Aferim! Page #3

What's your business here?

- We're looking for a runaway Gypsy.

- What Gypsy?

Carfin, a slave who stole from the boyar.

Where's your mandate?

No good, it's not from our ruler.

I didn't find the Gypsy

in my county...

This is Dumbrava county.

I give the orders here.

You get me a mandate,

and I'll seek him for you.

- What if I get one from your ruler?

- We'll see then.

Come on, we're two good lawmen...

Go back!

- Come over here.

- What for?

Let's have a word.

- What would it take for us to agree?

- You say.

I give you two thalers

and you let me look for him.

These are hard times, bey-mu...

The Russians struck at us, too...

How much, then?

Four thalers, and I'll even tell you

where the crow's hiding.

- Where is he, then?

- Money first, bey-mu.

Four.

He's in the house of an ugly man,

Stan sin Paraschiv by name.

- He's a basket weaver.

- How do I find him?

Go back, past some hovels,

then you'll see a house by the pond.

Thanks a-plenty.

We're sick of chasing this crow,

I'm also sick and coughing...

- No scandal, bey-mu.

- 'Pon my honour! I'm a constable too!

You haven't heard it from me.

If we don't know

the miserable life we lead, who does?

- I'm in your debt.

- If you need anything else, ask for me.

Many thanks.

Go see why that hag ran off.

...I'll crack your head open

with my yatagan.

There's nothing here.

Get the hell away!

A constable is here!

Bright lords, what is your need?

Good day, aunt,

we're looking for Stan sin Paraschiv.

- What for?

- We have a word with him.

- What word?

- A joke.

It's jokes that get you fornicating.

Oi, you're crushing me!

What are you looking for?

You're ruining our reed!

Good man Stan

Burned down the barn...

What do you want with me, constable?

I am lawkeeper Costandin sin Gheorghe.

We're here to seize Carfin,

the Gypsy slave in your house.

Here's our mandate.

He's my son.

I can't afford Gypsies.

What am I, a boyar?

We break our backs

working for nothing.

- How could we own Gypsies?

- We know he's here.

- Who?

- The crow.

- What crow?

- Boyar Candescu's Gypsy.

We have no such boyar around here.

He's playing the idiot,

isn't he, Ionita?

He is.

- Me, playing the idiot?

- Yes.

- Me, having a Gypsy here?

- Yes.

I tell him I'm a nun

and he takes off my habit...

- I don't have any!

- Yes, you do.

Good Lord, where is he, then?

Wherever you hid him.

Should I put

the Lord's whip on your back?!

Do you see any Gypsy?

A pig it's all we have.

No Gypsy!

This is a poor household.

It doesn't look that poor.

We're dirt poor,

we only have the skin on our backs.

You still have the fortune between your legs!

Bless you!

Diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle!

Let's play piggy in the middle!

Just a little neighbourhood crow.

Let's search some more.

See? No one here.

My daughter-in-law,

old Grandpa on his deathbed.

Woman, bring a candle!

- What's here?

- Never seen an attic before?

Where we keep our baskets, beans, onion...

Where do you think you're climbing?

Are you hitting a lawkeeper?

He's killed me!

Father!

He's killin' me!

Let him go!

I'll buy him from you!

Help, they's killin' me!

Stay away or I shoot!

It ain't me. Let me go!

Let him go, he's Stan's slave!

- Where are you from, blackie?

- Master Iancu the merchant.

- Ran away from there?

- Yes, master, 'cause he beat me bad.

And he stabbed my brother to death

when he was drunk.

I got scared and I ran.

- What's your name?

- Tintiric, master.

- How old are you?

- How should I know?

- Hasn't anyone told you?

- No, master.

Stop shaking like a hag's teeth,

are you scared?

Yes, master.

Shut up!

What's the matter?

- This shitskin wanted to flee.

- I didn't.

- You wanted to jump off.

- I didn't.

We're taking him back.

The merchant might thank us with a dime or two.

Don't take me back!

Upon my life, master.

He'll beat me!

Shut up, little prince,

or I'll smack you.

Father, he's just a poor soul!

A devil's soul...

But the devil can bring in money, too.

Right.

- We know your kind.

- You all say you didn't steal.

I didn't, kind lord...

Why did you flee, then?

Is it better now?

Don't turn me over to the boyar, master.

He'll kill me.

Take me as your slave.

I'll do all you say,

just don't take me back.

- He won't kill you...

- Yes he will.

Fish brains in a rabbit's head...

He'll give you a beating

and send you back to work.

Where a boyar strikes, new skin grows.

- Ain't that right, Tintiric?

- Right.

On our street,

a trader buried a man alive

and the man died.

- What trader?

- Kir Costea.

He buried a man alive,

many people saw.

What had he done?

No one told me.

At least if I were guilty.

But I ain't.

Who else could be guilty?

Me?

His wife pushed me to f*** her.

Hear that, Ionita, the crow claims he f***ed

the boyar's woman.

Swear upon the devil's cod,

upon Aaron's rod,

so help you God!

I swear.

So how'd she push you, crow?

She had her eyes set on me

since they had bought me.

But I couldn't believe...

One day, I was watering the horses...

She came quietly into the stables,

hop! she climbed on top of me

and rubbed her c*nt against my nape.

The old hen

ain't scared of a thick cock!

- So you didn't like it?!

- I did, aren't I a man?

The things I did to her...

And if I hadn't liked it?

She's my mistress.

Then why'd you run

from such grief, crow?

The stable boy found out

and told the boyar,

who said he'd kill me...

I ran for my life.

- He's making it up!

- I'm not, good master...

I've heard about

the lady's fornication,

even with her cousin.

They even say she bore his child.

I knew from the start

this wasn't a clear business.

What did I say?

Two turtledoves

in sweet love's fires, eh?

Who had time for that...

Curse them Turks.

How to get to Licheresti? I know.

Mind your words!

He's my boy, he helps me.

He wants to give you a gift.

Say tesekkur.

I want some.

- What'd he want?

- To get to Licheresti.

- I sent the fool the other way.

- Aferim, father!

I hate the Ottomans.

The filthiest nation on Earth.

And he talked to me like I was sh*t.

Said he was afraid of the haidouks...

I hope our Romanian boys

catch him and tan his skin.

They should.

You can tell from their talk

that they's nothin' but beasts.

- Give me some.

- Fine, have some.

We work like morons

for them and the boyars...

It's closer...

We can do some good business,

without wasting time.

Look what I found for you, cricket.

You can find ripe fruit

under the driest leaf.

Master, don't take me back!

Bey-mu, what can I do?

Clap my hands and make you a divan-effendi?!

Take me to your home!

I can work the fields, cook...

I don't need that.

I have a wife.

- Have pity, bright lord.

- Be thankful I don't beat you.

I give you a finger,

don't ask for the whole hand.

You struck bad luck.

- But I had my good days too.

- When?

When I was a slave for

his highness Bibescu.

Then, when he died,

for his highness Manu

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