All language subtitles for The.Lickerish.Quartet.1970.1080p.BluRay.x264.DD2.0-FGT

Dear Mother...

After a few days rest in Lisbon,
I return to Madrid.

I'm happy and was proud

seeing our flag fluttering
over the Azores Islands

after our Armada's
glorious victory

over France's mercenaries.

Our victory was almost
as pleasant as sharing the loot.

I had never seen such wealth

and generosity amongst soldiers.

I return with my pockets full
and in good disposition.

With my savings, you might
get to live as you deserve.

I promised you that as a boy

and I've never forgotten.

Mother, I pray for your health

and for your prompt recovery.

God bless you.

Love, your son,
Lope.

MADRID
END OF THE 16th CENTURY

Lope de Vega,
you son of a bitch!

What is it?

The poem you wrote
for my wife.

Didn't you like it?

Sorry, but I can't
give your money back.

Why do you mention
her birthmark?

What birthmark?

The birthmark on her back.

Women like it when
we remember these things.

But how do you know
she has one?

All women have one
on their back.

And her skin? Her hair?

And her panting when...

I feel like I'm with her
every time they read it to me.

Are you sure
you don't know my wife?

How would I know her?

I just pictured her
as you described.

You're fiendish, Lope.

Just in case...

Take it to the Marquis.

Nice horse!

How much did your master
pay for it?

Lope!

Nice seeing you.

You look great. No one would say
you were in a war.

I was and I don't intend
to go back.

Nothing justifies
what I saw there.

Have you seen your mother?

I can't see her with these clothes.

Should I cry or worry?

You have access to
the Marquis' dressing room.

Now I'm worried.

Lope! Lope!

Lope!

Lope, my son!

Finally!

Thank you.

Lope.

Brother.

You didn't exaggerate
in your letters.

I can't complain.

I'm so glad to see
you two together again.

God knows I've prayed for this.

You must have
a lot to tell me.

I'm referring to sins.

Here. We have
a lot of work to do.

Your mother has spent
many hours with patients.

I pray for her recovery.

What will you do
with your life now?

I know what I don't want.

But neither what I do want
nor where.

Have you considered
a religious life?

Your restlessness might be
a sign from God.

Salcedo succeeded
at the theater.

Now he works under
Jeronimo Velazquez,

a plasterer who spends part
of his earnings on the theater.

Development, that's
where money lies.

Watch it!

I'm sorry. Please accept
my apologies.

Lope!

Lope de Vega?

How's your mother?

Don't you know who I am?

Isabel.

Isabel?

You wouldn't remember.

Of course I do.

Isabel de Urbina.

I hadn't recognized you.

How was the Armada?

Your mother read me
some of your letters.

She thinks
you'll become an Admiral.

Mother has high hopes
for me.

I'm done with the Army.

I don't intend
to leave Madrid again.

I'm glad.

This is not a place
to socialize.

I'm off to the pharmacy.

I hadn't seen her in years.

What is she doing here?

Driving her family crazy.

Her father
wants her married soonest.

Friar Bernardo!
Friar Bernardo...

How will you pay for the funeral?
With your nails?

I don't know yet.

But our mother deserves
the funeral of a lady.

What will they say
if we bury her as...

As what?
As what we are?

We are what people
think we are.

You're such a dreamer.

You're old enough
to come down to earth.

It's here.

Are you sure
you want to go in?

I need money.

I'm touched by
your noble cause

but I need guarantees.

Only pirates sign deals
like that.

That's why
they never break'em.

You have nice ears.

Take good care of them.
We get one pair in life.

Whose crest is that?

Ours.

Our mother's family's,
the Carpios.

Mother never had one.

She does now.

Here.

Thank your actors.

I almost believed you were
our relatives from Cantabria.

Lady, if you're not buying,
just leave it!

I can't help it. I hate seeing
people touching her belongings.

We're selling everything
on account of the funeral.

It's father's quill.

Do you mind if I keep it?

Do as you please.

Come with me to Lisbon.

I don't want to
go back to war.

I need to breathe
the Court's air.

Women here look even prettier.

You're just like our father.

I feel sorry for
whoever falls for you.

When are you leaving?

Next week.

I'll miss you.

Think about it.

You could join
my Battalion in Lisbon.

What do you say, brother?

Wait here.

I have to deliver
a message from the Marquis.

...as silence precedes thunder

with calm skies
and soft clouds.

The wind changes
and the storm breaks.

Make yourself useful. Take
those swords to the stage.

Most of all the end!

Lope... Lope!

I was worried.

You've been here for two days
without eating.

I didn't have time.

I have to finish this comedy
and take it to Velazquez.

Maria, you have no idea how
it feels to be backstage.

Eat... you fool.

Wait here.

Mr. Velazquez
cannot see you.

You may leave your comedies.

And you?

Tell your master Don Felix Lope
de Vega y Carpio wants to see him.

Did you hear me?

Mr. Jeronimo
won't see anyone.

I heard you perfectly well.
I'll wait.

Sir, Mr. Velazquez's orders

- were clear.
- Tell him Don Lope de Vega

- has a new comedy...
- Listen,

Don Lope de Fucking-Vega.

You can either go nicely
or the hard way.

You will have
to throw me out.

Roque!
Amezcua!

What is it?
Who are you?

Milady, excuse me.
I'm Lope de Vega.

- I have a comedy for...
- Don't waste your time.

He doesn't read comedies
he hasn't commissioned.

- Milady, I beg...
- Throw him out!

Who do you think you are,
you arrogant hen?

Elena Osorio,
the daughter of Velazquez,

the rooster here!

Get out!

Eyes of such grace
and beauty

that would make the sun envious
and color the sky

and if sapphires
are naturally frosty

how come they ignite
with your chaste light?

Wait.

Why does such modest demeanor
by a veil of coyness adorned

elicit a desire that defeats
what platonic love seeks?

Look without fear,
treacherous eyes

your venomous look has kept
away many a fearful.

You kill of love

yet know not love

full of venom and
more tyrannical than Nero

for you burn the world.

Wait here.

Every man in this Court thinks
he can write comedies.

You can read it or not

but you'll be sorry if you don't.

Please read ten pages,
that's all.

All right.

Someone I trust
assures me of your talent.

I'll give you an opportunity.

Why don't you copy
this comedy?

You will make some money although

by your attire,
you hardly need any.

And you'll learn the techniques.

Nothing like studying
other people's work to learn.

Milady, how can I thank you?

Just appreciate the favor
my father granted you.

But he hired me
as a copyist.

Be patient.
He likes people to beg.

It won't work.

- But the changes do.
- Salcedo,

don't tell me
how things work in theater.

Is that clear?
Rehearsal is over. Enough.

I said rehearsal is over.

What are you looking at?

How dare you?

I hired you to copy this comedy
not to change it!

Who do you think you are?

- I just...
- You were to copy it!

Read my changes...

I alone make changes.

- Is that clear?
- I wanted to bring life to it.

Who are you to correct a master?
Just leave!

I beg you to read
the new scenes.

It's not just the scenes.
It's everything!

You want to change
the settings

to dress up characters
as true legionnaires.

Passion...

and two actors
suffice for a play.

But Lope

wants swords, armors, spears...
You want...

Rome, don't you?

Excuse me.

Where are you going?
What is this?!

I want comedies
to be more lifelike,

with characters more like us,

suffering and laughing.

How can you have
women telling jokes

halfway through a tragedy?

Don Jeronimo,

in real life, laughter
and tears go together.

Yes, but...

Let the actors
read it out loud once.

If you don't like it...

Our comedies have been
criticized lately.

Salcedo, you know
it's Porres' men.

No, they have
also been criticized.

Audiences are tired
of the same old thing.

Here's a chance to offer them

something new.

Can't you see this goes
against theater rules?

What rules? Times change.

Why obstruct one's imagination?

That's all nonsense.

Audiences wouldn't understand,

and such are the rules.
Especially

because
this comedy belongs to me.

It's mine.

Please, Don Jeronimo,

give him a chance.

All right.

I'll read it carefully
and try to make sense of it.

But it's the last time
you take liberties

with one of my poets.

Yes, sir.

So, gentlemen,

go on.

Texts!

Are you happy now, poet?

Happy?

He was about to throw me out.

Hardly.

You impressed him.

Thank you.

Filis contemplated alone,
at midnight

a candle whilst she worked
under its flame

for a white moth
flirted around it.

She took it in her fair hands
and said with envy:

What attracts your eyes,

seduced by this light?

Your mouth, your kisses,
relishing with delight?

Come watch the new comedy by...

Don Jeronimo Velazquez's
company:

The Siege of Numantia,

by poet Miguel Cervantes
y Saavedra.

Ladies and gentlemen...

Lope!

- Yov m4d3 1t!
- Only t0 w1sh y0v lvck.

The Marquis needs me.

It's high time you returned
his clothes.

Isabel? I'm glad
to see you.

I'd never miss the debut
of your first play.

Mine? I just mended it.

For a mender,
you are quite popular.

Don't trust all people say.

If I had, I'd never see you again.

Good luck.

Raise your front, Romans.

You've heard of the unique bravery
of Numantia's men and women.

Never has the Earth
seen such a feat.

Children of forthcoming centuries
will drink to its bravery

and will turn Spain
into a strong nation

that will conquer
the world one day!

Aren't you celebrating?

That's for your father
and the cast.

They won't miss me.

How about you?

I told them I'm unwell.

Women can say that
with no further questions.

But why did you?

Because I missed you.

Be patient, Lope.

It's too soon for Madrid
to discover your talent.

I could never have dreamed
of such an end.

Who said this is the end?

Unfasten me.

Take me.

Sweet Filis,
if you wait for me,

I beg you to change

for it's too much of a tease,
for, in fact, too little.

If you trust my love,
soothe its flames

and if you belittle my fire,

do not feed it with favors.

It's not right for you
to ignite me

without a favor
once in a while

for it's too much of a tease,
for, in fact,

too little.

Finally!
Where were you?

The bookseller's house
is far and I was loaded.

- Has anyone seen you?
- No.

Or we'd be in trouble.

"Metamorphosis!"

Why won't they
let me read it?

It must be heresy.

Here's something else.

What is it?

Poems by your friend Lope.

They began to print them.

Save it. They sell out fast.

"To Filis..."

Who's Filis?

Young Lope-y!

Some say you'll
revolutionize Drama.

Mr. Jeronimo Velazquez
wastes his money.

Who are you to mix
tragedy and comedy?

They're envious.

Excuse me.
Mr. Lope de Vega?

Yes, and you are
Don Gaspar de Porres.

I've heard about how you've
revised Cervantes' comedy.

Cast members say
it's quite original.

Actors tend to exaggerate.

It seems you have
ideas of your own.

Have you written
any comedies?

Yes, a few.

May I read one?

I might be interested
in producing it.

Thank you, but I have
a deal with Mr. Velazquez

and I won't betray his trust.

You're an honorable man.

Let me know
if that changes some day.

Gentlemen...

Why did you say that?

Velazquez makes
you work as a copyist

and doesn't pay you enough.

He'll hear about this

and, hopefully,
he will change his mind.

Stop!

All right.

Take whatever you want.

Come on. You know
why we're here.

- But I...
- We're here on Calero's behalf

and we can't leave
empty-handed.

If you don't have any money,
one of your ears will do.

Wait.

Wait a minute.

This is just a first payment.

Take it to Calero
with my respects.

A magnificent weapon,
there's no other like it.

Powder guns have no future.

I was looking forward
to meeting you, Lope.

Claudio speaks highly
of your talent.

He's my friend,
he exaggerates.

I've heard
you were a soldier.

Try it.

I favor swords.

And verses. Everyone
recites them.

Go on. Shoot.

I told you I favored swords.

Has Claudio told you
what I need?

Poems to win over
a hesitant lady's heart.

Exactly.

God has granted me
no talent for poetry.

Only money to buy
someone else's.

To talent!

And a long association.

In this empty lot,
we will build our new theater.

The largest in Madrid.

Look at the blueprints.

All finishings

in oak wood.

Have you read my work yet?

It's powerful, vibrant but far
from ready

to be staged.

Tell me what
I should rewrite.

It's all too fast,

too many changes.

Audiences can't follow
so many changes.

We must proceed slowly.

Someone else might want
to produce my comedies.

Do you recognize
this document?

Here's my offer:

I'll pay up your debt.

In return, you'll write
for me only.

When you've delivered
five plays,

I deem worthy,
we'll be even.

I don't think so.

God be with you.

You should take this back
to its owner.

The Marquis wouldn't
want to see his jewelry

passed around like that.

Again?

Are you insane?

You're here to assist us,
not for fun.

He's teaching me
self-defense.

They're not mutually excludent.

I agree.

Her father should agree
not you.

Back to work.

Great class, Lope.

What were you thinking?
Here of all places?

Or were you celebrating
the play's success?

You had a big part in it.

Tell Velazquez.

He won't produce my plays.

I gave him three already,
with no feedback.

And I should talk to him?
Forget it.

His daughter is the only one
he listens to.

Speaking of her...

Kneel down for confession.

Here?

A place as good as any
for God's forgiveness.

Kneel down.

Her husband has been
overseas for three years,

that's why you
haven't met him.

I'm warning you.

If her father finds out
you will be in serious trouble.

He's tried to match her
with powerful rich men

but she has turned them
all down.

He won't accept a poor poet
winning her heart.

Is there anything else?

No.

Well, then.

As penance,

you'll assist us here, Tuesdays
and Thursdays, from 6am to 3pm.

What's wrong?

Why didn't you tell me
you're married?

You knew I'd find out.

Wait! Wait!

I thought you already knew.

So what?

Will I have to share you
with him?

Please, please...

Forget that, please.
My husband isn't here.

Only the two of us.
Enjoy the present.

It's fleeting.

Indeed. Next thing I know,
your husband's back.

Then what?

We'll hide for the rest
of our lives?

Who knows how long
it will last?

Forget my husband.

I suppose you don't care
to know

that my father's producing
one of your comedies.

My tears, my verses,
my sighs

against oblivion and time
will be safe.

Against oblivion and time...

I thought we were invited.

Don't get confused.

We're in a different league.
We're the audience.

...rise to the splendid sky
where...

where the purest spirits lie.

If he can't learn it,
he'll embarrass me.

It's like throwing
pearls to pigs.

Isabel?

The quill and the tongue,
answering in unison

long to rise to
the splendid sky

where the purest spirits lie.

Among such richness
and treasures

my tears, my verses,
my sighs

against oblivion and time

will be safe.

Good morning.

I mean, good afternoon,
everyone.

Hi, Ramon.

Hello.

- You look better.
- Thank you.

Maybe her visit helps.

It's the poet!

What are you doing here?

Penance for my sins.

Though now penance
looks more like a reward.

You're never short
of pleasantries.

I saw you at the Marquis'
party yesterday.

You didn't greet me.

I wasn't among
the main guests.

What were you doing
among feathers?

The Marquis is
a friend of my family.

He seemed smitten with you.

He is very pleasant.

And powerful.

So I've heard. I don't know.

Good God!

- Can I please eat?
- I'm sorry, Ramon.

He's set your pulse racing.

Excuse me.

Would you let me finish?

Isabel...

from the arrival
of the rosy dawn

until old Atlas hides the day

my eyes cry out,
as profusely as

the bright sun that gilds
the mountains.

And from the moment
the cold night

lazily emerges from chaos

until it returns again to Venus

I cry over your sternness,
Milady.

It's beautiful.

It must have cost you
a fortune.

I'm glad you like it.

The Marquis is
a generous funder.

He's truly in love.

Do you think she will give in?

I hope not.
Or he'll be done with me.

Once he wins her over,
there'll be no more verses.

That's how men are.

Gifts and verses until
you get what you want.

- Then...
- Not me.

I've filled Madrid
with verses dedicated to you.

Love is so surprising,
since I met you...

I can't stay away.

I gave you my soul, now
I'm a prisoner of my body.

Everyone recites them,

though they ignore
who I wrote them for.

Is she beautiful?

- Who?
- The maiden. Is she beautiful?

Yes, she is.

I bet. To inspire such verses.

They are signed by the Marquis.
He pays, I write them.

So you write things
you don't feel?

When I write for the Portuguese,
I feel what he does.

You have an answer to everything.

Mr. Tomas de Perrenot,
you honor us with your presence.

Isabel!

Isabel!

This is Isabel de Urbina.

I've been hoping
to win her hand.

The Marquis' taste is as exquisite

in choosing his bride-to-be.

Lope!

Lope! Come here!

Lope, this is
Don Tomas de Perrenot.

Lope de Vega.

The Marquis has nothing
but praise for you.

Says you're
the best poet in Spain.

The Marquis is too kind.

His poems are recited
everywhere.

I'd be so honored.

You might get him
to reveal who Filis is.

She must be flattered.

Milady Isabel cannot
complain either.

You've written her
beautiful poems.

I've just recently written a few.

Go on.

The Marquis will recite
a few verses!

From the arrival
of the rosy dawn

until old Atlas hides the day

my eyes cry out,
as profusely as

the bright sun that gilds
the mountains.

And from the moment

the cold night
lazily emerges from chaos

until it returns again to Venus

I cry over your sternness,
Milady.

So neither the night
comes to my rescue

nor can the day
soothe or amuse me

and I'm in the middle
of such extremes.

My life flies

time races by

and while my faith
in you is intact

in silence,
beams shine so switfly.

How did you like it?

Lovely.

I wrote that one last night.

It's fresh from the oven.

And you, Mr. Lope?

Don't you have
any verses for us?

I wouldn't dare, Milady,
that's the Marquis' honor.

Don't make us beg.

How about a sonnet?

You're showing him up.

This is as hard for him
as for anyone else.

We, poets, want to make it
look like divine inspiration.

Milady wants a sonnet?

Would you like a sonnet now?

Yes.

Never in my life
have I faced such a fix

14 lines make up a sonnet

with tongue in cheek,
I have spun 3.

I never thought
I'd even make sense

now I'm halfway
of another quatrain.

But if I see myself
in the first tercet

nothing in the quatrains
will stop me.

Now I'm in the first tercet

and, apparently,
on the right foot.

And with this verse,
I end it.

Now in the second, I suspect

13 verses I've completed.

Count if there are 14,
and there you have it.

You're an ingenious man.

You almost have fooled us.

What do you mean?

It's obvious you had memorized
poems beforehand.

You're calling me a fraud?

Don't take offense.

I just want to warn the lady

of your dishonest tricks.

Mr. Perrenot..., I

Rroceed to refute every word
Ensuring here my defense.

Rebutting these allegations

Reclaiming my own talent

Easily perceived in my verses

Notwithstanding being on the spot

Or perhaps not fast enough.

Take the first letter
of each line.

Now tell me if I had it memorized.

Excuse me.

I want audiences to feel
they're in the New World.

I need a bigger stage.

I can talk to the carpenters

but Velazquez won't pay for it.

And I want Indians,

real Indians from Seville.

For the sake of realism.

Real Indians! Are you crazy?

Use painted men.
This is Drama, not real life!

Elena, Don Tomas, this way.

Salcedo!

Company!

Lope!

Don Tomas,

I'd like
to introduce you to

Lope de Vega,
a talented young poet.

Lope, Your Lordship
Don Tomas Perrenot.

We've met. He's shown me
his poetic verve.

You must be a threat
to the company's actresses.

Friar Bernardo.

You, too, have met.

Don Tomas has been generous
to our charity.

Will you excuse me?
I have to direct the actors.

Let me show you
our new facilities.

It's for you.

Just a moment.

I know everything.
Now I know who I should love.

I need to see you.

Isabel.

Not like this.

Not like this.

Excellent! Amazing!

This comedy
is filled with new ideas

of unknown feelings from life,

from a life unknown to me,
yet life, nonetheless.

He's a talented young man.

He could become the greatest.

Listen to the opening
of this scene.

Try it. It's from the mountains.

Are you worried?

Are you?

Me?

No, why?

Perhaps the letter
you received yesterday.

That letter...

It was Navas'.

Right.

Does the Marquis send petals
in his letters?

It was from her, wasn't it?
Isabel de Urbina.

Is she in love with you?

Women are not stupid.

She knows those verses
are not Navas'.

She fell in love with the verses,
hence with you.

What are you saying?

It's not your fault.

You fell under the spell
of your own words

and fantasy became reality.

You fell for your verses.

But you must
come down to earth.

You'll never have her.

She'll soon marry the Marquis,
thanks to you.

Stop dreaming.

- We can be happy.
- How?

Hiding from everyone?

Let's elope.

Let's go to France, Italy, America!

If you loved me,
you wouldn't ask me that.

You only think of yourself.

How can we leave
everything?

That's not what life is about.
We can carry on.

Any children we had
wouldn't carry my name,

your father brings lovers
into your bed.

How dare you talk
about my father

after all he's done for you?

He's producing your comedy.

Be glad for what you have.

You can't have it all.

But I want it all!

Don't wish for what
you can't have.

The present is all we have.

So I won't waste
another minute.

Where are you going?

Mr. Velazquez is unavailable.

- He will see me.
- Leave him!

Let him in.

I hope this intrusion
is justifiable.

It is.

I'm here to terminate
our work relationship.

You signed this document.

Yes, it's my signature.

You agreed to hand me
five comedies

suitable to be staged.

What do you want?

I'm slaving,
trying to make a living

writing one play
after another!

So it's a matter of money.

- Let's talk money.
- It's not money!

That's not why you're here?

So what do you want
to talk about?

Dignity and freedom.

You laugh at me,
mock my words.

You're a procurer
who respects no one!

What would you expect

from one who sells his own
daughter to the highest bidder?

But she's no whore.

She chooses whose bed
she'll hop in.

- Our partnership is over.
- Absolutely not.

We will keep rehearsing.
Do you know why?

People want to see
a comedy by Lope

and business always comes first.

You will go on writing for me

until you fulfill your commitment.

And don't even think about
coming back here

or getting close to my daughter
ever again.

That's for her to decide.

What have you done?

What have you done?

You turned me into a whore.

What does it matter his opinion?

He knows everything.

We can live
wherever we choose.

Elena,

you heard him.
Go and live with him.

Go and live with
this miserable poet!

Is that what you want?

Tell him!

Tell him that's
what you want.

Go away.

I don't ever want
to see you again.

- Elena...
- Out!

Enough's been said. Get out!

Before I throw you out myself.

Elena...

go freshen up.

We are expecting
Don Tomas Perrenot.

I'm not the one
who turns you into a whore.

He does.

Thank you.

A LADY

THOUGH
SHE WON'T CONFESS IT

IS FOR SALE

What did I do wrong?

You're being unfair, father.

What did I do wrong?

How was I disrespectful?

How can you be
so unreasonable?

You humiliated
the Marquis of Navas

and compromised your honor

with this silly comedy writer
who's fooled you.

I have done nothing wrong,

nothing I wouldn't do
in your presence.

I know.

But things are not always
as they really are

but as people think they are.

I have to decide
what to do with you.

Don't leave your room.

You son of a bitch! And I loved
your mother as my own.

You had to do it!

Isabel de Urbina
turned down the Marquis.

She says she's in love with you.
Navas is after you.

I know Urbina, he'll send Isabel
to a convent.

There's nothing else
to be done.

What have you done?

- Where is she?
- She won't see you.

She knows about you and Elena.

- How did she find out?
- What do you think?

Elena told her herself.

She doesn't think too highly
of you right now.

You picked the worst enemies:

Velazquez, Navas and Perrenot.

Be careful.

The Conquest of the New World
by poet Felix Lope de Vega y Carpio.

Come to watch
the great new comedy...

It's show time.

Right, sir.

I beg your silence

for some 3-odd hours.

Listen if you're discreet...

if you're stupid, be quiet.

Astonishing!

Finally, the land of my dreams.

Father, pass me the Cross.

It will be the beacon that will
brighten up the New World.

We'll place it right here.

- Kneel down!
- Here, on the sand?

How about in the woods?

Bartolome,

for God's sake!

Imagine you understand them.

Remember this is the year 1492.

The two worlds

do not share
even the same alphabet.

Only then will you truly
experience this moment.

Who are you?

Such handsome men.

Where is Lope?
I haven't seen him.

Shush! Focus on the play.

For Castilla and Leon,

Columbus discovered
the New World!

His honor is ours.

Let's baptize

the first vassals Columbus brought

in a great feat he attained

praised from Castilla and Leon

to the far corners of Spain!

And thus ends the story

of the conquest
of the New World.

It's Lope!

It's Lope!

Allow me to read some verses

I dedicate to
Don Jeronimo Velazquez

and his honored daughter,

Elena de Osorio.

And Mr. Perrenot,

his partner
in such honorable business.

There's a lady for sale...

Make your bids,
if you'd like to buy her.

The seller is her own father,

though he won't confess it.

He wants 30 ducats

and a cut of taffeta
or pure silk.

Throw him out.

Throw him out!
Out!

Bailiff, arrest that man!

Out!

- Are you crazy?
- Leave me, Salcedo.

Are you crazy, Lope?

You've gone mad.

Venancia!

Give me one minute,
then call anyone.

Enough of nice words.

Fooling is your business.

I never fooled you.
Believe me.

If you don't believe me,
scream.

And if I don't?

I'll know you forgave me.

You won't ever see me again.

But first promise me
you will marry the Marquis.

Don't ruin your life.

Now I should scream

and have them kill you
like a dog!

This is not you.

Or is it?

What are you doing?

Getting dressed.
I'm coming with you.

I'm going to Lisbon
to join the Armada.

I'll get to see the ocean.

Are you crazy?

Only whores go aboard.

I'II... be your whore.

That's all I needed.
Do you know what can happen?

Lope...

you opened your cage
and mine, too.

Now you want to fly away

and leave me here?

You can't be that cruel.

I know you better
than yourself.

You came here for me.

There's no more food left.

We'll get there tomorrow.

It's not much longer now.

What will we eat?

I don't know.

Pardon me.

Where's Juan de Vega?

He's... at the recruiting desk.

Juan!

Juan de Vega!

Isabel?

What have you done?

- What do you mean?
- You don't know?

- I've had problems.
- Problems?

The Marquis of Navas,
the magistrate Urbina,

Tomas de Perrenot and his
uncle, Cardinal Granvela

accuse you of disrespecting
a reputable family

and of kidnapping a maiden.

There is a warrant
for your arrest.

I'm sorry I got you
into this fix.

You're the one in a fix.

Perrenot is in town.

Your only option is
to board a ship.

Once aboard,
your crimes don't count.

That's what I had in mind.

And I'll ask the King's pardon,
when I return.

If you return.

I did once.

Your boat will be ready by dawn.

Don't let anyone see you.

Lope...

Do you know
what might befall me?

I know, brother. I certainly do.

We have to go.

Already?

It's almost sunrise.

You didn't sleep.

You wrote all night?

It's my best work ever.

Sorry it's all I can give you.

But whatever happens...

What?

You're out of words...

Lope!

Lope de Vega! What are you doing
here, you darn poet?

Sorry, I'm in a rush.

It's Lope!

The finest Spanish poet.

Once aboard,
they can't touch you.

I owe you one.

- And Isabel?
- I'm going with him.

No. Take care of her, Juan.

Don't leave me here, Lope.

Have you seen the women
on these ships?

Yes, I have.

- Please, Lope.
- I'm sorry.

- I won't allow it.
- I have to.

No, Isabel!

Wait for me.
I promise I'll come back.

I love you.

Here. Take it to Porres.

He'll give you 500 for it.
It's good work.

Lope, hurry up!

Promise you'll be back!

Come on!

Let's go! Come on!

Promise you'll be back!

Promise me...

Stop!

Your sword.

Lope de Vega,

we have a warrant
for your arrest.

It's up to you, Lope.

Turn yourself in,
or your brother will pay.

Lope de Vega...

What am I accused of?

One count of libel against
Mr. Jeronimo Velazquez

and his daughter.

And the kidnapping
and rape of Isabel de Urbina.

I won't let you
insult my husband.

Don Lope is my husband
before God.

He promised to marry me
with this ring.

Stop the wagon.

Stop the wagon.

Stop the wagon!

My Lord, I thought I'd never
see you again.

Friar Bernardo.

Let me have some. God bless you.

Easy...

How can you
treat him like that?

He's no animal, no murderer.

He's the poet Lope de Vega!

While you were gone, Salcedo
produced your comedies

and people are crazy
about them.

Let's move on!

You have to be strong.

Come on!

We'll get you out.

I promise.

Who are you?

Say something or
I'll presume it's Death

that's here to take
my measurements.

It is Death indeed.

Why are you here?
To behold my misery?

So look and enjoy.

It may well be your last chance.

I'm facing penalty in the galleys

and few men come back.

It's not my fault.
You asked for it.

I loved you.
We could have been happy.

As what?

A slave to your father
and your secret lover?

I'm not free like you.
Can't you see?

You've made your choice.

I've always loved you.

I'm sorry, but you were
unfair to me.

You stabbed me
with your words.

You have no idea
of how I felt.

You know how I felt?
Did you put yourself in my shoes?

Do you know
how I've been living?

I said, no visitors allowed.

Just give him this.

If it's for writing,
you know he can't...

I can't.

Please.

Would you give this to him?

If he can't write,
he'll lose his mind.

Please.

The accused didn't treat
the Velazquez family properly.

But is it fair for
a moment of weakness,

an act of sorrow and despair,

to sentence the poet who's admired
by the whole of Madrid?

Scarcely, Your Honor.

I beg for your mercy

and ask for the accused

a proportional sentence
to the offence.

Three months labor

at the San Gines Hospital.

I pass the floor
to the prosecution.

In view of the records,

the aggravating circumstances
and the evidence shown,

I plead for the maximum penalty

as an example and warning

for anyone who might consider

vilifying an honorable family.

As well as offending
the honored vassals

of Our Catholic Majesty.

Therefore,

I plead for

a sentence of five years
of imprisonment

to be served in the galleys.

I have carefully heard
both parties.

It undoubtedly is
a serious crime

that goes against

what is
most sacred to us all:

One's honor.

I'll now retire and deliberate.

I shall announce my decision
this afternoon.

You may come in.

Excuse me, Your Honor.

Can you spare me a few minutes?

What is this about?

After grave consideration,

taking into account
the case presented here,

I declare the accused,

Felix Lope de Vega y Carpio,

guilty on all counts.

I therefore sentence him
to eight years...

Silence or I'll have
the Court evacuated!

I sentence the accused

to eight years of penal exile,

in which, he shall not
return to this town

with a two years minimum

banishment from
the Kingdom of Castilla.

Any violation of these terms

will result in the death penalty.

Silence! I'll evacuate the room!

To swoon, to dare, to be furious

coarse, gentle, liberal,

elusive,

cheerful, mortal,

dead, alive,

loyal, a traitor,
a coward, courageous.

To not stray from righteousness

to look happy, sad, humble,

proud,

fierce, valiant,

fugitive,

satisfied, offended, suspicious.

To turn away to
obvious disillusion

to drink poison as fine liquor

forget the gain, love the pain

to believe Heaven
fits into Hell

to give one's life heart and soul

to disillusion...

That's love.

And who's tasted it,
knows it.

Lope de Vega,

called by El Quijote's author,
"Monster of Nature"

wrote over 4,000 poems,
and 800 plays

being the most prolific
author of all time.

He fathered 14 children
and died at the age of 73.

English Version:
Monika Pecegueiro do Amaral