Rieti.

Rieti?

Then why are you here?
This is out of the way.

To see your face, Clare.

It might be the last time.

And you?

You don't want to see me in one piece?

You know that when I die

they'll chop me up
and sell the pieces to churches.

Let us pray together.

Let us say the Psalm praising
the Lord for his Creation.

Now that my eyes can't see,
the world's beauty appears to me.

We'll let Clare read,
she speaks good Latin.

-Hallelujah.
-Hallelujah.

Praise the Lord from the heavens,

praise him in the heights above.

Praise him, all his angels.

Praise him, all his hosts...

Clare.

Say it in vernacular, for your sisters.

Praise the Lord from the heavens,

praise him in the heights above.

Praise him, all his angels.

Praise him, sun and moon.

Praise him, all you shining stars.

It's like the smile of the universe,

our earthily paradise.

We should pray in our language
like when we preach.

But we can't translate the Bible
into our vernacular.

We did today, but we shouldn't.

That's why I wrote my own prayer.

A prayer in our language
we can all understand,

illiterate and common people,

women and children.

So we can all pray
and understand our prayers.

Let me hear it.

I haven't finished it.

Writing is hard for my eyes.

I'll work on it tonight.

Clare!

Francis is not well,
he's asking for you.

I'm blind!

The rats!

I'm blind!

I'm blind!

I'm blind!

I'm blind, Clare.

I put out the light,

we're both blind.

Don't cry.

I won't cry,
and you mustn't cry either.

Sleep...

sleep, Francis.

This illness and suffering
are your path to eternal life.

Most high, all powerful,
good Lord.

Yours are the praises, the glory
the honor, and all blessing.

To you, alone, Most High,
do they belong,

and no man is worthy
to mention your name.

Be praised, my Lord,
through all your creatures,

especially through
my lord Brother Sun,

who brings the day
and you give light through him.

And he is beautiful and radiant
in all his splendor.

Of you, Most High,
he bears the likeness.

Be praised, my Lord,
through Sister Moon and the stars,

in heaven you formed them,
clear and precious and beautiful.

Be praised, my Lord, through
Brother Wind and through the Air

cloudy and serene,
and every kind of weather

through which you give
your creatures sustenance.

Be praised, My Lord,
through Sister Water,

she is very useful, and humble,
and precious, and chaste.

Be praised, my Lord, through Brother
Fire through whom you light the night,

and he is beautiful and playful,
and robust and strong.

Be praised, my Lord,
through sister Mother Earth,

who feeds us and governs us

and produces varied fruits
with colored flowers and herbs.

Be praised, my Lord, through those
who forgive for love of you,

and bear infirmity and tribulation.

Blessed are those who endure in peace,
by you, Most High, they shall be crowned.

Be praised, my Lord,
through our Sister Bodily Death,

from whom
no living person can escape.

Woe to those who die in mortal sin.

Blessed are those she finds
doing your most holy will,

for the second death
shall do them no harm.

Praise and bless my Lord,

and give thanks
and serve him with great humility.

Don't go without saying goodbye!

I just wanted
to be with the people, Francis.

I didn't want to scare them.

I didn't want to be called "saint",
I didn't...

Human matters
are difficult for us, Clare.

But you're strong,

stronger than your brother Francis.

We're going into town
to find some flour.

This food, Sister Balvina,
is good.

-Did you make it?
-Yes, Your Holiness.

It's part of my duty
as Our Lord's servant.

This meal is exquisite and tasty.

Not work of a servant but of a lady!

I want to write my own Rule.

There are no rules written by women.

Ours will be the first, Your Holiness.

We will only approve
of a cloistered Rule,

as you know, Clare.

Only cloistered life.

Yes, cloistered life.

But with our own Rule.

Some sisters need
to leave the convent for work.

And we must maintain
the Privilege of Poverty.

I'm the Pope now,

I can release you
from the vow of poverty.

Holy Father, I have no desire
to be released of that vow,

nor do my sisters.

Look at this!

You are tempting this poor sinner.

You weren't such a generous host

when I was Cardinal.

When we establish our Rule,
we don't want abbesses and superiors.

We're all minor sisters.

Like the brothers,
like Francis.

The brothers...

Francis has been dead
for two years now...

And everything has changed.

Your Holiness,

with blessed patience and wisdom,
all things can be done.

Aren't you eating, Lady Clare?

You know, around the world

there are more and more convents
of sisters who live like you.

Even in Bohemia,
the emperor's daughter...

Yes.

I've exchanged letters
with Agnes of Bohemia.

Blessed patience!

Clare,

keep your composure
with these important females,

for yourself and your sisters.

Write...

and I will have a look at your Rule.

Balvina...

what do we have to eat?

Very little, almost nothing,
just a little bread.

Slice the bread,
there are 50 of us: 50 slices.

It's not enough.

Just slice it, it'll be enough.