Andrey Rublyov Page #4

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Enough! That's it!

You want to swim, go and swim!

Go on!

Why are you sitting? Go!

- Where's Andrei?

- He's out.

Something has happened...

Such a thing...

Well...

I dropped in at our bishop's,

and there was such a commotion!

The bishop, all livid,

was running about in his underwear.

"I can't stand it any longer,"

he says. "That's it!"

He was speaking about you.

"It's been two months since

everything was ready for their work,

and they're not doing anything,

just loitering about.

They'd demanded an exorbitant price,

and they haven't done a thing yet!"

- Did you really ask a lot of money?

- Oh, come on!

"It makes no difference to me,"

he says.

"Whether it is Daniil Chorny or

Andrei Rublyov! I don't care!"

"What's going on?" he says.

And he made a face like that.

"What is it?" he says. "What do I

care if it's Rublyov? If it's Andrei?"

"I need the cathedral to be painted

by the fall, and that's it!" he says.

He sent a messenger to the Grand

Prince with a complaint.

Sent a messenger to the Grand.

You mind that.

What? You really... haven't

started yet?

You know...

you better start... or else...

- Where's Andrei?

- He's gone somewhere again.

Can't you do it without him?

Start without him.

What's so funny?

There're so many of you.

If he hasn't decided yet,

there are enough of you!

Two heads are better that one...

Ah, Andrei, Andrei!

You see, a messenger already went

to complain to the Prince.

Just say 'yes' or 'no'?

Yes or no.

Hadn't we decided all in Moscow?

We'd agreed on everything

up to the last detail.

The Grand Prince himself

had approved it.

What is still unclear to you then?

What have we been shouting ourselves

hoarse about for two months?

Maybe I'm too old,

maybe I'm out of my mind?

"The Last Judgement".

Just go ahead and paint it.

Or maybe we better turn down

this work?

Really, let's turn it down.

And how am I going to look people

in the eyes? I'll burn with shame.

We're losing precious time!

The weather is warm and dry.

We could've already finished the domed

ceiling. And the pillars, too.

And we could've made them

so beautiful and vivid!

We could depict the sinners

boiling in tar in such a way that...

it would make one's flesh creep.

I know how to paint the devil, with

smoke from his nose and eyes like...

Smoke is not the point!

- What is the point then?

- I don't know!

- Why won't you look me in the eye?

- I can't!

I can't paint this.

It's against me. Can't you understand?

I don't want to scare people.

Try to understand, Danila.

Come to your senses! It's the Last

Judgement, that's what it is!

It's not my invention.

No, I can't!

Why didn't you say it in Moscow?

We shouldn't have taken it up

in the first place.

It's so impure!

That's how I am! You seem to have

failed to cultivate purity in me.

I'm leaving you.

This kind of work is not for me.

Thank you for everything,

for the clips on my nose.

You've taught me something, that's

enough. I'm going to work.

They invited me to decorate a chapel

in Pafnutiev.

It's not a big deal,

but at least it's something.

I'm going to paint

"The Last Judgement".

Anyone going with me?

All right, stay.

But be sure not to regret it later!

Though I speak with the tongues

of men and of angels,

but have not love,

I have become sounding brass.

And though I have the gift of prophesy,

and understand... all knowledge,

and though I have all faith,

so that I could remove mountains,

but have not love, I am nothing.

And though I bestow all my goods... and

though I give my body to be burned,

but have not love,

it profits me nothing!

Love suffers long,

and is kind;

love envies not;

love does not parade itself,

is not puffed up,

dos not behave itself unseemly,

seeks not her own, is not easily

provoked, thinks no evil;

does not rejoice in iniquity,

but rejoices in the truth;

bears all things, believes all things,

hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails...

But whether there be prophesies,

they shall fail;

whether there be tongues, they'll cease;

...knowledge, it shall vanish away.

For we know in part...

Well, Princess, is it any good?

To splash milk around is sinful.

It's naughty.

Why is it sinful?

Just because.

Go on, wipe me up.

It'll dry up by itself.

Let's go with me for a walk

by the river.

Let go of me, Stepan! Let go,

or I'll send you to the stable!

What do you think? Do you like it?

For me, it couldn't be better.

It's so light and beautiful.

Light...

Come on, take her away from here.

The nurses have spoiled her rotten.

Don't worry, no one could've built

you a mansion like we have.

Who could decorate it so beautifully?

And the carving?

Only Mityai can do it.

He carves without marking.

Just like a bird singing.

Look at it!

Maybe it's like a bird, but...

For me it's all right to sleep in

a barn, but you're a Grand Prince.

What? Don't you like it?

Everything has to be repainted.

The walls and the ceiling.

To make it brighter and more vivid.

I've been in this business forty

years!

What matters is not your skill,

but to be able to glorify the prince.

We're not going to redo anything.

It's time for us to leave.

We've been hired for another job.

They expect us in Zvenigorod.

Where?

At your brother's. The stone's

already been brought up there.

Very good stone.

Whiter than this one.

We agreed on it when your brother

was here at Easter time.

"Do whatever you like," he said.

"I won't spare any money.

Just make me the best mansion."

Well, if it's Zvenigorod,

let it be Zvenigorod!

I looked at the prince,

he just stood still.

When I told him about Zvenigorod?

He was just horror-stricken.

He's afraid that his brother

will go one up on him.

- And who carved this?

- I did.

Why didn't you fix it into the wall?

It didn't work.

- A fine beast.

- It crumbled all the way.

I'd warned the prince

not to scrimp on the stone.

He must be regretting it now

that he knows about Zvenigorod.

Come on, move!

Where's Stepan?

Where did Stepan ride to?

I guess he went to Zvenigorod.

All right then.

My hands are dirty.

We're going to build his younger

brother a mansion no worse that this.

- He's got a better stone?

- Yes, much better.

- Look! Stepan!

- What's he doing here?

Hold it, old man!

You, Goat!

Help him. Hide him in the bushes.

Where's my whip?

- Mikola!

- Mityai!

Anyone seen my whip?

Damn it!

I've lost my whip.

Hey, Goat!

Have you seen my whip?

Sergey, read from the Scriptures.

- What place?

- Whatever you like.

Now I praise you, brethren, that

you remember me in all things

and keep the ordinances

as I delivered them to you.

But I would have you know

that the head of every man is Christ

and the head of the woman is the man,

and the head of Christ is God.

Every man praying or prophesying,

having his head covered,

dishonoreth his head.

But every woman that prayeth or

prophesyeth with her head uncovered

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