All language subtitles for Espelho Mágico (Manoel de Oliveira, 2005)

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"MAGIC MIRROR"

How time flew!

We were nimble and restless girls,
boarding students in a Catholic school.

You dreamed about being
a famous ballerina...

or a great actress!

Yes, girl, whatever it was.

- Whatever it is!
- Yes, whatever it is.

Provided you're not a doll
with no will of your own.

I would say so.

Remember when they took us
to see Lugar do Anjo?

We boarders wore a black belt...

and the day students a red one.

I remember saying,
"If I saw the Virgin Mary now...

it would be just fair,
equitable and sound!"

I would say that not with the spirit
of my eleven years of age...

but by influence of the language
I heard from the nuns.

That 's how it all started.

When Cain murdered Abel, it was
to offer him in sacrifice to the Lord.

He sacrificed whom he loved most,
and God sensed that.

But he tasted his brother's flesh
and had to be expelled.

- But who is this man?
- Who, Am�rico?

A former teacher.
Very sensible, it seems.

Nobody knows why
he murdered his family.

People are extraordinarily ugly.

I had never noticed, but...

they seem to have never
walked on two legs...

and dragged themselves
underground looking for shelter.

One day I was on the shore
of the Dead Sea...

at the popular baths which
are always full of people.

Rich Africans with their huge women,
Germans and Asians.

They were lying on the deck chairs...

and their flabby flesh
would fall on the sides.

You'd feel like trimming it down.

They were horrible.

But they were horrible, because they
showed an indifference that was...

vicious.

- Sit down, Luciano.
- I'd rather stand up. Thank you.

They looked satiated...

but they hid the infamy
of the hearts...

with the sadness
they call civilization.

- Are you a poet?
- No, I'm not.

Verses are for me
like the old kitchen papers:

They adorn, but don't hide the dirt.

- I enjoyed being a poet.
- Out of defiance?

Yes! After all, we are both
descendents of Cain...

the first defier in History.

Was it a crime or a mere gesture
of melancholy?

Cain was upset...

the Lord had pity on him
and spared his descendants.

Ugliness bothers me
more than punishment.

I cultivate cacti
as if they were roses.

The beauty of its flower,
which is seen just once in a lifetime...

is beyond compare.

It 's like an apparition.

Our Lady, have pity on me...

and help my Antonio,
who suffered so much for me.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa!

And his brother, Luciano,
who doesn't want to see anybody...

not even me, his mother...

and he asks me not to visit him,
because he gets sad.

And I come here...

now that your Camila married
another man and went to Lisbon...

letting me come here pray
at this grave...

which also belongs to the Ropers.

May God have pity on us...

and Our Lady help us...

for the Devil has meddled
among us.

Who does your sister live with?

My sister? I don't know
who she lives with!

Do you still think of her?

If I think of her?

- Why do you wanna know?
- I want to know if you regret it.

Regret? We do whatever
God tell us to.

You know, our warden tells me
the most romantic types in the world...

are the criminals.

- You think he's ever killed someone?
- I don't know.

But I see that he spends his days
locked inside here, just like us.

That 's the best place to be.

What saves him
is his love for the cacti.

He thinks criminals are neither
perverts nor feeble-minded...

but rather men of
disillusionment and sin.

And do you agree?

Sin walks hand in hand with
disillusion, or frustrated ambitions.

That 's how the warden put it.
I even refuted him.

And what did you say?

I said that being disillusioned
is peculiar to women.

- And what 'd he say?
- What he said?

That domestic crime is,
in most cases...

something of the feminine nature.

And that ninety percent
of thieves are effeminate.

"Effeminate"!
Effeminate are all these guys here.

I don't think so.

You still don't want
to compromise, right?

And you won't involve anyone.
Is that it?

Well...

your lawyer has managed
to bail you out.

- Were you informed of that?
- I was, Commissary.

Let 's talk about your mother.

I see that you get a little upset
when I talk about her.

She is my mother.

You said that your mother
was very close to her family.

To whose family?

My mother was really
close to them...

and she knew many,
many things indeed.

- What kind of things?
- "What kind of things"?

Things that go on inside
four walls...

and that have to do
with passion and money.

But you want me to talk about Camila.

Well, Camila had a father like many...

or like few, I can't say.

All we knew is that he was very
diligent and also a gambler.

But what does it mean?
Nothing.

The manlier a man gets,
the more he succumbs to sin.

He didn't like to beat women up.

He wouldn't fall in love...

but he slept with whomever he
pleased, inside the house or out.

Camila herself was on the brink
of incest with a father like that.

He was a loved man,
but a disaster in business.

He dressed well and always
had prot�g�s around him...

who loved him as a father.

- And so?
- I'd never seen him like that.

- How did you see him?
- I don't know.

I thought he was capable
of dangerous things...

but not of hurting
or wounding anyone.

And capable of killing?

It 's natural. The great crimes
satisfy our heart...

and their perpetrators are often
calm and understanding men.

With his wife it was the opposite.

She was a real bitch
and didn't like their daughter.

At five years of age,
Camila already hated her.

- Why?
- I don't know.

I remember her
eating rice with no salt...

as if it was the best delicacy...

sitting on a little chair
in the kitchen.

She was on a diet because
she had a skin disease.

Her body was full of sores for a year,
then she was cured.

She would ask me
to scratch her sores...

and I felt so sorry for her
that my chest would hurt.

She was a beautiful girl,
and I liked to make her laugh.

You didn't notice anything unusual?

No, but the servants were
all crazy for her...

and one of them killed herself
because she was fired...

and Camila said that she was sad,
but she wasn't going to cry.

That was so hard.

It sounded as someone was speaking
through her, but it was not her.

My mother started to pray
and didn't look away.

She stared us and didn't want us
to see she was scared.

- Why scared?
- I don't know.

My mother is more intelligent
than I am.

She sees things that I do not.

Life is for the smart ones.

Life is for the rich ones.

Did you think Camila
was perverted?

Camila? You don't know
what you're saying.

Camila was a saint.

An altar saint, like the ones
who turn bread into roses.

It was the mother who defamed her.

Of course. She certainly knew
more things about her.

Nobody knew Camila
better than I did.

I knew her very well.

The mother was jealous of her...

and made up all the bad habits
the girl didn't have.

Why jealous?

She was like a queen.
When she came, it was all silence.

I think even the birds in the trees
stopped singing.

She did something to us
that we could not explain.

How come?

I don't know.

It was as if she wasn't there.
You know that passage in the Gospel?

"You can see me a little,
a little more you can't"?

It was like that. She was among us,
and she was not.

I don't get it.
Were you in the seminary?

- I was. Just for a little while.
- How long?

Two years tops.
My brother Fl�rido was there longer.

Oh yes... So you have a brother.

He's helped me a lot. He pays
for the meals and the lawyers.

He's a good man.
He made mistakes in the past...

when he was young
and wanted out of poverty.

But since he was a handsome man...

women helped him.
And they didn't regret it.

But I guess he's not happy,
he was just lucky.

How do you know? People don't have
that written on their forehead.

No. That 's true.

But I remember that when
Camila was ten or eleven...

they had a party and he went there
to hang balloons on the porch.

The way he looked at her
would make you cry.

How?

When the soul seems to drift away
from the body, I guess...

You said she was eleven?
Eleven! That 's pedophilia!

The love for a child can be
a kind of sacrament.

A Heaven, maybe. A Heaven!

At twelve years of age,
she could be a woman...

to have all the seductions
of a woman.

No. She was an angel
and she spoke like the angels.

One day, she was distracted...

and placed her hand on the hot stove,
and didn't get burnt.

The spirit was stronger
and protected her.

I saw extraordinary things
that happened to her.

She was able to be in two
different places at the same time...

and to fly in the air.
You don't believe it, but it was real.

You mean she was able to be
at the dance club...

and to be sleeping at her
parent 's house in Porto?

Yes. But she didn't do that.

Please be seated.

No, sir. Thank you very much.
I'm on my way.

- See you next time, sir.
- You're always welcome.

So, how was it?
You look upset.

This man is cruel.

He told me things
that put me down.

What things?

He wanted to know things
about Camila and my mother.

But did you tell him
you're about to leave?

Or you don't have someone
to pay your bail?

I do, warden.

Then cheer up, boy!

You'll soon be with your mother
and your brother.

Yes, warden. I'll look for them.

You know, I'll miss you and
remember our conversations.

I'm sorry, warden,
but this man got on my nerves.

I would like to thank you,
but I'm really upset.

- May I go?
- Wait.

Here.

It 's a souvenir. Now you can go,
and come back whenever you want...

but with no obligations.

You know, you are
the only person I tolerate.

If I could, I'd kill all these guys here.

You know, I feel well here,
looking at the bars...

and saying to myself,
"This is my real home".

Here I am in peace.

Nothing happens,
there's nothing to do.

- You're not afraid of being alone?
- "Alone"?

I'm never alone. I have a companion
who's always with me.

If you're talking about me,
I'll be out soon...

and you'll be transferred
to another prison.

- You'll go to a tough one.
- How do you know?

The warden told me.
I'll explain to you later.

If you don't find another friend
like me, you'll end up alone.

"Alone", me?
I've told you I am never alone.

I have a partner
who never leaves me.

"A partner"? Who?

Hatred.

The hatred I have inside me.
I am never alone.

You're crazy.

I'll tell you something:

You see those bars?

I like looking at the bars,
I keep staring at them for hours.

They are the faithful guards
of my hatred.

Beyond them is hell.

I don't know why you cultivate
so much hatred.

Me, when I go out,
I'll have no hatred in me.

Alright, alright!
You can play the good guy.

No. I am not good,
but I am not bad either.

I am what I am.

When I leave,
I'll visit my brother Fl�rido...

and I'd also like to see that guy...

the one who was released
months ago...

- The Counterfeiter?
- Yes, the Counterfeiter.

That guy is full of it.

That 's why I think he's funny.

What a surprise!

You're looking good.

This looking-good thing...

the prison warden says that
beauty has a hypnotic effect.

Well, I have never hypnotized anyone.

He'd say that nobody murders
someone of great beauty...

without feeling it as an offense
to a universal law.

- Your warden is a philosopher.
- Not exactly.

These are things people say,
or he heard somewhere.

What he really enjoys
is collecting cacti.

And look, he gave me this one
as a farewell gift.

But, if I'm alive, it 's not because
people find me beautiful.

Beautiful or ugly, you're here!
Give me a hug.

Why didn't you tell me?
I would've picked you up.

I wanted to surprise you.
Let me put the vase in here.

- It 's a beautiful flower, isn't it?
- Yes, it 's really beautiful.

Sit down, tell me the news.

So, how did you fare in prison?

As strange as it may sound,
we get used to anything.

In prison we learn how to deal
with loneliness...

to esteem criminals...

just like this Am�rico guy
who had murdered his whole family.

- He murdered his family?
- Yes, his whole family.

His parents, his brothers,
he just spared his sister...

with whom he was in love with
and on the brink of incest.

What about the sister?

I don't know. I believe they hate
each other now.

And you made friends
with such people?

Those were my friends...

he and the warden,
the cactus collector.

People appreciate it
when you accept them as they are.

It 's enough for them to be victims
of such bad fortune.

They were human beings.

I didn't see that much difference
between them two.

I even thought that the warden
collected cacti...

to prevent himself
from killing someone.

I'm anxious to see our mother.

She sent me delicacies,
but she didn't visit me in Porto.

She didn't like to see me in jail.
It was too distressing for her.

What about Camila,
what do you know about her?

Well, our mother was in her house.

Camila went to live with her
second husband in Lisbon.

You say "she was".
Our mother is no longer with Camila?

No. Our mother is no longer
in this life.

Our mother has died?

A few weeks ago.

She was too depressed and ill.

She asked a lot about you
when we met.

This is the house of Mrs. Alfreda,
whom I'll introduce you to.

Is she the rich and rather odd lady?

The house is amazing!

But madam is kind of modest
and even shy.

Look, Luciano, look over there.

Out there is the Lima river.

They say that, a long time ago,
the Roman troops...

upon coming to the mouth
of that river...

they forgot everything
that linked them to their home.

And they named it Lethe,
the "River of Oblivion".

I hope now you too forget
your accursed past...

and embrace a new life.

Please come on in.

So where is your brother
who's going to serve me?

He's on his way.
He's admiring the stairway.

It 's indeed a beautiful stairway.

It 'd probably be a copy of the one
who gives access to Heaven.

- There it is.
- What? Heaven?

- No, my brother.
- So is this your brother?

Yes, this is my brother, Luciano.

Mrs. Alfreda,
owner of this splendid house...

and a devotee of the Virgin Mary.

Reverend father Clodel...

and reverend father Feliciano.

What about me? I'm professor Heschel,
at your service.

Thank you, professor.

The professor is specialized
in the sacred scriptures.

It 's a privilege to be in this house...

and an honor to meet Mrs. Alfreda...

whom my brother has praised so much.

I see you're surprised.

I feel I'm not exactly whom madam
was waiting for, but...

Say no more.

Instead let me tell you
of my intentions.

I intend to visit, that is,
to return to the holy sites...

and I want this time that Blue Bull...

- Isn't that what they call you?
- Yes, they also call me Blue Bull.

- So I want you to accompany me.
- But, madam...

Why are you surprised?

- I wasn't ready for that.
- So get ready.

We'll leave on a Thursday.
I believe Thursday is a good day.

I got married on a Thursday,
just like the Queen of England.

In the past, I was accompanied
to these same sites...

by an Argentine who was
a skilled tango dancer.

It 's beautiful to see the tango...

but you cannot dance it
with your mother or your sister.

- Why is that so?
- Nobody ever asked me why.

Well, well.

Let 's go to the garden?

- Does she know I was in jail?
- She knows everything about you.

She's not my type at all.

She likes priests and goes on
a pilgrimage to Rome and Jerusalem.

What else is there?

What does she want?
To make me a saint?

I miss... I miss going
to those holy places.

Don't mind the hat!

You'd better pin it down, madam.

Thank you, Queta.

Tell me, why did you risk yourself
just to get my hat?

We who are born poor...

we value things
that are valueless.

I remember my dad,
who was a vinedresser...

he jumped down a thorn bush...

to get the lunch pail that
had fallen from his hands.

He broke an arm for a worthless pail.

Yes, so you didn't do it for me?

- So it all started in Masada?
- No, madam. It started long before.

She's a little weird like that,
but she appreciated what you did.

Masada would be the Hellenist name.

The name of the fortress
was Metzuda...

One can say that
it all started with David.

Good afternoon, Mr. Bahia.

Good afternoon, Queta.

The madam is with guests.
They went to the poolside.

All right.

...was abandoned, I think
it was restored a short time ago.

It was General Silva who took Masada.
A Roman, of course.

Portugal was a Roman colony.
The whole Spain.

The Silvas were the best
of our aristocracy.

This wine is like a drink from gods.

I don't want to offend you, madam,
but why serve the wine so cold?

It 's a customary to serve the white
wine cold, when there's fish.

It 's trout from Lake Tiberias.

That 's what madam Alfreda says...

but nowadays there are
trout crawls everywhere.

That 's true, but we know
when we see them.

Sometimes there are larvae in the gills.

So these are not crawl trouts.

I see you're trying to impress me
with the horror.

A beautiful woman, when she wants
to, she can disarm any man.

Strange. Some sayings
sound like the wind to me.

When I was little and
they took me to P�voa...

I could feel the wind on my ears...

as if someone had hidden himself
to scare me.

Forgive me, but I didn't mean that.

Remember, Alfreda, we would go
from P�voa to Viana do Castelo...

to the feasts of Our Lady of Agony.
You dressed as a farmwoman...

and we danced so gracefully...

they thought we were
daughters of the land.

Not from the aristocracy,
but from the rich bastardy.

Nobody danced like us.

You had fun.

I still can hear the drums
resounding like thunder...

...and I shivered when I did.
- I'm not surprised.

The sound of the drum is evocative
of the most profound...

anxieties of the human heart.

Love desires, and even bloody ones.

It would be good for a woman
to be a Sulamite...

if she really had existed...

and had married king David
to warm him in bed.

Yes, as one of the many
wives he had.

It 's in the Bible.

Sulamite, excuse me...

the foreigner Abisag of Sunam...

was too young and very beautiful...

as David says...
the king didn't know her.

You might say so, but...

Sulamite has so many generations
of visionaries...

that one cannot ignore her.

How do you imagine her, madam?

I'd appreciate
if you didn't call me "madam".

How I imagine her, professor?
Well, do you know Cher?

The one who has the big hairpiece?

Yes, the singer and movie actress
I like so much.

She has this Sulamite air about her.

Sorry, Abisag of Sunam,
as father Feliciano says.

The Virgin Mary could be like that.
Will you help me in that description?

The professor is a scholar
in Biblical History.

Well, we should go
to the next room.

- Such as I think...
- Excuse me.

Excuse me, professor.
We should go to the next room...

for coffee.

Sulamite was a shepherdess
from the Egyptian race...

by the time of the Egyptian
domain in Palestine.

Or better yet...

a descendent from the times in which
they swore loyalty to the Pharaoh.

Did you know that the Virgin Mary
was a rich lady?

How could I know?

And it also depends on what
you understand by "rich".

Exactly.

I am rich.
I made my fortune in Brazil.

Is that a problem?

Now I teach music to young people...

to see if I can find some talent.

If Our Lady was rich,
what 's the problem?

The rich are to help the poor.

But nothing proves that Mary
was from a wealthy family.

Exactly.

I don't want to go into analysis
that may harm...

your Christian feelings, so...

let 's not talk about
the Dead Sea Scrolls.

Excuse me, let 's call it
"the apocryphal gospel".

Let 's say so, but the priests
know that...

the New Testament
has a lot of indicia.

The Canaan Feast! The tunic that
the soldiers gambled at dice...

was not one of the poor, surely!

The tunic was seamless,
it had no sewing.

But these are details
that do not change...

the basic teachings
of the New Testament.

Exactly. And if she wasn't poor,
nobody knows.

My sister, since she was a child...

have always wished to see
the Virgin Mary...

to see her and talk to her.

This is my sister's dream:

The apparition of the Virgin Mary,
rich or poor.

- Hello?
- Well, let 's have a coffee.

I'm fine, thank you.

You give too much credit
to this Englishman.

He's a professor of Ancient History
of the Middle East.

He made his studies
and researches in England.

He is a Sir. He's not a nobody.

And the way he treated me...

a Western, was very unexpected.

I even told him once...

"I don't realize what you're saying,
but it makes me good".

- And what did he say?
- He? He said...

"Everything we don't understand
ends up being a cult.

When the Christian Church
exempted Latin from mass...

it lost its sacredness".

A rich lady!
I can't get it out of my mind.

Our Lady was rich.

Rich like myself.

What are you going to do, Luciano?

Your mother passed away
a few weeks ago.

That 's why.
I need to visit her grave.

I feel... I feel she is calling me.
I have to go.

If you're that obsessed with
your mother's death, then go.

But be back soon.

But it 's in Porto.

I know. All the more reason.
Take the car, it 's faster.

I'll pray for you
at my mother's grave.

Go, go.

May God be with you.

Antonio is also here, isn't he?

He is.

And our mother, why is she here?

Because that 's what Antonio's
mother wished.

And by consent by the Ropers,
because it 's a common tomb.

So Camila, when she dies,
she'll also be here...

by Antonio's side.

Naturally, since Camila is his heir.

Death will unite them again.

Maybe not.
She can be in another grave.

But, once they're dead,
what does it matter to you?

It does. As it does matter to me
who's the father of Vanessa's son.

Who knows who's the father
of such a woman's son!

If she's not in the other grave,
Camila will be together with Antonio.

The dead have no life.

You don't know that.

You were doing fine.
Just too fast.

Let 's continue from there.

Are you the new nurse
or companion?

I was sent by father Clodel.

Father Clodel died.

I may be wrong, but they told me
he had died.

May I sit down a while?

It was a long walk, and my legs
aren't as good as they used to be.

From Avila to Salamanca,
it 's more than twenty leagues.

I used to walk that long
with no effort at all.

"With one leg on my back",
as you say around here.

Of course, sister. Sit down
on this chair with cushions.

There's no need for that.
I'd rather sit by your side.

As you wish.

Here I am.

Father Clodel told me to come here.

Yes, I know. But why?

Pardon me,
but I have no time to waste.

You should wear socks
with those sandals.

Sometimes I think whether Christ
wore sandals with socks.

I have thoughts like that
that won't leave me. I'm not crazy.

I just have strange thoughts
that won't leave me.

I think these
are unimportant things...

just natural things
you should pay no attention to.

They grow like foam
and take us over.

And if they laugh at us,
there is the danger...

because they turn
into a point of honor.

Then we think it 's much
what it 's just nothing.

Thank God you think so, sister!

Come closer, my sister.

What is this garb?

It 's Blessed Virgin's.
That 's the way she dressed.

How do you know?
Do you have visions like me?

It 's nothing. Don't worry.

You have visions?

They have a strange beauty,
like a feast of singing birds.

And branches that seem
to be shaken by angels.

I once understood that
God was in everything...

and my soul was like a sponge
soaking in water.

I'm consoled to hear you.
But consolation is sadness.

Have you ever seen the Virgin?

It 's an idea that haunts me
and won't let me rest.

One day I saw Our Lady
of the Nativity on my side.

And she was there on my side
for a couple of days...

on my left side,
just like you are now.

I was afflicted...

because the visions seemed
to be nothing but conceit.

I listen to you and I feel
that reason fails me.

Good can tempt us
as hard as Evil.

Oh life, enemy of my beloved,
who is allowed to finish you!

I look at you and I remember
I was crazier when I was fifteen...

but nobody noticed
I was out of my sense.

They thought I was too young...

and with sores on my skin
that looked like a fly's dirt.

"If they smelled it would be worse",
my cook would say.

But nobody accused me
of being senseless.

Now I am sensible,
and nobody believes me.

St. John of the Cross was so small,
and he fell off the mule many times.

I was moved to see him so little,
and yet sound like Seneca.

It 's getting windy.
I must be going.

What is a vision?

It 's not something that you see
inside or outside...

for it 's not imaginary.

But you know it 's there.
It 's the presence, not the imagination.

Like the wind.

- I enjoyed your company.
- Thank you.

I have to go to Spain tomorrow.
I'll be back then.

Come.

Mrs. Alfreda?

Mrs. Alfreda? I've come for you...

and I apologize for having taken
longer than it was planned.

Yes, I was worried.

But tell me, was your mother
a religious person?

Yes, she was, as I recall.
At Camila's house...

she would pray for the Virgin
on a painting by Raphael on the wall.

Come closer. Let 's talk a little.

She would get up early
and go to the first mass everyday.

She was very devoted.

And she hated Afonso Costa...

I guess because he separated
Church from State.

She called him "The Antichrist".

What would be of us
without our hatreds?

They promise us our victories.

My mother knew many stories
of the ancient princes...

from the time of the King of Moab.

I don't know who told her.
I really don't.

So you really liked your mother.
Your brother Fl�rido loved her.

That 's true. You can say they lived
a perfect idyll in their life.

"A perfect idyll"?

That 's an archaic way
of talking about motherly love.

It 's a divine favor.

Don't you want to have children?

I would liked to have lived in
the archaic times of your mother...

and enter the most intimate maternal
secrets, like the Virgin Mary...

raised to the perfect idyll
of mother and son...

and therefore immortal
and immaculate.

You make me think of my mother.

You know, sometimes
I don't miss her at all...

because death separate us
for our own good.

What do you mean,
"for our own good"?

I'm sorry, I'm talking too much.

You don't have to apologize,
I like listening to you.

And I will tell you
what 's my strongest desire.

My strongest desire is to have
an apparition of Our Lady.

Forgive me, but even Joan of Arc...

...didn't go further than hearing voices.
- But I didn't want voices.

Why wouldn't Our Lady appear to me?

Please forgive me, again...

but these aren't things
that depend on our will.

Forgive me...

but the chats you used to have
with professor Heschel...

I noticed they made you depressed.

You are mistaken.

Professor Heschel
helped me a lot...

he knew the Bible
and the Dead Sea Scrolls deeply.

I even remember all his words...

of how he described Jesus
and His origin...

that His grandparents were rich,
that He taught in the temple...

and that He would spend the night
at the Garden of Gethsemane...

which was naturally
a family property.

You are going through a depression.

I see you wish me well...

but mind your own troubles,
Luciano, for they're not few.

Let 's go.

You still think of Vanessa,
don't you?

Don't worry about me.

I am patient and I won't give up
until Virgin Mary appears...

and I'm able to ask her
some questions.

You shouldn't let your imagination
run away with you.

Why don't you go to the baths?

Such promises are not meant
to be fulfilled.

They just serve to sustain
the people's imagination.

The politicians are well
aware of that.

You're a fool, Jos� Luciano!

You just believe in what
you make up yourself.

That 's peculiar to men.
But women are different.

We expect the wonderful
to happen to us...

and that promises are fulfilled.

The Messiah is our work.

Think of how many women
have bore children...

after winning their
repugnance to sex.

My son...

how many women the Sacred History
gave us as examples!

Sarah and Rebecca;
Elizabeth and Hannah.

How many more, we don't know.

I think about that a lot,
and I think I'm like them.

You shouldn't think
about such things.

No, I'm not depressed,
if that 's what you mean.

Are you dismissing me
of your services?

Dismiss you of my services?
What has got into you?

I don't know.
Maybe I was inconvenient for you.

Untie my shoes.

And how can I, Mrs. Alfreda...

Go on, now the other one.

...want an apparition before me...

if I don't even feel like
eating my soup...

nor tie my shoelaces?

She went for a swim in the river,
without saying a word...

she just left me standing there.

And what did you want her to do?
To take you in her arms?

You are serving her,
don't you ever forget that.

That 's right.
I'm not professor Heschel...

who makes her head spin
with those stories from the Bible...

and that obsession
for the Virgin Mary's vision.

I'll see if I can get a job
somewhere else.

Yes. Why humiliate myself and
fear getting in her bad graces?

I'm afraid of losing Alfreda's trust.

Yes, because I'm poor,
I have nothing.

To Alfreda,
things are more extraordinary.

There's a passage in the Holy Writ,
in Deuteronomy...

that Alfreda frequently quotes...

it 's a description of the
Promised Land, and it reads...

"There should be no poor
in your house".

- You see? That 's what I said.
- Wait.

It means poor in the spirit,
no literally.

And as professor Heschel
explained it...

it refers more to selflessness...

to generosity...

which is a gift rather than a will.

But she also insists that
the Virgin Mary was rich.

It 's obvious that if we were
to accept the authority...

of the Gospel of Saint James,
Christ 's brother...

Mary was the daughter
of a very wealthy man.

That 's what professor Heschel
told Alfreda.

Alfreda also said that women
today don't know...

what it is to be deprived
of children.

And that she feels,
each day that passes...

that she's not blessed,
and that Bahia feels the same.

He hires instructors
to teach music to the poor...

so that one day,
they get famous and say...

"The rich gave us instruments
and masters to teach us".

And she added, "Not one of them is
talented and they only make noises".

And she said Bahia is sad...

but if she gave him a son,
everything would be different.

A son would change things.

A son isn't that great.
He can go astray.

That 's not what Alfreda thinks.

She believes a son
can be a lot of trouble...

but fertility is holy.

Nothing else is holy.
Everything else is impure.

She told me that, too, and I saw
tears rolling down her face.

That 's when I saw that
she was undoubtedly sick.

Otherwise, why would
such a lucky woman cry?

The professor is to blame.

He tells her these stories,
I don't know if willingly.

Were not for the professor...

we would have never known,
Alfreda or I...

so many admirable things
about the birth of Mary.

Nor like she, at three years of age,
would dance gracefully...

and receive food
from the hand of an angel.

I don't believe in that.

She's very sick and
her mind is not sound.

And you are just like her.

Don't stand at the door.

Sit down, man.

If I could see Mary...

I'm sure she would answer me.

"Answer" what?

Don't talk like that,
like you were an atheist!

You are an atheist.
You shouldn't speak or say anything.

Listen.

Mary was spinning the scarlet silk...

then she went to fetch water
and heard...

"The Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou amongst women".

If Our Lady was just like
professor Heschel said...

a rich girl who enchanted all Israel...

for she was beautiful,
certainly for what they told her...

because, according to Heschel,
she had never looked in the mirror...

knowing of my great desire
of having her apparition...

why would she choose the shepherds
of Fatima and others like those...

and not appear to me,
a learned person...

who can speak in
an understandable manner?

I would ask her things
no one ever did.

What 's the matter, Luciano?

You make me uneasy
with the things you say.

Wait.

I don't want trouble.
Don't be so rude.

I'm not firing you.
Is that what worries you?

I can work anywhere.
It 's not that.

Than what is it?

I don't know.
I've lost contact with you...

you seem like a stranger.

That 's good.

But we are all like that.

Nobody knows anybody
nor wants to.

You shouldn't want to know
what professor Heschel tells you.

He gives you crazy notions.
Excuse me.

What 's wrong with that?

Has anybody ever thought
about the soul of the rich?

Saint-Saens.

Mascani, Berlioz, Wagner.

Yes, Mr. Bahia, very interesting.

The other time I was here,
I didn't notice it.

I love music...

and these are my favorite composers.

Thank you so much
for tuning up the piano.

By the way, how much
do I owe you, Mr. Quinta?

The same as always.
But there's no hurry, Sr. Bahia.

Let 's go to my office.

The Blue Bull is here?
Don't you remember the Counterfeiter?

Isn't that Filipe Quinta!

Give me a hug!

We finally meet!
What are you doing here?

I tune up Mr. Bahia's piano.

- What 's up?
- You tell me!

Let 's go outside.
I want to know the news.

- And how did you end up here?
- It was my brother, Fl�rido.

I'm the chauffer of the house.

Here of all places,
and Mrs. Alfreda is very captivating.

If I were you, I'd get lost.

Your brother was smart,
he married the right woman.

There's a right woman
for each type of man.

I think you're being fooled
by this evil woman.

- Me? She could be my mother!
- Come on!

Think of her as business.
The best kind.

They enjoy being sacrificed, explored.

You never noticed how they complain?

- I'm not interested.
- You're a fool.

A nice guy, but a fool.

She can only think about the soul
of the rich, and she wants...

...to see Our Lady.
- "To see Our Lady"?

Yes, to see Our Lady.

And there's this professor Heschel...

who told her some crazy notions...

about Our Lady being
of a wealthy family.

- She really wants to see Our Lady?
- It 's an obsession!

Wait!

- Why don't we operate this miracle?
- What miracle?

We find a girl who looks
like Our Lady...

and set up an apparition.

Are you crazy?
She would never buy it!

Besides, Alfreda doesn't just want
to see Our Lady...

but she wants to ask her questions.

- What kind of questions?
- That I don't know.

With or without questions, it 's just
a matter of finding a capable girl.

Let 's make this work.

You are really a counterfeiter.

Here's my address.

Why did you come?

The other times I brought you here,
I was worried.

You alone...
You have to be careful.

There are tramps around here,
and they can bother you.

Nothing bad ever happened to me.

But it might happen.

Forgive me, but you shouldn't risk
yourself like that.

I know you have always led
an unruly life...

and now you show yourself so shy.

What does it mean, Luciano?

It doesn't mean anything.

I just think I must be
respectful with you.

But I'm not austere with you.

That is why. I must respect you.

Come with me.
I want to confess you something.

Today some people say, "Lucky
are those who have no children...

who have not to educate them".

Having children today is a problem.
Sometimes they go astray.

Well, I disagree. I'd love to have
children, but I don't have any.

Even Mary, being a virgin,
she had a son...

and my husband is not able
to fill my womb.

Maybe it 's not his fault.
Doesn't he even try?

Luciano! Of course he does.

- Don't you find me attractive?
- Of course I do.

But if he doesn't try,
nothing will happen.

Even the birds are fertile...

and my luck is miserable,
because I have no children.

What compares to my luck?

Not even the wild animals,
which are fertile before the Lord.

What compares to my luck?

Not even the river waters,
blessed...

by the fishes multiplying in them.

What compares to my luck?

Not even the earth...

because the earth bear fruits
that bring glory to the Lord.

What compares to my luck, Luciano?

Mrs. Alfreda, we'd better
go back home.

Yes, we'd better. Let 's go.

At last you arrive.

Yes, sir! That 's great engineering!

This house is not mine,
I rent it from a fisherman...

and this rig is peculiar to those
who hang hammocks in boats.

But what about the girl
we are looking for?

I have seen and talked
to several of them.

They were no good,
specially those who wrote poetry.

These were the worst!
Fernando Pessoa would say so.

We can put an ad.

Forget about this ad business.

I'm sick of bad writing
and bad conscience.

We'll do it differently. We can pay
someone to find the right one.

Today a prince would have
more difficulty...

in finding Cinderella's shoe last.

Which is a phallic symbol,
as you know.

- I didn't know.
- Congratulations. You should be proud.

You didn't have a comprehensive
and approved education...

which gives you some advantage
with women.

You'd be able to write novels
with some interest.

You're mocking me.

You are upset because
I haven't found...

the so-called divine woman
you ordered me to.

But don't despair.

After disillusionment,
you shall have a surprise.

I don't like surprises.
In order to have results...

and find the ideal woman
to play the Virgin Mary...

- Yes, what do we do?
...we need a plan.

And what if I told you
I already have a plan?

- You're an ignoramus!
- Me? No. Uneducated maybe.

Not an ignoramus. And you?
You are a low man.

On top of a chair,
I'm taller than any other man.

I don't even need the chair.

You're a handsome man,
but a fool.

When Mary was three years old,
she was taken to the temple...

and the priest had her sit
on the third step of the stairs...

and the Lord poured onto her
His grace...

she did some dance steps,
and the house of Israel loved her...

so wonderful she was.

Having you been reading
the Gospel or what?

See how you're an ignoramus?
This is not the Gospel.

- It 's the Protoevangelium by James.
- How imaginative!

I'm not imaginative!
It 's in the Papyrus Bodmer...

under the title "Nativity of Mary,
Revelations by James"...

written around the 2nd Century.

So I see you already know a lot
about this matter.

Now, what you don't know,
and you can't even imagine...

is what I'm about to show you.

Show me? Show me what?

Exactly what you are about to see.
Go sit down by your desk.

O blessed woman!

O blessed woman!

This young man...

is no good.

More than that, he's a good man
with bad habits...

...that cannot be cured.
- Oh yeah? Now look...

what do you mean
by "blessed woman"?

It can even be a poor woman...

who's led an exemplary life.
I've known a few.

Vanessa could be used,
if I knew what 's made of her.

Vanessa must be old,
if she is still alive.

I still can see her with all her nails
and toes painted black.

A scary thing.
She had no culture whatsoever!

Vanessa was a very
presentable woman.

And she knew how to pick a woman!

All right. Nothing like a whore
to equip a brothel, yes, sir!

The good guys
are very difficult to mend...

if not at all impossible.

Look, Luciano, if we lost
our illusions towards women...

the world would end.

Was this her dress?

This dress was Camila's...

and I had asked my mother
to put it away for me.

And since Vicenta
is the same height...

and I wanted to impress you,
I decided to use it.

It dresses her well indeed.

Yes, but we need to give her
some other name.

She wants to be anonymous in this.

If she was a man,
she could be Abril.

Abril Peres de Lumiar was
the great-grandson of Egas Moniz.

You're really a counterfeiter.
We can call her April.

Why not? I don't think she'll mind.

I don't care.

But you are vulgar!

I don't want my name in this.
I'll be April from now on.

So you accept our conditions?

I do.

Mr. Luciano told me about the pay.

I've never seen
so much money in my life.

I was raised to be poor...

and ambitions wouldn't fit
in our budget.

I accept it for the money,
because I need it...

but I confess that
I am also curious.

She's a good girl.
And from good people.

It 's important to be from good people.

They observed the ancient customs...

and weren't punished
with the shit in the mouth...

which was the punishment
for those who gossiped.

You're making this up.

I'm serious!

Don't pull my hair.

- I wasn't pulling your hair.
- I don't like to be uncombed.

It gives such a bad impression!

Our father used to check on us
to see if we were tidy.

One day he told a guy
I was dating...

with whom I didn't marry.
He said...

"You'd better know she never
empties the washbasin".

I still don't do that,
I don't know why...

but I don't open the basin valve.
I can't figure out why.

What are you doing?

Nothing. I was just looking
in the mirror.

You have this habit of walking
barefoot around the house!

You're like a thief,
nobody sees you coming.

- This is your birth month.
- Not mine, it 's Ramiro's.

- Aren't you mistaken?
- No, I'm not.

They look so much alike
you'd think they're twins.

Madam, Mr. Luciano is
in the living room with Mr...

with Mr. Filipe, the piano tuner.
They want to speak with you.

Take the table away
and tell them I'm coming.

Good morning, Mrs. Alfreda.

Good morning. Please sit down.

Mr. Filipe wanted to talk with you...

because he knows very well
every writing about the Virgin Mary.

So tell me, was Our Lady rich?

I saw an Our Lady
at your entrance...

under Christ on the cross.

It 's a beautiful art piece.

Only then it occurred to me
I should've brought flowers...

so Mrs. Alfreda could place them
at the feet of such grieved Virgin.

My gardener doesn't like flowers.

He liked cleaning
the silverware better.

I would tell him, prune the roses,
plant the bulbs.

But he would do the opposite.

He didn't like receiving
orders from women.

He'd rather have a homunculus
giving him orders...

than those women
with their nails painted lilac.

He wouldn't bear having
lilacs in his garden.

I liked to ride my bicycle around
the garden flowers better...

I felt like Our Lady
was with me...

riding by my side.

If I lost my balance, there would
still be time to change a few words.

Oh Mrs. Alfreda!

Our Lady riding a bike
is not very becoming!

A Lady's bicycle.
With a flying white dress.

- Flying like what?
- Like the angels, Luciano.

- I don't believe in these things.
- You don't believe in Our Lady?

I believe in Our Lady...

but what Mrs. Alfreda wants
to know is if She was rich...

and since you're some kind
of philosopher...

and chats with father Clodel,
you must know.

What I see is that Our Lady is
always represented like a queen.

Father Clodel does not oppose
Her being from a wealthy family.

This doesn't cancel Her holiness.

And according to father Clodel...

what matters is
the Virgin Mary's holiness.

I agree. My strongest desire
would be to have a vision of Her.

I could stay where I am
and have the pleasure...

of receiving the Virgin Mary
for a tea.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Alfreda, but I don't
like it when you say these things.

I was raised as a Christian
and went to mass every Sunday.

At the high altar, there was a painting
of the Virgin's wedding, by Raphael.

Nobody ever told me it was a Raphael,
I learned it by myself.

What Mrs. Alfreda said
is worth an expression of faith...

a desire to enter the heavens.

That is right.
I've felt it since I was a girl.

And more than that, the desire
to speak to the Virgin Mary.

There's no woman
like the Virgin indeed.

But Mrs. Alfreda is a lady.

She might not be the chair of wisdom
or the mystic rose...

or the heavens door, or the
morning star, as the litany says.

But I owe you much of what I am.

I appreciate what you say
because you're not a bad man.

But I didn't teach you
how to drive the Jaguar.

It 's difficult. Yes, it is.

But where would you like to start?

- May I start from here?
- Yes, you may.

It 's the ideal time
for April to appear.

There's a natural bitterness
in the disappearing sun.

I agree.

I think it 's too risky.
What if April can't handle it?

Let 's not overdo it.
We won't have her say...

"O Lord, save my modesty
from the horn of the unicorn!"

Unless we want them
to burst in laughter.

By the way, didn't she
tell you about the laundry?

She's been wearing white
since this started.

White gets dirty easily.

It 's the color of the rich,
if you know what I mean.

This apparition's gonna be funny.

You keep joking about it.

And you think this is serious?

Don't you see that
this has become an obsession...

and a very serious matter
to Mrs. Alfreda?

She said that when she went to the
balls and everybody greeted her...

she thought that they were
all very happy.

And that, all of a sudden,
she had this feeling...

like she was approached
by a strange man who asked her...

"What are you doing here
without your soul?

Go back home and don't leave there".

And then she told me...

"He as a man with an ugly face,
not very tall.

Then he disappeared".

What do you think, Filipe?

Nothing.

You must have good profit
renting this place.

Yes, I have good profit.

But it 's too much work
and I'm getting tired.

I have even rejected
some bookings.

- And your husband doesn't mind?
- He doesn't oppose.

He's not very interested in this.

He likes his music school.
That 's his life.

- Shall we go there listen to him?
- You go.

- I'm going to take a rest now.
- Aren't you feeling well?

No. I haven't been feeling well
lately. Let 's go.

So, where's April?

She's with the seamstress
trying on the new dress.

- What about the fisherman?
- He lives upstairs.

I met a Spanish in P�voa...

who had moulds for pesetas
and other things.

I learned my art with him.

A finer hand for engraving...

you wouldn't find
in a thousand years, he said.

- What about April?
- She's coming!

I just wanted to help poor Alfreda,
who's very confused.

And now?

Well, she tells me child memories
that she had forgotten...

and now come to her mind.

And she seems to be afraid
that people find out other things.

I'll bet she is.

As hard as we look
into people's hearts...

we can't find a tiny bit
of truth...

because the heart
is the biggest liar there is.

- She doesn't travel as she used to?
- No.

She won't even go to Israel anymore.

Bahia doesn't want her to go,
because of the war.

When she traveled, she felt good.
Like a heroine of some sort.

But not anymore.

She's not interested in travels,
and as to the weddings...

which paid her a good money
in the gardens...

she renounced it completely.
She spends her days in silence...

like children who cease to speak
as a cry for help.

She seems ill.

It 's a common trace in
the Virgin's apparition:

She almost doesn't speak...

and if she does, it 's secretly.
Remember that, April.

Yes, I'll remember that.

- Are you comfortable?
- Very much.

But I don't like
to wear this wig.

I'm worried about something else.

What?

How are we gonna
fake the apparition?

It 's simple. I come from behind
and call her...

Alfreda!

Not bad.

But how will you disappear
before Alfreda's eyes?

Yes, that 's the problem.

Well, you've seen it. I'll let you
think while I take this off.

Another wait.

And I...

I'm gonna do some work.

I think you really like April.

You've picked the right girl.

That 's not what I mean.

The seamstress wants to know
if you still need her.

I don't think so. You can go.
We'll call if we need you.

I'm at your service, Mr. Filipe.

- I'm going, too.
- No. April, you can stay.

I'm leaving.
I have to go.

Mr. Filipe?

Mr. Filipe!

Help! Help!

Help!

Hey! Filipe! Filipe!

Hey!

I feel bad.

We must call an ambulance,
Mr. Luciano.

You're right.

Please help me take him out.

What are you doing there,
staring at the river?

Can't you hear me, Alfreda?

It 's me!

You don't recognize my voice?

It sounds familiar.

Don't you feel well, Alfreda?

Strange voice that soothes me.

- I feel I'm about to faint...
- You're not going to faint, Alfreda.

Walk. You shouldn't
be standing there.

But who is speaking?

You don't recognize my voice?

I don't know.

You don't recognize me,
or are you just feigning it?

I don't do that.

It 's me, Luciano. Who else?

The Blue Bull!
Why didn't you tell me?

Nobody recognizes my voice
better than you.

You were daydreaming.

I don't even know what happened.

I don't know... was it an angel
announcing the Virgin Mary?

A feeling...

like She was about to appear.

Stop going about such absurdities.

- You'd better go home.
- Yes, I'm tired.

If Mr. Filipe were here,
he would explain it.

He knows a lot about these things.

Do you want to know what
he told me some time ago?

- Please tell me.
- That Jesus had the soul of a rich man.

- He told you that?
- Yes. And I even asked him...

..."How is the soul of a rich man?"
- And what did he answer?

I'd love to talk to Mr. Filipe!

"It 's an incandescent soul,
but cold"...

he answered with a voice
so faint I barely heard him.

- Is he sick?
- Yes, he's in the hospital.

- Then it 's serious?
- No, no. He'll get over it.

But, as I was saying,
he added with a weak voice...

"The soul of the just",
that 's what he thinks...

"...is verbose, because
it 's proper of the just...

to think they have time
to rejoice in their pride".

And he said the disciples
were offended...

because a woman left
pure spikenard at His feet...

a very expensive perfume.

I don't know how he finds the time
to think about such things.

Please come in.

- What are you doing?
- That 's what I'd like to know.

They came to take Mr. Filipe
to the hospital...

and I've been here for a week
completely away from my own life.

- I'm going back to my hometown.
- But we have a deal.

I'm not doing anything here,
and I want to see my son.

Look, you owe me some money.

- What is this?
- The list of expenses.

Clothes and toilet items.

I'm not rich like Our Lady!

I'm gonna pay you this sum,
but we have a deal...

and you must come back
as soon as Mr. Filipe gets better.

- Lf you pay for my tickets, of course.
- We'll pay for every expense.

All right.

Money, money!
That 's all I need.

See you.

I was sick.
I mean, I still am.

But I've gotten up because
I wanted to talk to you.

You don't look sick.

But I've been felling bad.

The doctor said I suffer
from depression.

That 's what they said I had.

But you know doctors...

Yes, I do.

I also know that sentimental
relapse is popular these days...

which occupies a big part
of society, with the divorces...

with the contracts,
the liturgical feasts...

and, above all, with
the fanaticism of the truth...

which is another form of shyness.

The fanaticism of the truth
is the password...

implanted like
a new way of living...

by politicians, judges, priests,
physician and students.

Fanaticism for not knowing that
they can't face the future...

the changes and dehumanization
of relations.

And what good is left in the society?
The women, always the women.

You have to rethink women.

Mary was a woman.

Was Mary rich?

If Our Lady appeared to me,
I'd invite her to sit by my side...

and I would think, if I did that...

She would be offended.

And I remember a maid
in my grandmother S�lvia's house...

who resigned when someone
pass her the plate to help her.

"I don't serve who wants
to serve me", she said.

She would treat people
in the house as Your Honor.

Such an anachronism!

It wasn't shameful to serve because
it enclosed an erotic effect...

more pleasant than the
equality in sex or in fortune.

Just a matter of speaking.

The truth is the Devil is a man...

and evil is attributed
to masculinity.

For my experience,
I can tell you one thing...

the love of a woman
is a matter of self-love.

She can leave a man,
but she can't stand being left.

My conjugal relation
is very unusual.

We don't have children and
we live almost like we were single.

Bahia loves music...

and I, the desire to see Our Lady.

I've never seen you
as blond as you are now.

When we're against the light
we seem to be blonder.

Do you think Our Lady
had blonde hair?

Not a provocative blond,
but a darker one...

the color of the jacinth
we read in the Bible?

I once saw girls in a kibbutz
who had the hair like that.

Their hair wasn't red,
but like a flame.

You could almost hear it cracking,
like a flame.

At the Church of the Sepulcher
in Jerusalem...

there is a Virgin
over a scaffolding.

It 's a huge woman,
it looks gigantic.

It 's nothing like the doll-like
figures in the apparitions.

The proportions are not the same.
Do you know what it means?

I don't know what it means.

That we have reduced our image
before the greatness of celestial love.

I have always thought
about madam in a different way.

- What way?
- Like you were a saint...

or wanted to be an uncommon
person, different from others.

- I don't know what you mean.
- You had a wonderful idea.

Seeing Our Lady
is a wonderful idea.

I don't have this kind of vanity,
like the poor and the ragged.

I was born rich and at four years of age
I ate asparagus and Gruyere cheese.

I had already tasted the most
extraordinary flavors...

like orange with
olive oil and vinegar.

Have you ever eaten an orange
salad with olive oil and vinegar?

Never. But you don't have
to be rich for that.

You don't have to be rich to eat...

but you have to be rich...

to taste.

What are we waiting for
to die but a revelation?

We spend our time
tearing us apart, like beasts.

Without it, we're nothing.

After all, for you to create
the figure of the Virgin Mary...

is a question of genius.

It has nothing to do with
your counterfeit money.

You had to jump from Eden
to the Olympus...

as if they were together.

I don't want so much.
Alfreda impressed me.

What is she doing now?

She has her moments
of hallucinations...

like when she said she saw
Heschel walking towards her...

after his death.

They're like a morbid
desire for compensation.

Which means she hasn't abandoned
the idea of seeing Our Lady.

Which means that April
will have to fake the apparition.

Yes, that 's right.

- What 's going on?
- Nothing.

The man has arrived.

Look, there's the tuner.

The class is over for today.

So, what 's the problem?

How can we practice
with the piano out of tune?

I was just here and tuned it up!

But it 's out of tune.

These are old, worn-out pianos
that need assistance.

You should buy new ones.

New pianos?
That would cost a fortune!

It would be better,
you wouldn't need my services.

It would be great for the school.

Well, I have to think about it.

Anyway, I have to talk to Alfreda.

Mr. Quintas has
to tune up the piano.

I'd better, if Mr. Bahia agrees.

What else can we do?
Please tune up the piano.

What about Alfreda?

I think she went to bed.
She seemed really tired.

I'll talk to her,
make her company.

I'll be back soon.

Mrs. Alfreda needs someone
to cheer her up.

The death of professor Heschel
made her very depressed.

Yes, Mrs. Alfreda loved
his conversations...

and really looked forward
to seeing him in Jerusalem.

After all, his death
was unexpected.

Professor Heschel was a great
authority in the Virgin Mary.

And talk about Mary to Alfreda
is talk about heaven.

What can I do for you?

What you already have done.

But I haven't done anything.

You couldn't do anything better.

Now I notice. You don't wear
your gold chain anymore?

Sometimes I do.

But I like my pearl, coral
and turquoise collars better.

It 's not civilized,
but it 's like that.

Bahia loves Alfreda. And the proof
is that he knows everything...

and, very discreetly,
he lets her do what she pleases.

Luciano saw Alfreda
in a day of greater suffering...

bang on the wall
as if to wake someone up...

and scream at the ceiling,
"Lord, O Lord!

If you had eyes to look at me,
I'd smack you in the face!"

- She said that?
- Yes...

and Luciano was terrorized.

It was as if she was poisoned.

- Who? April?
- Good Lord, not me!

- Alfreda. April is an angel.
- But what about Alfreda?

You look different.

It 's just that Alfreda had a crisis
after Heschel's death...

cancelled the trip to Jerusalem
and decided to sell the Jaguar.

- They won't do it!
- They did.

It took some time,
but there was a buyer...

and Bahia put me to work
delivering bricks.

Now I drive a truck.

- A truck?
- Yes, it 's down there.

But what 's the matter with Alfreda?

I said that for Alfreda
all is celestial love...

that she suffers from it
in a different way...

and sometimes she would
scream of joy.

Yes.

She told me once...

"I am sure Heschel liked me.

How come I didn't see it?"

She didn't see it
because she didn't want to.

You know what she didn't
want to doubt?

- No.
- The fifth liberty.

But what is that, for God's sake?

I feel like you're about
to tell me some absurdity.

The fifth liberty is to do harm.

To destroy, to crush,
to make the ground sterile...

to dip the bread in blood
and eat it.

And I told her, "Dear Alfreda,
you are much esteemed...

you love the fifth liberty
more than the other four".

And what are they?

That 's what she asked.

They are the ones included
in the ruling system. Peace above all.

The peace dove with its open wings
and bearing an olive branch.

- And what did she say?
- "I can't answer that".

And what did you tell her?

The most important things in life
don't want any answer.

"No", she said, as she was
only half awaken.

The dinner was over and
some had already left the table.

No�mia, at the door with
her sons, asked...

"Can't I do anything for you?"

"No", she said.

Everybody laughed.

I don't know who is worse between
you two, or if you were drunk.

After all, what am I doing here?
I'll do the apparition or not?

By Filipe's eyes, you've done
your apparition already.

Or haven't you noticed that
Filipe here is in love with you?

Women notice everything
without showing they do.

Well, well.

I'm going to work.

He's a good man.

Here's the ineffable presence
of our inevitable self.

I thought about you and you arrived
so quickly it scares me.

Sit down.

I came from Medina
as soon as I could.

I wasn't well educated
with patience.

Patience reaches everything.

I felt my mouth
filled with blood...

so full of impatience I was.

Now I am better.

I hear a child's cry
day and night...

and I feel ashamed
for being impatient with God.

These are the words
of scared drunkards...

which we always have to pay for.

There are many things
we do not understand...

but through the eyes of those
who don't see nor understand.

So don't be startled,
my lady...

when little shepherds who look
like worms on the ground...

turn into white butterflies...

through the understanding
of what you cannot understand.

All this medicine are not good
to warm your heart...

nor give it wings to fly.

I remember you,
then I don't anymore.

It was in the garden, I think.

Yes, it was.

There were trees in bloom, and the
ground around them was golden.

The earth we step on is more
proper to cure us...

than thinking too much
about what troubles us.

The worst thing is that nothing troubles
me, and it feels like discontent.

Like love without tenderness
and its consolation.

Right now I am anxious...

and lost in an affliction which
is not privation nor cold...

but what I do not know...

where everything
turns into horror...

because there's no remedy
for the horror in the world.

Evil is the luxury of the powerful,
and the bad understanding of religion.

All I know about evil is that
you should avoid living by the river.

The water is good for your thirst,
but it 's harmful for your bones.

The same can be salvation
and punishment.

You don't look ill.

But I am not ill, sister.

I live in a loneliness
that is a comfort with no compare.

A loneliness so great people think
I am dead, although I breathe.

And I confuse people with
this half life that offends them.

They'd rather see me buried...

and regain their innocence, which
is not having to wish for death.

I say this and I am loved.

But love is a bigger
traitor than Judas...

who got lost for loving too much.

I see you think a lot
about the deceased.

It 's true. You can't expect
insult from the dead.

I was so afraid of getting married
and being unhappy...

that I would wet my face
and go to the sun...

so that it would make me ugly
and no boy would want me.

Have you ever heard anything
more absurd?

Where did you live...

and what time?

Today being suntanned is beautiful.

I don't know why.
We accept things for no reason.

Maybe... Maybe for love.

Love of a different grace.

Things aren't as I left them.
Somebody moved them.

Alfreda!

I pity her.

How come she occupies
so much space in everybody's life?

The space of the rich
is far too big.

I went to see a lady
who lived in great luxury...

and I wondered,
why didn't I have such destiny?

I would give to the poor
and make houses for them.

I'd take care of mothers without
a husband and of orphans.

I would use my fortune
and please God.

That 's when the lady
started to complain...

of the worries she had
about saving her goods...

counting the money
and ordering the servants.

She was afraid of being robbed...

and had iron bars
put on the doors and windows.

She suspected of doctors...

and their advice made her uneasy.

She didn't trust her friends...

and she felt her husband despised
her for being so rich.

She felt humiliated
because she really loved him.

She was very unhappy
and cried every day.

Nobody understood why she cried
and they scorned her.

They thought she didn't
deserve the fortune she had.

She gives us so much work!

Her laundry itself is a fortune!

Another fortune in medicine.

Why are people loved?

I don't know.

It 's a prejudice.

What did she do in life?
Nothing. She was useless.

And she speaks as if
it is a favor to serve her...

and tell her nice things.

She was so proud
she decided to be saint!

Saints are indolent.

That 's what I think.

Nobody tells them to be saint...

to sacrifice themselves,
to repent...

to sleep on a hard bed,
to eat rotten fruit.

They do it because they want to.

One day they gave me
a rotten cucumber for dinner...

and I told them to plant it
in the garden.

"Plant it standing up".

So much obedience pleased me.

You lose your innocence
when you question things.

But if we are given
a rotten cucumber...

we have it planted because
it 's no good for our supper.

The gods can also be taught.

It 's not only love and love!

I think she is very
disturbed and sleepy.

I don't know what to do.

But she keeps calling your name.

Maybe father Clodel might
comfort her with his words.

- Good afternoon.
- Father Clodel!

May God be with you.

Here is father Clodel.

Thank God you came.

I was out.
I could only come now.

- I have to tell you.
- Please do.

Sit here on the edge of my bed.

When I was leaving a restaurant,
a man said out loud...

"I don't like virile women.

If you were the small Hellenic
Cleopatra from head to toes...

I'd have your tongue cut off
and fed to the pigs!"

Oh Mrs. Alfreda!

I know, father Clodel.
This is serious.

I'm being tempted by the Devil.
I can even smell it.

You are stepping
on dangerous ground.

I know that father Clodel
is a learned man...

who doesn't disdain Biophysics
nor Neurophysiology...

and who doesn't care about
the communication between dolphins.

But I am not a dolphin...

and faith has segments that I ignore
and shouldn't explore.

Yes, faith has hidden segments...

which, forgive me for saying,
Mrs. Alfreda...

you don't always respect.

But the way...

and the intensity
you speak of Saint Paul...

is frankly absurd and shocking.

I know that I sometimes
upset you, father Clodel.

But Gamaliel said,
"Look for a master, avoid doubt".

So much he knew about the dangers
of thinking on your own.

Gamaliel was right.

Fortune serves me as a barrier,
and I lean out of it like a porch.

I wondered: What did God do
on the seventh day?

And I started to organize
weddings and be like God...

having known that God
made weddings...

after having made the world.

What seduces me in you
is your honesty.

My sister is very honest.
Way too much.

You can't be too honest.

Honesty has a measure
you can't flee from.

The other day Alfreda complained
about not having blisters.

They correspond
to the effects of seduction...

like the horny crests
on some dinosaurs.

They serve to excite the female.

Then we discovered
other methods of seduction...

like dancing the tango.

My grandmother S�lvia
thought tango was beautiful.

And an Argentine who had come
to Europe told her...

"I would never dance the tango
with my mother".

Just like Luciano.
Remember, Mrs. Alfreda?

Yes. Luciano is wise.

Well, one thing you
cannot teach is wisdom.

- And pleasure.
- Yes, you can't teach pleasure either.

You see, No�mia?

Father Clodel's visit excited me.

Your presence is enough
to operate a miracle.

- I'd say you could save the world.
- So you want to save the world?

Let me explain: Whoever doesn't want
to save the world is a dry cucumber.

You're leaving already?

Yes, I must go.

But I'm glad to see you
in a good disposition.

Thanks to your visit.

- No�mia, can you walk the father out?
- Certainly.

So you're going? No�mia,
I walk the father out.

I insist on walking the father.

You stay here with Alfreda.

- Mrs. Alfreda, Mr. Bahia.
- Good afternoon.

I have always loved you,
but it was like it was for later.

For evermore...

and I thought it was too early
for the eternity to start.

Now I am here to love you.

And what are we going to do
with eternity?

Everything...

but the trivial.

Illness seizes us
and we don't realize it.

When we notice it, we're doomed.

Oh! You can't be always
twenty years old!

I feel so bad for Mrs. Alfreda!

Yes, it 's a shame to see
someone disabled.

It 's like a horse when it breaks
a leg and you have to sacrifice it.

God forbid!

Sacrifice the madam?
Don't say that.

You think Mrs. Alfreda
is about to die?

You never know.

As a nurse, I have seen
many people die...

after a seeming recovery...

and others come back to life
after a seeming coma...

just like Mrs. Alfreda now.

Yes, that 's true. Mrs. No�mia
said we can be...

- Who is Mrs. No�mia?
- She's Mrs. Alfreda's older sister.

Oh yes! I remember her.
What did she say?

She says her sister can be
like that for years...

...and that she can survive us all.
- That 's what 's happening.

Don't you know
I was with them all the time?

Mr. Bahia wouldn't leave Mrs. Alfreda
for one single minute...

in the coma, in the hospital
and then in bed...

all the time they
traveled abroad...

like she was conscious!

Yes, because she wasn't
exactly alive.

That 's right. It took them
a long time to come back home.

But her sister, Mrs. No�mia,
she doesn't like to come here.

Why not?

She says she's scared
of seeing her sister like that.

For me, death only makes me hungry.

In the hospital, the doctor said
this state could last...

for months or years.

You never know.

So I thought the best thing to do
was to bring her home...

with the machines and the nurse.

Nurse Hilda, can she hear us?

It 's possible.

Physicians say nobody knows much
about the state of coma.

The brain might be unharmed
and with its functions all perfect.

Only the nerves are paralyzed...

as if under the effect of some poison.

But what poison?
She wasn't poisoned...

nor she was bitten by a cobra.

She was sitting on a garden bench
and she slowly fell aside.

- I didn't see it, I was told.
- I didn't see it either...

the gardener saw everything.

We called an ambulance
and rushed to the hospital...

with my sick baby.

You treat my sister
with no respect!

Please leave her alone!

Weren't you present
when Alfreda fell down?

No. The gardener ran up to me,
yelling...

"Mrs. Alfreda has fallen,
I don't know what to do!"

I ran to call an ambulance
and tell Mr. Bahia...

who took her to the hospital.

Mrs. Alfreda was
completely convinced...

that Our Lady was going to accept
the invitation to visit her...

and so heal the effect.

What effect?

The effect of the mirror
which is time.

Time?

Yes, the mirror as a reflection
of the past.

What else could it be?

The doctors told us
to bring her home...

that it was no use
to stay in the hospital.

Sit down, father.

So we brought her home,
and here she is.

Then I, in my despair...

did everything she desired
before her accident.

I took her to Algarve,
to one of the best hotels.

We spent some time there.

Then we went to Venice,
walked in Saint Mark's Square.

We saw the four horses over
the entrance of Saint Mark's church...

...and I showed her
the fresco with the Virgin...

at the entrance
of Saint Mark's church.

It looked like an apparition.

Then we stayed at the Danieli,
an old and splendid hotel.

It's sad she wasn't healthy...

like the othertime we went there.

It was so painful!

But I even took her on a gondola
ride through the canals.

Iwonder if she saw...

if she felt
those places she was in.

How will I know?

And I saw her eyes half closed,
half open...

I don't know. I saw her eyes,
but how could I know...

if she saw or heard, if she had
the experience of those places?

Even so, as I knew she really
wanted to go to Jerusalem...

I knew it...

and I thought the most comfortable
way to take her...

would be by helicopter,
and there I took my sick baby.

We went to the Holy City,
to the Wailing Wall...

to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher,
to the Garden of Gethsemane...

and then we went upthe street
where Christ walked with the cross...

towards the Calvary.

You were the one
she liked the most.

I tried to restrain
that obsession...

which seemed like insanity.

She liked to listen
to professor Heschel.

- He seemed to have a crush on her.
- And she on you, no?

She was really my friend,
and she looked after me.

She bailed me out of prison twice
when I started using drugs again.

Are you still doing it?

No. She talked me out of it.

I saw her more like a mother.

It was like a transference.

Our mother will always
be our mother.

Well, Luciano, don't be a stranger.
I have to go.

Your friend Luciano
wants to be a bachelor?

He was in love with a girl
called Camila...

and it seemed they
loved each other...

but she married a friend of him
who was very rich.

At the same time,
he had an affair with a woman...

who ran a brothel with him...

and she became the lover
of Camila's husband...

who died when this brothel
was on fire.

The mistress ran off to Spain...

Luciano was arrested to save
Camila, I suppose...

and Camila married a lawyer who
looked a lot like him, the Blue Bull.

After that, Luciano lost
all trust in women.

And since it 's not hard for him
to find girls...

he enjoys this single living.

And you were lucky. You have
won this little drunkard's heart.

Bahia said that Alfreda,
when she woke from the coma...

told him she had seen
a light at the end of a tunnel.

They say it 's the vision of those who
survive this moment "in extremis":

A light at the end of a tunnel.

Yes, we always hear that.

You know, Filipe, I was thinking
about that and I had this idea:

That this is the return
of the remote vision...

that 's in the baby's subconscious
when he leaves the mother's womb.

That light at the end of the tunnel
would be the return...

...to the baby's forgotten memory.
- That 's not absurd. No, sir.

But who can guarantee us that is so?

They say you are born
with your eyes closed.

That 's also true.

That 's the principle of uncertainty.

Some psychiatrists say
it 's more traumatic...

to be born than to die.

Whatever it is, the only
certainty you have is death.

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