We would like to thank the citizens of Emilia for their participation in this film.
They have made an invaluable contribution to the picture
by sharing with us their experiences and rich cultural heritage.
25th of April 1945 Liberation Day
The war is over.
Why?
Hurry, comrades, in the name of Stalin!
The Black Shirt bandits are here!
- Quick! Let's wipe them out! - Come on, it's the partisans.
- Yeah, let's go finish them. - Isn't that black smoke? Come back!
Every last one of them.
Grab these. Go, go on.
I want a gun, too.
- What are you doing? Let go. - I want a gun, too.
Come on. I was good enough to cut the telephone lines,
so I'm good enough to carry a gun.
Come on, Wildcat. Come on.
Give me one. You promised.
Wildcat!
Leonito, what are you waiting for?
Take this. The magazine, too.
Here.
- Where are you going? - I want to kill, too.
...the commander of the Matteotti Partisan Brigade
for the liberation of Italy.
Within the last few minutes, we have seized a radio station in Milan.
The city has been liberated!
And, at last, a free Milan salutes its fellow countrymen.
I repeat, this is the commander of the Matteotti Partisan Brigade
for the liberation of Italy.
In the excitement and joy of this memorable moment,
our thoughts must go to those who gave their lives
to bring an end to the enslavement of Italy
at the hands of the Nazi Fascist barbarian regime.
But our thoughts, above all, go to our brother partisans
- who fought so bravely... - Leonito, what are you doing in here?
- ...and sacrificed even their lives. - I didn't even see you.
Leonito, what is all this nonsense?
Give me that gun.
Let go!
Long live, Stalin.
Have you gone out of your mind?
...commander of the Matteotti Partisan Brigade for Italian liberation.
Fascism has left us an inheritance of misery,
- humiliation, and death. - Long live Stalin.
Attila and Regina.
Attila and Regina!
Shoot, Attila! Shoot!
Kill her!
- Bitch! - Dirty Cossack!
- Kill her! - I'll murder you.
Regina!
Attila!
I'm coming!
Come on. Come on.
Oh, the swallows are back.
Wait, wait.
My grandfather died here.
Stand up!
Sit down.
Sit!
Did you know that in America every cow has its own drinking trough?
American cows are lucky. They're well off.
Hey,
wouldn't you like to go to America, Leonito?
Call me Olmo.
I thought your name was Leonito.
Olmo's my partisan name.
Do you know who Olmo was?
I know he was the bravest.
The bravest.
Well, my little partisan friend, what do you think of your master?
There are no more masters!
Many years before...
Verdi is dead!
Giuseppe Verdi is dead!
Push! Push! Push! Push!
Push! Push! Push!
It's born! It's born!
Look what a nice baby I made.
Keep going.
Come on. It's coming.
Rosalba, the door. Close the door, Rosalba.
Be quiet, children. Hush up.
It's a boy!
It's another mouth to feed.
Rosina had a boy!
Another little ass to clean.
It's a boy!
Don't touch him, Rigoletto, he'll get a hump on his back.
She had a boy!
It's a boy!
A boy!
We have another boy!
Damned woman.
It's a boy!
You hear that, you good for nothing?
The bastard's born before the master's son!
I'm going to get a stick and come up there.
Eleonora, push. It's coming.
I can feel it coming. Push!
Go on, harder! Push!
Go!
Bitch.
Papa!
Alfredo is born!
Alfredo!
The same name as mine.
And if it's a girl?
It's not a girl, is it?
Papa, I think I can tell a boy from a girl.
He's got all the right things.
He's got his father's expression already.
And his grandfather's money already.
What a pretty little boy.
Giovanni, Giovanni.
- Giovanni! - What is it?
- How is the mother? - Just fine.
- Give her a kiss for me. - "May the fruit of this union,
"by heaven blessed,
"plucked from the Garden of Eden
"be the heir to the lordly graces,
"the pious heart,
- "the virtues of the patriots..." - Oh, shut up!
- Giovanni, Giovanni. - Yes, Papa.
Write to that playboy brother of yours.
Write as I say.
Yes, Papa.
Ottavio...
Why don't you have anything to write with?
Ottavio Berlinghieri, Hotel Des Bains, Lido, Venice.
Announce birth, first Berlinghieri, 20th century. Stop!
Pray God he doesn't grow up like you. Stop.
Found wife yet? Question mark.
Affectionately, Papa. Have you got that?
- Of course, Papa. - Good.
Sister Desolata.
Sister Desolata is here!
Dear brother.
It's a boy, a boy.
Bravo! Bravo!
You can take down the trunks
because I shall never again return to that nunnery.
The monsignor has turned very cruel.
He prefers the novices, and he neglects me.
He does.
And I can't tell you how lowbred they are.
Listen, listen to this. Just the other day, I...
Rigoletto, my hat.
- Alfredo. - Yes, Signor Padrone.
- The Lord be with you. - And with your spirit.
A priest here, too. It's a conspiracy, I tell you.
Well, humpback.
What do you see in there, eh?
Snow. It's covered with snow.
Like in winter.
- What else? - A church.
A cathedral with spires.
- And what else? - Bottles.
- Bottles? - Bottles!
It's like paradise in there.
And you're the padrone, the lord, the master.
And I'd be Saint Peter, if you'd give me the keys.
Stop, no more work today.
Thanks, padrone. Hey, thanks.
Stop! Stop!
Hey, drink up, drink up.
- For you. Stop. No work today. - Today, you're the padrone, too.
Penzo, special wine.
- Celebration. - Salute, padrone.
Where's Dalco?
Leo's in the vineyard.
That's the last bottle.
Wine from the city.
What about mine?
It says "sparkling champagne."
Hey, Libero, what's this for, a wedding or a funeral?
There, in the vineyard.
Destiny.
Both born on the same day.
And destiny calls for a drink, right?
Signor Alfredo, you know how many of us Dalcos there are now?
I've lost count.
Well, I know that when we sit down to eat,
there are 40 of us at the table.
You're a lucky man, Leo. Admit it.
He may be a bastard, but at least he's a boy.
Don't boys eat like everybody else?
What the hell is bothering you?
Mine was born first. It's only natural.
First came the peasants of this world, and then came the padrone.
Masters, peasants. Balls!
When you're born, you're all born equal.
All equal, huh?
You!
What are you standing there for? Drink up.
Drink up, you bastards!
Drink with me.
Are we drinking or not?
Born together. Must mean something.
Probably means we die together.
You shit-pile philosopher.
I want mine to study law.
Mine thieving.
You might as well make him a priest.
Oh, this wine's not ours. Too dry.
I didn't like it, either.
Rigoletto, run down to the town hall.
Tell them the boy's name is Alfredo.
Berlinghieri, Alfredo,
born of Giovanni and Eleonora née Rosetti.
Leo,
what will you call yours?
What are you going to call yours?
Olmo.
Like an elm tree.
Born of the late Oscar and Rosina Campo.
Oscar?
Oscar's been dead for four years.
That's the point. Have some respect for the dead.
Oh, you bastards.
In the deep of the summer
In a heat that was stifling
There were born two male children
The distance was trifling
Rigoletto, here, have a drink.
Jackasses!
With the Pope as a peasant
Linked by fate in that hour
To the padrone's grandson
Heir to riches and power
What do you think, huh?
Leo. Leo, come on. You must try it, too.
I'm not climbing on that red devil.
I can't tell who rakes faster,
a man with a horse and a machine
- or a man with heart and muscle. - Orso! Orso, come and see it!
- Go a little faster! - We'll soon be able to tell.
There.
What? What is it?
There.
What's written there?
What do you think of that? Half an acre in
10 minutes, all alone.
It would have taken six men at least half a day.
What about this?
Surely you can't call this a good job, eh, Signor Giovanni?
- Look at all the hay it leaves behind. - A little hay is nothing, huh?
You don't agree, huh?
Don't you realize, you dumb ox,
that this is an imported piece of machinery,
and we're the first in the whole valley to have a mechanical hay-raker?
Well, then blessed are the last to have one.
Who needs a machine that looks like a hyena, Signor Giovanni?
Nineteen!
They stink, and besides, you're disgusting.
Hey! Twenty!
Twenty!
You haven't seen anything yet.
- Here, kiss it. Bite it. Eat it. - Jump in the lake.
Olmo, the bastard
Olmo, the...
Here, eat it, and burn in hell.
Coward!
Go ahead! Run, you yellow-belly!
You're the yellow-belly. You pick on girls and babies.
I say you can't even last at follow the leader.
And I say I can, too.
Go piss in your pocket!
I'll fix you.
What are you doing?
Screwing the earth.
- Now what are you doing? - Listening to my father speak to me.
In the telegraph pole?
I can't hear anything.
Are you crazy?
We'll see who's brave and who's yellow.
When it starts to go over, shut your eyes,
or it will blind you.
I'll make sure you don't run away.
No, no! Let me go! Let me go!
You see? You're yellow! You're a coward!
Olmo! Olmo!
Olmo!
Are you dead or alive?
Ding-dong, ding-dong.
The devil cared, the padrone's scared.
How far is it from here to the Madonna of the Fields?
As far as it's always been, about 3 kilometers.
Once I saw a train
as long as from here to the Madonna's shrine.
I got a train in my pants that's longer than that!
Listen, he's only bragging.
Talk about trains. You see that contraption outside?
You don't want to use it because you are ignorant, afraid.
You're an enemy of progress, that's what you are.
With that contraption, I work less, and that's fine with me.
Well, who pays for it, huh? Who pays for it?
The padrone, who else?
Everyone but the padrone. It's we, the workers, who pay the bill.
That's what we're for.
He even infected you. Look at the bugs.
Olmo gave the lice to everyone.
Your son's filthy. He should be deloused.
Of course he should be deloused! Someone must help me.
Your Olmo's a pig.
Today your little Olmo found a live frog and forced my little Nina to eat it.
Besides, what do any of you know about philosophy?
Nothing at all, that's what.
I'm the only one here who's been to any meetings
to try to create a union.
Because anyone who understands must follow those meetings,
and must travel around to preach the great, new justice
to the unlucky peasants who work out their lives and sweat,
profiting not themselves, but only the padrone.
Amen.
Look at that.
Who is crying?
Rosina wants to send Olmo to the seminary.
- Why? - Why?
The boy's the devil.
They want to take him away from me, my own son.
Turn him into a priest.
Nothing's for nothing. You had your fun. Well, now you pay.
Come on, now, it can happen to anybody.
Cut it out.
It seems to me, she's got a lot more than most.
When you hatch a bastard, he always turns out evil.
Bastard?
Who said, "bastard"?
There are no bastards in my house.
Olmo's the brother of your sons because his father's one of us.
Is that true or not?
Rosina?
Is that true or not?
You tell them, Rosina. You know.
It's true. Of course I know.
If I don't, who does?
Olmo!
Olmo, they called you.
It was Leo.
Hey! Hey!
Dalco, Olmo.
- Where's he going? - There he is.
Come on, give him here!
Let go! Let go!
Get him up on the table.
Get up there!
Dalco, Olmo,
now that you are grown...
And still piss in your pants.
Come here.
Remember this.
You will learn to read,
you will learn to write,
but you will still remain Dalco, Olmo,
son of peasants.
Doomed to hunger.
You will go off to the army.
You will see the world.
You may even learn to obey.
With kicks in the ass from morning till night.
You will take a wife.
You will work for the lives of your children.
The best thing is to learn to be patient.
- But who will you remain always? - Dalco, Olmo.
And that's who you are, Olmo.
A peasant!
Understand?
No priests in this house.
- What do you have in your hand? - Nothing.
Signor Giovanni gave it to me. I sold him my frogs.
It's mine.
If it is yours, then it belongs to all of us.
- It's too high. I'll fall. - "It's too high. I'll fall."
I wish you would and break your neck. You're nothing but a big sissy.
Alfredo, Regina, come to dinner.
A card came from my brother, the Parisian.
"Here, in the ville lumière, I'm thinking of you all with affection.
"Best regards as ever, Ottavio."
Alfredo!
Affection and best regards.
He hasn't written in over a year.
He doesn't feel at home here and never has, you know that.
He has nothing but contempt for us.
What are you saying? What contempt? You're always exaggerating.
Your brother Ottavio, he knows how to live.
Paris, Maxim's, champagne, gigolos.
- We sacrifice, while he devours money. - His allowance is a good meal.
- Got here first. - Why do we have to keep calling you?
Regina!
- I'll serve. - The frogs look juicy.
Really plump.
- Alfredo. - No, no frogs.
Oh, come on, don't be a baby.
They're really disgusting. Awful.
Where are your manners, Alfredo?
Wait till you get in the army.
You'll wish you had something as fresh and delicious as that.
Bullshit.
My brother? Was that my brother who spoke?
Regina.
- Thank you. - Who are those two?
You ask me the same thing every evening.
It's my sister and her little girl, Regina.
Oh.
Alfredito,
my dinner.
Go, and come right back.
Gets worse every day.
How much longer can he last?
Oh, patience, patience.
He's eight years younger than me, my brother,
and you would have him dead already.
Can you imagine Ottavio, with the excuse that he's the oldest,
coming here to act as lord and master of the place?
He was born with the grace of true nobility.
Well, it is the same with me.
I was certainly not born a nun.
I'm going to be a nun, too, when I grow up.
- Want a shot? - Oh, yes.
Hug the stock.
Right elbow out.
Keep both eyes open.
- You see that family of vultures? - Yes.
- The old black one with the beady eyes? - Yes.
That's your target.
Bang. Bang.
You got her. You got her!
Imagine the shock.
My husband goes bankrupt and runs off to South America,
Leaving his wife and little daughter penniless.
- If it hadn't been for all of you... - Don't, Amelia.
Won't I ever see my father again?
He's your new father, now. Aren't you, Giovanni?
Of course. If I didn't support them, who would?
But you. You will go on calling me uncle.
There they are. I'll take Regina.
No, Regina's mine. Regina's mine.
Aim, fire! Bang!
Right between the eyes.
And now for the jackals.
Aim, fire!
Well?
Old fool.
Get back to the table.
Get back to the table, I said.
And you. Shame on you.
The table! Get going!
Idiot.
Shame on you, at your age.
There's an ocean between us.
Between me and the rest of you.
An ocean!
Talk, talk.
Buy machines.
The place is going to rack and ruin.
You'll find that mechanical reaper up your ass, Mr. Modernizer.
You eat your meal.
You go to hell if you don't eat.
Piss in your pocket.
- Where did you hear talk like that? - From a friend.
I mean, I'm not about to part with a cent, or give away the tiniest piece of land.
You can believe me.
Big talk, my dear, since your father prefers Ottavio.
Look, I only happen to be here because all of this estate belong to me.
All of it to me! Else, I be...
You know how I feel about Ottavio? Well, I'm envious. Yes, dear.
To be able to escape this family.
Just imagine how it would be to spend all that money in six months.
A millionaire surrounded with whores.
An ocean of shit.
Oh, really, now!
What was the point in hammering at the poor child like that?
I prefer educating my boy the way I see fit.
Alfredo!
Don't worry. When he's hungry, he'll come back. I assure you.
These aren't lice. They're roast chickens, that's what they are.
Keep still, keep still.
A little fuzz on top, and the rest bald as a cucumber.
Keep still, keep still.
Once a hunchback Win a lady hunchback
Win her with a song
And a lot of little hunchbacks came along
Came along
I'll never return home anymore.
I'm going to live with Uncle Ottavio.
Alfredo!
Alfredo, where are you?
- Evening, Signor Padrone. - Good evening.
Come back to the house, you hear me?
Good evening, Signor Giovanni.
Hey, you.
- Have you seen Alfredo? - No, I haven't.
Go to bed, pumpkin head.
It's late.
Olmo.
- Olmo. - What is it?
Come to bed.
You know I can't sleep if you don't.
If my father was here, they would never shave my head.
He would've shown them.
Once I heard him calling me late at night from inside a well.
Alfredo!
Let's both of us run away.
Alfredo!
And I heard him once in an old squash calling out to me. Olmo!
Alfredo.
And in a dark cellar, from inside the bottle, I heard him call.
Olmo!
- Alfredo. - Olmo.
Hey, let's see you fly, cuckoo birds.
No, don't, you're going to make me fall.
- Red, but not ripe. - Your daughter?
Your daughter's marrying Mario, the cripple, in August, eh?
- What do you think? - What's the problem?
Go and dance.
Hey.
Hey, you, driver.
Come back here. Come back.
Don't leave that horse standing there untied.
Come back.
You son of a...
I don't have the breath to
give a simple order anymore.
God damn it!
Listen.
Beautiful music.
Young people dancing, embracing.
Before the day's out, they'll be fucking.
Anyway, this is no place for old men.
It's a hot day, eh, Signor Padrone?
Who are you?
Sir, it's Erma. I'm the youngest daughter of Adelina.
I'm not used to wearing shoes, and my stupid feet swelled up.
But they're pretty, aren't they?
They're a present. The padrona, she said they're Regina's.
Erma, come.
Erma.
Signor Padrone?
Don't be frightened. Don't be frightened.
Don't be frightened.
Take it.
You squeezed me, so I got scared.
- Milk her. - But the cows aren't mooing yet.
Can't you see how full she is?
Milk her.
Squish, squash.
Cows full of milk and shit.
A curse.
A curse we carry with us.
It grows worse with age.
You know what the worst curse in the world is?
Hailstorms.
Not hailstorms.
That's no curse.
Milk and shit in the brain.
War and disease,
they're no curse, either.
Squish, squash.
The curse is when you can't do it.
Milk and shit.
Can't do it.
It won't get hard.
See?
Put your hand inside.
Hey, Signor Alfredo, nobody can milk a bull.
Go.
Go back to the dance.
Can I really go?
Go. Go.
Erma.
When the dancing is over,
tell them I'm dead.
Yes, signor.
Remember,
- I'm dead. - Yes.
The padrone, my God.
The padrone is dead.
The padrone told me to say he's dead.
I was supposed to.
You think it could be true?
Pour the water out so we can get the nightingale drunk.
Up to the top.
The padrone wants us to keep dancing.
He's giving us orders even after he's dead.
Music!
If only you could see yourself now, Signor Alfredo.
This is no way for a padrone to die.
What did you have to turn the cows loose for, eh?
So I'd have more work to do?
Maybe...
Maybe the truth is that when a man does nothing all his life,
it leaves him too much time to think.
And thinking too much makes him...
Makes him stupid.
At least I knew who you were, and you knew me.
I knew who gave the orders.
A big, ugly bull!
But now, who knows what will happen without you?
I, Alfredo Berlinghieri,
being of sound mind and body,
wish to make my last will and testament.
I hereby declare
my younger son, Giovanni,
as my sole heir.
And I leave to my elder son, Ottavio...
What did he say?
"To my elder son, Ottavio."
...elder son Ottavio,
I leave an annuity of 5,000 lira a year,
to be paid to him for the rest of his life by my sole heir,
Giovanni Berlinghieri.
And I also leave him my town residence.
Furthermore, it shall hereby be understood
that the entire Berlinghieri estate consisting...
Go back to bed, Alfredo.
Grandfather's not well. Go back to bed.
Consisting of
the entire Berlinghieri estate...
Grandpa's dead!
No. No. No, no!
- Consisting of... - Grandpa's dead! Grandpa's dead!
...900 acres of cultivated land,
the family villa,
the farmhouses,
machinery and tools,
and all the livestock,
the cattle,
the horses and the pigs,
the sheep,
I give to my son, Giovanni.
This turban
once belonged to a hunter of tigers.
Uncle Ottavio, let me go away with you.
Why? Don't you like it here?
They're all liars.
- And where shall we go? - On a sail ship.
- A sail ship? - Yes.
Like this one?
Put that silkworm down!
- Put it down! - Why should I?
Because you know they're all in my care.
But I can touch all these silkworms as much as I please.
You're stupid.
No.
You know, I'm padrone.
But the nests are mine. Nobody's to interfere.
Why not?
Because I feed them, understand? Set them down.
Only when I feel like it.
Even if you feed them, the silkworms are still all mine.
And the fruit is mine, too.
And the mechanical reaper.
And the wheat is mine.
This worm is mine. The cows are all mine.
Even the Dalco family belongs to me.
And you belong to me, too.
- You filthy maggot, let him go! - No!
Burn in hell! You'll burn in hell!
Burn in hell!
Come back here, you yellow-belly.
Oh, Madonna. Give me a hand before we both get it.
I could beat you with one hand behind me.
I'm afraid you couldn't beat a frog, not if you tried.
Here, you may have your stupid silkworm back.
This one's still squirming. The others have already woven their nests.
It's not a bird, you dunce.
Those are called pupae, or cocoons if they're already formed.
You better take those wet things off.
Pretty light.
And, look, whenever it finally flies off, it'll be a butterfly.
- I missed ever seeing them. - Like my little sister.
She hatched in the night, and like a butterfly, just flew away.
- Why did she fly away? - She was born dead.
That isn't true. When you're dead, you're dead.
You don't fly anywhere.
You get buried in the ground, and that's it.
- It must hurt a lot. - Why should it hurt?
- Skin's all back. - Let's see if yours is any different.
Looks just like a cocoon.
Pull the skin back and it'll look just like mine.
- It won't go. - Well, pull harder.
It burns.
It burns because you're not courageous, and you're not a socialist.
What's that mean?
You're talking to a socialist with holes in his pocket.
"A socialist with holes in his pocket"?
Oh, forget it. What do you know anyhow?
Don't be so smart, and put this on.
- No, I don't want it. - Don't be so childish.
It stopped hailing. Listen.
Look, look. Look out of this window.
- What's that? - It's the city, of course.
It can't be the city. The city's too far away.
That's the city, I tell you. Look.
And there's the cathedral, with the dome.
I recognize it 'cause I've been there with my Uncle Ottavio.
And way on top, there are all those tall houses.
Those aren't houses. They're bell towers.
Look at the fire that's pouring out of that one.
That's a factory, Olmo.
Do they have a view of us,
just like we have a view of them, would you say?
Papa, you can see the city from the loft,
and we could see the buildings and the stables.
Not now. Later.
Signor Giovanni.
Not since the year I was married have I seen a hailstorm such as this.
Get all your people here.
The day laborers, too.
I'll be waiting in the field.
- Hey, Orso! - Orso!
- Turo! - Turo!
- Penzo! - Penzo!
- Oreste! - Oreste!
- Amoretto! - Amoretto!
- Ganco! - Ganco!
- Reccione! - Reccione!
- Montanaro! - Montanaro!
Everybody! Everybody in the field!
Now, let's face facts, men.
We lost everything.
Wine, tomatoes, potatoes, corn, everything.
So now, we'll have to make some kind of sacrifice.
Isn't that so, Leo?
What's happened? Lost your tongue, have you?
Go ahead, tell them.
How much grain have we lost? Tell them.
- Half. - Half, you say.
So, it's simple.
We'll have to be satisfied with half pay. Take it or leave it.
When we harvest double, we don't get double pay.
If I were to be honest...
If I were to look after my interests alone,
I shouldn't need you, fire the lot of you,
especially all you day laborers.
And if you here weren't such an ignorant bunch,
you would thank me,
because the one making the biggest sacrifice is me.
What's the problem, anyway?
Who gives the orders here? Who's the padrone?
Hey, you!
We've lost nearly everything, didn't you hear?
And yet, your ears are both big enough.
Padrone, what you're doing is a sin, and we'll remember it.
Your father was good. He never did us evil.
You are an evil man. You bring sorrow to us.
That man has lost his ear, but you have lost your soul.
I leave you with a curse, a curse no priest can ever lift,
to rule by the new padrone.
It's food. Everyone into the house.
Were you hurt bad?
No.
An accident, my own fault.
Poor Vittorio.
Papa, there's no more polenta.
Papa, I'm still hungry.
You will forget about hunger if you listen to me.
Water!
Let the water through.
It's the beginning.
- What of? - Workers' leave.
- What did they say? - To move on.
Call the strike for tomorrow.
- You're going to go? - Everybody's got to go.
Well, what's going on here?
We're striking, that's what. Everybody's agreed.
Striking?
You know what that means, strike?
I said, do you know what that means?
That means these hands won't work anymore.
They won't reap anymore.
Never harvest anymore.
Never, never, never, never milk. Never dig anymore.
Everything comes to a standstill.
And the land... The land dies.
Do you really think you can go through with this?
Yes. Now we got the League.
The League?
What is this League?
Does the League tell you
that we'll end up eating the grass from these ditches, eh?
That we'll become evil, really evil?
The League tell you all this?
It did. The League understands. The League is for us.
You can fight back with the League, and I'll show you how.
The strike is on!
- The strike is on! - The strike is on!
Strike!
- The strike is on! - The strike is on!
- Strike! - Strike!
You know I like this song.
The strike is on!
- Strike! - Strike!
- Strike is on! - Strike!
- Strike. - Strike!
The strike is on!
- Strike! - Strike!
They should milk the poor things. They're mooing.
I hear them. The strike paralyzing the servants, too?
Dear Zolina, send a boy out to buy some milk in town.
Tell him if he sees a Dalco to move along.
Don't talk to those people.
It's absolutely ridiculous.
Over 100 cows in the barn and we have to buy milk.
Those bastards are absolutely going to ruin me!
It's against the law.
What they're doing out there is uncivilized.
And I can't beat any sense into them.
Not even with old Leo.
Sooner or later they'll have to give in.
Meanwhile the cows are full to bursting, and the grain rots in the field.
Why don't you eat?
Listen to this.
"Talks between the Labor League and the Landowner's Association
"have been broken off.
"The strike area is patrolled, day and night, by a cavalry regiment.
"'We will not be coerced,' said the association's representative..."
Stop that.
"'...by a league of rabble-rousers.
"'We'll oppose their boycott by imposing lockouts.
"'We'll counter violence with violence.'
"The speaker went on to say that the only fair verdict is the whip,
"to be used on those workers guilty of sabotage."
Grandfather, what are scabs?
Scabs are lousy bastards who work when other men are on strike.
- Why don't they want to strike, too? - Because they're ignorant.
They're even more ignorant than we are.
Listen, listen. Hear the music.
Of course.
Good day, padre.
Hey, look over there.
Look at Signor Giovanni trotting up and down.
Oh, there's Passetti. He has to work sitting down.
And over there, that's Carbonini. He's the lawyer.
And the girl with the long braids, that's his daughter.
- Are they all scabs? - No, no. Landowners.
How funny they look
Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding...
Olmo.
Olmo, come here.
Can this be what they call socialism?
All the rich out there sweating
and the poor folks lying under a tree,
flat on our backs?
It's too good to last.
You're a lucky boy, you are, Olmo.
- Why? - Why?
It took me 73 years to see a landlord working.
That's right. You finish setting the traps.
Hey, Olmo.
Fetch some leaves. Make a little breeze.
I always loved the wind.