The Virgin Spring (1960) - full transcript

Set in beautiful 14th century Sweden, it is the sombre, powerful fable of wealthy land-owning parents whose daughter, a young virgin, is brutally raped and murdered by goat herders after her half sister has invoked a pagan curse. By a bizarre twist of fate, the murderers ask for food and shelter from the dead girl's parents, who, discovering the truth about their erstwhile lodgers, exact a chilling revenge.

THE VIRGIN SPRING

Adapted from a 13th-century Ballad by
ULLA ISAKSSON

Cinematography by
SVEN NYKVIST

Directed by
Ingmar BERGMAN

Odin, come.

Odin, come.

Come to my aid.

Heavenly Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
with all your hosts of angels,

guard us this day and always
from the devil's snares.

Lord, let not
temptation, shame,

nor danger befall
thy servants this day.



It is Friday,
the day of our Lord's agony.

So help me God,

I nearly stepped on them
out there in the dark.

You poor thing,

live out your wretched little life,

the way God allows
all of us to live.

Where were you all night?

If you don't care where you sleep,

you could at least
come back for the milking.

instead I had to run around
on these poor legs.

Jesus and Mary, you're a sight.
What's wrong?

What's wrong?
Nothing more than the usual -

that bastards beget bastards.

Serves you right,
the way you behave,



spitting and snarling
like a wildcat.

You should thank God
on your bare knees for his mercy.

To come to a farm like this
and stay in this house

like a child of the family.

But you are, and always will be,
a savage child.

The milk is still on the porch!

You will have to ride to church
with the candles for the Virgin Mary.

- Me?
- Yes.

- isn't Karin to take them?
- Karin's not well today.

She will sleep through morning mass
and then feel just fine.

I think she has a fever.
Her skin was so warm.

She certainly burned with fever
at the dance last night.

Watch your tongue!

I'm not afraid my daughter
will walk in your filthy footsteps.

You two have always been
as different as the rose and the thorn.

You've always pricked others
and made them suffer!

You can't help yourself.

We should throw you out, after
the mess you've gotten yourself into.

Lord, bless this,
our daily bread. Amen.

Where's Karin?

Shouldn't she be leaving for church
with the candles for the Virgin?

Karin's not feeling well today.

She didn't seem sick last night.
She's fond of sleeping away the morning.

Nevertheless, she's sick now.

She can't suddenly be so sick
that she can't ride to church.

Frida will have
to take the candles.

You know tradition says a virgin
must take the candles to church.

You're always so concerned
with discipline and duty

when it comes to Karin.

And you're always so soft and weak
when it comes to her.

She's the only child I have left.

All the more reason
to raise her properly.

I had bad dreams last night.

You shouldn't practice
such harsh penance at night.

Now send Ingeri to wake Karin.

I will go myself.

Yes, go and put some life
into that loafer.

Ingeri will have to prepare
a lunch for her.

Put some cheese
in between the wheat cakes.

And some mutton too.

Are you sick, Karin?

No, not sick.

Just sleepy.

Can't I have
breakfast in bed today?

Father says you're to get up at once
and take the candles to church.

No.

If you're not well enough,
Frida has to go.

- I'm not sick.
- Then you have to go.

Then I want to wear
the yellow shift.

My child,
it's the middle of the week.

Then I won't go.

You're behaving like a little child.

If I would used that tone of voice
with my parents at your age,

I would have gotten a good thrashing
and nothing to eat.

Then give me a thrashing
and nothing to eat.

Give me berries with my bread
instead of butter.

You know all too well I can't be
hard on you, though I ought to be.

You laugh,

but Father's angry,

and one day
you will bring shame down upon me.

Get out my yellow silk shift,

and my Sunday skirt
and blue cape.

Then I will be happy,

and you will be happy,
and Father as well.

Mother, I will ride to church
with such dignity,

and Blackie will raise his hooves gently,
like in a pilgrim's procession.

I will look neither right nor left
but straight ahead,

thinking of the candles
and of God's holy mother.

The white stockings too,

and the blue shoes
with the pearls.

This is certainly no everyday shift!

Fifteen maidens sewed this.

Calm down.

Was it really 15,
all at one time?

Yes.

Come sit down
and I will comb your hair.

No, I will wear my hair down,

since I have
these fine clothes on.

If you always get your way,
you will give the devil such joy

that the saints will punish you
with boils and toothaches.

Why are you always
talking about the devil?

Father never does.

Because the devil
seduces the innocent

and seeks to destroy goodness
before it can blossom.

I always say my prayers, Mother.

Who did you dance with
last night?

I danced

with him,

him

and him.

Why do you want to know?

I had such wicked dreams last night.

What did you dream, Mother?

I wish I had dreams too.

Big, wonderful dreams.

But I never do.

Now the skirts, Mother.

The blue one,
and the bright one with gold threads.

Pull harder,

or it won't puff out
the way it should.

You forgot the necklace.

Leave the necklace for Sunday.
This is quite enough already.

You're in my light.

That's your father.
Now he's angry.

Sick, are you?
Mother said something to that effect.

Do I look sick to you?

Pale and frail and ill?

Is this proper,
sleeping past sunrise?

Father, when I get to church,
I will kiss Father Erik's hand

and beg forgiveness
for not arriving in time for matins.

"Mother was sick," I will say.

"And Father was sick,
and Frida was sick,

so they didn't wake me.

And the candles weren't yet dipped,

and Blackie wasn't yet shod."

I will ride into the mountains
with this naughty girl,

and I will say,

"I won't have such a daughter.

Imprison her in the mountains
for seven years

until she's been tamed.

Then I will come
and take her home again...

maybe."

Let Ingeri come to church, Father.
She never gets away from the farm.

It is a shame
it's such a long way to church.

A woman like you no doubt needs
a confessional closer at hand.

Says the man who had to flee
the country to save his hide.

I know all about you, Professor.

Now, now.

A bird on the wing finds something,
while those who sit still only find death.

I've seen
both women and churches.

- What were the churches like?
- Tall as the sky.

And big.

Not of wood,
but of mortar and stone.

With windows
in every color of the rainbow.

You get to come
to church too, Ingeri.

Father promised.

Now be on your way,
or you won't get there until nightfall.

Hurry up, Ingeri.

Drink some warm ale.

It is a long journey,
and you've eaten nothing.

I don't want it. Give it to Ingeri.
She's coming along.

- When was that decided?
- Father said so just now.

You could at least
give me a farewell kiss.

Christ our lord,
bless this young life.

These cheese cakes
and candles

are for Father Erik from me.

When you hand them to him,
give him my best wishes

and tell him they're for
"you know what."

And he should say
five Our Fathers and 15 Hail Marys.

So lovely an apple orchard I know

A maiden with virtues so dear

Her hair like spun gold does flow

Her eyes like the heavens so clear

The streams flow so merrily

All under the verdant trees

In springtime's breeze

The little bird, he soars so high

And rides the wind on his wing

It is such work, such work to fly

And over high mountains to spring

The streams flow so merrily

All under the verdant trees

In springtime's breeze

Does the baby hurt you, Ingeri?
What's the matter?

You will learn for yourself one day.

Then I will be married,
and mistress of my house with honor.

We will see about your honor

when a man takes your waist
or strokes your neck.

No man will get me to bed
without marriage.

And if he meets you in the pasture
and pulls you down behind a bush?

I will fight my way free.

But he's stronger than you.

If you're on your way to matins,
you're too late.

But better to bloom on the road
than wither in church.

I'm taking candles to church.

I see.
In the Holy Virgin's honor,

you've bedecked
and bejeweled yourself

like a bride for her groom.

No, because it's such nice weather,
and because Mother was against it.

Not because I expected
to meet you.

Thank you for last night, Karin.

- There's nothing to thank me for.
- Oh, isn't there?

No, and you know that
just as well as I.

What is it, Ingeri?

I was in the barn last night.
I saw you two.

I wanted to speak to him
about you,

to see if there might be help
for you and the child.

He probably said if you offered him
your mouth, there would be help.

and if you rolled with him in the hay,
there would be even more!

You smiled at him

and took his hand
in the dance.

I danced with anyone
who offered me his hand.

Forgive me for slapping you.

Don't ask me for forgiveness!

- Let's turn back.
- Why? We must get to church.

I will take the candles
and explain to Father Erik.

Why should you?
Mother and Father wouldn't like that.

The forest is so dark!
I can't go on!

Don't cry so hard.
You could hurt the child.

Are the young maidens
frightened of the forest?

I'm not frightened.
I'm going to church.

May she rest in your cottage a while
until I come back?

Look here.
This is enough for both of you.

Did you think I was going
to slap you again?

Are you in labor?

Worse than that.

Come, I can help.

Sit down.

It is been a long time since anyone sat
with me in the seat of honor.

What's your name?

Nowadays I have no name.

This is a quiet, lonely place.

You're a long way
from neighbors.

I hear what I want to hear

and see what I want to see.

I hear what men whisper in secret

and see what they think
no one sees.

You can hear it yourself,
if you wish.

Just listen.

What's that pounding outside?

Three dead men riding north.

It is been a long time since a woman
made my chair narrower for me.

Here is a cure
for your anguish.

Here is a cure for your woe.

Blood, course no more.

Fish, stop still in the brook...

and you, eagle, in the sky.

Here is the power.

You've taken human blood.

You've made an offering to Odin.

I recognized you at once
when I saw you on the path,

by your eyes,
your mouth, your hands.

But you're afraid.

You mustn't be.

I will give you strength.

What a funny little mouth harp.

I inherited it from my father,
who inherited it from his,

who inherited it from his.

May I please see?

Who are you?

Three brothers who lost
both father and mother too early in life.

Who takes care of you?

We're herdsmen in the forest.

We drink from the creek
and eat roots from the earth.

Mother gave me a lunch sack
before I left.

- My brother says -
- Is your brother mute?

Evil men cut his tongue
out of his throat.

No!

But I understand him.

He says only if the proud maiden
will keep us company

can we accept such a gift.

I must ride to church
with the Holy Mother's candles.

For matins?

I'm too late for that.
I overslept this morning.

But if matins are over,
there's no great hurry.

And if your dear mother made
a lunch for her proud maiden,

she meant for her to eat.

My brother says there's
a nice glade warmed by the sun,

if only the proud maiden
would join us there.

O blessed Jesus,
God the Father's son,

you are the living bread
that from heaven comes.

You bless me
with this bodily bread

and save my soul
from eternal death.

My brother's very curious:
Where is the proud maiden's farm?

It is east of the mountain
and west of the forest,

and so large that you must press
your neck hard against your back

to see the battlements.

The proud maiden
must be a king's daughter.

Father wears silk garments every day,
and a golden helmet,

and his lance flashes
like gold in the sun.

And Mother's key ring is so heavy,
she can't wear it on her belt.

A little maid follows behind her all day,
carrying it on a pillow.

And you three could be
enchanted princes

under a wood nymph's spell.

And the goats could be bears
and wolves that she has transformed.

My brother says the proud maiden
has such white hands.

Because princesses needn't
do the washing or make fires.

My brother says the proud maiden
has such a pretty neck.

To make a princess's gold necklace
shine all the brighter.

My brother says the proud maiden
has such a narrow waist.

Cut this up
and we can all have some.

But perhaps you have no knife?

These look like
Simon of Snollsta's marks.

I'm on my way to church
with the Virgin's candles.

Stay here and watch the goats
till we come back.

Do as I say,
or you know what will happen.

If you have something to say,
step forward and speak up.

We have nothing to say

except that the night is cold
and the road long.

Where are you from?

The north.
The northwest.

How has the winter been
up there?

It is been hard,
and there's been much sickness.

The people are faint with hunger
and can hardly leave their cottages,

while the cows sink to their knees
in their stalls.

So I've heard.

You've had a crippling winter.

Where are you headed?
- We seek work further south.

You may sleep in the manor hall.
There will be frost tonight.

Good evening.

We met the master in the yard
and he invited us in.

Sit there until he comes.

Those shoes have been
through a lot.

A day can start out beautifully
yet end in misery.

Rarely have I seen a morning
so full of promise as this morning.

The sun shone in all its fairness
and made you forget winter's rages.

My legs wanted
to dance for joy,

but before nightfall
she lay dead.

I saw the May Queen herself
ride into the sun,

but she never returned.

O blessed Jesus,
God the Father's son,

you are the living bread

that from heaven comes.

You bless me
with this bodily bread

and save my soul
from eternal death.

- Did you finish?
- Yes.

The northern pasture
has been fertilized and plowed.

My father used to say,
"Feed the clay heavy, the sand light."

Please forgive
my poor little brother.

Is he like this often?

Only when we've been starving
for a long time.

Rub his temples and hands
with salt and vinegar,

and place a warm wooden lid
on his belly.

Thank you kindly,
but there's no need.

The less fuss made,
the quicker it passes.

There will be work
here on the farm.

But we can discuss that tomorrow.

You can keep the fire burning tonight.
It will be bitterly cold.

Good night.

Come.

Come on.

Good night.

You say your prayers, don't you,

even if no one
keeps after you?

You poor thing.

But God is merciful,

more merciful than you think.

Say your prayers properly tonight,

and don't forget them
from now on.

You see how the smoke trembles
up in the roof hole?

As if whimpering and afraid.

Yet it's only going out
into the open air,

where it has the whole sky
to tumble about in.

But it doesn't know that.

So it cowers and trembles
under the sooty ridge of the roof.

People are the same way.

They worry and tremble
like leaves in a storm...

because of what they know

and what they don't know.

You...

shall cross a narrow plank,

so narrow you can't find
your footing.

Below you roars a great river.

It is black
and wants to swallow you up.

But you pass over it unharmed.

Before you lies a chasm

so deep you can't see
the bottom.

Hands grope for you,

but they can't reach you.

At last you stand
before a mountain of terror.

It spews fire like a furnace,

and a vast abyss
opens at its feet.

A thousand colors blaze there:

copper and iron,
blue vitriol and yellow sulfur.

Flames dazzle and flash
and lash at the rocks.

And all about,
men leap and writhe, small as ants,

for this is the furnace

that swallows up
murderers and evildoers.

But at the very moment
you think you're doomed,

a hand shall grasp you
and an arm circle around you,

and you will be taken far away...

where evil no longer
has power over you.

If Karin doesn't
come home tonight,

she will surely return tomorrow.

Calm down, Märeta.

How can you tell me
to calm down?

That's all you ever say.

What would have become of us
if I would always done like you?

Never troubled or worried,
never praying to God.

Open your hands.
Märeta, open your hands.

I know you're worried about Karin.

She's all I have!

But she's stayed in the village
overnight without permission before.

She's all I have.

She's the only one I have left.

They struck the boy.

I thought I heard
the boy scream.

It was just an owl in the forest.
We've heard it all night.

This silk shift

and what's in this bag
is all we have left of our sister.

She died at Candlemas.

It is a precious memento,

but need knows no law,

and we thought we would
offer it to you.

We see you are a lady who understands
the value of beautiful things...

and this is what
our sister treasured most.

It is a bit torn and spotted,

but look at the embroidery.

It is surely the work
of nine young maidens.

Skillful hands like yours will know
how to make it like new again.

I must ask my husband

what a fitting reward would be
for such a valuable garment.

Now see that
you get some rest too.

What's the matter, Märeta?

The herdsmen
offered it to me for sale.

It is Karin's.

There's blood on it.

What are you going to do?

First I will put the crossbar
on the outer door.

It is already done.

Will you take
the farmhands with you?

Be careful!

Tell me what you know.

Kill me first.

My guilt is greater than theirs.

I willed it to happen.

Ever since I became with child
I've hated her.

The very day I prayed for it,
he did it.

It was him and me,
not the herdsmen.

He possessed them,

and they threw themselves on her
like devils, all at once.

They fell upon her
and held her down...

and they took her.

You saw it?

I was in the forest.

I saw it...

and willed it to happen.

I picked up a rock
to throw at them,

but I let it fall.

And when it was over,

they beat her to death
with a club.

I saw that too!

Heat up the bath.

I will get some birch branches.

Bring me the butcher's knife.

God forgive me
for what I've done.

We must find Karin.

I loved her too much, Töre,
more than God himself.

When I saw how she favored you,
I began to hate you.

It is me God meant to punish by this.
I bear the guilt.

You are not alone, Märeta,
and God alone knows where guilt lies.

You saw it.

God, you saw it.

The death of an innocent child,
and my vengeance.

You allowed it to happen.

I don't understand you.

I don't understand you.

Yet still I ask your forgiveness.

I know no other way
to make peace with myself

than with my own hands.

I don't know
any other way to live.

I promise you, God...

here, by the dead body
of my only child,

I promise
that as penance for my sin,

I shall build you a church.

On this spot I shall build it.

Out of mortar and stone...

and with these very hands.

O Lord, receive my soul

And grant me everlasting peace

Grant me everlasting peace

At your side, O Lord