All language subtitles for El.ministerio.del.tiempo.S03E04.1080p.BluRay.FLAC2.0.x264-SbR_track6_[eng]

Bécquer? Bécquer?

-You're not a writer, are you?
-I've never been recognized before.

Bécquer's girl time travels.

Your missions is to find Mencía.

15 years ago the residents
killed a woman.

She's spent too long roaming our woods.
Let's throw her out, forever.

-I'm Lola Mendieta.
-Do you think she'll change?

One can always change.

Don't accuse me of pre-judging Lola,
it's more like "post-judging".

-Are you alright?
-Isn't a good place for a weak stomach.

-I instruct Lola as a Ministry agent.
-Exactly.

I am Juana! I want an answer.

You'll be thirsty. Drink.

Juana has given birth. It's a boy.

-The boys are killed.
-That's why there are only girls.

You lied to Ernest to gain access
to the Ministry files?

-The boy is mine.
-Yes, he is. Wait, don't go!

-But I'm not a traitor.
-Will you be?

That's the million-dollar question.

They came to lynch her.

Her brother Alonso was with them
and seemed the most bloodthirsty.

-Hail Satan!
-I deliver myself to you!

Hail Satan!

I screwed up.
It should've been with water.

I boiled it because
I have a bad stomach.

The analyses show a large amount
of mandrake in the blood.

You hate me and you don't know me.

THE PRADO MUSEUM

"The Nude Maja".

She's not a Venus
or a mythological figure.

She's a flesh-and-blood woman.

In fact, it's said to be
the first work of art

to show female pubic hair.

This caused trouble for Goya,
who was tried by the Inquisition.

Admire this beauty,
so far ahead of its time.

I'm running out of time.
Let's go to the next room.

Shit!

Shit!

THE MINISTRY OF TIME

EPISODE 25
TIME OF THE ENLIGHTENED

Shit... Good night.

José Carlos, the fuses.

Hello?

What are you doing here?

I missed you.

-Fucking hell!
-Pacino, relax.

-Fuck!
-My God.

-Weren't you sleeping with Elena?
-With Elena?

-Yes.
-Yes. Yes, yes.

I was sleeping with Elena,
at least I thought so...

-What's wrong?
-I don't know.

That's the problem, I don't know.

Pacino, I...

I wanted to apologize for
what happened on our last mission.

-It's unforgiveable.
-You were drugged.

You didn't know what
you were doing. It's alright.

Damn.

-Coffee?
-Yes.

There's something I don't get.
Why should I know this harlot?

-Because you're right near the Prado.
-Thanks, Angustias.

-Her boobs are fake.
-Yeah, right.

I've always thought
they weren't hers.

-Women have operations...?
-These days?

-You can get anything done.
-Does that matter?

-Pure silicone.
-Angustias, have you nothing to do?

Ernesto, please.

The famous Goya painting,
"The Nude Maja", has been destroyed.

God. And Museum security?

It wasn't in the Museum
or in the present.

We're told that Francisco de Goya
was attacked in his studio in 1799.

They left him unconscious
and slashed the painting.

And the painting suddenly
appeared like this in the Prado.

-Any suspects?
-The Inquisition.

But it's only a suspicion.

The painting caused controversy and the
Inquisition confiscated it as obscene,

but not until 1814.

The Inquisition was around
at that time?

Yes, the Cádiz Cortes
abolished it in 1812,

but it didn't come into effect
until Isabel II, in 1834.

Some would like it to come back today.

The Ministry of that period
has found out nothing?

Manuel Godoy was the King's
confidant at the time,

but his loyalty to Spain
was quite doubtful.

The Ministry feared confiding
the secret of the travels to him,

in case he sold it to the French.

They can't help us.
Be more discreet than ever.

Your mission is travel to 1799,

find out who did it and get Goya
to paint "La Maja" again.

But the painting was a secret.

It was unknown until years
after it was painted.

I told what your mission was,
not that it was easy.

How is it with young Mendieta?

-She's smart, she learns fast.
-I wouldn't trust her.

Who do we convince to pose?
The model was in doubt.

-Wasn't it the Duchess of Alba?
-It's one of the theories,

but there was also Pepita Tudó,
Godoy's lover.

It's a possibility. Follow me.

You'll keep your first names
but we've added last names.

-That's worth more than money.
-I doubt it.

Alonso and Pacino will be part
of the Malaspina naval expedition.

It's both scientific and political,

covering the domains of the Spanish
monarchy from 1790 to 1794.

Malaspina. I don't like that name.

You'll have to blend in
with the erudite and the nobles.

And your presence won't attract
attention in the most common places.

What about me? I assume there were
no women on the Malaspina,

so I'm the wife of...

Pacino.

You'll pass for a pair of art lovers.

You'll go to Goya with the excuse
of buying on of his "Caprichos".

He's selling them at his house
this very year.

You have the address, it's on Desengaño.
But you're not going today.

Then where are we going?

After the accident,
the Duchess of Osuna watches over him.

Today she'll be with Goya in Madrid's
foundling home. The orphanage.

What are you waiting for? Go!

-May I?
-I'm very busy. Give me five minutes.

I heard that Miss Folch's patrol
is going to meet Goya.

Alright...

What part of "five minutes"
did you not understand?

-Get to the point.
-Let me go with them.

-No.
-I need to meet the master.

Do you know how long
I've waited for something like this?

But wasn't your master Picasso?

Picasso and Goya are the two
greatest artists Spain has produced,

along with yours truly, of course.

We are the Holy Trinity of Spanish art.

-And you're God the Father.
-By age, I am.

Goya is a court painter.

I'm sure he knows my work
and my person well.

One more reason not to see him.

Goya just recognizing you
would give him a heart attack.

What times were those when art
was valued by kings and statesmen.

Don't you understand
that only a great painter

can best understand
another great painter?

Why are you looking at me like that?

Because quite unwittingly
you've given me an idea.

What? What idea?

MEADOW OF SAN ISIDRO, 1799

That way.

God blessed me
with strong, healthy hair.

What need is there for this monstrosity?

The erudite are fashionable,

and it's not a matter of need,
but social class, of image.

Pretty words, but I don't get it at all,

or the importance of saving a painting
of buck naked woman.

"Buck naked"! You're getting the slang
of the 20th, 21st century. Good, good.

They spoke like that
in "The Book of Good Love"

by the Archpriest of Hita.

Cervantes used that vulgarism too.

"Galley slaves too the greatcoat
from Sancho, leaving him buck naked".

It refers to some kind of underwear.

I thought it showed off
that he was a buck.

If you mean his testicles,
that was my era, the 19th.

Look. The Meadow of San Isidro,
just as Goya painted it.

No one admired Madrid like him.

Come in.

What did you want, boss?

-Memorable.
-Thanks, but it's the usual suit.

Wardrobe has less range
than a convent.

No, I don't mean your clothes.

I meant that in centuries,
it's the first time

you've knocked before coming in.

Go on, sit down.

This is...
I have a mission for you.

As long as I don't see
Napoleon again...

No. No.
You have to go see Velázquez.

-I don't know what's worse.
-It's what it is.

You have to watch him.

-What for?
-"What for?" So he's not distracted.

He's a great painter,
but the king of procrastination.

He's the greatest observer
of flies in flight. You have to...

...help him to paint a copy
of "The Nude Maja".

How do you know that?

You eavesdropped behind the door.

Just because I knocked doesn't
mean I'm not the same as usual.

Memorable.

Who could abandon their child
in a place like this?

What you can give him here,
as hard as it seems,

is better than at home.

Spain just got out
of the War of the Pyrenees

and is at war with Great Britain.

Not the best time for the royal coffers.

God bless public health.

A happy, positive country scene
to make the children smile.

I haven't made anyone smile
in a long time, madam.

It shouldn't be so hard
when you just did so for me.

-Don... Francisco de Goya?
-Speak up or he can't hear you.

-Don Francisco de Goya?
-At your service.

An illness caused him
some deafness years ago.

We wanted to speak to you. This is
my wife, Amelia Folch y Domenech.

This is my companion,
Alonso de Entrerríos Torres Carrasco.

And my name is Jesús Méndez
de Somavia y Pacino,

but Pacino is fine for me.

Nice to meet you.
Francisco de Goya y Lucientes.

What brings you here?

You see, Alonso and I were
on the Malaspina expedition

and my wife wanted to buy
one of your "Caprichos",

making the most of the trip.

I'm busy right now. The Duchess has
hired me paint a fresco for the home.

It's the least I can do for someone
who's been so generous to me.

With geniuses,
it'd be an error not to be.

I can't hear you.

With geniuses,
it'd be an error not to be.

Ladies, with your permission.

If you were on the Malaspina,
you must've seen endless marvels.

-Do not doubt it.
-I haven't introduced myself.

María Josefa Pimentel y Téllez-Girón,
Duchess of Osuna.

This is the Countess of Montijo,
María Isidra Quintana

and María Teresa del Toro Alayza.

Del Toro Alayza...
Do I know you?

You mistake me for someone.

We're on the Board of the Ladies
of Honor and Merit.

We collect some 1,500 children
per year, so we do what we can.

Well, I have all I need.

Then don't keep these people waiting.
It was a pleasure.

A pity we can converse no more.

That's easily solved.

Why not come this evening
to my palace of Capricho?

I'm having a small banquet
and I'd be a privilege if you came.

I'll introduce you
to the rest of the Board.

It'd be an honor.

We'll have some delicious chocolate.
I get it from Paris.

And the Duchess of Alba is coming.

I'm more and more convinced that
you hear what you want, Francisco.

Come in. Come in.

Here they are.

Look. Take all the time you need.

Look. This is the Duchess of Alba.

They say he's scolding
her fickleness after a heated row.

Meaning she brushed him off
and he got his revenge.

After all, art inspires all passions.

If they've fallen out,
it'll be hard to paint her again.

Supposing that's her in the painting.

Is that a donkey?

What happened to you?
Don Francisco!

-What happened to you?
-An accident, it's trivial.

My reflexes aren't
what they used to be.

Don Francisco, the door.
Don Francisco!

-The door!
-What?

-The door.
-Oh, the door. Coming!

Hello...

You're a hard man to see
these days, Don Francisco.

It's Manuel Godoy.

-The King's favorite.
-The King speaks through him.

Like a ventriloquist.

-How can I be of service, Don Manuel?
-You know very well.

I need to speak
to Don Francisco alone.

-Come back some other time.
-I suppose that's an order.

-Or you would've said "please".
-No matter.

We'll wait in the other room.
We have engravings to see.

I said, some other time. Now leave.
And yes, it's an order.

He may be the most powerful man
in Spain,

but he has piggish manners.

Power and good manners
are like oil and water.

We shouldn't have gone.
What if we miss major information?

We won't, I put in a microphone.
Let's lay low.

They destroyed it!

What do you mean?

-They slashed it, and with zeal.
-Who'd do something like this?

And no one knew
I commissioned this painting.

The Holy Office has eyes
and ears everywhere.

Especially if it's
Manuel Godoy's lover.

Not the Inquisition, impossible.
They would've arrested you.

-It's not the people?
-The people are busy enough

trying to get something to eat.

You see ghosts
where there are none, Manuel.

But this isn't Pepita.

It's her face,
but certainly not her body.

The face is hers.

I had to correct the body
and I used another model.

-I didn't wish to bother you.
-And who is this beauty?

What does that matter?

Because I shall ask her
to pose again.

-What a beauty.
-No, no. I won't do it.

-If you like, I'll return your money.
-I don't want my money.

-I want my painting.
-Then commission someone else.

-I'll never paint it again!
-Don't defy me, Francisco.

Court painter or not, don't do it.

You'll paint that work,
of suffer the consequences.

Cutpurse. Bastard.
Goddamn son of a bitch!

Miserable upstart!

-Do you realize?
-Yes, he's letting fly alright.

Not that. Both versions are true.

The other model must be
the Duchess of Alba.

-She was rumored to be with Goya.
-Some enlightenment.

-They never stopped!
-Yes.

Godoy wasn't just the lover
of Pepita Tudó, but the Queen too.

Did morality have not limits
in this period?

Let's go somewhere else.

Water, look out!

-God...
-You look out, bloody hell!

Why did he call Godoy a "cutpurse"?

That's how people
from Extremadura speak.

They think "cutpurse"
for "thief" came from here.

At least he left something
for posterity.

He left a lot of things.

Godoy founded the Society
of Cosmological Engineers,

Civil Engineers, the Deaf-Mute School,
the School of Medicine...

-The Astronomical Observatory...
-Did you miss anything?

He came from culture and science
and wanted Spain to be so.

-So, a dreamer.
-Let's get to the point.

We have to get the duchess
to pose for Goya again

-...and for him to paint her again.
-How? They don't seem to get on.

Well, when the duchess was widowed
she and Goya spent the summer

-...in Sanlúcar de Barrameda.
-Gee.

He painted her
in a lot of erotic poses.

-Something made them fall out.
-That's alright.

If plates are thrown,
there's still passion.

Pacino, this isn't the 21st century.
Relationships work differently here.

They must be similar, because I don't
understand the 20th or the 18th...

Some things don't change.

-Hello.
-No, don't come in!

How goes the portrait?

No much progress.
Is it so hard to make a copy?

-It's not about a copy, it's art.
-You're no Sunday painter.

Imitation is simple,
but replicating someone like this...

is impossible.

You have no choice.

The Prado can't keep the room closed
much longer without an explanation.

Art is the force that drives you
to create a work.

If I don't feel what Goya felt,
I'll never be able to paint it,

much less without a model.

Don't look at me. I'm more
of a Rubens model than a Goya.

I have to know
what's behind the painting,

the mind that painted it.

You don't need to go to university

to know that "two boobs
pull more than two wagons".

Don't be crude.

We're talking about a work of art
painted by a genius.

Geniuses and non-geniuses
have something in common,

they feel, fall in love...

-Have you never...?
-I was, very much so.

On my journey to Italy.

The happiest time of my life.

Until that emotion vanished,
never to return.

Love hurts.

-But forgetting it hurts more.
-I've forgotten it completely.

That's why I need to talk to Goya,
to understand him.

It'd be a minor trip,
there and back.

That would suffice.

This was just the summer residence.

The remainder they spent
in Benavente palace.

And public coffers
were in a bad way?

The worse the public purse,
the better the mighty live.

PALACE OF EL CAPRICHO, 1799

Thank you.

At least the Duchess gave
those children a better life.

-Others with more did less.
-Look, our friend Godoy.

-That's his wife?
-No, his lover, Pepita Tudó.

He took her, her mother and sisters
into his home and fell in love with her.

He liked them young.

But he holds his lover's hand in public?

How can he rule a country
when he runs his marriage like this?

I'll pay my respects to the Countess
of Osuna, you look for Alba.

-Fine.
-Are you sure I should do this?

Alonso, the Duchess liked
her men rough.

I'm more refined,
whatever wig you put on.

You must explain this "blind date"
thing, because I don't get it.

I will. Go on.

-Supposing I'm successful...
-Yes.

-How do we get Goya to meet with Alba?
-That's why it's called a blind date.

We arrange to meet Goya
at a time and place

to buy one of his "Caprichos",

but it'll be the Duchess herself
who'll be there.

Excuse me.

I believe we met this morning,
in the foundling home.

-Yes.
-Allow me to introduce

María Teresa de Silva
Álvarez y de Toledo.

-Delighted.
-The Duchess of Alba.

Delighted.
This is Alonso and I'm Pacino.

We'll leave the other names
for when we don't have to talk.

Both members
of the Malaspina expedition.

You must have hundreds
of wonderful tales to tell.

Thousands, thousands.

Alonso will be delighted
to regale you with them.

The afternoon is long, sirs.
There'll be time enough.

-Do you know what I feel like now?
-What?

Play blind man's bluff.

You can't do this to us.

I remind you
that we had the King's word

that we could occupy
the foundling home.

Milady, if anyone can change his mind
in this country, it's the King.

And I suppose you had nothing
to do with this change.

I speak to the King,
the King listens to me.

Those children will die by the dozen
unless the Board takes over the home.

Don't worry, the matter's easily solved.
Talk to Goya.

If he does what you ask,
you'll have your foundling home.

-Good afternoon.
-Good afternoon.

Let's go.

-What happened?
-Manuel Godoy, that's what.

-Pacino.
-What?

Is this a blind date?

Before it was more metaphorical,
now it's more literal.

-One thing.
-What?

I can't bear being blind.
I get frantic.

Take it calmly. Do you know
the stupid stuff I've done to get girls?

Besides, if the lady
wants to play bowls,

blind man's bluff or Sevens,
you play it.

It's the mission, okay?

With all this mincing, no wonder
the Empire went down the drain.

Attention!
We all know the rules, don't we?

-No, and I fear I should.
-Better than anyone.

For those who don't know,
we form a circle

and our new guest stands
in the middle,

blindfolded, and with this wooden spoon.

We make him spin

and he's try to touch someone
with the spoon.

If he succeeds, you switch places.
Understood?

Understood?

And now... spin!

Don't laugh!

It seems our sailor is queasier
on land than at sea!

Less laughing!

Alonso! Alonso! Alonso!
Alright! Relax.

That's enough.
Alonso, stop! Stop. Stop!

Stop. Stop. Get up. That's it.

-Do you like that man?
-That's a real man.

-Goddamn you.
-I told you I can't bear the darkness.

It's like I'm being executed.

I've broken my back
for this country.

What for? So a bunch of prigs
can laugh at me?

I'm knocked out, man.

Where's he going?

-What are you up to, fool?
-Who's that?

Some brat who sneaked in.

He wants to attack Goya. Who sent you?!

-No one, I swear.
-You're lying.

-Please don't hit me.
-Stop, please!

-I know him. He's Simón Bolivar.
-Teresa. I was told you'd be here.

They wouldn't let me in,
but I had to see you.

Get up, please.
Haven't you humiliated yourself enough?

This callow youth is your suitor?

I may be a callow youth,
but I'm a callow youth in love.

Every day without you
is torture for me.

Callow youth and poet.

An apt mix for those
who do not become men.

-No offense meant.
-You're an offense to manners,

sneaking in uninvited.

I've no wish to see you.
Haven't I told you 1000 times?

Jeez, this Pink Floyd
is the liberator of Latin America?

-Liberator of Latin America?
-You call it the Indies.

-You have to explain that.
-Yes, don't worry.

Who'd have thought
that a man of science

was hiding such roughness?

Would you like a fine wine?

I'm dying to hear of your adventures
on the high seas.

Mission accomplished, an appointment
for Alba. A little matter arose...

It won't be more serious
than the Godoy problem.

-What's wrong?
-Godoy's taken the foundling home

from the Board of Ladies and won't
return it until Goya paints the "Maja".

-No, the children will die.
-We have two missions,

getting Goya to paint the painting
and Godoy to return the home.

-Very well.
-And your "little matter"?

Nothing, Alonso almost
beat up Simón Bolívar.

-You met Simón Bolívar?
-He caught him sneaking in

to see that girl from
the Board of Ladies.

-What's her name?
-Teresa del Toro?

That's her. But he got a shock,
she can't stand him.

-How could I not see it?
-What's going on?

We don't have two missions,
we have three.

-Now what's wrong?
-Nothing.

The King and Queen want me
to go with them to the farm.

We leave tomorrow.
It'll only be a few days.

I'll miss you so much.

I'd love you to come too, dear,

but the Queen gets annoyed
if I take both you and my wife.

Is your wife not annoyed
that you sleep with the Queen?

Why did you stop the ladies
from running the home?

I don't think you understand.

These nobles think they own the kingdom.

I will not let a duchess
put herself above me.

Those children are the people,
who you fought so hard for.

Yes, the same people
that call me Cutpurse,

spend all day at parties, joking

and at the bullfights
while they despise me,

after all I've done for them.

You've sent some orphans
back into misery.

And I was like them.

You have no idea, Pepita.

I'm a politician and I have
to consider reasons of State

that you cannot understand.

Let's see if you understand this.

I will not be yours again
until those children

are treated as they deserve.

Teresa del Toro is the future wife
of Simón Bolívar,

until you scared and humiliated her.

Why is this Bolívar so important?

He was the liberator.

He helped many countries to shake off
the yoke of Spanish rule.

The yoke?

Castile brought faith in Christ
to the Indies, industry, education...

Disease, slavery. It wasn't all rosy.

I won't let you disrespect
the glory of Spain.

If this brat undermined the power of
the Empire, we don't have to help him.

But history is what it is.
If Bolívar doesn't marry Teresa,

his life and America as we know it
will be different.

-It'll be better.
-You know how this works.

-Like it or not, we have no choice.
-Alright, what do we do?

You, I don't know.
I have to think, I'm going to bed.

-Don't stay up late.
-No way, relax.

-A drink?
-Yes.

I'll try to bear all these things
I don't understand.

Keep still or you're dead.

You want Goya
to paint that monstrosity again,

but that's not possible.

Stop it and leave this place.

There'll be no second warning.
Is that clear?

Is that clear?

-Are you sure this is the drawing?
-How could I forget it?

We shouldn't have
left you alone, I'm sorry.

We can rule out the Inquisition.

It all points to some kind
of secret society or lodge.

Irene and Ernesto will look into it.
You return to 1799.

We're fighting on too many fronts.
We're not splitting up?

No, you won't be doing that.

Given the importance of the matter,
I spoke to the Presidency.

They want us to concentrate
on Bolívar and Goya.

Those are the orders.

Meanwhile, the orphans will die.

Save your moral plea, Pacino.

I know what a foundling home
entails, believe me.

And don't get me wrong.

One thing is what the Presidency says
and another is what I say.

When the boss gets an idea...

Thanks, I'd never have thought of it.

The credit goes to him,
and to the Board of Ladies.

We just took a shortcut.

Come, I want you to see
what we're doing.

Come in.

First we separated
the healthy children from the sick.

In the home they were together.

Every morning the sheets are changed
and everything washed with vinegar.

But we have a problem.

We only have one wet nurse
for every three babies.

The children need food.

And since many are born
with syphilis,

by sharing a breast
contagions increase.

There's no way, madam, he won't eat.

You can't hire more?

Healthy, well-fed women?

With our means, it's impossible.

That's why we're trying
to give them some pap.

Let's see.

It's lukewarm. Let's see...

Let's see... Let's see...

No, he doesn't want it.

Excuse me, we're overwhelmed.
Let's go.

We'll go somewhere quieter.
Excuse me.

Here's the liberator.

Teresa.

-What do you want?
-I brought you some sweets.

I'm busy. Leave me alone.

He may liberate Latin America,
but he's a goofball.

We have to do something.
Teresa has to fall for him again.

Count me out.

To think with one timely punch
the Empire would be saved.

Alonso. That's it!

That's what Lope did
to try to win me.

-That swine hit you?
-No.

No man who did that
would deserve my attention.

He hired two actors to attack me,
then he'd save me.

We can do the same
with Bolívar and his beloved.

Lope did that? What a bastard.
I saw that the other day in a movie.

-Here we go.
-"Back to the Future".

Obviously no idea is original.
Well, some more than others.

-I've never hit anyone.
-There's no need.

They're a couple of actors,
you punch one, he hits the ground

and María Teresa's safe
and loves you to death.

-It's that easy?
-Yes.

I think it's dangerous.

You'd better keep
sending her chocolates.

It's the only solution.

María Teresa lost interest
when Alonso humiliated you.

She needs to see a proper man,
to see a hero.

That girl's fickle.
I've got some nieces that...

-Alonso, please!
-No, Mr. De Entrerríos.

I fear María Teresa's rejection
more than death itself.

Since the day I saw her,
I knew I'd give her my life.

It will be María Teresa or no one.

I don't understand
why you want to help me.

The patience you need...

Velázquez. You've done nothing.

The hardest thing
is getting the concept...

What did Goya want to show?

-A naked woman.
-Sure, but behind that?

-A divan.
-You don't understand.

That's rational, it's obvious,
but what's the feeling, the passion?

-What's the passion?
-Velázquez, don't piss me off.

Keep the feeling to yourself when
you paint sunsets in your spare time.

You know a lot about reports and rules,
but nothing about art.

I know that the mission depends
on this damned painting.

-I'm not a photocopier.
-No, of course not.

-You're a pain in the neck.
-And you're a bully.

-What?
-Sorry, sorry, sorry.

No, don't you dare! That's it.

Finish the painting or I'll suspend
you and your salary.

-Good evening.
-Don Francisco.

Good evening.
Look, I have your engraving.

The Sleep of Reason
Produces Monsters.

Thank you, Don Francisco.
It's amazing and so true.

Beautiful, beautiful.

-So nice to see you, Duchess.
-What's this woman doing here?

What a surprise to see you here,
Don Francisco.

You devote yourself
to chance encounters now?

At night and in a tavern,
I'm afraid it's inevitable.

It'd be strange to find you
at home and in mourning.

-Would you like to sit?
-Watch your comments, painter.

Your friends will think
you speak out of spite.

But you speak
with a clear conscience.

All Madrid knows you change men
more often than your dress.

You're right and I'll tell you why.
It's hard to find a man who's worth it.

One in particular just whines
and weeps all day.

Yes, better to give yourself
to dandies and bullfighters.

The higher the lady,
the more lowly her passions.

Lowly passions?
You don't understand.

I aspire to live each day
as if it were the last,

to wager it all on one card,

like those bullfighters
you despise so much.

Despise them?
If I did, I wouldn't paint them.

-But you're jealous of them.
-Jealous?

Do you know why I see them?

Because I prefer to flutter around
the light, even if it burns me.

You're a tormented man, Paco,

and I don't want your shadow
to fall on me.

Yes. I understand.

Keep me informed.

-Any news of the patrol?
-The duchess plan failed.

We need new ideas.

-I'm afraid that's not the worst of it.
-Why?

From the seal Amelia saw
when she was attacked,

we've found out its owner
and confirmed our fears.

It's a secret society.

They call themselves
the Exterminating Angel.

Legend blends with reality,

but we know for sure
it was a violent little group

of the fundamentalist,
Ultramontane variety.

They tried to do away
with all Enlightenment progress

and restore the Inquisition,
using any method:

extortion, theft or murder.

The cause of God calls you.

Crush the liberal perfidy,
death to their freedom of thought,

the ruin of our country.

-Love live Immortal God!
-Hurrah!

-Long live the old laws!
-Hurrah!

But that's not
the most serious part.

The Exterminating Angel
didn't exist in that period.

It was founded 20 years later,
in 1821.

Maybe... it was brewing.

I don't think so. It came about
in order to topple Fernando VII.

They thought him weak.

They wanted to enthrone his brother,
Carlos María Isidro,

who was even more reactionary.

Irene, I need you
to join the mission,

to help the patrol to recover
"The Nude Maja"

and warn them of the new danger.

Yes, sir.

-There's no rush, she'll see us.
-Sorry, I'm a little nervous.

Now. But don't tell anyone
that I helped you.

No, they can torture me first,
like Saint Lorenzo.

Don't get caught,
and let's not get dramatic.

-How do I look?
-Good.

I owe you my life.

The Exterminating Angel?

My grandma used that
to kill cockroaches.

We're in no mood for jokes,

much less if it's confirmed
that they're time travelers.

-What can we do?
-Be very careful

and finish our mission
as soon as possible.

-What about the painting?
-Goya won't paint the Duchess again.

-They hate each other.
-We need another model.

We can resort to Pepita Tudó.

Fine, I'll help you with that.
What about Bolívar?

He's an unbearable weakling.

Yes, but Alonso and I have
a foolproof plan.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

No, you're thinking
what I'm thinking,

that's why I'm the boss.

-What?
-Sorry, it was a joke.

Bad, but a joke.

As the wise man said,
it's better to laugh than cry.

-What wise man?
-Peret,

one of the kings
of the Catalan rumba.

So we have a secret society
that time travels.

As if we weren't swamped already.

-It's unconfirmed. Sorry.
-Yes.

The toast always falls
on the buttered side.

Well, you're overflowing
with folksy wisdom today.

Folksy wisdom needn't envy
that of intellectuals.

And it describes
our situation perfectly.

If something bad can happen,
something worse will happen.

We've overcome many crises.
No reason for this to be different.

The hard thing isn't overcoming
the crisis, but the wounds left open.

-And Spain is one of them.
-Yes.

Those who believe in absolute truth know
that and try to impose it on others.

-Exactly.
-They fill their mouth with words

like "country", "God"
and then negotiate with both.

Yes, or they proclaim revolutions
and when they succeed,

imitate the dictatorships
the criticized so much.

Unware that it's nothing more
than a fight between brothers.

-There's Cain and Abel for you.
-Or Henry IV and Isabel I.

-The Carlist Wars, the Civil War.
-In short, the dark paintings of Goya.

-I don't know where we're headed.
-You're telling me.

So we have to ensure
that "The Nude Maja" survives,

so that not everything
is so dark and grim.

That's that.
Velázquez has gone to meet Goya.

Don't you dare tell him that I know.

If he finds out, he'll be in my office
every day, asking to go on missions.

-Relax, boss.
-Relax?

Who told you about the painting?

-It was meant to be a secret.
-You needn't worry.

The secret will be safe with us.
We don't wish to harm your protector.

-We just want Godoy to...
-Excuse me.

I assume you mean
the Prince of Peace.

Of course, forgive me.

The Prince of Peace
wants this painting

and we want him to return
the foundling home to the Ladies.

I know about the home.
Manuel told me.

Goya would be willing
to paint the painting.

We need you to pose again.

-Goya agrees? I'm very surprised.
-Why?

He barely looked at my body.

He suffered more than I did,
he was so shy.

-Or he didn't like what he saw.
-Impossible.

That's why he painted another body.

With those breasts so...
They're certainly not mine.

I won't do it.

I won't submit myself
to another humiliation.

Excuse me, but I think
that you more than anyone

should pity those children,
being an orphan.

Enough! All this dithering
to get to the point!

You're very kind,
but you can go home.

-Listen to us, please.
-I will not give in!

It'd be an honor for me, Don Francisco,

to be the muse of a genius,
the object of admiration...

Blackmail, Miss Tudó.
Your friend Godoy is a blackmailer.

Who cares? The fate of those children
justifies everything.

-Don't stoop to his level.
-You're all deafer than I am.

Don't you understand?
I can't paint that painting.

-I can't!
-It's the same as usual.

You sell engravings
in defense of reason

but when it comes to the fight
you look the other way.

Anything else to tell me?

So it has been and always will be
in this unjust country.

The intelligent divided
in myriad internal struggles,

the brave face firing squads,

the upright are exiled
and the innocent in misery.

Don Francisco.
Excuse me, Francisco.

Sorry to bother you.

-It's an honor.
-Sorry, I can't hear... What?

It's a great honor to meet you,
I'm such an admirer.

-I'm a painter too, you know?
-Yes, I'm so glad.

I need your help,
it won't take a moment.

What do you want?

-I need to paint a woman.
-What?

Paint... a woman... nude.

Is this a joke? Piss off!

-Piss off!
-No, you don't understand.

I want to enter a competition in the
San Fernando Academy of Fine Arts.

I'm an honorary member,
I can't recommend anyone.

It won't take a moment...

What drives you to the canvas?

The beauty of the naked body?

The nostalgia for youth?
The fear of loneliness?

That's all nonsense.
Nonsense and tall tales, got it?

How could you understand?

You can only paint
a woman you're obsessed with...

...that has you defeated
and at her mercy.

It's not enough to love her.
She has to have stolen your soul.

And you must have
the nobility to admit it.

If there's only lust,
the portrait is a rape.

If there's only detachment,

how does it differ
from a surgeon and his scalpel?

To paint a woman well,
you must first give yourself to her.

Painting is another way
of making love.

For example, look at
the superb Diego Velázquez.

He is magnificent.

Shut up! Shut up, bitch!

-Hold still.
-Shut up.

Let her go, you cowards!

That lady is the best thing
to happen in my life.

I swear I'll kill you
unless you let her go.

Fear not, María Teresa,
you'll always be safe with me.

I'll show you.

I'm not getting paid
to have my face busted.

What are you doing, you fool?!

-Those two trembled as they fled.
-You've beaten up Simón Bolívar.

Who?

Velázquez was a master beyond reach.

What can we who came later do?

Admire his genius,
lament our mediocrity...

Bloody idiot.

-But he's very small.
-Very.

-How many days old is he?
-We don't know.

He just arrived.

He was left here like this?

Ladies, I came to apologize.

For what, don Francisco? Are you
going to paint the painting again?

No, no. I'm deeply sorry.

I do admire your work with the children,
but I cannot paint it now.

Why? I don't understand.

I'm a bitter, skeptical old man.
I no longer hope to be understood.

And that's why you're here?
For our compassion?

You ask me to paint a woman's beauty,
but all that comes out...

...are monsters, witches and demons.

It's the only thing I see around me,
a miserable Spain,

trapped in its nightmare.

So you choose to give up.

-I'm so disappointed in you.
-Duchess, it's not my...

Sir, I must apologize to you too.
I was unfair with you.

No, you've nothing to apologize for.

Many pedants that are
deemed as enlightened

should have your intelligence
and your way with words.

You are truly enlightened, not them.

If I were 20 years younger,
I'd be hopelessly in love with you.

They say that love is ageless.

-What?
-Nothing. Nothing.

Some old liar must've
made up that line.

Sorry, we didn't expect some dick...
madman to suddenly turn up.

A great idea.
That savage almost killed me.

-Do you know who he was?
-No.

He had a crazy look.

You can't sneak onto a mission.
You can't!

-I had to talk to Goya.
-What if you'd killed Bolívar?

-Please don't say anything.
-Velázquez, please.

-If Salvador finds out, he'll kill me.
-What did he tell you?

What I needed to know,
he can only paint a woman he admires,

who transfixes him,
who has him at her mercy.

That's why you made this journey?

That's life, whether you're a painter,
a footballer or a plumber!

Help! Please!

Who are you? No, no!
You can't do this!

No, no, please, you can't do this.

Children. No, no.

Please...

They are only children.

I won't allow it.
Godoy, this is an outrage.

-Take them to the home.
-Stop, please.

-Doesn't it break your heart?
-Let go of these children.

But this is a rescue, madam.
You'd abducted them.

This is the last one!

Let go of her at once!
You're not taking her anywhere!

-Who's stopping me? You?
-Yes, and so will I.

No, please, let them go.
I don't want any blood.

I swear, you'll pay for this.

Oh, yes? And who are you?

What mediocrity desires
the fame of confronting me?

I am Simón Bolívar.

Remember my name
every time you are unjust.

I'm sorry, I've already forgotten it.
Let's go.

Giddyup! Let's go!

What are you doing here?

Didn't you need a model to paint?

It seems Godoy
let his arm be twisted.

I'd have enjoyed twisting it.

The foundling home will be perfect,
just as history tells. Good work.

There's no finer mission
than saving a child's life.

How long have they been hanging?

Two hours?

We have an outstanding matter.

Well...

He just needs a little push.

Now you don't mind
the kids trashing the Empire.

I do! But he came forward
to defend the weak.

-And one must always respect that.
-Sure.

I don't know, I think it's for the best.

May I? I have something
to tell Mr. Bolívar.

Irene's a dangerous one.

I want to congratulate you
on confronting that soldier.

If not for you, we wouldn't be here
and this home is essential.

So, thank you.
These children must be cared for.

-I don't know, but I think...
-Simón...

-Will you help me get the nappies?
-Of course.

-We can take it easy now.
-I'll catch up.

Yes, but it's all dirty here
and the children will slip over.

-Duchess.
-Yes.

-I came to say goodbye.
-I'm so grateful for your help.

I believe you were looking
for something like this.

-It'll be useful to you. See you.
-Thank you.

Bottle teat.

-Cheers!
-Cheers!

Master, do you like Velázquez?

Do I like him?
He's the greatest of the masters.

-Would you like to have met him?
-No, not at all.

He was reputed to be
an unbearable Andalusian.

Well, this Cariñena is splendid.

But I must be going.
Art is long and life is short.

Here. This is for you.

-Thank you, Don Francisco.
-You're welcome.

Gentlemen...

Amelia, Amelia.

Amelia, what is it?

Amelia.

It's "Capricho Number 81".

But Goya only painted 80.

Just as I said, he lacks technique.

Yes, it's great.

Just as well, I don't have
to paint the "Maja" anymore.

-Goya is in danger.
-What is it?

Three locals glared at him
and followed him out.

-Don Francisco! Are you alright?
-Yes.

-Up you go.
-I don't know what happened.

They pounced on me.

-You didn't see anyone?
-Two shadows.

They fled up the street.

Amelia, follow me.

-They're dead.
-They're wearing the rings.

Ernesto. We need a clean-up crew.

We lost them.
Let's get back to the others.

-Find anything?
-No.

Don't fret, Pacino.

I'm not, but...

It all worked out in the end.
We have the Goya painting,

the ladies have the home
and Bolívar will wed María Teresa.

-They'll wed in La Coruña in 1802.
-I hope they're happy.

-You don't know what happened.
-No.

They went to live in Venezuela,

but María Teresa caught a fever
and died soon after.

So we sent the kid into
the worst misfortune of his life.

-Is something wrong?
-No.

Go ahead.
We'll see you in Salvador's office.

-It's history, it has to be that way.
-Nothing has to be that way.

You're wrong, Pacino.
Things are what they are.

When Bolívar's wife died,

he left for Paris
and found new ideas there,

but he swore never to wed again,

that his only love would be
the independence of Latin America.

-What about Godoy?
-The town of Aranjuez rose against him.

He fled to Italy with Pepita
and spent his life writing memoirs

to justify what he'd done
and clear his name.

-Does anything end well in Spain?
-No.

You're wrong, Pacino.

The Board of Ladies continued its work
in the home for half a century.

They reformed the institution and cut
the mortality rate from 96 to 20%.

And they introduced
many medical advances.

We managed to keep Goya safe.

-Safe? His health is failing.
-Don't you believe it.

The Duchess of Alba
died two years later,

but Goya survived her by 23 years.

Difficult years.
He did his best work, but...

-He had to die in exile.
-Any news on the dead?

Ernesto is at the autopsy.

Gee, I didn't know it'd be so fast.

Some news. One of the bodies
had seen a dentist regularly.

By the implants we know
it wasn't exactly 1817,

the date that
Exterminating Angel appeared.

What year, Ernesto?

1990.

-That's not possible.
-Yes, it is.

This is the necklace I gave to Marta.

-Are you sure?
-Yes, I am.

His Majesty has entrusted me
with a crucial task.

Oh, yes, the chronicle.

Every morning the same.
Now she'll leave the bedroom

and say 'good morning'.

Good morning.

Why did Salvador recruit me
if I'm not sent on any patrol?

I need a mission now.

You're worried that Lola
isn't sent on a mission.

I'm worried about Pacino.

I don't understand
how he could let Marta get away.

It's the year of the signing

of the peace treaty
between Spain and England.

They tried to poison
the English envoy.

I'll send a patrol at once.

Someone wants to tear up the treaty.

If they do,
it'll be the downfall of our country.

Who prefers war to peace?

-Any arms manufacturer.
-Or many Spanish nobles,

like Lerma, who couldn't forget
the English affronts at sea.

How goes your story, Don Miguel?

William Shakespeare.

I need to meet him.

I sometimes think Lerma is the king
and we are his servants.

Meanwhile, the King hunts.

You will accompany
the English retinue.

My English is pretty basic.

I learnt to love cold beer in Cádiz.

There's no comparison.
Like our fried fish and fish and chips.

You're so funny.

-Allow me to introduce...
-No need, Majesty.

We met some time ago.

You'd better listen to me
instead of Lerma.

You're obsessed!

-Are you William Shakespeare?
-That's right.