Many things had to happen
It was necessary that I suffered,
you suffered, so much
I existed because you existed
Now I am tranquil, clinging to my roots
I feel as though I exist no more
BEFORE THE REVOLUTION
Story and scenario
Leading players
Direction
Those who have not lived the years before the revolution...
...cannot realise the sweetness of life. Talleyrand
Parma on a Sunday in April, 1962, just before Easter
Then, Church, I had come to you
In my hand Pascal and "Songs of the Greek People"
With new dreams, the Resistance swept away...
...old dreams of regions united in Christ
Woe to those who do not know this Christian faith is bourgeois...
...signified by every privilege...
...every surrender, every subjugation
And sin is only the rejection of bourgeois values...
...retained through fear and sterility...
...and that the Church is the pitiless heart of the state
As in a dream, the gates of the town meet me...
...ramparts, customs houses, church towers like minarets...
...domes like stone hills, grey roofs, open terraces...
...and below are the streets, districts, squares...
...and the river dividing the two towns, the rich from the poor
Again the square, in the centre yet so near the fields...
...that sometimes it smells of hay
The square, with us inside, like a great, walled arena
Once more among historical images, remote images...
...the Church alone is their history...
...all vague desires of freedom stifled by Catholicism
My ilk, the bourgeois of Parma; they of the midday Mass
Have they been born to life?
Does the present resound in them as it does in me, insatiably?
Clelia
We've always been engaged, predestined for each other
But Clelia is the town...
...that part of the town I have rejected
Clelia is that sweetness of life I don't want to accept
Fabrizio!
I've found her. Here, with her mother
For this, a last hopeless act of love...
...I've gone from church to church, looking for Clelia
I wanted to see her for the last time
-What's the time? -Three
You must join the party
It's important; for politics... and for poetry, too
Then whatever you do or say has a meaning
If you make a mistake, that, too, has a meaning
I used to be in constant anguish, like a sort of guilt complex
Cesare helped me overcome this cowardice. I'd like to help you
Don't leave home only to go back
I must go to see Cesare now. See you tomorrow
Red River is on at Peace Cinema! Don't miss it!
People who run away from home make me laugh... the escapists
Why?
It's childish. It's too easy to behave as you do
You refuse, you complain, you run away
You run when they try to gag you. But there's another way
Which way?
I can't do more
Even running away is an achievement... and don't sneer
If you think your father's a thieving, opportunist hypocrite...
If your mother's stupid...
I've never said that
Maybe my father is a thief
My mother is too stupid to understand anything
But you should keep your mouth shut. Understand?
What right have you to judge?
And you, what do you do?
What do you think you're up to? A revolution?
This is for my father
This is for my mother
This is for me
-What's the matter? -Wine is so good
Come on, Iet's go to see Red River
You must go to see Cesare. Go on, he's expecting you
Bloody hell!
You look wonderful
So do you
I like your hair like that
Look who's here
Did you have a good journey from Milan?
He was doing his homework
Hello, Gina
I'm afraid I have to go out now
-To meet the comrades, I bet -Yes, that's right
See you tomorrow, eh?
Don't be late
It's no use. You'll have to wheel it to his home
-Who drowned? -Bertoli's son
Did you see what happened?
Didn't he speak to anyone?
Enore, over here!
-Who are you calling? -My elder brother
I've found a job
Down there. Loading the lorries
-You saw? -Yes, I saw everything
What happened?
I saw it all. It happened down there
He spoke to me from where you were standing
He asked me if the water was cold and I said it wasn't really
-Are you a relative? -No, a friend
He said he'd just eaten. I said that didn't matter
I think it's only dangerous to swim some time after eating
It seems that gentlemen are more delicate
He jumped out at first, because his feet were frozen
He swam out that way
Did he say anything then?
Only that it was his first swim this year
-What's your name? -William
-Enore, how old are you? -Seventeen
-Where do you live? -At the shacks
Agostino had fair, untidy hair
It looked more like a canary's feathers
He had fine features
Like a Norwegian, but his eyes gave him a crazy air
Like one of those hitch-hikers
I'm still here, you know
He was still at college; he changed colleges every year
His parents say all colleges are alike, provided they're in Switzerland
He was almost twenty. A living legend
People told all sorts of stories about him...
...and he believed the myth himself
I used to talk to him in Cesare's words
I hoped they were clearer than mine
And to think I wanted to teach Agostino...
...but I never understood him
He ran off time and again, but he rarely got as far as Milan
Then he'd return to borrow my books, which he said were all wrong
How he'd suffer if he saw all these people...
...who've come to view him dead, all these acquaintances in mourning
No, I don't want to
You mustn't behave like this
I'll stay with him
What are you doing?
Looking up the route back. You're pretty poor company
What do you do in Milan?
Nothing... I play at thought transmission...
I'm a wonderful shot... I play the triangle...
I have three baths a day...
I keep crying... I keep laughing...
We last met at a funeral, you know
We didn't speak. I left without greeting you
You helped me with my coat, remember?
I've been in Milan all these years, of course
I heard of you occasionally. You were small; I was growing up
I don't think I'll grow any more
Tall, grown-up people are never attractive
I don't even like myself. Not a scrap
And why don't you look at me, at least?
-Can you ride a bike? -Certainly; I even raced
Ever run away from home?
No need to. It's enough to stay at home when others go out
If the others... stay at home... then one must escape, of course
I was famous for such things; now everyone's got used to me
I'm sorry
Agostino had fair hair
It looked like a canary's feathers... Did you say that?
I'd like someone to talk of me as you did of him
But they never will... so I must do it myself
How long do condolences take?
What do they say? Commonplace things
Why don't you like yourself? Why don't you like adults?
Who said I didn't? I like them very much. Tall and fair
It's not true I can ride a bike. I fall off
Why don't you say something?
Don't look at me like that. What can I do?
I wanted to make you laugh
Don't brood over it
I know it so well
At my father's funeral, too...
Your grandfather
I'd often dreamed of his death, and dreamed I died, too
But I'd envisaged it differently...
...because reality... is much worse
One thinks about such things, prepares oneself...
One prepares... and then can't stand it
One can't take that kind of grief. You'd have understood
I didn't even bother to wear a black dress
I was so close to him
It's terrible to think how near to death the living are
Yet one can't share death with the dead
One can't enter the coffin with them
One's left more alive than ever. One feels like moving about...
...talking... gesticulating...
And I wanted to console you
It's always a mistake to return; things are never the same
Neither the people nor the places
How long...
How long the afternoons are in Parma. Tonight I'll return to Milan
I'm all alone. Luckily Cesare is here
I feel like a pigeon in the square, by Garibaldi’s monument
Cesare's my Garibaldi, on his own pedestal
I'll be all alone if you go; but you won't
Aunts should be respected, unfettered
It's difficult to make oneself clear. You must stay for me, and for yourself
I'll stay to learn Italian. Then I'll leave
For ever
But now pretend you need me
It's a lie... but I'll do it
-Aren't you coming? -You go, I'll wait for the sun
-But I told Cesare... -Be quick, don't keep me waiting
I'll just say hello to him
I saw you
-It's no good hiding -I'm locked in
Come down, or I'll tell your parents
You can't. Everyone's gone away
I know you're there
What are you doing? Why don't you answer?
Where did your boyfriend go?
Comb your hair. You look like a witch
Your hair is so lovely
This is lovers' lane. I know a good place, there are lots of trees
Shall I show you?
Will you teach me that song? How does it go?
Fabrizio
What's your name?
Enough!
Stop it!
Gina, talk to me!
I'm sorry
I don't know what happened... I'm not feeling well...
First of all, forgive me
And please don't ask questions
I'm too sensitive. I'd feel as if I were in prison
I don't know if you're just curious, or whether it's something more
But realise that you realise. Your face quickly clouds over...
...and as quickly brightens
The only remedy for my pain is other people
People... You
And the cure for boredom I seek
Serried ranks of villas...
...pursue each other
Clouds pursue clouds. You pursue me pursuing you
My nephew of Parma
Without saying anything, I've told you all
Don't ask questions... Don't ask questions...
My necklace
Does it mean bad luck?
I'll buy another like it tomorrow
You even wanted to watch me dress
WhiIe I put on my stockings and my panties...
Extraordinary, eh?
Tell the truth. Were you disappointed?
Be serious. Can't one love all sorts of things?
Even a woman's way of dressing?
Your mother is taller, different...
Forget it
...but made like me
Damn all this rain
It's your fault, too. You're a man now...
...and we're equals
A rainy Easter. How boring
Usually, when it rains like this I can't sleep
Why did you put your hands over my mouth?
Did my cries upset you?
-I didn't want them to hear -Who could hear?
People are there. If we're quiet, we'll hear the women getting up
-Which women? -The maids, grandmother
Are you mad?
Where are we?
Back of the house. Once it used to be a print shop
I used to play here, alone
I'm glad it happened here. Are you sorry? Shall we go back?
Come and see
Bodoni. That name always used to amuse me
I imagined he was a fat man, like Oliver Hardy
On Easter morning the bells pealed over the city
They were in a deep sleep
They slept on... a scandal...
...for the rest of the household was ready for Mass
"Salan confesses: everything collapsed about us"
"General Salan was taken to prison in handcuffs"
Where's my wife? Where's your mother?
Probably gone to lie down
The stew was better than at Christmas; it was cooked longer
One always eats too much in Parma. First one eats, then talks about it
Double work, like eating twice
Many people don't leave the table between lunch and dinner
Twelve hours eating. A gastronomic marathon
Here's something to please the farmers: more rain
There's never enough rain, is there, mother?
I'm going to bed. Wake me at four
Now you dance with me
But I can't
It's a camera obscura, all done with mirrors
It's magic, but true. Still, it's magic
You're happy, but it won't last. Fabrizio, I know it won't last
It's useless. You'll remember me as if I were dead
Then after a time you'll forget me completely
Finally, you'll hate me
It's not my fault. I promised nothing, and you mustn't sulk at me
I'm fond of you
I love you, even if I don't say so
You are a thousand, ten thousand times better than me
I'm nothing... I'm worth nothing
How nice to steal this trick and speak to you when you're not with me
Where are you?
Did you like the film? Not bad, eh?
Passable cinéma vérité in colour
On Sundays they used to spy on the girls going to Mass
Then there were the fairs, the acrobats, the performing bears...
I wouldn’t exchange this moment for any other
Even if it is passing, I'll forgive it, I don't mind
I'm not like you at all
I've no courage, I'm a coward. You can't guess what I'm really like
I'd like nothing to move, everything still
Like a picture. And us in the picture, motionless
No more May, June, July, August, September...
September... where will we be in the autumn?
-I won't go in -You must meet Cesare this time
This is a surprise, I didn't expect you
Gina, this is Cesare
Yes, I'm his aunt from Milan
-The smoke, huh? -Yes, the smoke!
Franklin stoves are all like that
Can we come in?
Of course, come into the kitchen
No, better not, it's in a terrible mess
I know the girl who lives opposite
In the tower? I know Evelina, too. A peasant family, very poor
Anything to drink?
There's some nice white wine. Or would you prefer Kümmel?
No, I get drunk easily
Have the wine
It's a light Confirmation wine. You'll like it
When I'm here, Gina...
...I'm in my real element
You're the first person I've ever brought here. A privilege
It doesn't work, it's broken
Mind what you're doing. It's not like yours
What's that?
Some act only when motivated by passion. He has a calling to teach
But he knows that only children can be taught
Our teacher explained to us...
...that the word freedom means justice and democracy
On 25th April last year, Fascism ended and peace began
The one duty we owe to history is to rewrite it
When we have fully discovered the scientific laws that govern life...
...we'll realise that the one who has more illusions than the dreamer...
...is the man of action
But men are the slaves of words
They rage against Materialism...
...forgetting that there has been no material improvement...
...that has not spiritualised the world...
...and that there have been few, if any, spiritual awakenings...
...that have not wasted the world's faculties in barren hopes
He explained that the partisans died for democracy
Democracy needs daily attention, like the land
Teacher comes from the town, but makes us write about the country
"Essays" and "Problems" - both misspelt
He was a nice kid. Intelligent. Understood more than the others
I'm naive, you know
For seventeen years I've set that essay on 25th April
Italians have never been sensitive to that sort of thing
I mean, they understand, but they forget quickly. Too quickly
You were young in 1945. Were you teaching then?
It was my first year
What a year, 1945. How disordered I was
You're very good at ordering other people’s minds
Ordering
-I don't know what I'd do with your order -You conform
Life is not orderly... fortunately
We can't conform to the world as it is
-We want to change it -To change it?
You can't change people. Not even one
I know from myself, because I'll never change
You're apart from history
That's how history moves
History is time, isn't it?
Nun, wife, widow, spinster, nun...
I know time doesn't exist
All very beautiful, but not new. You read Proust...
I know a story older than Proust
Once upon a time there was an old sage, like you...
...who had a young disciple, like him...
...and they were travelling across the country
One day the old sage said to the young man:
"I'm thirsty, please get me some water"
The young man agreed
Along the road he stopped at a fountain...
...and beyond the fountain he saw a wonderful, marvellous country
He was fascinated
There he met an extraordinary, moody girl - yes, like you
They married, raised a family
Not fair; you know the story
After twenty years, they died of a terrible plague
Only he survived, an ageing man
Desperate, he set off on the road again
Finally, he came to the place where he left the sage
Whom did he see sitting there?
The sage, still waiting. And what did he say?
"How long does it take you to fetch water for me?
"I've waited all afternoon"
You see, time doesn't exist. Understand?
A lifetime for the disciple...
...but the sage was still waiting for the water
Despite wisdom, people have always starved
Now you're talking like a book again
I thought you two always agreed
Certainly. We discuss because we agree
I'd be bored
I've decided that there's only one sort of person to talk to:
someone who shares one's ideas
I'm a chameleon. Other people’s ideas change my colour
What does that mean?
Probably that you're so sure of yourself...
...that you can receive everything and lose nothing
You're right, I do talk like a book
I have to speak like a book to sound convincing
But don't forget I speak like the books you give me
Remember Ripeness is all, by Pavese?
I'm told someone came looking for me a few days ago
About 10 or 10.30 in the morning. I was at school
A fair-haired lad with a bike. They didn't tell me his name
A green bike?
I don't know; I could ask
Agostino was looking for you
He came looking for me?
I promised to bring him
He was ready to meet you, he always asked about you
He was interested in our talks
He thought he hated everyone; he hated only himself
It's as though he killed himself
You know it was an accident. You mustn't talk like that
He lived alone and he died alone
The cruellest thing is to disbelieve someone's sorrow
Yes, it's me, Gina
I swear I'm not in Milan, I'm phoning from Parma
I got your letter. Yes, the weather's nice. We're all fine
Enough small talk!
Take a look out of the window
It's almost light. It's four in the morning
I'm here in a room that's not mine... who do you expect?
No. I am well
You know I can't stay in too small a room
And this room... I don't know it
It's so empty... it frightens me
Nothing but four white walls
In my house, by the bed, remember, there's a lamp on all night
Here there's only an enormous lamp in the ceiling
It's your fault, you made me go. You sent me here
It's not true I can't live alone. You were cheating me, doctor
I could come to you every day
Maybe you didn't want to see me any more
But here nobody knows me!
I was in bed by midnight, but instead of sleeping...
...I lay listening to all the clocks in the town
One, two, three... I'm always here, awake
And boys talk under the window and they never sleep
But who could hear me in this room? This house is so big
I'm sorry, have I woken your wife?
It's almost day now
I think I'll never sleep in this house
Listen. Can you hear that?
A cart passing by
Yes, I'm looking at myself. In a mirror
I look a mess
I don't feel like combing my hair. If you saw my face...
A bath now?
I don't feel like one. You say that to get rid of me
All right, then
Don't get angry, will you?
Do you think I can go back to Milan?
I'm opening the door. Don't hang up
Can I go back to Milan?
About time, too
I've been looking all over Parma for you
Meet... Carlo, isn't it?
I've been to all the carés, everywhere
In twenty years, Anna Karina will be what Louise Brooks is to us now
She'll represent a whole era; that's the miracle of cinema for me
What is so typical of 1946 as Bogart and Bacall in Hawks' The Big Sleep?
Am I boring you with all this?
Sorry, I was miles away
I thought your mind wasn't on the film
I don't even know what film it was. I just drifted into the cinema
I was there at six. I saw the programme twice
I can't bear some films
I've seen Journey to ltaly 15 times. How can one live without Rossellini?
You're an addict. Is this an inquisition?
You say Resnais and Godard are escapist
But Une femme est une femme is more engagé than De Santis and Lizzani
You're mad. Are you trying to pull my leg?
Style. Moral fact
-What's up? -I'm in love
Then it's a problem of content, not a problem of style
It's never happened to me before. I didn't know what it meant
-Tell me -I don't understand anything any more
You thought love a superstructure? A woman's a woman
There are things in life one doesn't understand immediately
But they're important, they change a person
A tracking shot is style, but style is a moral fact
I remember a 360 degree pan in a Nicholas Ray film
One of the most engagé and thus most moral moments in film history
Reactionary. Maybe I should laugh, but I can't
I'm a bore who makes lists of films. You need to be left alone
Maybe you're right. I'll go
Take my scarf, it's cold outside
I live just over the road
Remember, Fabrizio, one can't live without Rossellini
Why are you here?
Who are you waiting for?
Why are you still awake?
Do you think you're Maciste, or Tarzan?
I wanted to come to your room...
...to box your ears and slap your face
Me or another man, it's all the same to you
Do what you like. You're unfettered
I just want you to know it's all over
I must talk to you. Come to my room
Why didn't you hit me this afternoon?
I wonder what that fellow made of your nasty look
He wanted my phone number
I promised to go to a football match with him on Sunday
Then I didn't feel like giving him my name and number, so he felt cheated
He got angry. You should have heard him
Because I wouldn’t tell him my phone number
He almost hit me because of a phone number
What are you thinking?
He was very respectable. He was nice, he said nice things to me
Don't you believe me?
It's true. Do you think I'm a liar?
Why did I go with him today? Because I needed to talk to someone
Even I don't know what I say
I'm an idiot, talking of non-things
The truth is... he treated me like men treat whores
He was a moralist
If he wanted to punish me, he was right
Because I deserve it, every day
I feel every fire is my fault
If a war breaks out, I think it's my fault
Even if there's a storm
If I meet the police I say: "I'm innocent"
He wasn't anyone special; one never meets special men
And I hate men. Hate them
With their women... their children... their families...
I like you because you're not a man yet
"This letter is to say I've loved you for a long time
"If you like me, tell me, for I think you do
"If we were on holiday and a storm broke and everything was spoiled...
"...the thought of it makes my blood run cold. Yours truly..."
As a boy I used to put spells on frogs
There's even a derogatory expression: "Spellbinding frogs"
Friendly mosquitoes...
Maybe they recognise me. These mosquitoes are strange
They don't bother me
My dear, great friend. My Puck
When I was a child I didn't love you as I do now
You spoiled me; now it's I who love you
And you... I don't know any more
Young liar. You know I always loved you
Let's put it to the test. Look me in the eye
You always guessed my secrets
If you don't trust your old friend, isn't that friendship dead?
I have a secret, a big secret
But if you guess it, we'll no longer be friends
Just look at my secrets
The lake, Padova the painter, the only person with whom I can talk
And there, hidden yet tangible, the River Po
So many people in one day. I'm not used to it
Listen... I forgot to tell you, I'm being shadowed
Fabrizio, my nephew
What are you doing here? Changed your taste today?
Some frogs are enormous, aren't they? But these are small, aren't they?
I'm interested in big ones, aren't I?
I longed to see you
You haven't changed. You seek me out when you're in love, in the wrong way
You're the same, too. You understood at once
Everything is so wrong. I can only run away
I didn't know you had such a big nephew. From Parma, eh?
That's obvious from the shoes
One could always find EngIish shoes in Parma, even during the war
We used to cross the Po to buy them
Then we believed it very important to be anglophile
What name?
This is good land, isn't it?
It's good, but it's all mortgaged
By 5th of May, I must find the money to repay the bank
Will you lose Stagno Lombardo?
I wonder who'll own Stagno Lombardo next year
Since my father died, five years ago, things have become worse
He'd never have died if he'd imagined such disaster
Can you imagine me without private means?
What shall I do?
Work? I've never worked, even for a joke
Land never Iets you down, they said; so I didn't take a degree
I'm ignorant and fit for nothing
I'd be ashamed to go and steal a salary
Whatever work I tried would be like stealing, cadging a meal
You've eaten well up to now. False sincerity makes me laugh
It's easy to examine one's conscience when one's broke
Why didn't you do it when you had those private means?
Fabrizio, don't be rude
You are right, Fabrizio. I'm your social equal now
I'm wrong to bore you with such a trifle
It's not a trifle
The fact is, there are too many trifles like yours
You don't know the power of habit, Fabrizio
One inherits attitudes; that's why I'm ashamed
Yes, habit justifies everything
Fascism, Franco, socialism... we get used to it all
And you say: "I'm unashamed"
You're stupid. Presumptuous
You talk so smugly, but you don't understand anything
You've got no right to talk
The river is finished
We must forget it
They tell us to say goodbye to it
They'll come with machines
They'll come with dredgers
There'll be different men, the sound of engines
Who will protect the poplars from frost?
Nothing will remain
Summer will go
Winter will disappear
It's over for you, too. Drift away from here
Sink that boat of yours. I'm speaking for you, too
We'll no more fish pike together...
...we won't even fish carp
No more ducks...
...no more geese will fall to our guns
The moorhens are finished
Farewell to all the wild birds
You see, my friends...
Here life ends and survival begins
Goodbye, Stagno Lombardo
Goodbye gun, goodbye river...
...goodbye Puck
What a beautiful light
It includes us all
Then I realised that Puck spoke for me, too
In him I saw myself, years later...
...and I felt there was no way out for us children of the bourgeoisie
Thanks for coming
-A taxi? -Let's walk, if you don't mind
At the end of summer every year in Ducal Park
It's all wrong, even this sort of entertainment
-What do you want, then? -Can't you guess?
I thought we spoke the same language
Some stars will make personal appearances, people enjoy that
That's what's all wrong
I've done party work on my holidays. This place is going to pot
Did you read about Marilyn?
Why did she do it? You've read the paper, haven't you?
She took sleeping pills
It's a publicity stunt
Her photo's in the paper. Wasn't she beautiful?
I still don't believe it
It was on the radio, too
People accept anything. It scares me
But it's we who give
They accept blindly. What if we're wrong?
Then we'd always have been wrong
In fact you were, and I'm not talking of small mistakes
In twenty years people still haven't gained a spark of conscience
We've plenty of evidence of a strong popular conscience
You know what I mean. The events of July 1960 aren't enough
One-day revolutions won't do
What about the strikes and union victories?
Strikes don't satisfy me. Neither do May Days with red flags
They sufficed in 1948, but who strikes for Angola’s freedom today?
Did anyone go to fight in Algeria?
Who protests in the square when a negro's killed in Alabama?
But protest in the square won't do now; I want a new sort of man
Wise enough to educate his parents. You know
The proletariat has ideals, don't forget
It has one irrational ideal
It's not its fault you allowed it to dream of bourgeois dignity
It wants to mix with the bourgeoisie...
...dress like it, see its shows, read its books
Workers want to improve their economic status. Why not?
Enore, where did you put that poster?
I put it back there. Near Castro
What did the party do for Agostino?
What did you do for Agostino?
His death woke you from your sleep
Why expect the party to do what you didn't?
For that reason
Now you're out, you think you're more in
I know your sort, but you've got a special problem
If you had the guts to talk about Gina...
Once you lent me a book with a phrase underlined
Men make their history in a milieu which conditions them
You interpreted it as men acting in an existing milieu
But history is made by men, not the milieu they inhabit
I am the failure of that phrase. One must open one's eyes
You wanted to change me; I hoped you would
But I'm a stone, I'll never change
I wanted to fill Gina with vitality. I filled her with anguish
She told me, slightly ashamed, she had "nervous fever"
I have a different fever, a nostalgia for the present
Each moment seems remote, even as I live it
I don't want to change the present
I accept it, but my bourgeois future is my bourgeois past
For me, ideology was something of a holiday
I thought I was living the revolution
Instead, I lived the years before the revolution
Because for my sort it's always before the revolution
The Communists disdain to conceal their views and aims
They openly declare that their ends can be attained...
...only by the forcible overthrow...
...of all existing social conditions
...the forcible overthrow of all existing social conditions
Let the ruling classes tremble at a Communist revolution
The proletarians have nothing to lose but their chains
They have a world to win. Workers of the world, unite!
Opening of the season at Teatro Regio, 26 December, 1962
-Will you come to the wedding? -Why not?
What do you think of Clelia's mother's idea of an early marriage?
They seem so young to me
What's Fabrizio's opinion?
He accepts everything now. He's changed a Iot
He ought to take his degree first
He'll take it
Where is he?
The sixth box of the second row; their family box
She's beautiful
But where is Fabrizio? I can't see him at all
He's hiding behind her
I'm so pleased about it
-I was waiting for you -I was looking for you
She's like a portrait by Parmigianino
The ideal woman for you. Everyone will be envious
I know you don't really like her
Maybe she doesn't understand as many things as you do...
...but she is so good, so simpIe
Not much, but just what I want at the moment
It's almost over
We'd better go
Macbeth is really beautiful. I heard it last year at La Scala...
...but here it seems better because the people believe it
Ten years ago I'd have scorned going to an opera
AIways Verdi. Our beloved Verdi
All that we are not. Enough Verdi! I'd prefer Mozart
Well... you've arrived, haven't you?
Listen, it's better like this, for you and for me
What else could happen?
You understood me better than anyone else
That's why you went, wasn't it? It was right
You decided for me, too
I know how I made you suffer
Don't think I didn't know
It's so cold here
Gina, could you still fall in love with me?
"Captain Ahab, I have heard of Moby Dick...
...but was it not Moby Dick that took off thy leg"
"Who told thee that?" cried Ahab
"Aye, Starbuck...
"...I'll chase him round Good Hope...
"...and round the Horn, and round the Norway Maelstrom...
"...and round perdition's flames before I give him up
"And this is what you have shipped for, men!
"to chase that white whale on both sides of land...
"...and over all sides of earth...
"...till he spouts black blood...
"...and rolls fin out"