Wesele (1973) - full transcript

Presents

an Andrzej Wajda film

based on the play by
Stanislaw Wyspianski

THE WEDDING

Cracow, 1900

Written by

Cast

Cast of
the dream play

In Cooperation with
the dramatic supervisor

Consultant

Music



Production Designers

Costume Designers

Set Decoration

Makeup

Edited by

Sound

2nd Director

Cameramen

Production Manager

Director of Photography

Directed by

Praise the Lord.

What's new in politics, sir?

Politics? My good man...



I have more than enough
of that all daylong.

You're a politician?

Precisely - I cannot
stand politicians.

Interesting matters, those.

He may read who is curious.

So much zest...
and now so sad.

What a seducer you are.

Hard to resist your charms.
You've hung your head...

As if I were overwhelmed by
this honor!

From you, big newspaper editor.

In my mind a drama's spinning,

ferocious and impetuous.

Like a rock the armor-clad
hero stands.

A cheerful tale,
but very sad because of that.

Dramatic? Beautiful!
With us everything's dramatic.

And here the croak of vulgarity
forces itself upon the ears and eyes.

Here each generation simmers.

As if we all were damned,

allured by ghosts and delusions.

A peasant to us becomes... as
powerful as King Piast.

He's got something of
the old kings.

The peasant is power.
And that's that.

Like in my days when
matchmakers came,

from a peasant and a lord
while I was in love.

Praise the Lord,
the best of luck.

Welcome, father...
Guests from Cracow!

Everything's new to them
that is old to us.

They're reared on alien beliefs,

but view this
as some enchantment.

A cure to dispel
their drowsiness.

Suddenly so dreamy, I
felt eager to love...

Wojtek, stop it!

What about
the difference in station?

Station's meaningless -
he just fancied the girl.

It's quite a usual thing.

When gents get bored with
themselves, they play with us.

Barefoot for a month and feeling
fine, barefoot and bare-headed.

No underwear and I am very well.

Welcome, Father, you're so kind.

What a change
in the Polish nature.

I feel it's doing
something to me.

Believe me, lady...

Don't forget us,
reverend Father.

Some despise me, a country
bumpkin, peasant born.

All are kindred in this show:

I'm peasant stock and so are you!

And you'll soon be

a prelate, Father.

I must have deserved it

but some others envy me.

If they're so tough, then
knock them down!

We're speaking of clerical
rank, my dear.

- Oh, sorry. I didn't know.
- How naive and innocent she is.

I'm happy...

my sister, but
I think you will regret it.

Auntie dear! They're all
dancing, we're standing here.

Dance then if
a gentleman asks you.

- It's not a gentleman I want.
- Then you'll have to dance alone.

With the best men, who brush
the ceiling with peacock's feathers.

- In that the simple crowd?
- But it's a lovely one.

They jostle and push
and there may be a fight.

- Not for you.
- We'll be right back.

Why so merry, dear?
Brush away your hair.

With such a lot of work to do,

yet the wedding drew you here.

Glad to get away from
trifling things.

Your work's a serious thing.

Why dismiss it with a gesture?

There are no serious things. All is
passing - opinions, beliefs.

- Even the truth?
- There's not a single grain of it.

- He's guzzled a lot, the pig.
- Let the others do the dancing.

Good evening to you all.

- Good evening, my good woman.
- Wine for me.

- I'm the widow of the village elder.
- The counselor's wife from Cracow.

How pale the bridesmaids are.

- Does the best man want to dance?
- What's the hurry...?

I'd dance with you
if you asked me to.

I can dance with you if
you like.

How are the fields? Have
you finished sowing?

This is not the time for it.

Don't be angry
if I hold you a bit tighter.

Like in the old days when
matchmakers came!

- The Chinese are hanging in there.
- Do you know where China is?

Far away...

- Well?
- Somewhere far.

With his horse sense a peasant would
get to those far-off places.

During the war, some of us
got as far as Japan.

But here your village is
peaceful.

You're afraid of movement here.

Deep inside you sneer at us!

It seems to me you gentlemen
could've done many things.

What you lack,
though, is the will.

You're looking at me as
if I were a picture.

A perfect picture
without a flaw,

with natural colors to boot

- and the outlines very true.
- What a judge you are!

Thank you, little flower.

When I started whirling round, I
almost kissed the best man.

- A kiss is never a loss.
- But he's too stupid for that.

- Is that all you can say?
- Don't do it, little flower.

If some girl told me simply,

frankly like a peasant girl, I
want you...

You mean me?
You'd like me to propose?

- Do you love me?
- You keep asking all the time.

It's because my head is reeling.

Oh, my darling, are you mine?

I'm yours as it should be!

I wanted to say
something tender.

You'll never guess,
my dear girl wife,

how my heart pounds when I
see the wedding crown!

- To know you're mine.
- My shoes are a bit tight.

- So, my dear, take them off!
- It's the shoemaker's fault!

- Then dance barefoot.
- Me, the bride?

What are you saying?
It's impossible.

- Why torment yourself, why?
- At weddings, you must be shod!

I wanted to knock...
at the door of your heart.

I wanted to knock
at the door of your heart.

It must be burning inside!

It's cold in my heart.

Cold, but you may get burned.

Cupid could take care of it.

He is blind, he might
not be true.

- He's a swift and winged spirit.
- Thus, so many wanting wings.

This, I gather, spells the end.

If you marry, make
the most of it.

I'm that elated,
I have no need to drink.

- So be careful. You may drown.
- You take wife - you melt down.

I don't care what happens now

as long as the music's on!

How this music whirls and twirls!

Sleep is good, so are songs...

Life has been so intricate,

you should fly from it to dreams.

One should have
tremendous strength,

a titanic one at that,

to be someone amid this sham

of fate, music, fairy tales.

What my soul need is play.

How you prattle, talk and talk...

- How do you like this wedding?
- I feel as if it were my own.

I'm not sure it's mine, though.

Sometimes there's this unrest.

I don't care for happiness,
mine or others'.

Quiet... quiet.

My opinion does not change.

It's the point of view you hold.

Trifles wreck the greatest love.

I knew a couple
for five years engaged

- when a cupboard changed all that.
- My opinion hasn't changed.

Why listen to a funny man who,
instead of water, would like milk.

Not to waste time
courting her...

only to seize my girl at once.

Now my charming little bride,
how are you going to live?

Well, one way or another...
How should I know?

I haven't talked to him
about it yet.

Electric sparks fly
from your eyes.

What care you for any
man's heart.

You mean yours?

And what will you talk about in
the long winter evenings?

You don't want to talk
and need to wait it out.

Why should he talk to me if
he has nothing to say?

Why tire his mouth?

There were gods,
there will be gods.

There's faith in the people.

Why are you angry?

You sing like Lohengrin that
we're not for each other.

It's just social effusiveness.

- We read the papers and know it all.
- What for?

You've come here from the city.

How do you like the village?

- I've taken it to my heart.
- Your cities are lousy now.

There's still a soul in the sticks
that moves with flair.

I've danced with a local
that no one wanted to ask.

Generosity I can afford. She's a
peasant, I'm a lord.

I will have a little nap
while she can wait.

- So you Moishe have come.
- But I'm still a bit shy.

- Why, we're friends!
- Who dislike each other.

- You'll shed this garb tomorrow.
- But it's regional, national!

You're deluding yourself,
which you may.

- How's Miss Rachel?
- She's coming soon.

Wants to see the gentlemen,
the dancing.

Quite an educated girl, her. Says
music entrances her.

She's very é la mode,

she likes poets, even peasants.

Why did you marry a peasant? Lots
of intelligent girls around.

But I find them mediocre.

Bonsoir...

Bonsoir...

My daughter.

Brought here on a cloud,

by a wisp of evening mist.

And this cottage...
lit up like an ark in a flood.

Ringing with music at night,
looked so lovely.

Will you allow me, father?

Enjoy yourself, Rachel.

You, sir, abhor me - a Jew, but
she must have your respect.

She's not ashamed of her father.

We'll take good care of you on
this dark night.

A feast of color as if in dream,

the costumes,
all the colors of the rainbow.

Moths are drawn to the flame.

Where it glimmers,
there they fly.

They come trusting
blindly, joyful and sincere.

Little do they know, it seems,
that they'll burn their wings.

Have you come on wings too?

Dancing with abandon, this crowd

will lend itself to poetry.

If you change, add something.

I do feel it, hear it too.

Some day I'll write it all.

The bride wants a word with you.

Leaving you, my lady,
to attend to my own.

- And you leave me yourself.
- For you interest me.

I'm watching you and sizing up.

- At first sight?
- You think it casual?

A crash of thunder!

You aim may not be true.

Well, young lady...

love, Cupid, a golden arrow.

You think the end is nigh?

And Cupid will ravish me?

Galatea!

Me - a nymph?

- Well then?
- What's your wish?

Happiness.

Free love maybe?

It has always been my dream.

And if fortune smiles on you?

I'd stop dreaming for sure.

He - a city gent,
she - a peasant girl.

They have come here
and mixed with us.

This sideshow...
doesn't cost them much.

- Well, tomorrow, then?
- I know the date.

You're very precise.

- I take it and I pay.
- I can't live on a peasant's penny.

What's this? Don't
fight and quarrel now!

I'm such a headstrong man.

You owe money, you should pay.

It's a lie, you dirty dog!

- You have a debt.
- I will not pay!

- I can't pay you until he pays!
- Pay your debt.

To hell with it!

Who is it steals my money?

The Jew or you, Reverend Father?

- Vodka!
- Go and find some!

So they quarrel and call names.

That is temperament at play.
As flammable as dry hay.

Flash a knife, they'll do...
the same as in 1846.

I know this from hearsay,

yet this poisons my idea
of the Polish peasantry.

How about when clad
in roses, singing on a pyre

to show a man sing who
dies in a crown of roses.

Only Homer could do that.

And the fire, a cloud of smoke
that would rise from the pyre?

Death!

And... that would be strength.

Now we make merry together,

But there has been anger, blood.

I know nothing. I am clean.

Lead us not unto temptation,
sweet Jesus...

- Were you there?
- You are younger, but I saw it...

When the snow melted,
it washed blood away.

You seem to be offended.

- What're you looking for?
- If the lesson has been learned.

- Both of us learn from each other.
- What this learning for?

- It is art for art's sake.
- I value peace much more.

I amuse you half in jest.

In this gallant style then
no one offends anyone.

I'm listening - oh what eloquence.

Words, words, words, words...

One bird...
is not like another.

Likewise all men are different.

Some men
are not the equal of others.

The eagle won't dive into shit.

I am what I am,
you're what you are.

But if something was
to happen... we're ready,

sound of mind and body.

Find someone you revere
and you'll have a proper king.

You'll one day love a peasant.

Sounds like quite a prophesy.

As to peasants, they attract me,

but he must be a handsome lad
to bring me back to nature.

Because there is no one else.

Your father bewailed
your literary strain.

He allows me everything
and even praises me.

Interesting, isn't it?

Exploitation, trade - he and me?

You drown everything in poetry.

- I've read many poems.
- Have you written any?

I didn't want to.

I had the good taste...

not to write.

I loathe bad form,
but wherever I look,

I see poetry living...

enchanted...

sacred!

I'm sick and tired of everything,

my heart grows cold;
My Guardian Angel gone.

If anything happens, we're ready.

If somebody leads us -
we have scythes.

- A loudmouth you are.
- Look at this fist.

We're just waiting for a sign.

As with this Jew...

When I hit him in the gob,

he was bleeding like a pig,
but did not fall;

There was such a crush.

Why did he have to bawl at me?

I'm looking at these peasants...

That which was may come again.

They sawed my grandpa
with a saw.

And my father...
they just stabbed.

With sticks and hoes they chased him,
bloodied, through a mob of folks.

- We have all forgotten that.
- People change.

How strangely
everything is spinning.

Now we're wearing
peacock feathers.

Nature changes us.

Faith still slumbers in the people,
that something will come of this.

I want to love, but madly...

The music's lovely - your heart's lively.

Yet many tears and graves
between you and that love lay.

Fate must despise happiness
if it doesn't shower it on us.

No dog will argue with me!

Jasiek, best man, listen to what
I told you before. Well, guess what?

- I don't know.
- Those city girls want us.

Listen, Kasper
to what I tell you.

- Well guess what?
- I don't know.

- What they want is to mock us.
- Well they're bridesmaids.

We're not just anybody.

You play with roses.
With poets too?

- You keep teasing me, don't you?
- It's your heart blazing with desire.

I only dropped by for a while.

Now I'll return to my home
and think of you from afar.

If I'm in love,

I'll send you a letter and a key.

Roam poetry, roam...
in a garden amidst roses.

Yes, yes!

I'll leave through the garden
and you stand by the window.

Gladly will I watch you wander,

standing here in the warmth.

Don't worry about me.

If someone has
the scent of roses,

they'll wrap him in straw

and come spring
he'll bloom again.

That's lofty.

I'll complain to my poetry
before that straw man

and will command him

to come to the wedding.

Then perhaps you'll believe
that what Rachel's said is true.

- Your name's so lyrical.
- Beautiful, indeed.

I want poetry for you

and to listen to it too.
Invite to this wedding

all things wild, shrubs and flowers,
lightning, thunder, songs...

- And the straw man.
- You already believe?

What a wedding it may be.

Now I'll praise you.

Adieu.

For a while you were
a poet to me.

So it's adieu!

I've not grown up to the grand scale.
I'm amusing myself

pour passer Le temps.

Dear Bride...

Just whisper...

Whatever you wish
will come to pass.

- At my request?
- At your command.

What are you driving at?

This day of your happiness,
invite here all those guests

- in torment, misery, and hell.
- Why those evil spirits?

Let them come inside and listen
to the wedding and the music.

Let all those people in?

The music will caress them,

the ghost will stop for a spell
and then quickly depart in smoke.

Maybe others understand
what this is about.

Here's my husband.

Listen, bridegroom,
you're a poet

and this wedding is yours.

I'm happy,

I'd invite the whole world
to this feast.

I'm so glad! I'm so glad!

Invite that straw man
that's outside.

Come, you straw man
to the wedding.

I'm the bridegroom,
and I invite you.

Plenty here to eat and drink,
you can have yourself a feast.

It's too much for us.
Come to the wedding.

Will he hear? He is deaf.

And bring anyone you wish!

You can have some fun with us!

Be happy!

Will he listen to us?

Like a raven roaming round,
come to the feast, old tramp.

Your grandson, old friend,
will be a gentleman.

Glad I am but still I think
sister dear you'll weep.

For what?

For the days when you were here,

when you'd drive out cows
to graze.

We were together then.

You'll long for us
and Father too.

Once with your man satisfied,

you'll come back here in tears.

For your soul
and heart are here.

You'll be lonely there and sad.

- And you'll regret.
- What will I regret?

Come here, all the matrons,
come!

Open up the room,

let the young bride out.

We won't let her out,

until we get a bottle of wine.

Time the children were in bed.

I don't want to go to sleep
while the music's playing

the other kids are asleep,
let them lie as they are.

Come here at once.

What little sleepy eyes.

I want to be a grownup.

Bring the lamp and rock the baby...
and I'll let you join in dancing.

I'll never have enough;
Your cheeks are so smooth.

Come I want to kiss you,
your lips, eyes, and brow, my dear...

This is all so blissful that
I'll kiss you without end.

That's a tiring job.
No wonder you're so pale.

Truth is they wouldn't
leave me in peace.

- You didn't want it.
- But they did.

Hey! What are you doing?

I have loved in various ways...
but you I love in my own way.

Let it be so.
Now I'm yours, you are mine.

How I longed for
the sun and the corn!

It's your wedding, go and dance.

I can't dance any more.

Kiss me or you'll be sorry.

Oh, the music moves me so.

Just see... how happy we'll be.

My dear Lord!

We'll build ourselves
a manor house.

I'll plant birches
under the windows.

They grow quickly,
they'll give shade.

We will sit amid the green...

in an orchard in full bloom.

Stately.

And on a fine and sunny day.

On a fine and sunny day.

We'll walk to the garden together.

We'll walk to the garden together.

Who called me...

what did he want?

I've dressed up in all I had.

I'm here, I'm here!
At the wedding.

Many other guests will come

only let the cold wind blow.

What is playing in our souls,

what do people see in dreams?

Let us rest,
I'm tired of dancing.

My sweet wife, my dear soul.

I'm sad for you, go and dance.

I really don't want to.
So I'd better stay with you.

My head has got so clouded up
as if it was your wedding, dear...

But it's not our wedding, Mary...
it is not ours!

Put the pain to sleep.

Where are you now?

You went away, I waited long,
but I never saw the day,

although you promised me.
Where's your grave?

Somewhere very far away;

No one will ever go there.

You were like the golden sun.

How pale you are!

It is the light.

Now your cheeks are red again!

Hold me close.

It's you I want, it's you!

Someone here... keeps following me!
I hear footfalls a step ahead.

- Who are you?
- The court jester.

Great man.

Great because
I'm dressed as a clown,

because I've disappeared.

You have more and more clowns,
almost a clown's convention.

- Salve, brother.
- Father, Salve!

You'd rather sleep...

A number of good clowns are gone.

We dress ourselves in gray.

The concept of the nation
is being extinguished.

I put my poor soul to sleep
and put my brother to sleep.

Confessing another's sins?

What we see is
a far cry from dreams,

so removed from everything.

From what was great
in this land!

You're in tears, your soul's bleeding...
but I can see from your speech

that you're sound of mind and body.
Your mood will improve tomorrow.

- For misfortune I call!
- Screech owl! Yuck!

Lie to your heart,
no one will guess.

Off to the wedding feast
to dance!

To stir this national cauldron.

And perhaps find a man
in the dregs.

Whence this affliction?

It chafes, vexes and hurts me.

Have we still got any rights?
Have we got the right to live?

We're captive butterflies,

growing fat on
poisonous remedies.

You're sad,
it's the music's work.

It chokes me,
all this national gaiety.

- Give me your hand.
- Let me alone.

Your hand... Away with you!

Do you know what you
and your dream should be?

Tomorrow comes,
first the dawn...

Do you know
what you could've been?

Dream, specter, phantom, ghost.

The word - swift ghost,
harbinger!

The voice of my dreams -
the Knight!

Are you going to write
a sonnet or an octave?

No, I foresee a different game.

I feel a rope around my neck.

Poland - that's a great cause.

You've gotten yourself
a peasant Wench!

Poland is nothing but riffraff now.

Gold, gold is all they want!

You took command, hetman,

a knave and the king's pal.

You used to lead.
And now we're dogs enslaved...

And you burn
in the fires of hell.

Nothing will save us,
neither king,

nor pain, regret, or our tears.

Hey, hetman, hey, hetman!

- It's my day of love today.
- Be generous, Branicki.

Let's embrace, let's kiss.

You took the Muscovite money.

I had to go
court the Tsarina's bastards.

What ails you, sir?
The bride's cast a spell?

Ghosts, fiends straight from hell.

Don't run away,
a word I'd like to say:

"This your wedding.
I wish you luck."

My friend... hey, friend!

Away with you, hell-hound.
Who are you?

The leader
of your peasant revolt.

I was their fathers' hangman.
Now I'm the matchmaker!

See? I'm wearing medals.

Blood on your clothes,
blood on your hair...

Shut up!
Don't you repeat it!

Bring me, Brother,
a pail of water

to wash my hands, wash my face.

- Here's to you.
- Thank you, sir.

But let me kiss her.

Just arrived
and he wants a kiss.

Not if you don't want to.

He's drunk the bottle dry.

- Kasia...
- Yes, Jasio?

- Well, you see...
- Come, have a word with me.

Well?

- What about us?
- The grass is wet with dew.

If we were alone...

Kasia...

Kacper!

Kacper!

- Go to the barn.
- What for?

You go first
and spread some straw.

- We'll come.
- Are you stuck on him?

Get married then.

Slow to marry but quick
to grab her, aren't you?

- She's got plenty to grab.
- Bring some vodka.

Here's some dough.

You're right, I will go.

Peacock feathers I have got.

Peacock feathers I've put on.

Peacock feathers pretty.

Peacock feathers stolen

I'll build me a lordly house.

Peacock feathers pretty... etc.

There's a gentleman...

Take the horse, Feed it.

He must be someone great.

What a host of wedding guests.

- Who is it?
- He's waiting, go and see.

Did you hear?
A guest waiting at the door.

You have a guest.
They say he's someone great.

Oh my, you do look fine...

Mother dear, please don't scold.

Unsteady, aren't you now?

Mother, please, don't scold me.

The Wedding's made me wistful.

He is some important guest.

Close the door.
You can talk there.

This dancing, I've had enough.

Who's there?

Who's is there?

Hail, Włodzimierz,
I've come here as a guest.

I have news for you, my lord.

May I ask your name?

The Beggar-Lord with a lyre?

- I have come with orders.
- With orders?

What's hidden will be revealed.
What was distant now is near.

- What is hidden will be revealed?
- You will call the men to arms at dawn.

First I'll consult my wife,
she has peasant cunning.

Stay here...
Be ready before the sunrise.

- Is it to start?
- Obey me blindly.

- I'll be ready.
- Your word's your bond.

Here is the Golden Horn.

The Golden Horn?

Poland is not yet lost...

My God...

Hanuś! Hanuś!

What is it now?

I must get ready.

My belts, cartridge bags,
my rifle... pistols, sabers!

What bags?
You can hardly stand.

- I must be ready.
- You are sick.

Now he wants some bags at night.

- Get my horse.
- You may fall into a ditch.

I've sworn upon my soul.

Magic, some uncanny force!

Something great,
we'll start to live!

He gave orders!
I must obey.

His strength has bewitched me.

The spirit of the nation.

You've been drinking
far too much.

The spirit's orders - I must be ready!

- You can hardly stand.
- Did you call?

- Jasiek! Come here!
- All right.

Saddle my horse!

You must go...
call up the peasants.

- Ride now?
- You must!

It is dark, mud everywhere.

You will ride,

knock at the windows,
cry, "You must!"

They must all stand here by dawn...

peasants with all sorts of blades!

With scythes?

That's good!

- I'm going!
- Take this. It's a gift.

- Solid gold, what is this?
- A charm!

"Poland is not yet lost
as long as we live..."

Wrap the cord around your neck,

clutch it tight, don't let go.

Beware at the crossroads,
devils too.

Just fly.

- To the very borders!
- Do not lose the Golden Horn.

I'd rather burn in hell!

Where's my
peacock-feathered cap?

Here before
the third cock crows!

- Call the men!
- What for?

An end to misery, now we'll act!

Who's going to act?
What's it I haven't grasped?

Eagles, scythes, sabers, emblems...
Nobles - peasants, peasants - nobles...

The whole world is enchanted.

We were hidden in sordid masks!

- What has happened?
- Lie down, then, you're drunk!

Let me go, I've sworn.
I must!

- Help!
- What has happened?

- What's up?
- He is going crazy!

You - who are you?

What's left of us?

Just puppets...

vile masks, dyed in falsehood...

pictures!

There you have your atmosphere.

I pity you, and say it straight!

Lie here a while,
because you're drunk.

Hey, brothers!

To horse! Take up arms!

Hey, brothers, saddle the horses!

Hey, brothers, to your horses!

I'm not rich.

You're married now,
to whom is no matter...

It's as if you were
in another world.

Perhaps you'd rather
it was the other, that gentleman,

who wished to marry me.

The one who died?

It's getting lovelier!

You're alone?

I'm lovelier alone.

I see you have put on wings.

You've poetized the wedding
and the guests.

I've dreamed up bugbears,
a fantastic paradise.

And you've become happy.

But what of us -
we are not poets.

Don't you see a tenderness
cascading upon us?

A light of vision in our eyes
As if we knew something.

Perhaps you've turned
into angels

in this night
you've danced away.

And what next?

I wonder what an angel can do?

We'll harness the horses
and drive away, then all this...

will fade as a candle snuffed.

But who'll sound
such a tone so high?

Russia.

Austro-Hungary.

I'll give them a beating!

Scoundrels,
you should play for me!

Don't fuss about
their stupid playing.

I'll give them a beating!

You're drunk out of your mind.

Play, dog, before I get mad!

Calm down, Village Elder!

Let me tell you
something serious.

You've got to go with him.

- With him?
- The one asleep.

Where to?

- An old man?
- A 100 years old they say.

On a white horse?

White as snow or milk,
with golden trappings.

Who else saw him?

No one.

He's a humbug and you slept.

- Your man asleep?
- He fumed and fretted so!

- He said something important?
- Who can tell?

He wanted so much to go
and fight.

Perhaps that wouldn't be so bad.

And you'd have gone with him?

Where to?

How should I know?

Of all people - I should know.

Kuba, come with me.

The pictures are all gone now.

I wanted
to get lost in the crowd,

to get myself on the level,

to plunge into
this healthy world.

Stifle my individuality,

force myself into simplicity.

Well, but nature

pervaded my soul with her song.

Though I wanted to plunge deep.

But I have to come
out into the foreground.

Evviva I'arte!

Our life is worth nothing -
the cult of Bacchus and Astarte!

Bonaparte - he had flair!

It's the 2nd day of the wedding
and you can't stand on your feet?

Interesting...

Its own tone,
the music of the soul.

Hell, I can feel...

"my heart!"

A heart condition -
that's no joke.

Why do you drink so much?

It's dangerous.

Almost madness.

But it's martyrdom to live...

with this emptiness in the soul.

When I drink...

my heart hurts me and I feel it.

Then I know so many things,

understand them the Polish way.

My word, he's drunk.

If Chopin was still alive,

he'd drink.

Lie down on the sofa.

Pour the wine. We'll vanish
before they come after us.

Will they ever go away?
I want to be alone.

Silence - apres nous Le deluge!

Let them alone.
Please go now.

What a curious state
of those souls.

Mind you, first a kiss
and then a drink.

First the fall and then to live.

Have you been roused from sleep?

I had a dream,

though I did not sleep.

I only felt so strangely weak.

You were simply weak from love.

I dreamed that
in a golden coach,

I met the devil.

The devil and coach at once?

I dreamed.

I was riding in the coach

through forests and walled cities.

Where are you devils taking me?

To Poland, they said.

And where can this Poland be?
You know it, sir?

Nowhere in the world
will you find it.

- Then it's no use seeking?
- Still there is a little cage.

Put your hand
beneath your breast.

The corset's a little too tight.

- You feel it beating?
- It's only my heart.

That is where Poland is.

We only know half of ourselves.

And who knows the rest?

Where do we go in our dreams?

It's fearsome there,
and it's bad enough here.

How long can it last?

Try shooting eagles with slings!

I prefer a quiet grove...
an orchard...

where the fragrance
makes me dizzy.

- You gentlemen here?
- What's the hurry?

You're as blind as a bat.
It's not to you I come.

He's asleep.
Something important?

The scythe is.

If he needs it for his pictures,
put it in the corner.

The pictures are all over now!
All you think about is pictures.

You are very arrogant.

It's no use for us to talk!

Sure. You go one way,
we, another.

Are you asleep?
You must get up!

What's the noise?
You here?

- Hanuś!!
- She's no use here.

Why all this shouting?

Why the scythe?

It's the people rising, sir.

Why the scythe?

Piotrek, Kacper, stand there.

You've got orders
and papers or something.

Papers, orders. Whose orders?

You're supposed
to go with the peasants.

Everything's ready in Cracow.

What have you invented
overnight?

Me with you?

With this blade, yes!

With this blade.

Is this a sign?

You told us Holy Mary said

that the strength is great in us.

What does he say?
It's the play I dreamed...

What is it about?

Peasant blood and lordly wrath.

If you don't come with us now,
we'll come at you with scythes.

But there's nothing happening!

It's dawning!

We're both in our cups.
That scythe becomes you.

Who was here?

Who?

Wait, it's dawning on me.

Get out!

Someone was here, you say?

You won't stop me from entering!

My head's reeling,
I can't remember.

You're thinking hard
to cool your heart!

What do you want?

Drop these scythes
and go to bed.

Do you want to sleep with him?

You need sleep,
your heads are steaming!

You've been sowing without seed:

Poetry, verses, books!

You've adorned yourself
with ribbons,

yet you aren't there
when you're needed.

Who came here? Who?!

People heard the lyre play!

I heard it.

I heard it.

I heard too from the orchard.

But I thought it an illusion.

Someone may've
been wearing bells?

Squint, take a look

at the colors of the dawn.

All you're good for is
daydreaming.

Look outside.

We must go -
they're seeing miracles.

Someone ordered us - but what?

A ghost appeared to me at night.

- I strained my hearing.
- You say you strained your hearing?

I have heard those words before.

Strain... strain your hearing!

The nightmares left me.
There was a ghost here tonight.

It gave me orders,

watchwords too.
Said he would be back by now.

He gave a call to arms!

- Told you to go?
- No, but to wait here...

till the cock's crow.

And to strain our hearing.

The sound of a horse's hoofs!

Who is coming?

I heard something rush,

but it got lost in the orchard.

He's coming!

Look outside!

More and more!

I hear it from afar!

Quiet...

Pray to God...

- He's coming!
- Clattering! Galloping!

Must be a hundred horses.

Closer, closer...

Good heavens, I hear it!

Where?

Kneel down.

Listen, dear children!

Let it be true.

Holy Mary signing a manifesto...

She will wake thousands.

Listen, my heart's pounding.
Would that it were true.

Hey, girls!

What is this?

Are they all enchanted?
Standing as if they were asleep.

Hey, listen to me!

Listen!

Hanuś!! Mother, bridegroom!

Father!

You sir!

Sir!

I was to blow the horn...

What?

I've lost it?!

I have lost the Golden Horn!

And the cord is all that's left.

God, the cock is crowing!

To your horses, brothers!

Take up arms!

Take up arms!

The Royal Castle's awaiting you!

They hear nothing, only music.

Sleep has overcome them.

Boor, you had

a golden horn,

Peacock feathers

in your cap.

The Wind's carrying the cap away.

The horn blares in the woods.

The card's all that's left to you.

The card's all that's left to you.

All that's left to you.

All that's left to you,

The card's all that's left to you.

Translation: Jerzy Siemasz
Subtitles: Cyfrowe Repozytorium Filmowe