Beloved Sisters Page #3

Herr Schiller's sympathy that

I'm allowed to experience isn't calculated.

He is a great poet.

I'm proud he's staying with us.

And I consider him a friend.

Forgive me, my dear.

I forgot how fresh

the wound in your soul is.

- Maman, the man speaks French.

- Yes, I speak French.

Because French

is the language of the great...

Enlightenment.

"Bring light into the world,"

the new age tells us.

The noblest achievement

of the Enlightenment

is a free treatment of nature

and its sources of life.

Your husband, as the

Prince's forest manager,

was a beacon

of progress in this respect.

He saw the blessings of nature

through cleansed eyes.

Count von Lengefeld's fame

extends even to the King of Prussia.

My husband wasn't a count.

And there's no need for flattery.

I want to see my daughter's future

in bright colors, Herr Schiller.

Yes, that's understandable.

When my husband died

Charlotte asked me every single day,

she was eight at the time,

"Maman, are we poor now?"

I said, "Can't you differentiate between

a common man's poverty and ours?"

We're poor when we only have one

of our twelve 26-piece dinner sets left.

We are poor

when we have to live in a house

"where we each have only one

room and just three servants."

That's what I told her.

And now?

What are we left with?

The rear house.

Herr Schiller, my daughters deserve

a life without worries.

Italy.

Yes.

He's there.

I'll never get there.

He's on the way back.

When I left Frau von Stein in Weimar,

his last letter came from Meran.

"Every afternoon the sisters pick me up

at a bridge over the Saale outside town"

and lead me to their home

for the rest of the day and evening,

looking like two river goddesses

at the gates of some paradise

which will open up to me one day too.

We gave ourselves secret names,

noms de guerre, as the French say.

Charlotte was 'Wisdom',

Caroline 'Ardor'.

Sorry, Wilhelm, I know I promised you a

classic tragedy and half a dozen poems

if you found me a woman

with a 12, 000-taler dowry soon,

but now I'm happy and confused.

The sisters have no money either.

Still, the summer and this river...

Will you forgive me

if I return without any masterpieces

"but with two flames in my heart?"

Doggie.

- Help, help!

- She's drowning.

- Help!

- My God, she's drowning.

- Where?

- Help!

She's drowning.

- Can he swim?

- Help.

Can you swim?

No.

Come on.

Come here. Come to me!

- Schiller!

- Ida!

The child!

I'll hold you.

- This way.

- Take the child!

- Get her.

- Take her hand.

Fritz, I'm over here.

Fritz!

I've got you.

Hang on.

Ida!

Ida Marie.

We'll take you home, both of us.

You have to take your clothes off.

- I'm all right.

- You have to get warm.

Don't be foolish,

you'll catch your death.

Keep him warm.

"II", meaning Schiller,

"acknowledges the benevolent

performance of 'Triangle'", which is you.

"And 'Circle'", that's you.

Right. "On the 27th of last month."

Which means yesterday. All dates

are plus one month minus two days.

Today's the 30th.

He acknowledges

our benevolent performance.

- Again the two slashes.

- Meaning him.

"...hopes for a repeat performance."

But the artists have postponed the tour,

"so it seems

a renewed staging will have to wait."

Circles, triangles...

It's a code.

We need several letters to decipher it.

No problem. They receive two a day.

I'll try and memorize the symbols

until the next letter arrives.

Your daughters

may have modified the code by then.

What's all this nonsense?

Has everyone gone mad?

The heat, Madame. Careful.

- Nonsense.

- They mustn't notice.

"Dear II,

the performance

was postponed at the time..."

Meaning today.

"...because on said date last month"

the troops returned to the barracks.

The performers..."

Insert a circle and a triangle.

Meaning the two of us.

"...were forced to find another location

for a renewed staging."

And here we are.

Now the three of them

will become one,

observing the three stages of approach

as described by Madame de Scudry.

Are you strong enough

to put up with both of us?

Are we annoying you?

We've just arrived.

How can we be annoying him?

First:
irony.

Second:
Recognition of true feelings.

Third:
irredeemable honesty.

The suspect has a severe chill

after saving someone's life.

One.

This is an opportune moment.

Corporal, spread out.

The accused had better pray to God

that we find nothing

but virtuous literary works in your cell

and no perfumed love letters.

"The Revolt of the Netherlands".

Will you read to us from this

once you're back in our garden?

Certainly.

It's suffocating in here.

Why not open a window?

What's this?

Madame von Kalb?

Two.

Isn't she married?

Am I mistaken?

- She is married.

- To Herr von Kalb?

I see.

"Esteemed young Master..."

Lollo, here, you read this one.

No indiscretions at first glance.

Something about literature.

How about yours?

Let's check the next one.

Is this right?

Lollo.

Madame von Kalb cites a letter

that you, Herr Schiller,

allegedly wrote to your friend Krner.

She quotes the following:

"It's a dutiful wife you want..."

And then, "No passion

must be involved in an eternal union."

Krner is a good fellow.

He keeps accusing me of getting lazy.

I wanted to reassure him.

How come Frau von Kalb

knows about it?

She was present

when I wrote to Krner.

- Present?

- She teased me about it.

What's the nature of your relationship

with Frau von Kalb?

Accused? Quick!

- Her husband regards me highly.

- For cheating on him with his wife?

He likes to see his wife

in inspiring company.

That's true.

At court they say Herr von Kalb approves

of his wife's friendship with Schiller.

Friendship?

Tacit approval at court

makes this indelicacy no better.

I'm not asking for acquittal.

And I don't care about the Weimar court.

It isn't my world.

Irony, coquetry,

I'm too plain for all that.

Not plain.

You are honest. That's not the same.

Three.

Lollo, I can hardly imagine

you like the rarefied air of Weimar,

even if we met there.

Isn't everything that truly affects

our soul, nature and naturalness,

like a beautiful melody?

Isn't it financial need that drives us

into the world of false notes?

The lies,

the unnatural play-acting at court?

We suffocate in that society.

Soon we no longer know

what we feel or what we want.

He's showing remorse.

A fellow like me

gets from life what he least expected.

I love you both.

Caroline, Charlotte.

I can't imagine leaving your side.

Forgive me.

Come in.

Good afternoon.

Caroline.

Maman.

We have to talk.

Come on. Right away.

You stay here. We'll talk later.

Come in now, Caroline.

The man who lights his stairs so

sparingly that one breaks one's bones

also felt inclined to write me a letter.

Stop, that hurts.

What's going on?

What's happened?

- Madame has fallen?

- Yes. But I don't need you. Out. Out!

He's heard in Berlin,

God knows if it's true,

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