Voila! Finally, the Name Of The Rose
script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Sean Connery and
Christian Slater movie. This script is a transcript that was painstakingly
transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Name Of The Rose. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally
tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to
drop me a line. You won't
hurt my feelings. Honest.
Having reached the end
of my poor 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...
towards the end of the year
of Our Lord .
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 Italy.
An abbey whose name
it seems even now,
pious and prudent to omit.
May my hand not tremble
now that I start...
to relive the past and
revive the feelings of uneasiness...
that oppressed 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 overestimate his talents
my Lord Abbot.
There's only one authority
capable of investigating such matters.
The holy Inquisition.
What is your opinion,
venerable Jorge?
Dear brethern,
I leave such worldly
matters to younger men.
Adso?
- Yes, master.
- To command nature...
one must first learn
to obey it. Hmm?
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 before.
When we arrived, I saw a brother
making for this spot in some haste.
I noticed that he emerged more slowly,
with an air of contentment.
Thank you, master.
On behalf of the Benedictin Order..
I am 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.
No. Not particularly.
You're not in need
of anything?
No, thank you.
Well... then I...
I bid you peace.
I'm sorry to see that
one of your brethern...
has recently been gathered
unto 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 I...
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: "Here's a man who has the
knowledge both of the human spirit...
and of the wiles of the evil one."
Brother Adelmo's death
has caused much...
spiritual unease
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 hail storm...
horribly mutilated...
bashed against a rock at the
foot of the tower...
under a window which was...
How should I say this?
- which was...
- which was found closed.
- Somebody told you?
- Had it been found open...
you would not have spoken of spiritual unease,
you would have concluded that he'd fallen.
Brother William...
the window cannot be opened...
nor was the glass shattered.
Nor is there any access
to the roof above.
I see. Because you cannot
find a natural explanation...
your monks suspect the presence
of a supernatural force.
That's why I need the counsel of
an acute man such as you.
Acute in uncovering and
prudent, if necessary...
in covering up before
the papal delegates arrive.
Surely you know I no longer deal
in such matters.
I'm reluctant to burden
you with my dilemma, but...
unless I can put the mind of
my flock at rest...
I will have no alternative but
to summon the Inquisition.
That is Ubertino de Casale...
one of the great 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...
is not favorite reading
in the papal palaces.
So, now he lives in hiding,
like an outlaw.
Fellow Franciscans...
you must leave
this place at once.
The devil is roaming this abbey!
Ubertino, it's William.
William of Baskerville.
William is dead.
William... my son...
forgive me.
We lost trace of you
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 of Melk.
His father has entrusted
me his education and welfare.
Get him out of here at once!
Have you not 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 intercourse
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...
Oh, my son.
The times we live in.
But, let us not frighten
our young friend.
She's beautiful, isn't she?
When a female,
by nature so pervert...
becomes sublimed by holiness...
then she can be the
noblest vehicle of grace.
- I don't like this place.
- Really?
I find it most stimulating.
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
tantalising conundrum.
My master trusted
Aristotle, the Greek philosophers...
and the faculties of his own
remarkable, logical intelligence.
Unhappily, my fears
were not...
mere phantoms
of my youthful imagination.
A rather dark end for such
a brilliant illuminator.
Another generous donation
by the Church to the poor.
What if it wasn't that tower
that he fell from...
but somewhere over there and
the body rolled all the way down here?
No devil needed anymore.
Yes, 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
at night in the middle of a hailstorm?
Certainly not to admire
the landscape.
Perhaps someone murdered him.
And then toiled all the way
up there with the body?
Much easier to get rid of it
through that sluice gate.
No. My dear Adso,
it's... elementary.
Suicide?
Do you think this is a place
abandoned by God?
Have you ever known a place where
God would have felt at home?
We praise Almighty 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...
that we are so greatly
honored to host...
may now proceed
without a shadow of fear.
We also praise the Almighty for sending
us brother William of Baskerville...
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.
Master, if I may ask what...
onerous duties was
the abbot talking about?
Were you not always a monk?
Even monks have pasts, Adso.
Now, do try to sleep.
I just...
Yes, master.
A calamity!
It was a calamity!
Father! A tragedy in the pigpen!
Come! Come quickly!
This one, I grant you,
did not commit suicide.
Water!
Venantius, 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 hail storm,
with the second trumpet..."
"the sea became blood."
- And behold... here is blood!
- The prophecy of the Apocalypse.
"With the third trumpet,
a burning star..."
"will fall in fountains of water'
The devil is here!
Grated stem of adderwort
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 find many circumstances in which
you apply... arsenic, brother Severinus?
Yes, indeed.
It is a most effective remedy for
nervous disorders.
If taken as a compound,
in small doses.
And what of not so small doses?
Death.
What was this monk's function here?
He was our finest translator
of Greek.
Entirely devoted to the works
of Aristotle.
Was he on friendly terms with
the handsome young Adelmo?
Yes. They worked together in
the scriptorium.
But in a brotherly way, you
understand? Not like...
I mean, flesh can be tempted
according to nature...
or against nature.
And they were not of the latter disposition.
If you ascertain my meaning.
Penitenziagite!
Watch out for Satan,
who comes to know your soul.
Death is supreme.
You contemplate the apocalypse?
There, we have the devil.
Ugly like Salvatore.
My little brother,
penitenziagite.
"Penitenziagite"?
I didn't say that.
You said "penitenziagite".
I heard you.
Noble brother, "magnifico"!
I don't have a good rhetoric.
But men must do "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 kept mentioning?
"Penitenziagite"?
- What does it mean?
- That the hunchback, undoubtedly...
was once a heretic.
"Penitenziagite" was the rallying
cry of Dolcinites.
Dolcinites? Who were they?
Those who believed
in the poverty of Christ.
So do we, Franciscans.
But they also declared that
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 yes, you're right.
We must keep an open mind.
We're very fortunate to have such
snowy ground here.
It is often the parchment on which
the criminal, unwillingly...
writes his autograph.
Now, what do you read 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 us 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 thus...
hence the furrows
created by the heels.
Now, where did the erudite
Greek translator...
meet the anonymous
author of his death?
Brother librarian...
perhaps you'll permit us to examine
the work of the two unfortunates...
that were so distressingly
guided off to God.
- Your request is most unusual.
- As are the circumstances of their deaths.
- Brother Adelmo sat there.
- Thank you.
A donkey teaching the
Scriptures to the bishops.
The pope as a fox.
And the abbot as a monkey.
He really had a daring talent
for comic images.
I trust my words didn't
offend you brother William...
but I heard the persons laughing
at laughable things.
You, Franciscans, however,
belong to an Order...
where merriment is viewed
with indulgence.
Yes, it's true. Saint Francis
was much disposed to laughter.
Laughter is a devillish wind which
deforms the lineaments of the face...
and makes men look
like monkeys.
Monkeys do not laugh.
Laughter is particular to man.
As a sin.
Christ never laughed.
Can we be so sure?
There is nothing in the
Scriptures to say that He did.
And there's nothing there
to say that He did not.
Even the saints have been known
to employ 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 scalded himself.
- A saint...
immersed in boiling water
does not 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.
You have read this work?
No, of course not.
It's been lost for many centuries.
No, it is not!
It was never written!
Because Providence doesn't
want futile things glorified.
- Oh, that I must contest...
- Enough!
This abbey is overshadowed by grief.
Yet you would...
intrude on our sorrow
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 did you deduce from that visit?
- That we're not meant to laugh in there.
But you noticed how few books
there were on the scryptorium shelves?
All those scriveners, copyists,
translators, researchers...
thinkers... Where are the books
needed for their work?
And for which this abbey
is famed.
Where are the books?
- Are you testing me, master?
- 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'll wager my faith that that
tower contains something other than air.
Did you notice that little door
the librarian closed as we came in?
Would that lead 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 could not comprehend
why my master so quickly dismissed...
my suspicions of the
heretical hunchback...
and why it was so urgent
that we visit the tower.
I assumed he could not
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 inky feet.
Written with lemon juice.
Sagittarius... Sun... Mercury...
Scorpion.
It's a zodiacal code
giving directions.
But to where?
Who's there?
Who's there?
- My magnifying glasses!
- They were on that book.
You go that way.
Come on out, you little bitch!
I know you're here.
I can smell you.
What is 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...
was bewitching 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.
"Ich bin" good catholic.
As you're a good Christian,
you must tell me.
So Adelmo gave the
parchment to Berengar?
No. To the translo...
the transla...
- Translator! Venantius, the black monk.
- Yes, yes.
- And what happened then?
- 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?
'Tis 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 scuttling out of here.
- He must have 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 has 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, will you 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...
- Oh. Ah.
Are you not confusing love
with lust?
Am I?
I don't know.
I want her own good.
I want her to be happy.
I want to save her from her poverty.
Oh, dear!
- Why "oh, dear"?
- You are in love.
Is that bad?
For a monk it does present
certain problems.
But doesn't St Thomas Aquinas
praise love above all other virtues?
Yes, the love of God, Adso.
The love of God!
And the love of... woman?
Of woman, Thomas Aquinas
knew precious little.
But the Scriptures are very clear.
Proverbs warns us:
Woman takes possession of a
man's precious soul.
While Ecclesiastics 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 would have introduced such
a foul being into creation...
without endowing her
with some virtues. Hm?
How peaceful life would be
without love, Adso.
How safe... how tranquil...
and how dull.
How beautiful! God, You have guided
our steps to this refuge...
of spiritual peace because
you wish for reconciliation...
as much as we, Franciscans.
Let us go, brothers!
- Thy will be done, oh Lord.
- Amen. Amen.
Brother Berengar?
He's probably hiding
somewhere...
with the book and
my magnifying glasses.
Brother Berengar?
Master, look! The door!
Brother Malachia!
I was just looking for your assistant,
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 is strict rule of the abbot.
That no one is permitted
to enter the abbey library...
other than myself and my assistant.
I see. Thank you again.
Maybe something's happened to him.
Maybe we'll find him in water.
- What?
- The third trumpet...
as Ubertino said.
The book of Revelation.
That is not the book we're after.
You count this a chicken for you?
It looks 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.
But the abbot and his colleagues
seem convinced...
that the devil is 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 is right and
you are wrong?
Don't forget, William, this debate
is crucial to us all.
We suspect the Pope
wants to crush our Order.
- And declare us heretics.
- Yes, and declare us heretics.
I only have one brother to
question and the matter is resolved.
William, we place our trust
in you.
Pray God that you do not
abuse it.
Brother William.
- Did you find a book in Greek?
- Huh?
I was right.
So was the book of
Revelation.
- We must talk at once.
- Indeed, we must.
And I have much to tell.
Just as soon as he and I have
examined this corpse.
Lime leaves in the bath
are used to alleviate pain.
He was left-handed?
Yes. Brother Berengar was
inverted in many ways.
Are there other left-handed
brothers at the abbey?
None that I know of.
Ink stains.
He did not write with his
tongue, I presume.
- A few lines of Greek.
- Yes, written by Venantius.
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 smudge
of blue...
blended by your finest
illuminator, brother Adelmo...
who possessed this parchment
before Venantius.
How do we know that?
Because those notes overrun...
Adelmo's blue smudge,
and not vice-versa.
Brother William...
this abbey is enshrouded
in a terrifying mystery.
Yet, I detect nothing,
in your obscure dissertation...
that sheds any light upon it.
Adso, the light.
Someone was at great pains
to conceal a secret...
of the first magnitude.
The calligraphy is, without
question, left-handed.
The only left-handed member of
your community is... or rather was...
brother Berengar,
the assistant librarian.
Now what kind of secret knowledge
would he have been privy to?
- 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...
enciphered on that parchment...
in exchange for unnatural caresses.
Enough, brother 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 could you know this?
- There was a witness.
The hunchback.
Who saw Adelmo giving
this parchment to Venantius...
and running towards
the small tower...
and hurling himself
out of the window.
The night of my arrival, while
Berengar punished his sinful flesh...
Venantius, 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 black stain
on his finger.
The assistant discovered the body...
and dragged it down to the pigpen
to avert suspicion falling 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 drowned.
He too had a blackened finger.
All three died because
of a book which kills...
or for which men will kill.
I therefore urge you to grant
me access to the library.
Brother William, your pride
blinds you.
By idolizing reason...
you failed to see what is obvious
to everyone in this abbey.
The papal delegation's arrived.
Bernardo Gui.
Thank you, brother William.
We are mindful
of your efforts...
but I should now ask you...
to refrain from further
investigations.
Happily, there will be someone
arriving with the papal delegation...
who is well-versed
in the wiles of the evil one.
A man I believe you know,
only too well.
Bernardo Gui...
of the Inquisition.
Master, who is Bernardo Gui?
I've been searching the
entire abbey for you!
Michele wishes to speak
with you at once.
Alone.
- Do you know who is coming?
- I know. Bernardo Gui.
Ubertino must be moved to
a place of safety.
The arrangements have been made.
It is you that concerns us.
You must now put aside these
totally irrelevant investigations.
And erroneous conclusions.
It is the truth. I'm right.
William is right,
he's always right!
No matter what the
consequences...
to himself or anyone else,
William of Baskerville...
must always prove
himself right.
Was it not your vanity, your
stubborn intellectual pride...
that brought you into conflict
with Bernardo before?
Do not tempt fate twice, William.
Not even the Emperor will be able to
save you if you tangle with Bernardo.
My flesh had forgotten the sinful
pleasure that our union...
had given me. But my soul
could not forget her.
And now,
now that I saw her in the
midst of her poverty and squatter...
I praised God in my heart
that I was a Franciscan.
I wanted her to know
that I didn not belong to...
this rapacious abbey but to an
order dedicated to lifting...
her people out of their
physical destitution,
and spiritual depravation.
Farewell William.
You're mad and arrogant.
But I love you and I'll
never cease to pray for you.
Goodbye, dear child.
Try not to learn too many bad
examples from your master.
He thinks too much.
Relying always on the...
deductions of his head.
Instead of trusting in the
prophetic capacities...
of his heart.
Learn to mortify your...
intelligence. Weep over
the wounds of our Lord.
Oh, and do throw away
those books!
There is a side of Ubertino
that I truly envy.
Remember, fear the last trumpet,
my friends.
The next will fall from the sky.
And then will come a thousand...
- scorpions.
- Yes, we won't forget.
Which one frightens you most?
They all do.
Look closely.
- That one.
- My choice exactly.
After you.
Those are the foundations
of the tower.
But how to reach the library?
The rats love parchment
even more than scholars do.
Let's follow him.
bolted victorian door, ...
...
I knew it.
Adso! I knew it!
Adso, do you realize...
we're in one of the greatest
libraries in the whole of Christendom?
- How are we going to find the book?
- In time.
"The Beatus of Liebana".
That, Adso, is a masterpiece.
And this is the version annotated
by Umberto de Bologna!
How many more rooms?
How many more books?
No one should be forbidden
to consult these books.
Perhaps they're thought to be
too precious, too fragile.
No, it's not that, Adso.
It's because they often contain a
wisdom that's different from ours...
and ideas that could
encourage us to doubt...
the infallibility of the word of God.
Master?
And doubt, Adso,
is the enemy of faith.
Master?
Master?
Master?
Wait for me!
But I am waiting for you.
But I can hear you walking.
I'm not walking.
I'm down here.
Is that you up there?
Where are you?
I'm lost!
Well, Adso, it would appear that
we're in a labyrinth.
Are you still there?
Yes.
How do we get out?
With some difficulty.
If at all.
You see, Adso, that is the charm
of a labyrinth.
Adso, stay calm.
Open a book...
and read it aloud.
Leave the room you're in...
and keep turning left.
"Love does not originate as an
illness but is transformed into it..."
when it becomes obsessive thoughts."
"It was the theologian Ibn Hazim who
stated the love sick person..."
"does not want to be healed
and his amorous day dreams..."
"cause irregular breathing
and quicken the pulse."
"He identifies amorous
melancholy with lycanthropy..."
"the disease that induces
wolf-like behavior in humans."
"The lover's outer appearance..."
"begins to change."
"Soon his eyesight fails,
his lips drivel..."
"and his face becomes covered
with pustules."
"Marks resembling the bites of
a dog appear on his face..."
"and he ends his days
by prowling graveyards..."
"at night, like a wolf."
Master?
I can see a lantern.
Don't move.
Stay where you are.
I see a man.
He's stopped.
What is he doing?
He's raising his lantern.
How many times?
Three times.
It's I.
Raise your lantern.
Look!
You foolish boy!
It's just a mirror.
Master!
- Save the books.
- I'm trying to save you!
A trap door, a mirror...
We're almost there.
If I've deciphered the instructions
of the translator correctly...
You didn't think me
so foolish as to surrender...
the parchment to the abbot
without making a copy, right?
"With the hand above the idol..."
"press the st and the th
of four'
Very good.
What idol?
That's what we're here
to find out.
The st and the th of four what?
If I knew the answer of everything
I'd teach Theology in Paris.
And... again.
You hear that?
It's my teeth, master.
- What?
- My teeth.
Don't be afraid.
I'm not afraid,
I'm cold.
- Well... we should return.
- Don't leave on my account.
I must confess, it eludes me
for the moment.
Well... let me see...
to find your way out of a labyrinth...
you come to a fork
you mark it with an arrow...
- Master.
- Please, dear boy, I'm thinking.
If there are arrows
at the forks, then...
Well done, boy!
Your classical education
serves us well!
Give it to me.
Give me!
Bernardo, sprinkle me
with the sperm.
Then, you have the love.
Spit, please.
Spit over there.
Thank you.
Lucifer, be at my service,
for a woman's love.
Let go of me!
Salvatore loves you!
It's burning!
Bernardo, look what we found.
Search the creature.
My Lord Abbot, you invited me to
investigate...
the presence of the Evil One
in your abbey...
and I have already found it.
How many times have I seen
these objects of devil worship?
The black cockerel and the black cat!
But... She did it for the food,
not the devil. Tell him!
William of Baskerville must surely
recall the trial he presided over...
in which a woman confessed
to have had intercourse...
with a demon in the form
of a black cat.
I'm sure that you don't have draw on
my past experiences...
to formulate your conclusions,
Lord Bernardo.
No indeed. Not in the face of
irrefutable evidence.
A witch! A seduced monk!
Satanic rites!
Tomorrow we shall endeavor to
learn if these events...
are connected with the mystery
that afflicts your abbey.
Lock them up! That we may all
sleep safely tonight.
You said nothing!
I said nothing because there was
nothing to be said.
You're ready enough to speak
the truth...
when it comes to books
and ideas.
She's already burned flesh, Adso.
Bernardo Gui has spoken.
She is a witch.
That's not true and you know it!
I know.
I also know that anyone
who disputes the verdict...
of an inquisitor
is guilty of heresy.
You seem to know a lot about it.
Oh, yes.
Won't you tell me...
as a friend?
There's not much to tell.
I too was an inquisitor, but
in the early days.
When the Inquisition strove
to guide, no to punish.
Once, I had to preside at
he trial of a man...
whose only crime was to
have translated a Greek book...
that conflicted with
the Holy Scriptures.
Bernardo Gui wanted to
condemn him as heretic.
I acquitted the man.
Then Gui accused me of heresy
for having defended him.
I appealed to the Pope.
I was put in prison...
tortured...
and I recanted.
What happened then?
The man was burned at the stake...
and I'm still alive.
Brother Salvatore...
these torments will cause me
as much pain as you.
You can end it before
we even begin.
Open the gates of your heart,
search the depths of your soul.
- Search!
- I'm searching, sir.
Then tell me...
who, among your brethren, is the
heretic responsible for these murders?
I don't know.
I don't know!
I don't know anything!
Stupid. I don't know anything.
Did I lie awake that night,
suffering for the girl...
or for myself?
I did not know.
With the dawn, came
the envoys of the Pope...
our adversaries in the forthcoming debate.
But it meant so little
to me now.
Your Eminence,
venerable brothers...
at last we meet
for this long awaited debate.
We have all traveled
great distances...
to put an end to the dispute...
that has so gravely impaired the
unity of our Holy Mother Church.
Good people throughout Christendom...
are directing their gazes
at these venerable walls...
anxiously awaiting our answer
to the vexed question:
"Did Christ or did He not own
the clothes that He wore?"
Beloved brethren of
the Franciscan Order...
our Holy Father, the Pope,
has authorized me...
and these, his faithful servants,
to speak on his behalf.
The question's not whether
Christ was poor...
but whether the Church
should be poor!
You, Franciscans, wish to see...
the clergy renounce
its possessions...
and surrender its richness.
The abbeys dissipate
their sacred treasures...
and hand over their fertile
acres to the serfs.
I found the book.
I found the book at the dispensary.
A book in Greek.
It was behind one of my jars.
Don't touch it.
Return, lock yourself inside.
I'll be there as soon as I can.
Thereby depriving the Church of the
resources needed to combat unbelievers...
and wage war on the infidel.
You forget that even the
greatest monument to Our Lord...
is but a pale reflection of His
infinite Majesty and glory...
Brother, quick! Salvatore
confessed to his heretical past...
and yours. You have but little time
to escape the flames.
Thank you, brother.
- Where do you think you're going?
- I wasn't trying to escape!
How dare you call the Pope's brothel
God's palace on Earth?
- Answer that, your Eminence!
- These murders are a sign.
- I don't believe it!
- Why not?
The Gospel states categorically...
that Christ possessed a purse!
It's a lie, and you know it!
Why did Our Lord command
his disciples on seven occasions...
to carry neither gold
nor silver?
Brethern, if you please!
A matter has occurred of
utmost gravity.
Let me go! I swear
I didn't kill him!
I was in the granary
taking the inventory.
I never killed anyone,
I swear it!
Then explain to us the purpose
of your escape.
I was...
I've already ordered your arrest
on other charges.
I see now that I was correct.
Had someone else not chosen to look
in the wrong direction...
several men of God might
still be with us.
"Hand above the idol,
and of four..."
"Use vulgar persons.
Take pleasure from their defects."
Please, dear boy,
I'm trying to think.
So am I, master.
Then use your head
instead of your heart.
And we can make some progress.
Are books more important
than people to you?
Did I say they were?
You never seem to care
about anyone!
Can't you at least show a little pity?
Perhaps that is the style
of my pity.
But pity won't save her from
the fire.
I remind all present that they are
bound by their vow of obedience
and, on pain of excommunication,
to aid the Inquisitor in his
painful struggle against heresy.
To sit with me
on this tribunal...
and to share the burden
of the verdict...
I will require the counsel...
of two fellow judges.
My lord Abbot...
and...
Brother William of Baskerville.
Salvatore...
Salvatore!
Would you repeat your confession
of last night...
that you and your accomplice,
Remigio de Varagine...
were members of the heretical
Dolcinites?
Enough!
Remigio de Varagine, do you deny
the confession of your accomplice?
No.
I don't deny it.
I'm proud of it!
For the twelve years I lived here...
I stuffed my belly...
shagged my wick...
and squeezed the hungry peasants
for dimes.
But now you've given me
the strength...
to remember what I once believed
in with all my heart.
And for that I thank you.
To remember that you wantonly looted
and burned the property of the Church?
Yes! To give it back to
the people you stole it from!
And did you not also slaughter many
bishops and priests?
Yes! And I'd butcher you people...
if I had had the chance!
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
hear my humble prayer.
I know that my sin was
very great...
but I beg you to not let her
suffer for my wrongdoing.
Blessed Mother...
many years ago you granted
a miracle by saving my master.
Will you not do the same
for this girl?
My master says that the
simple folk always pay for all.
But, please, Holy Mother,
do not let it be so.
Guilty is that witch...
who has seduced a monk...
and practiced her diabolical
rituals in this hallowed place.
Guilty is Salvatore...
who has confessed to his
heretical past...
and was caught in flagrante
delito with a witch!
Guilty is Remigio de Varagine...
who, in addition to not repenting to
his former heresies, was caught...
attempting to escape after
murdering the herbalist Severinus.
That's a lie! I never killed
the herbalist...
or anyone else in this abbey!
I therefore, request you...
to confirm my
sentence, My Lord Abbot.
My heart is
filled with sorrow...
but I can find no
reason to contest...
the just sentence of
the Holy Inquisition.
And you, William of Baskerville?
Yes, he is guilty.
Guilty of having, in his youth...
misinterpreted the message
of the Gospels...
and he is guilty of having
confused...
the love of poverty with
the blind destruction...
of wealth and property.
But, my Lord Abbot...
he is innocent of the crimes
that have bathed your abbey in blood.
For brother Remigio
cannot read Greek...
and this entire mystery
hinges on...
the theft and possession of a
book written in Greek...
and hidden in some secret
part of the library.
Since the verdict of the Inquisition
has been disputed by Brother William...
we are obliged to extract the
prisoner's confession to murder.
Take him to the forge
and show him the instruments.
I'll confess anything you
want, but don't torture me.
I can't go through a night
like Salvatore!
Very well.
Why did you kill them?
Why? I don't know why.
- Because you were inspired by the devil?
- Yes... that's it.
I was inspired by the devil.
I am inspired by the devil!
Adralmech, Lucifer,
I summon you...
Lords of Hell.
The shepherd has done
his duty...
and the infected sheep must
now be consigned to the purifying flames!
You may burn brother Remigio...
but you willl not put a stop to the
crimes being committed in this abbey!
Other monks will meet their
deaths here...
and they also will have
black fingers and black tongues!
Your Eminence, I beg of you.
We, Franciscans, are as appaled
as you by brother William's outbursts.
Once more we've seen that
your theories protect heretics...
and lead to murder.
The debate is concluded.
It seems Brother William
has relapsed...
into the errors of which
he was formerly purged.
Having sought yet again
to shield a heretic...
from just punishment by
the Inquisition...
he will accompany me
to Avignon for confirmation...
of my sentence by His Holiness
Pope John.
I'm right.
If only I could find the book
and prove that Gui was wrong!
But the Antichrist
was victorious once more...
and nothing seemed to be
able to hinder him further.
Come, brothers.
When the pyres are lighted
tonight...
Let the flames purify...
each of us
in his own heart.
Let us return to what was,
and ever should be...
the office of this abbey:
The preservation of
knowledge.
Preservation, I say.
Not search for...
because there is no progress
in the history of knowledge...
merely a continuous
and sublime recapitulation.
Let us now praise the Almighty...
that the bloody-eyed antichrist...
has been purged from our
sacred precincts...
and our monastery
has returned to peace.
The fifth trumpet! It had
the power of a thousand scorpions...
- He told me.
- Who told you?
His tongue is black.
His fingers are black...
just as brother William foretold!
It's brother Malachia, father.
- Malachia?
- Yes, father.
Dear God! Not Malachia!
Will it never end?
Lord Bernardo, William of Baskerville
was right. He said...
Yes! He knew!
Just as I too would have known,
had I been the murderer!
Find William
of Baskerville!
But we still don't know how to
open the mirror!
Perhaps by pressing the st and
th letters of the word "four".
But "four" only has letters.
In Latin, "quatuor". Remember
the inscription above the mirror?
But we have to press
above an idol.
Not "idolum" as in Latin,
but "eidolon" as in Greek.
Meaning "image, or
"reflection". Our own reflection!
- This way, master!
- No, this way, Adso.
Here... Q and R.
Pray God we're
not mistaken.
Come.
Good evening, Venerable Jorge.
I've been expecting you
these several days past, William.
You must've flown
to this chamber to reach it ahead of us.
You've discovered many things...
since your arrival at
this abbey...
but the shortcut through
the labyrinth isn't among them.
So now, what is it that you want?
I want to see the book
in Greek you said was never written.
A book entirely devoted to comedy,
which you hate...
as much as you hate laughter.
I want to see what is probably
the only surviving copy...
of the nd book of the
poetics of Aristotle.
William, what a magnificent
librarian you'd have been!
Here is your well-earned
reward.
Read it. Leaf through its secrets.
You have won.
Loos, schnell.
"We shall now discuss the way comedy
stimulates all the like and ridiculous..."
"by using vulgar persons..."
"and taking pleasure from
their defects."
- Carry on, William. Read it!
- Master, we must hurry.
If the light is too dim
for you, give it to the boy...
I'm sure he can read it.
I would not want my faithful pupil
to turn your poisoned pages...
not without the protection
of a glove, such as I am wearing.
The door!
Quick, before it shuts us in!
Venerable brother, there are many
books that speak of comedy.
Why does this one
fill you with such fear?
Because it's by Aristotle.
This way.
Do you, Salvatore, renounce
the devil and embrace Jesus Christ...
as your Lord and Savior?
Do you, Remigio de Varagine,
renounce the devil...
- and embrace Jesus...
- What for?
It's better die fast
than to spend...
the rest of life in prison.
The devil I renounce
is you, Bernardo Gui.
Do you renounce the devil
and embrace Jesus as your Savior?
But what is so alarming
about laughter?
Laughter kills fear...
and without fear
there can't be any faith.
Because without fear of the devil...
there is no more need of God.
But you will not eliminate laughter
by eliminating that book.
No, to be sure.
Laughter will remain
the common man's recreation...
but what would happen if,
because of this book...
learned men work
to pronounce it permissible...
to laugh at everything?
Can we laugh at God?
The world would relapse into chaos.
Therefore, I seal that
which was not to be said...
in the tomb I become.
He's there, behind the arch!
Save me!
Look!
Courage, brother!
Remember Dolcino!
Go on! I insist!
I insist!.
God, save him.
Stay back.
Burn the witch!
Do you dare to raise your
hands to the Church?
You won't leave!
It's all your wrong doing!
My master found out the murderer!
Help me!
Master...
I never regretted
my decision...
for I learned from my master
much that was wise...
and good and true.
When at last we parted company,
he presented me with his eyeglasses.
I was too young, he said...
but one day they would
serve me well.
And in fact, I am wearing them now
on my nose as I write these lines.
Then he embraced fondly, like a father,
and sent me on my way.
I never saw him again,
and know not what became of him...
but I pray always that God
received his soul...
and forgave the many little
vanities to which was driven...
by his intellectual pride.
And yet, now that I'm
an old, old man...
I must confess that of all the
faces that appear to me out of the past...
the one I see most clearly
is that of the girl...
of whom I have never ceased
to dream...
these many long years.
She was the only earthly
love of my life...
yet I never knew
nor ever learned...
her name.