Having reached the end of my sinner's life...
my hair now white...
I prepare to leave on this parchment my testimony...
as to the wondrous and terrible events...
I witnessed in my youth...
at the end of the year of 1327.
May God grant me the wisdom and grace...
to be the faithful chronicler of the happenings that took place...
in a remote abbey in the dark north of ltaly.
An abbey whose name it may seem, even now...
bias andprudent to omit.
THE NAME OF THE ROSE
May my hand not tremble now that I start...
to relieve the past and revive the feelings of uneasiness...
that opressed my heart as we entered the battlements.
Should we tell him?
No. He will look in the wrong places.
But...
what if he learns it of his own account?
You're overestimating his talents.
There's only one authority capable of investigating such matters.
The holly lnquisition.
What's your opinion, venerable Jorge?
Dear brothers...
I leave such worldly matters to younger men.
Adso?
-Yes, master. -To command nature...
one must learn to obey it, huh?
So, return to the court, turn the building on your left...
enter the court on you right. You'll find the place you're in need of...
behind the third arch.
But you told me you'd never been to this abbey.
When we arrived, I saw a brother making this way so hazily.
But he left more slowly, with an air of content.
Thank you, master.
On behalf of the Benedict Order..
I'm honored to welcome you and your Franciscan brothers...
to our abbey.
The other delegates have arrived?
Ubertino de Casale has been here for some weeks...
the others are due tomorrow.
You must be very tired after your long journey.
Not particularly.
You're not in need of anything?
No, thank you.
Well... then l...
I beech you peace.
I'm sorry to see that one of your brothers...
has recently gone to God.
Yes, a terrible loss.
Brother Adelmo was one of our finest illuminates.
-Not, Adelmo of Otranto? -You knew him?
No, but I knew and admired his work.
His humor and comic images were almost infamous.
But he was said to be very young.
Ah, yes! Very young indeed.
An accident, no doubt.
Yes, as you say, an accident.
Well... that is l...
Brother William...
may I speak to you candidly?
You seem anxious to do so.
When I heard you were coming to our abbey...
I thought it was an answer to my prayers.
I said: "He's a man who has the knowledge both of the human spirit...
and of the wilds of the evil one."
Brother Adelmo's death has caused much...
spiritual uneasy upon my flock.
This is my novice, Adso.
The youngest son of the Baron de Melk.
Please, do continue.
We found the body after a heavy storm...
horribly mutilated...
cast against a rock in front of the tower...
under a window that was... How should I say this?
-which was... -which was found closed.
-Somebody told you? -lf it was opened...
You'd not have mentioned spiritual uneasy.
-He'd have fallen. -Brother William...
the window can't be opened...
nor was the glass shattered.
There's no access through the roof above.
I see. As you can't find a natural explanation...
the monks suspect the presence of supernatural forces.
I need the help of an acute man such as you.
Acute in uncovering and prudent, if necessary...
in covering up before the papal delegates arrive.
You know I no longer deal in such matters.
I'm reluctant to burden you with my dilemma, but...
unless I can tranquilize my flock...
I have no alternative but turn to the lnquisition.
That is Ubertino de Casale...
one of the greatest spiritual leaders of our Order.
Come.
Many revere him as a living saint...
but others would have him burnt as a heretic.
His book on the poverty of the clergy...
isn't favorite reading in the papal palace.
So, now he lives in hiding.
Dear Franciscans...
you must leave this place at once.
The devil's roaming this abbey!
Ubertino, it's, William.
Willian of Baskerville.
William is dead.
William... my son...
forgive me.
We lost trace ofyou for so long!
I tried hard to be forgotten.
When we heard of your troubles...
I prayed to our Virgin for a miracle.
Your prayers met with a favorable response.
This is my young novice, Adso de Melk.
His father has entrusted me his education and wealth.
Let him out of here at once! Haven't you heard the devil...
is hurling beautiful boys out of windows?
There was something feminine...
something diabolical... about the young one who died.
He had the eyes of a girl...
seeking into course with the devil.
Beware of this place.
The beast is still among us.
I can sense him... now... here...
within these very walls. I'm afraid, William.
For you, for me. For the outcome of this debate...
My son! The times we're living!
Let's not frighten our young friend.
She's beautiful, isn't she?
When a female... by nature so perverted...
becomes sublime by holiness...
then she can be the noble vehicle of grace.
Beautiful are the breasts... which feed only one baby.
-I don't like this place. -Really?
I find it thrillingly. Come.
We must not allow ourselves to be influenced...
by irrational rumors of the antichrist.
Let's instead exercise our brains...
and try to solve this enigma.
May you receive more in Heaven...
for what you've given in Earth.
My master trusted Aristotle, the Greek philosopher...
and in his remarkable logic intelligence.
Unhappily, my fears were not...
mere phantoms of my youthful imagination.
A rather dark end for such a brilliant illuminate.
Another generous donation by the Church to the poor.
What if it wasn't that tower he fell from...
but somewhere over there and the body rolled all the way down here?
No devil needed anymore.
There's more blood here.
That's where he fell from.
He jumped.
-Are you paying attention? -Yes, he jumped.
Jumped? You mean that he committed suicide?
Why else would someone go up there in the middle of a rainstorm?
Not to admire the landscape.
Perhaps someone murdered him.
And then towed all the way up there with the body?
Much easier to get rid of it through that small door.
My dear Adso. It seems elementary.
Suicide?
Do you think this is a place abandoned by God?
Have you ever known a place where God would've felt at home?
We pray, oh, mighty God, that there are no grounds...
for suspecting the presence of an evil spirit among us...
either of this world or another.
We praise our Lord that the debate...
we are so greatly honored to host...
may now proceed without a shadow of fear.
We also praise oh mighty for sending us brother William...
whose experience and previous duties...
although onerous to him... has been of such service to us here.
May serenity and spiritual peace...
reign once more in our hearts.
A monk must be quiet.
He mustn't speak what he's thinking...
until he's asked.
A monk mustn't laugh.
That's what fools are for...
who raise their voices in laughter.
Master, if I may ask what...
onerous duties was the abbot talking about?
Were you not always a monk?
Even monks have past, Adso.
Now, try to sleep.
Just...
Yes, master.
There's sadness in wisdom.
The one who increases his knowledge...
also increases his suffering.
A calamity!
It was a calamity!
Father! A tragedy in the pigpen!
Come! Come quickly!
This one, I admit, didn't commit suicide.
Water!
Venancius, the Greek translator!
I'm to blame. Had I not been so eager to believe your convenient explanation...
this second tragedy might've been prevented.
I'm convinced brother Adelmo took his own life.
Whether this death is connected with it. I intend to find.
"After the heavy storm, with the second trumpet..."
"the sea became blood."
-And hold... there's blood here! -The prophecy of the Apocalypse.
"With the third trumpet, a burning star..."
"will fall in fountains of water'
The devil is here!
Grated stem bistort for treating diarrhea.
As for onions, administered in small quantities...
warm and moist, they help to prolong the male erection.
In those who haven't taken our vows, naturally.
Do you apply arsenic in many circumstances?
Yes, indeed.
This effective remedy for nervous disorders.
If taken in small doses.
And what if not in so small doses?
Death.
What was his function here?
He was our finest translator of Greek.
Entirely devoted to the works of Aristotle.
Was he in friendly terms with the handsome Adelmo?
Yes. They worked together in the escritoire.
But in a brotherly way understand? Not like...
I mean... flesh can be tempted according to nature...
or against nature.
And they weren't allowed to this position... you see!
Penitengiazite!
Watch out for Satan, who comes to know your soul.
Death is supreme.
Contemplating my sanctuary?
There, we have the devil.
As ugly as Salvatore.
My little brother, penitenziagite.
"Penitenziagite"?
I didn't say that.
You said "penitenziagite". I heard.
Noble father, "magnifico"!
I don't have a good rhetoric. I said "penitence".
I'm a monk. Saint Benedict! Saint Benedict!
Salvatore, come here.
Master, what language was he speaking?
All languages and none.
And what was the word you both repeated?
"Penitenziagite"?
-What does it mean? -That the hunchback, undoubtedly...
was once a herectic.
"Penitenziagite" was the rally cry of Dolcinites.
Dolcinites? Who were they?
Those who believed in the poverty of Christ.
So do we, Franciscans.
But they also declared everyone must be poor.
So, they slaughtered the rich.
You see, Adso...
the step between ecstatic vision and sinful frenzy...
is all too brief.
So, could he not have killed the translator?
No. Fat bishops and wealthy priests...
were more to the taste of the Dolcinites...
not a specialist of Aristotle.
But you're right, we must keep the mind open.
We're fortunate to have such a snowy ground here.
It's the parchment on which the criminal, unwillingly...
writes his autograph.
What do you mean from these footprints here?
They're twice as deep as the others, Master.
Good! And thus we may conclude...
That the man was very heavy.
Precisely! And why was he very heavy?
Because... he was very fat?
Or because he was carrying another man.
Let's commit the autograph of this sole to our memory.
But the footprints lead away from the jar, in this direction.
Adso, you're discounting the possibility...
that the man was walking backwards, dragging the body...
into the furrows created by the heels.
Where did the erudite Greek translator...
meet the anonymous author of his death?
Brother librarian...
perhaps you'd permit us to examine the work of the two unfortunates...
who were so distressingly gone to God.
-Your request's most unusual. -As are the circumstances of their deaths.
Brother Adelmo sat there.
Eyeglasses in frames.
A donkey teaching the Scriptures to the bishops.
The pope as a fox. And the abbot as a monkey.
He had a daring talent for comic images.
A monk must not laugh! Only fools laugh for nothing!
I trust my words didn't offend you brother William...
but I heard them laughing at unlaughable things.
You, Franciscans, however, belong to an Order...
where merriment is viewed with indulges.
Yes, it's true. Saint Francis was much disposed to laughter.
Laughter's a devil's squint which deforms the face...
and makes men look like monkeys.
Monkeys do not laugh. Laughter's particular to man.
As a sin. Christ never laughed.
Can you be so sure?
There's nothing in the Scriptures to say that He did.
There's nothing there to say He didn't.
Even the saints also employed comedy...
to ridicule the enemies of the faith.
For example, when the pagans plunged Saint Maurus...
into the boiling water, he complained...
that his bath was cold. The Sultan put his hand in...
-and burnt himself. -A saint...
immersed in boiling water doesn't play childish tricks.
He restrains his cries and suffers for the truth.
And yet, Aristotle devoted his second book of poetics to comedy...
as an instrument of truth.
Have you read this work?
Of course not. It's been lost for centuries.
No, it's not! It was never written!
Because Providence doesn't want futile things glorified.
-That I must contempt. -Enough!
This abbey is overshadowed by grief. Yet you would...
intrude on our sorrows with idle banter!
Forgive me, Venerable Jorge. My remarks were truly out of place.
Which was the Greek translator's desk?
This one.
Come, Adso.
-What'd you deduce from that visit? -That we're not meant to laugh in there.
But you noticed how few books there were on the escritoire's shelves?
All those scriveners, copyists, translators, researchers...
thinkers... Where are the books needed for their work...
and for which this abbey is famous?
Where are the books?
-Are you testing me? -What do you mean?
With all due respect...
it seems that whenever you ask me a question, you already have the answer.
Do you know where the books are?
No, but I've faith that that tower contains something other than air.
Did you see the little door the librarian closed as we came in?
That leads to the library?
Master! Quick! I have him!
-Stop! Enough. -He tried to kill us.
Salvatore!
Please, don't talk to the abbot about his past.
He's innocent of the deaths in this abbey. I swear it.
Brother Remigio, my price is some information.
I couldn't comprehend why my master so quickly dismissed...
my suspicions for the heretic hunchback...
and why it was so urgent that we visited the tower.
I assumed he couldn't resist the temptation...
to penetrate the library and look at the books.
No lock. Just as I thought, it must be bolted from inside.
How do we get in?
Obviously, there must be another entrance.
Let's see what the moon-faced assistant librarian...
was trying to conceal this morning.
Tiny Greek letters.
Perhaps written by an ant with ink feet.
"Have fun with the defects of vulgar people."
Written with lemon juice.
Sagittarius... Sun... Mercury...
Scorpion.
It's a zodiac code... giving directions...
but to where?
Who's there? Who's there?
-My magnifying glasses... -They were in that book.
You go that way.
Come on out, you little bitch!
I know you're here. I can smell you.
What's the matter with you? Are you afraid of me?
I'll find you.
Who was she?
Who was this creature that rose like the dawn...
bewitched as the moon, radiant as the sun..
terrible as an army poised for battle?
Good evening, Salvatore.
This is where you catch them?
Here they're "piu grassi", bigger.
Do you eat them?
-Do you like? -Thank you, no.
"lch bin" good catholic.
As you're a good Christian, you must tell me.
So Adelmo gave the parchment to Berengar?
No. To the trans... tran...
Translator! Venancius, the black monk.
What happened then?
Master! Here, quick! I found another one.
Where are your wits, boy?
Have you ever met anyone with a rib cage large enough to accommodate...
a heart of those dimensions?
This is the heart of an ox.
One of the monks probably gave it to that peasant girl...
in exchange for her favors.
A girl? What?
The one I saw out of here.
-He must've been a very ugly monk. -Why ugly?
If he'd been young and beautiful, she'd have blessed him...
with her carnal favors for nothing.
Whatever happened in this dreadful kitchen...
has no bearing on our investigations.
The hunchback's convinced me that brother Berengar...
the assistant librarian, is the key to the whole enigma.
-What did you say? -Nothing, master.
Good.
Master?
There's something I must tell you.
I know.
Then, you'll hear my confession?
I'd rather you told me first as a friend.
Master...
Have you ever been...
in love?
In love?
-Many times. -You were?
Of course. Aristotle, Ovid, Virgil...
No. I meant with a...
Are you not confusing love with lust?
Am l?
I don't know.
I want to make her own good.
I want her to be happy. I want to save her from poverty.
Oh, dear!
-Why "oh, dear"? -You are in love.
Is that bad?
For a monk it presents certain problems.
But doesn't St Thomas Aquinas praise love above all the virtues?
Yes, the love of God, Adso. Love of God!
And the love of... woman?
Of woman, Thomas Aquinas knew very little.
The Scriptures are very clear. Proverbs warns us.
Woman takes possession of a man's precious soul.
Ecclesiastes tells us:
"More bitter than death is woman."
Yes, but what do you think, master?
Of course, I don't have the benefit of your experience...
but I find it difficult to convince myself that...
God'd have introduced such a being into creation...
without endowing her with some virtues.
How peaceful life'd be without love, Adso.
How safe... how tranquil...
and how dull.
God, You've guided us to this refuge...
of spiritual peace because you wish for reconciliation...
as much as we, Franciscans.
Let's go, brothers!
Brother Berengar?
He's probably hiding somewhere...
with the book and my magnifying glasses.
Brother Berengar?
Master, look! The door!
Brother Malaquias!
I was looking for brother Berengar. Is he here?
No.
I see. Do you know where we might find him?
No.
Or is he perhaps upstairs, in the library?
No.
I'm curious to see the library for myself. May I do so?
No.
Why not?
It's strict order of the abbot.
No one's permitted to enter the library...
other than myself and my assistant.
I see. Thank you again.
Maybe something's happened to him.
Maybe we'll find him in the water.
-What? -The third trumpet...
as Ubertino said. The book of Revelation.
That's not the book we're after.
Is it a chicken for you? It's more like a sparrow.
Franciscans.
Welcome to our abbey, brother Michele.
And your fellow Franciscan delegates.
Get in the line like the others!
Salvatore, let him go!
This is Cuthbert of Winchester...
one of our most esteemed Franciscan guests.
Come, your grace. We have a very urgent matter to discuss.
The abbot and his colleagues believe...
the devil's at work within these walls.
He is!
The only evidence I see of the devil...
is everyone's desire to see him at work.
What if Ubertino's right and you're wrong?
This debate's crucial to us all.
we suspect the Pope wants to crash our Order.
-And declare us heretics. -Yes, and declare us heretics.
I only have one brother to question and the matter's resolved.
William, we place our trust in you.
I pray God that you don't abuse it.
Brother William.
Did you find a book in Greek?
I was right.
So was the book of Revelation.
-We must talk at once. -lndeed, we must.
And I have much to tell.
Just as he and I've examined this corpse.
Lime leaves in the bath are used to alleviate pain.
He was left-handed?
Brother Berengar was inverted in many ways.
Are there other left-handed brothers at the abbey?
Not that I know.
Ink stains.
He didn't write with his tongue, I presume.
-A few lines in Greek. -Yes, written by Venancius.
Notes from the book he was reading...
just before he died. You see how the calligraphy changes?
From this point on, he was dying. And what can we conclude from that?
A spot of blue paint.
yes, but a unique spot of blue...
blended by your finest illuminate, brother Adelmo...
who had this parchment before Venancius.
How do we know that? Because those notes overrun...
Adelmo's blue spots, and not vice-versa.
Brother William...
this abbey is enshrouded in a terrifying mystery.
Yet, I detect nothing, in your obscure citation...
that sheds light upon it.
Adso, the light.
Someone was in great pains to conceal a secret...
of the first magnitude.
The calligraphy's, without question, left-handed.
The only left-handed member ofyour community is... or rather was...
brother Berengar, the assistant librarian.
What kind of secret knowledge would he not have privilege?
-I feel you're about to tell me. -Books. Restricted books.
Spiritually dangerous books.
Everyone here knew of the assistant's passion...
for handsome boys. When the beautiful Adelmo...
wanted to read such a forbidden book...
Berengar offered him the key to its whereabouts...
inside that parchment...
in exchange for unnatural caresses.
Enough, William!
Adelmo submitted to Berengar's lustful advances.
But afterwards wracked, by remorse he wandered desperate...
in the graveyard, where he met the Greek translator.
-How do you know? -There was a witness.
The hunchback...
he sawAdelmo giving this parchment to Venancius...
and running towards the small tower...
and hurling himself out of the window.
the night of my arrival, while Berengar punished his sinful flesh...
Venancius, following the instructions on the parchment...
entered the forbidden library and found the book.
He took it back to his desk and began to read it.
After scribbling down those mysterious quotations...
he died with a blackstain on his finger.
The assistant discovered the body...
and dragged it down to the pigpen to avertsuspicion on him.
But he left his autograph behind.
The book remained on the translator's desk.
Berengar returned there last night and read it.
Soon after, overcome by some agonizing pain...
he tried to take a soothing bath with lime leaves...
and drawned.
He too had a black finger.
All three died because ofa book which kills...
or for which men will kill.
Therefore, I urge you to grant me access to the library.
Brother William, your pride blinds you.
By idolizing reason...
you failed to see what's obvious to everyone in this abbey.
The papal delegation's arrived. Bernardo Gui.
Thank you, brother William.
We're grateful for your efforts...
but I now ask you...
to refrain from further investigations.
Happily, there'll be someone arriving with the papal delegation...
who is a well-versed in the wilds of the evil one.
A man, I believe, you know too well.
Bernardo Gui...
of the lnquisition.
Master, who's Bernardo Gui?
I've been searching the entire abbey for you!
Michele wishes to speak with you at once.
Alone.
-You know who's coming? -I know. Bernardo Gui.
Ubertino must be moved to a safe place.
The arrangements have been made. It's you that concerns us.
You must put aside these totally irrelevant investigations.
Erroneous conclusions.
It's the truth. I'm right.
William's right, he's always right!
No matter what the consequences...
for himself or anyone else... William of Baskerville...
must always prove himself right.
Wasn't your vanity, your intellectual pride...
that brought you into conflict with Bernardo Gui before?
Do not dare fate twice, William.
Not even the Emperor will be able to save you if you tangle with Bernardo.
My flesh'd forgotten the sinful pleasure she'd...
given me. But my soul couldn't forget her.