This one is the king of fishes that Carlos caught.
It's not the king of fishes. The king of fishes is the shark.
This is the king of fishes.
This is aunt Rosa on the bottom of the sea.
She holds a fish in her hand and is feeding it to Silvestre.
This is aunt Sara vomiting into the sea.
She got sick with the rocking of the boat.
This is Maria making a face.
This is sailor Robert Rossellini peering through a spyglass.
And what does the sailor Roberto Rossellini see?
He sees mother.
What a liar!
Yesterday it was the treasure island, today it's mother!
It's mother. Mother is the treasure island.
Maria wrote a logbook.
She doesn't let anyone read it. It's secret.
Is it true, Maria?
I'm ashamed, mother.
If you don't want us to read it, no one will.
And won't aunt Sara be angry with me?
Ask her.
Sara, will you be angry if you don't read her logbook?
No, my dear.
I like to read what you write but nobody will be angry at you.
And aunt Rosa?
Aunt Rosa never gets angry. She has a good nature.
No, love, I won't get angry.
I know why Maria doesn't want to show it.
It's not because of that! Don't be stupid!
Yes, it is. You're the stupid one.
Children... Is my son a sissy now?
I'm not a sissy but I also saw the man under the bedsheet.
She wasn't the only one.
Aunt Rosa didn't let you look at him.
I saw the ambulance with the siren wailing and the people around.
And I saw the man's feet.
What are you talking about?
- It was the black pirate. - It wasn't the black pirate.
It was the black pirate and he was dead.
It was daddy. My daddy!
Get out at once and apologize to your sister.
And you won't repeat that kind of nonsense again.
They got too much sunshine.
What's that story about?
From what we gathered, and it wasn't much,
it looks like an ordinary smuggling story with some shooting in between.
The navy seems to have intercepted, somewhere, a mysterious ship.
Not exactly the phantom ship but there wasn't a living soul on board;
the deck was scattered all over with bullet-ridden corpses.
When did that happen?
Yesterday or the day before. I don't know for sure.
So the boat was towed to Tavira's dock
to the tourists and other on-lookers delight
and handed over to the coast authorities
who immediately sealed the cargo,
feeling at a loss as for what to do with the corpses.
At last the police arrived
and is now proceeding with enquiries.
They say that in the meanwhile
the corpses roasted for hours on end under the sun.
Their removal took place, unfortunately,
at the precise moment of our arrival.
And that's all.
As you know, I don't believe much is won
from hiding from children the biological fact called death.
But after Sartawi's murder, which they scrupulously listened on the radio,
I suppose it was an overdose of murder...
I'm worried about Maria.
She's a half-orphan and will have to live with it.
It's not serious. There are plenty of fathers around.
Are there?
No. There aren't,
but it's up to you to switch off the lights upon the stage of the drama.
She'll get over it after a good night's sleep.
Do you suppose there's some sort if connection
between that story about the ship and Sartawi's death?
I don't see any but we could skim through the evening newspapers.
I was precisely going to suggest that we dined out.
My head is swimming but it seems an excellent idea.
Did you get sick aboard?
Mal de mer. I get seasick since I was a kid.
Long ago, when one still traveled by ship to Azores,
it was usual to see an enormous line of passengers leaning overboard.
One wouldn't know if they were sick with the rocking of the ship
or with the neighbor’s vomit.
"Load overboard", yelled always an imbecile enjoying the show.
Search the house!
That's how you got your eyes into that condition. Search behind the books!
We don't like to harass women and children.
We don't speak Spanish.
Galician-Portuguese resistance.
If you behave, nothing will happen to you.
Stop it.
Damned!
Stupid yourself.
And ugly. And bad.
My vase!
Nothing, chief.
Keep on searching!
You're completely fucked!
Aren't you old enough to have grown some sense in that head of yours?
I can't control myself, madam.
Where is Laura?
For some moments I was afraid of seeing a werewolf come forth.
He's not a werewolf.
Here they are.
Have they left already?
Yes. Where is Rosa?
She's repairing the damage. Everything is in a chaos.
They opened drawers, cupboards,
browsed among papers, scattered clothes everywhere,
with a special liking for the so-called underwear...
No traces of ill-treatment were detected,
which is already more than one could hope for...
The Chief was strict with regard to that...
And we had Roberto to protect us.
I must tell you your children didn't waste a second.
As soon as that idiot Stavroguine turned his back on us,
they set to work.
I'm proud of these children.
What has changed is that, in days past,
they came at dawn
and caught people half-asleep, trembling with fear.
Your children weren't educated in fear...
There's more here.
And that's what makes them somewhat strange,
almost detached,
undoubtedly fascinating.
Will it be the future tense of our present?
I'll find out what happened.
There's no need for all of us to go prying about.
What could have been?
It was the bogey exploding.
- Mother went to check. - I'll look for her.
Back to work.
Mother and aunt Rosa went to check and will tell us everything about it.
That did it to our lovely dinner.
After these emotions
we'll have to do with some scrambled eggs.
Where can Antoine, who's never around when needed, be?
There's more here, aunt.
That's enough for today.
We'll stop at Virgilio.
I was worried about you.
Is it them?
I think so.
But it's a madman tale, Laura.
I must catch some fresh air.
It's after ten and I don't know where to go to catch some fresh air.
We could go to the seashore.
I've had my fill of sea.
Another spoon full of sugar if you don't mind.
Where can Antoine be? One can't get hold of him at this hour.
I forgot to tell you: He came by yesterday, looking for you.
He didn't leave an address but he said he would come again.
He always does.
Particularly when I don't feel like it.
Returning to the subject:
First, there's an PLO leader who is shot down...
The killer has been caught.
The presumable, Laura.
The presumable.
It wasn't a isolated action.
There was premeditation and an efficiency
that presupposes complicities.
It's all together canonical:
Shooting down the bodyguard before the target.
It's in the books.
It is not an amateur's job but one of people who learned how to kill.
Roberto had nothing to do with it.
Robert, I've grasped it, has nothing to do with anything.
The sea brought him by chance
and, in your head, be might as well be Ulisses, back to Itaca.
And is he not?
That's what I was trying to tell you: Of course he is.
He's called Robert Jordan
and came straight out of one of Hemingway's novels,
as if it still was possible
to come straight out of one of Hemingway's novels.
I would prefer him to be called Robert Schumann
and to have come ashore carrying a piano on his back,
but I'm probably just trying to bring grist to my mill:
In case he disappeared
he would always have left some musical traces behind.
You're being very skeptical.
I would be very much more so if I were the mother of two children.
What would you have done in my place?
Do I have to answer now?
Besides, what have I been talking for?
The walls of this fortress
can't detain the invaders greed,
the door is frank and welcoming for whoever appears:
"Welcome whoever it is".
Remind me to have it placed at the doorway.
What am I complaining about?
Maybe about the days that make us old, and nothing else.
Could you lend me the car's keys?
I insist upon fresh air.
I'll go along
if Rosa doesn't mind to stay alone with the children.
Fear has already found better company:
It won't leave us for times to come.
They are ashamed of the light.
You must do as aunt Rosa told you and wait for them.
Bat, Bat, come down to the cane greased with tallow...
There's no need for such yelling. You'll scare off the bats.
They won't come if you don't ask gently.
Bat, bat, come down to the cane greased with tallow.
That's it. Keep asking. I'll be right back.
We went all the way round the house and we didn't see a single bat...
Angelus.
It's the prayer of Annunciation and I'm not fond of Millet.
It's also the name of a boat,
of the boat arrested at Tavira.
It says so in the newspaper.
Would you mind summing up?
"Angelus entered the Port of Lisbon more or less one month ago"
"under Holland's color. "
"Ownership was registered in the name of a Greek citizen,"
"Mr. Odysseus Onassis,"
"now suspected to be false. "
"The crew consisted of four individuals"
"whose identities have not been confirmed,"
"it being strongly suspected that they too are false. "
"The names of the crew members follow. "
Names? What names?
Nothing particularly far-fetched.
They are familiar names
that seem to have been picked up in the Tales of Thousand and One Nights.
"Angelus was moored in the Quay of Bom Sucesso"
"where it supposedly underwent a cleaning of the hull"
"and received a cargo of pharmaceutical products"
"from a company now known never to have existed. "
A variant of the miracle of the roses follows.
"An inspection of the ship's hold,"
"revealed inside the boxes,"
"- lo and behold! - "
"neatly wrapped up in sackcloth,"
"a real arsenal of war weapons. "
"Angelus left the Port of Lisbon bound for Beyrut"
"and was intercepted off Algarve's coast"
"by a corvette of the Portuguese Navy. "
"Aboard were found three male corpses"
"riddled with bullets"
"and traces testifying that a violent armed confrontation had taken place. "
"The police presumes it to be the settling of a quarrel"
"among traffickers in arms"
"and proceeds with enquiries,"
"and so on... "
So what?
Nothing.
We are thinking about the same.
I'm not thinking about anything.
Where on hell could the fourth member of the crew be hiding?
Is he drifting on open sea or, on the contrary,
did he find shelter and help on firm ground?
Isn't this the subject of our thoughts?
I'm not thinking about that;
I'm worried about Robert.
Won't you understand the difference?
I don't recall having pronounced that name.
You don't have to.
- Your logic is that of the police. - Not only, Laura.
It's also that of the public
and, probably, that of the visitors who called this afternoon too.
What does it matter?
I would like to see Rosa and your children away from this mess.
That's all I ask for and I suppose I'm not asking too much.
Again I ask you: What would you have done in my place?
Again I won't answer you: It's the only way to assure my own freedom.
We didn't speak with one another for too long, Sara.
And yet, I loved you all. I'm not guilty...
Of what?
- Of nothing. - Tell me!
Of Virgllio's death?
I want to live and not wrapped up in your bloody dreams.
One can't go back to fascism and start afresh once more.
Shit! Bloody shit!
I can't bear it anymore.
What do you do?
He says that he travels and has got a boat.
Like Sindbad's?
How was Sindbad's boat like?
It turned into a big bird and flew wherever he wanted to fly.
Uncle Robert says that his boat is like Sindbad's.
We traveled aboard the boat of Rosa's boyfriend yesterday.
- He's not my boyfriend. - Yes he is, aunt Rosa.
Get to sleep!
Ask Robert if he'll let us travel aboard his boat, aunt Rosa.
He's going to make a very dangerous trip and you children can't go along
but he'll take us all with him when he comes back.
Is uncle Robert going to kill the black pirate?
He is.
And does he promise to take us with him through the Seven Seas?
And will you bring me a little monkey?
And a parrot! To keep company to Maria Callas.
He'll bring you whatever you wish if you go to sleep at once.
I'm already sleeping!
What's this?
Uncle Robert was going after a very fast fish
and hit his head against a ship lying on the bottom of the sea.
Was uncle Robert born in the sea?
Uncle Robert was born in an apple tree.
No one is born on apple trees; only apples.
It's a long story.
- I'm listening to everything. - Tell us!
Roma, open city!
El Lobo.
Leave everything, I'll clean up later.
Everything is ready.
Robert sleeps in my room, and I sleep with the kids.
Sleep well.
Naughty but nice.
It's the hard business of living.
- I want a bilberry ice! - There aren't any.
Then...
I want a cup with chocolate and coffee icecream.
Have you got blackberry icecream?
Only strawberry, chocolate, vanilla, cream, almond and marashino.
Then...
I want mint.
A mineral water with sprinkles and a small coffee.
Where are the children?
Mother: This icecream isn't good.
Don't eat it.
Why do you eat it if you don't like it?
Why are there never bilberry icecream?
Mother, when can we go into the water?
You can go right away but don't swim out of your depth.
- Not even with uncle Robert? - Can we have icecream?
No icecream. There's cool lemonade in the bag.
Don't stay for too long under the sun.
I'm going to fly!
Aren't you coming to the beach?
I don't think so.
These much too perfect days are inclement.
I prefer the comfort of this peace.
Beautiful, the image of the children playing:
Maria and Robertino;
of Rosa bathing herself...
Is she?
Not now.
She seems to be telling something to the children.
Beautiful too, the bearing of a man who walks on the sand...
He isn't walking.
Each one of them has a movement of his own;
and yet something joins them and confounds them
with the movement of the light itself,
this animal light which quivers and vibrates
like the wings of a cicada.
I don't even have to see them.
I have just been looking through the binoculars.
I brought them close.
The image I keep of them is an image of happiness.
I have not great doubts about it.
If they question me...
Ah, if they question me,
I'll be perfectly willing to deny the nature of that image:
It's intolerable in the present times.
I brought some red wine...
It's very good.
Maria wants a starfish.
I don't want to remember you.
All my days are memories of ghosts.
There's never anything to drink in this house.
If it isn't eaten right away it will loose the zest.
Dinner is served!
You children eat right here.
The fish-stew has lots of pepper in it and isn't good for your bellies.
Where is Laura?
Miss Laura, it had to be this very day,
has left some while ago and told me not to expect her for dinner.
God bless her!
Take me away with you, very far away.
I see you made a night of it.
You've already got there your food.
But I fancy you aren't hungry.
Are you in a hurry? Won't you even say good morning?
Good morning, senhora Amelia.
Good morning, madam. Do you want me to make you some tea?
That's filthy!
It's not filthy, it's a mosquito.
Don't make so much noise.
He dropped a mosquito into my milk.
What doesn't kill you is good for you.
Do you think that's reasonable?
Uncle Robert eats lizards.
Then eat the mosquito. He was in the desert and had nothing else to eat.
- There are some who eat stones. - And the sole of their shoes...
I'll drink this one.
We all know Maria's a saint.
After they've eaten, the mosquitoes belly becomes red.
I looked at the mosquito through aunt Sara's microscope.
He looked like a hairy monster.
If the mosquito is plunged into the milk,
the mosquito will turn pink.
Thus, the mosquito becomes less repellent,
quod erat demonstrandum. - What redeems you is being funny.
The lady should take the children to the toad-hole in Castro Marim.
- What's a toad-hole? - It's a swamp.
With toads?
Whit toads and frogs and leeches and lots of vermin.
And very pretty birds.
Many tourists go there to take pictures of the royal heron.
Do you know what a royal heron is?
It looks like those flamingoes you saw at the Zoo, you remember?
We know.
The flamingo is that pink bird
with big legs and a long neck
who sleeps on one leg only with its head under the wing.
That's it. Some call it a crane.
In days past they came in the Autumn, in big flocks.
Now only one or two can be seen.
But no one takes the picture of what there are lots of:
Gnats and mosquitoes.
It's a place of fevers, one of the most disgraced.
How is your son?
He's a heavy drinker. There's nothing one can do.
Good morning, everybody.
Is there any coffee left?
Yes there is, miss. I'm heating it.
Are you still coming with us to the beach?
Of course I am.
And what about the trip to the toad-hole?
I suppose that's all.
- The milk is missing. - It's not necessary.
You were about to forget the honey.
I don't want to see anyone ever again!
They came to fetch Roberto!
I won't let you go.
I would have liked to drink a cup of tea with you.
I only wanted to say goodbye.
I don't know what else to say.
Have a good trip, mister Roberto.
What did he say?
That he would like to have a mother like you.
How nice...
Ship in sight!
It's the Angelus!
Uncle Robert!
We'll have to learn how to use up the remaining unhappiness.
Subtitling Gil Martins / CRISTBET, Lda.
Ripped by: SkyFury