She's even incapable of loving her own daughter.
Good for... bed, and that's all.
But what can you expect? You know whose daughter she is?
She's the daughter of one of your peasants from Runci.
His name was Peppe Giunta.
He was so filthy and savage
that everyone called him Peppe Cowshit.
Pardon my language.
Two years after Don Calogero had eloped with Bastiana,
they found him dead with twelve bullets in his back.
It's outrageous! And I'd so hoped he would marry Concetta!
He's a traitor, like all liberals of his kind!
First he betrays his king, and now us.
He, with that lying face of his,
those honeyed words and poisoned actions!
That's what happens when one lets people into one's home
who aren't of our own blood.
Come now. Drink.
Drink this.
I always said so, but no one would listen to me!
I never could endure that fop!
You lost your head over him!
And he has the impertinence to ask you, his uncle,
father of the girl he has deceived, to carry his proposal to that rascal,
the father of that slut! You mustn't do it!
Enough!
You don't know what you're saying.
Angelica is not a slut.
She may become one, but for now she's a girl like any other,
prettier than others, who wants to make a good marriage.
She may even be in love with Tancredi, like all the others.
She has a lot of money, Stella.
Our money mostly, but well administered by Don Calogero,
and Tancredi needs that.
He's a gentleman. He's ambitious. A sieve when it comes to money.
He never said a word to Concetta, so he's not a traitor.
He follows the times, that's all,
as much in his politics as in his private life.
Besides, he's a very likeable young man, and you know it too.
I'll have no more shouting in my house!
In my own room, in my own bed!
Stop this! I decide!
I'd already decided before you even knew of it!
That's enough!
Let's sleep now.
I'm going shooting tomorrow. I have to get up early.
Good night, Stella dear.
You've mentioned everything...
savage mothers, filthy grandfathers... but not what interests me:
Miss Angelica.
There's nothing to say. She speaks for herself.
She has her mother's beauty without her grandfather's stink.
She's intelligent too. A real lady.
When she returned from school,
she invited me home and played my old mazurka.
Badly, but it was a delight to watch her.
Those black locks, those eyes, that skin,
those breasts!
No stink of manure there!
Her sheets must smell like paradise.
Calm down, now.
From now on you will speak of her with due respect.
Today I will ask Don Calogero for her hand on behalf of Tancredi.
You are the first to know, but you will pay for the privilege.
You'll be locked up in the gun room with the dogs
until after Don Calogero's visit. I want nothing to leak out.
Let's go.
What a foul blow!
Your nephew ought not to marry the daughter of enemies
who've always tried to harm you!
To try to seduce her would be an act of conquest,
but this is unconditional surrender.
It's the end of the Falconeris!
And of the Salinas!
This isn't the end of anything. It's the beginning of everything!
This marriage is in the best of traditions.
There are some things you can't understand.
Let's go home. You'll remember what we agreed?
Don't turn the tables on me. What a fuss over a mere kiss!
Remember, it was I who called you.
Yes, of course, but...
I wanted to tell you about a letter from my nephew.
It arrived yesterday evening.
Or, rather, last night.
In it he declares his passion for your daughter,
and he charges me to ask you...
officially for Miss Angelica's hand.
Now it's up to you to declare your intentions.
Forgive me, Prince.
This wonderful surprise took my breath away.
I know all that goes on in Angelica's heart and mind,
and I believe I can say that Don Tancredi's affection,
which honors us all, is sincerely returned.
We invoke the protection of God on this marriage.
Your joy is mine. - Thank you, Father.
There's a storm brewing.
Don Calogero,
I needn't tell you how illustrious the Falconeris are.
They came to Sicily with Charles D'Anjou
and flourished under Aragonese, Spanish and Bourbon kings,
if I may name them in your presence.
They were Peers of the Realm, Grandees of Spain,
Knights of Santiago...
but just as there is no point in telling you
of the antiquity of the house of Falconeri,
it is unfortunately just as pointless, since you already know,
to tell you that my nephew's circumstances
are not equal to the greatness of his name.
My brother-in-law was not a provident parent.
His magnificent lifestyle undermined my nephew's inheritance.
The result of all those troubles is Tancredi.
We know about these things.
Perhaps it is impossible to be...
as distinguished, sensitive and charming as Tancredi
unless your ancestors have squandered fortunes.
At least, so it is in Sicily.
I know all that and more,
but love... is everything,
as I myself know.
Look...
I'm a man of the world. I wish to be frank too.
Our young people should know what they can count on.
In the marriage contract I will assign to my daughter,
the estate of Settesoli.
1,010 hectares, all wheat.
First-class land,
airy and cool.
And 500 hectares of vineyards and olive groves at Gibildolce.
On the wedding day,
I'll give the bridegroom 200,000 gold ounces.
My family is everything to me.
"No one has laid eyes on Don Calogero's wife for years.
Except me. She only leaves the house to go to early mass,
the one at 5:00 a.m., when it's empty.
But once I got up early just to see her.
Word of honor, she was lovely as the sun.
You can't blame Don Calogero, who's a beetle of a man,
for wanting to keep her away from others. "
I'll be left with a pittance, but a daughter's a daughter.
I know that what I'm about to say
will have no effect on you, who descend from the loves
of the Emperor Titus and Queen Berenice,
but the Sedáras are noble too,
a title granted by Ferdinand IV.
Good for you, Don Calogero. Good-bye.
The documents are all in order. They just need to be filed.
One day it will be known that your nephew
has married the Baronessina Sedára del Biscotto.
Congratulations.
The papers are in order. There's only one link missing.
I'm sorry, Don Ciccio, but I had to do it.
I understand. Did everything go all right?
Perfectly. Couldn't be better.
Good-bye, Don Ciccio.
Forgive me for everything.
"It was a cold day in the middle of January.
The air, frozen by the icy gusts of the north wind,
seemed leaden in its deathly silence.
It had been snowing heavily for many hours,
yet on that deserted road
a poor horse, its back covered with a rough blanket...
was wearily pulling a two-wheeled cart.
'Giddyap! Curse you! ' Shouted the peasant,
who was accustomed to talking to his horse."
Excellency, Master Tancredi's arrived!
He's waiting in the yard while his luggage is unloaded.
Uncle!
Careful, I'm dripping wet!
- How glad I am to see you again! - As am I.
Forgive me... all this excitement made me forget.
I've brought Count Cavriaghi.
You've met him before. He came to the villa with the general.
And that's my orderly, Lancer Moroni.
We were expecting you, but with this weather...
They told me it never rained down here.
The last two days were like being at sea!
- Really? - Really!
How are you? Forgive me, Aunt. I'm soaking wet.
What a nice fire.
Aunt, I've brought Count Cavriaghi, from Milan.
You met him in Palermo when he came with our general.
So, Count,
you thought it never rained here, but as you see, it pours!
Don't think we have no pneumonia here, or you'll find yourself in bed with a fever.
Light the fire in Master Tancredi's room
and in the guest wing.
Prepare the small room next door for the soldier.
Run!
I don't understand you fellows. Weren't you in red last time?
What do you mean?
Don't you Garibaldini wear red shirts anymore?
What Garibaldini!
That's all in the past.
Cavriaghi and I, thank God,
are officers in the army of His Majesty the King of Italy.
When Garibaldi's army broke up,
we had a choice: Go home or join the king's army.
He and I and a lot of others went into the real army.
We couldn't stay with that rabble, could we, Cavriaghi?
A dreadful lot.
Good only for ambushes and looting.
Now we're real officers.
People aren't afraid we'll steal their chickens!
You should have seen it.
We got fresh horses on the way as if by magic
just by saying, "His Majesty's orders."
You can tell us about it later. Go and change now.
Excuse me, Aunt.
Wait!
First I'd like to show you the ring for Angelica.
How pretty!
Very beautiful.
I'm not an expert, but it looks valuable.
- Do you like it? - Very much.
Was it very expensive?
I made good use of your money.
There was enough left over from the 200 gold ounces you sent me...
For some good-bye presents!
Our lieutenant has returned. What's that?
- A gift for Miss Concetta. - What a kind thought.
The Poems of Aleardi?.
I hope she likes it.
Let's hope.
Miss Concetta,
it's The Poems of Aleardi, my favorite poet.
A present for you, if I may.
I had it engraved with your initials.
"Forever deaf."
Why deaf? I can hear just fine.
Deaf to my sighs.
Forgive me, but I heard that...
Here, darling.
A present for you, from your Tancredi.
You should thank Uncle, too.
Come.
Angelica, where are you?
Angelica, come on!
You know it's full of rats in there?
Let's go, then.
Angelica, where are you?
Tancredi, where are you?
You scared me. It's full of rats in there.
I'd be surprised if it weren't. Where's Tancredi?
I can't find him.
Come, let's go.
I scared you, didn't I?
Here she comes. Let's slip away.
No, enough of this exploring! I'm exhausted!
How big is this palace anyway? How many rooms are there?
Nobody knows, not even Uncle.
He says a palace in which you know every room isn't worth living in.
- Let's join her. Poor girl's alone. - What about the others?
Concetta went back to the garden.
Francesco Paolo had to go and meet a guest at the post station.
- Who is it? - I don't know. Someone from Turin.
Let's go. Come on.
No, I don't want to see any more.
In fact, I'm leaving.
What am I doing here anyway? Concetta doesn't love me.
Did you speak to her?
There's no point.
I feel like I'm just a worm to her, and she's right.
I must find a she-worm who'll put up with me.
Speak to her. You'll have plenty of time to decide later.
Or maybe it's better like this.
You see, Concetta is Sicilian to the bone.
She might never feel at home in Milan,
where you have to plan a month in advance to eat macaroni.
I'd have laid in cases of macaroni for her, bigger than this.
We're going to slip away.
Poor Count. Concetta will have nothing to do with him.
Silly girl. What more does she want?
Cavriaghi is handsome, with a good name and estates.
He's what you'd call a good match.
Concetta is still in love with you.
That's why you brought him here. - Not at all.
Yes, I think it is.
It isn't, I tell you.
Listen to me. Concetta is right.
To marry him after loving you
would be like drinking water after tasting...
Tasting what?
Marsala.
What strange rooms. How could anyone have lived here?
Actually, no one ever has.
My ancestors would come here to break the rules a bit
and make some unusual memories, unlike those of common mortals.
Break the rules?
They were bored, my love.
Are you the Cavaliere Aimone Chevalley di Monterzuolo?
I am he.
I am the Prince of Salina's son.
What a pleasure.
My father would like you to come stay at the palace.
That's very kind of him.
You should put your hat on. The sun is hot down here.
And you do the same.
I was planning to leave right after speaking to the prince.
You'll have to come home to do that.
- Of course. - This way.
Please let me, Cavaliere.
I couldn't allow...
It's not heavy, is it? Is that the palace up there?
They're not upstairs. They must be in the garden.
Shall we go into the garden too?
Do you think I don't love you anymore?
Don't be afraid.
I want you, but I won't take you now.
Not until you're my wife.
Oh, my!
Look, there's your guest.
What does he want from you exactly?
I don't know.
He's been in Sicily for a month, and he must be very miserable.
I expect the oil in the cooking has upset his insides.
He's afraid of some bandit's knife in his guts,
which are still dear to him, however upset they may be.
I want to suggest a hand of whist to him.
How about a game of cards?
Excellency, if I might have a private interview,
because I wish to be leaving tomorrow.
Tomorrow? Don't you feel at home here?
Certainly.
My dear Chevalley, you're in my home now,
and I'll hold you hostage for as long as I like.
Come.
Beware of Father Pirrone. He always wins.
Please sit down. I'll be your partner.
I'll keep score.
- Are you really from Milan? - Yes.
What brings you down here?
I'm imposing on the prince and enjoying it immensely.
If you'd like to visit Donnafugata,
I could be your guide and show you Baron Mutolo's house.
Francesco Paolo, don't start with that.
It's closed now. The family live in Girgenti
since the baron's son was abducted by bandits 10 years ago.
Poor things. I wonder how much they paid to free him.
They paid nothing. They were in financial straits already
with no ready money, like everybody here.
But they got the boy back anyway... in installments.
In installments? What do you mean?
In installments. Bit by bit.
First the index finger of his right hand.
A week later, his left foot.
Finally, in a basket under a layer of figs,
his head.
Francesco Paolo, stop it!
I didn't see it. I was only a child then. Papa told me.
What inept police those Bourbons had.
No doubt.
Some regrettable incidents occurred in my village too.
My father was an overseer,
a rather perilous job
for himself and his family, until a short time ago.
When our carabinieri come, they'll put an end to all this.
Contrary to certain propaganda,
respect for the church will be restored and upheld as before.
Even more, I hope.
Because the parish priest of Santa Ninfa was killed five years ago
while saying mass.
Horrors! They shot him in church?
Oh, no.
No, we are good Catholics here and would never sink so low.
No, they just put poison in the communion wine.
It's more discreet. More liturgical, even.
No one ever found out who did it.
The priest was an excellent person. He had no enemies.
Very amusing. Really entertaining.
You should write novels. You tell these stories well.
Yes, they are stories. Believe me, a Milanese.
Sicily is a great country.
After the happy annexation...
I mean
the glorious union of Sicily and the kingdom of Sardinia,
the government in Turin intends to nominate
some illustrious Sicilians as senators of the kingdom.
Your name was mentioned at once.
A name renowned for its antiquity,
for the prestige of its bearer,
for scientific merit,
and for the dignified and liberal attitude assumed during recent events.
Before sending the list to Turin,
my superiors thought it proper to inform you
and see if this proposal met with your approval.
The government is eager for your assent.
That is my mission,
which has accorded me the honor of coming to know you and your family
and this magnificent palace.
Tell me, Chevalley...
what does being a senator mean?
What is it really?
A title of honor, like a decoration or...
The senate is the highest chamber of our kingdom.
It examines, discusses, approves or rejects the laws
proposed by the government for the country's progress.
When you become a senator,
you will help us hear the voice of this lovely country of yours
that is now coming into view of the modern world,
with wounds to heal, desires to be granted.
Listen...
I'm grateful to the government for thinking of me.
If it were a mere title of honor to put on a visiting card,
I should be pleased to accept.
But no, I cannot accept.
Hear me out.
I am a member of the old ruling class,
hopelessly linked to the past regime
and tied to it by chains of decency, if not affection.
I belong to an unfortunate generation
straddling two worlds, and ill at ease in both.
And what is more, I am utterly without illusions.
What would the senate do with an inexperienced legislator
who lacks the faculty of self-deception,
essential requisite for those who wish to guide others?
No, I cannot lift a finger in politics. It would get bitten off.
I can't believe this.
Would you seriously refuse to do all you can
to alleviate the state of physical squalor
and blind moral misery
in which your own people lie?
We are old, Chevalley. Very old.
For more than 25 centuries, we have borne the weight
of superb civilizations that have come from outside,
never of our own creation, none we could call our own.
For 2,500 years we've been nothing but a colony.
I'm not complaining. It's our fault.
But we're worn out and exhausted.
But all that's over now.
Sicily is no longer a conquered land, but a free member of a free state.
Your intention is good, but it comes too late.
Sleep, my dear Chevalley, a long sleep...
that is what Sicilians want.
They will always hate anyone who tries to wake them,
even to bring them the most wonderful gifts.
And between ourselves, I doubt whether the new kingdom
will have many gifts for us in its luggage.
Here, all expression, even the most violent, is a desire for oblivion.
Our sensuality is a longing for oblivion.
Our knifings and shootings are a longing for death.
Our laziness,
the penetrating sweetness of our sherbets,
a longing for voluptuous immobility, that is...
death once again.
Prince, aren't you exaggerating?
I myself have met Sicilians in Turin who seemed anything but asleep.
I haven't explained myself well. I'm sorry.
I said Sicilians. I should have said Sicily.
This atmosphere, the violence of the landscape,
the cruelty of the climate, the constant tension in everything...
Climate can be overcome,
landscape improved,
the memory of evil governments canceled.
Surely the Sicilians want to improve.
I don't deny that a few, once off the island, may wake up,
but they must leave very young.
By 20, it's too late. The crust has already formed.
What you need, Chevalley,
is a man who is good at blending his personal interests
with vague public ideals.
May I offer some advice for your superiors?
With pleasure.
There is a name I'd like to suggest for the senate.
No, thank you. I don't smoke.
That of...
Calogero Sedára.
He has far more qualities than I that merit election.
His family, I am told, is an old one, or soon will be.
He has more than what you call prestige. He has power.
In lieu of scientific merits, he has practical ones,
and quite outstanding too.
His work was most useful during the May crisis.
As for illusions...
I don't think he has any more than I,
but he's clever enough to create them when needed.
He's the man for you.
Yes, I have heard talk of Sedára.
But if honest men like you withdraw,
the way will be open for those with no scruples and no vision,
for Sedára and his like,
and everything will be as before for centuries to come.
Listen to your conscience
and not to the proud truths you've spoken.
I beg you, try to collaborate.
You are a gentleman, Chevalley.
I consider it a privilege to have met you.
You are right about everything...
except when you say, "Surely the Sicilians want to improve."
They never want to improve. They think themselves perfect.
Their vanity is greater than their misery.
Sit down.
Let me tell you an anecdote.
Shortly before Garibaldi entered Palermo,
some British officers from the warships in the harbor
asked if they could go up onto the terrace of my house,
from where one can see the hills around the city.
They were ecstatic about the view,
but they confessed they were shocked at the squalor
and filth of the street.
I didn't explain, as I have tried with you,
that the one derived from the other.
One of the officers asked,
"What are those Garibaldini really coming to do in Sicily?"
I replied, "They are coming to teach us good manners,
but they won't succeed, because we are gods."
They laughed, but I don't think they understood.
It's late. Almost time for dinner.
We must go and change.
If you wish, you may leave tomorrow at dawn.
You may not believe it, but this state of things won't last.
Our efficient, modern administration will change everything.
All this shouldn't last, but it always will.
The human "always," that is... a century or two.
After that it may be different... but it will be worse.
Good-bye.
Thank you for everything, Prince.
We were the leopards, the lions.
Those who will take our place will be jackals, hyenas.
And all of us...
leopards, lions, jackals and sheep...
we'll go on thinking ourselves the salt of the earth.
I don't quite understand. What did you say?
Nothing.
What did you say? I didn't hear.
You've come early. Your guests haven't arrived yet.
My dear Stella, you look wonderful!
Tancredi's already here too.
We're expecting Pallavicino, who did so well at Aspromonte.
Thank you, Aunt. I know it's a sacrifice for you,
but they had to be invited.
This will be Angelica's debut in society.
What about Don Calogero's tailcoat?
It's not the one you saw. I took him to the best tailor.
The coat is fine. It's Don Calogero who lacks style.
How are you?
You look wonderful!
- May I go and dance, Mama? - Certainly, dear.
You're lovely as a flower!
Really pretty, isn't she?
I don't enjoy these balls, but we must come for the girls.
Colonel! I'm most honored to see you.
The honor is mine.
Margherita, come. I am honored to present Colonel Pallavicino.
I am proud to receive the victor of Aspromonte in my home.
You are very kind. I am happy to have this opportunity.
I hope you and your officers will have a pleasant evening.
Princess of Lampedusa.
Countess Sutera.
Delighted to meet you.
Princess Corbera of Salina.
Pleased to meet you, Princess.
Excuse me, Uncle. I'll see if Angelica has arrived.
Of course. Go ahead.
Colonel, do tell us...
I was sobbing, Countess. Sobbing like a child.
- How moving! - But what was he like?
As handsome and serene as an archangel.
Magnificent! A real hero!
Isn't he extraordinary?
How are you, Aunt?
The colonel's trying to reassure them,
but it's unnecessary after his men's musket shots.
Those musket shots came at a most opportune moment.
You're late. I was waiting for you.
You look wonderful. Come and meet the princess.
Princess...
may I present my fiancée? Angelica Sedára.
Let me look at you, my dear.
Yes, it's quite true.
You're even prettier than they say. - Thank you.
What's that?
The cross of the Order of the Crown of Italy.
Precisely. Here you need better than that.
I never doubted your good taste.
My future father-in-law, the Cavaliere Don Calogero Sedára.
- Nice here, eh? - Do you like it?
Easy now, boys, easy!
Tancredi, won't you introduce me to your fiancée?
Angelica, this is a friend of mine, Gioacchino Lanza.
And this is Fulco.
I don't know if Tancredi would mind,
but if you would reserve me a waltz on your card...
Don't be in such a rush, fellows. There will be time later.
Tancredi, how selfish of you!
Sorry, but it's not my fault. The lady chooses her partners.
This is my waltz. Shall we dance?
- I must say hello to Uncle. - You can do that later.
You're as beautiful as ever.
My dear Fabrizio, you're looking well.
Are you bored, Fabrizio?
I was thinking that these frequent marriages between cousins
do not improve the stock. Look at them.
They look like monkeys, ready to clamber up the chandeliers
and swing by their tails, showing their behinds.
Eleanora Giardinelli...
a white swan in a pool of frogs.
That reminds me: Congratulations on your nephew's engagement.
The girl's a beauty. Their example will be followed by many.
- What did you say? - I was saying...
It's too hot in here.
Yes, it's hot.
I was wrong to come.
I'm tired.
But I'm here now, so I have to stay.
It would be rude to leave.
You're right.
See you.
Good evening. How are you?
I'm already engaged for four dances.
Princess, I would be happy to have the honor.
Please don't refuse.
But I haven't danced for years!
With so many lovely women...
and at my age...
Fine place here.
They don't make houses like this nowadays,
what with gold leaf at its present price.
Yes, Don Calogero, it's very nice.
But nothing can equal our young couple.
Good evening, Prince.
Angelica wanted to say hello. Why are you in here all alone?
What are you looking at? Are you courting death?
You look wonderful.
What a melancholy scene for Don Diego to contemplate.
It's a miracle if he comes in here once a year.
You're right.
I wonder if my own death will be like that.
The linen will be less impeccable.
The sheets of the dying are always so filthy.
It's to be hoped the girls will be more decently dressed.
But I think
it will be more or less the same.
Uncle, what are you talking about? What's on your mind?
I often think about death. The idea doesn't frighten me.
You young people can't understand.
To you, death doesn't exist.
It's something that happens to others.
We must make some repairs to the family tomb.
May I have your handkerchief, please?
Prince, we heard you were here, and we came to catch our breath,
but we also came to ask you something.
I hope you won't refuse.
Tell me.
I wanted to ask you to dance the next mazurka with me.
Do say yes. Don't be naughty.
We know you used to be a great dancer.
I have never had a more tempting proposal,
which is why I must refuse.
Please. I'm begging you.
Thank you for making me feel young again.
I accept, but not the mazurka. I would feel too young.
Grant me the first waltz.
You see how good Uncle is?
No nonsense about him, unlike you.
He didn't want me to ask you. He's jealous.
It's only natural, with such a smart, good-looking uncle.
But I'll make an exception this once.
Shall we go?
A waltz!
As if I'd been in league with the orchestra.
Don't you think? - What?
It's a waltz. Or are you having second thoughts?
No, of course not. Please forgive me.
Everyone's so kind to me, and I'm so happy, Uncle.
Tancredi's an angel, and so are you.
It's lucky Tancredi can't hear you.
I mean it.
I owe all this to you... even Tancredi.
Because if you hadn't agreed...
He would have married you just the same.
The merit is yours alone.
That's not true.
It is true.
No Tancredi could ever have resisted your beauty.
I had heard you were a good dancer.
Forgive me for disappointing you again.
But you're far more than good.
You're a delightful dancer.
Yes, that's my father.
- The next one. - The mazurka, then.
Everyone is looking at us.
How splendid that girl is who's dancing with your father.
She's very pretty.
If there wasn't a burst of applause,
it's only because a lion like you calls for respect,
though you deserved an ovation.
Come and have supper at our table.
No, my memories of youth are still too vivid,
and I know how tiresome supper with an old uncle would be.
That's not true.
Lovers want to be alone. Besides, I'm not hungry.
Now go with Tancredi. Don't worry about me.
Thank you, Uncle.
- You're still a great dancer. - You were splendid.
Hello, Fabrizio. How are you?
Aren't you having anything? Can't make up your mind?
There's too much choice.
Donna Margherita knows how to do things well.
But all this is too much for my stomach.
What wonderful candelabras!
They're from Madrid. One was given to Diego's grandfather
at the end of his diplomatic mission in Spain.
I wonder how much land they're worth.
The most moving moment of my life.
What a bore the man is!
Prince Salina, will you do us the honor of sitting at our table?
Now the left wants to crucify me
because I ordered my men to open fire on Garibaldi.
But tell me, Prince, what else could I do?
I was carrying written orders.
But I must confess that at Aspromonte,
when I found myself facing that mob of hundreds,
some looking like fanatics,
others like professional agitators,
I was pleased to find my instructions coincided with my own feelings.
And in confidence, our few musket shots
mostly benefited Garibaldi himself.
They freed him from that rabble hanging around him
who were using him for goodness knows what ends,
perhaps instigated by the Tuileries or Palazzo Farnese.
True.
They were nothing like those who landed with him at Marsala,
who believed that Italy could be created by repeating 1848.
And the general knows that,
for when I bowed low to him in my now famous genuflection,
he shook my hand
and said to me in a low voice,
"Thank you, Colonel."
Thank you for what? I ask you. For crippling him for life?
No, for having brought home to him the cowardice,
and perhaps even worse, of those dubious followers of his.
Forgive me, Colonel,
but don't you think you went too far
with all that hand kissing and cap doffing?
Certainly not.
You should have seen him, that poor great man,
stretched out under a chestnut tree,
suffering in body
but even more in mind.
A sad sight.
Didn't he say so himself when he landed again in Sicily?
"We march towards the unknown."
It was difficult not to feel moved,
and why shouldn't I feel moved, anyway?
I kiss only ladies' hands.
Even then, Prince,
I was kissing a hand for the salvation of the kingdom,
a lady to whom we soldiers owe homage too.
Please excuse me.
Three balls in a week are too much.
I can't wait for it to end.
I wonder what everyone's so happy about.
Would you pass me some pins?
What a bore.
As long as these invitations continue, we must stay in the city.
I can't wait to get back to our house in San Lorenzo,
back to our quiet life once again.
Nonsense. I wish this ball would never end.
It's so lovely.
I wonder what the Trabias' ball will be like.
I've ordered a green gown. Pale green.
And you?
I'm so happy. Tancredi is such an angel.
You're all so good to me.
I wish you were happier.
What can I do about it? I've never enjoyed social occasions.
I don't even like dancing. I've never been very good at it.
It depends on who you dance with.
Look for a partner you like.
I'm not interested.
So you say.
Do you know how many men would be glad to court you?
You put them all off.
Like poor Cavriaghi.
Remember?
How you treated him!
Here you are! I couldn't find you.
We took refuge here to tidy up.
And you? I turned around and you had vanished.
I went to listen to Colonel Pallavicino.
He's not a genius, but he talks sense.
It's true, the new kingdom needs law and order.
Any attempt at anarchy must be put down.
No more adventures or disturbances,
even if that implies harsh, distressing methods,
like shooting those fanatics who deserted to go back with Garibaldi.
Do you think they will shoot them?
Didn't you know? This very dawn, and rightly so.
They're deserters.
You wouldn't have spoken like that once.
You're wrong, my dear.
I've always spoken like that.
Anyway, you can't understand these things.
Concetta, wait. Listen.
Let me go!
I think I understand perfectly well.
Come now.
I still say you wouldn't have spoken like that once.
Let me go!
She's such a dear, particularly when she's angry.
Poor Concetta. She's still in love with you.
And are you still in love with me?
- Have you seen the Prince of Salina? - No, I haven't.
Have you seen the Prince of Salina?
Don Calogero. Come, it's time to leave.
Tidy yourself up.
A hot coffee, please.
Sugar?
Thank you for an unforgettable evening.
You're too kind. Leaving already?
Yes, straight to the barracks, in the best military tradition.
Our duty demands it.
Besides, our work for the night is not yet over.
Tidy up a bit and put out the candles.
Thank you for a wonderful evening.
I'm sorry you're leaving so soon.
Are you leaving so soon too?
Ah, here you are! Aunt is looking for you.
The girls are all ready to leave.
Would you do me a favor? I've already said good-bye.
You call the carriage for your aunt. I'll walk home.
At this time of night?
I need some fresh air.
Uncle.
Don't you feel well? - A slight headache. Fresh air will help.
It went off very well, don't you think?
Wonderfully, thank you.
I'll soon have some good news.
I spoke to Pinzoni. In the next elections...
- You'll be a candidate. - You already know?
Excuse me.
- Good-bye, Tancredi. - You're still the prettiest.
So good to see you again. Regards to Annibo.
O faithful star...
when will you give me an appointment less ephemeral,
far from all this,
in your own region of perennial certitude?
A fine army.
It means business.
Just what was needed...
for Sicily.
We can rest easy now.
THE END