Don Camillo Page #2

- What is it? Who's there? | - I don't know. I think...

- What do you think? | - I saw... - Who?

- Last night... - Who do you mean? | - I saw Peppone leaving the church.

The Mayor? That's how | he's improving public places, eh?

I asked him to fix the tower, | but he's destroying it.

- Why didn't you tell me? | - I thought he'd come for confession.

- Confession! - Yes. | - Confession! - Yes.

I'll give him | confession alright!

- Don Camillo, put that down. | - What?

- Put it down, it's an ugly thing. | - It's made of poplar. It's light.

Throw it away | and don't think about Peppone.

How can I forget him if you're | sending his wife to me now?

- What is it? | - A baptism, Father.

- Who's his mother? - I am! | - Your husband is the father?

Who should it be, you?

- Why so angry? Doesn't your party | practice free love? - Oh!

- What will his name be? | - Libero Antonio Lenin.

Let the Russians baptize him.

Let's go!

I really gave it | to those godless people.

That was stupid. Call them back | and baptize the baby.

Jesus, you must keep in mind | that baptism is no joke.

Don't explain baptism to me, | I invented it!

The baby won't go to heaven | if he dies.

Why should he die? | He's pink and healthy.

I get it, I'm always wrong. | I'll try to call them back.

I'll leave when my son is baptized | with the name I want.

Town Hall is outside. | This is a church.

Careful, | I have a delicate stomach.

Do you remember that bullet | I took in the war? No low blows.

Don't worry, | I'll get you only on the top floor.

- What time is it? | - Who knows?

Alright, you win.

That's for the baptism, | that's for the grenades.

- What grenades? | - Don't play innocent.

That's what you do. | Destroy and burn.

And you want to build | a Citizen's Center!

Be quiet, | you little Bolshevik.

Coochy-coochy-coo! | He's smarter than his father.

- Where are you getting the money | for that building? - I'll find it.

If we have a drought...

...you won't be able | to buy the first brick.

I know, I've been fighting | for a city park for ten years.

But you don't want it | to cost anything.

Well, | shall we baptize this treasure?

What are we going to call him?

Libero Antonio Camillo.

- Camillo as well? | - Yes.

If that's the case, | you can add Lenin too.

Camillo cancels out | those other types.

Show me the baby.

[Ciro dell'Abbruciata, Mariolino's | grandfather, is the godfather.]

[The Abbruciata farm | is as hard and bald as a squash.]

[Lf he planted dynamite, | maybe it would grow.]

[But Ciro and his son | insist on planting grain.]

Mariolino!

[On the farm on the side | belonging to Gina's family...]

[... the earth is beautiful and only | a caress is needed for grain to grow.]

[Poverty and wealth, | the sun and politics added...]

[... makes them | detest each other.]

[And so a wall was built | to avoid trouble.]

Are you crazy? My father | will kill me if he sees us.

Why didn't you come the other day? | I waited until night.

- You told me to go away. | - It was nothing, I was angry.

You're so handsome!

You're getting a beard.

- You were running, your skin | is boiling. - No, I didn't run.

It prickles. | [There they are, Romeo and Juliet.]

[When they were babies | their families became enemies.]

[At that time | the wall hadn't yet been built.]

[The slightest incident | always complicated matters.]

[The battle extended | to the mothers and fathers...]

[... then to the rest | of the family...]

[... and finally | to the grandparents.]

Your Peppone is a brigand!

That priest of yours | makes you want to turn Muslim.

- You are a Muslim! Hypocrite! | - Gina!

My grandfather! He'll pull | my hair out! See you tonight.

- Gina! - See you this evening. | - Here I am!

Gina!

- Where were you? - I went to see | if the apples are ripe.

Apples won't help with your exams. | Go study!

That old pig | let his pigeons out again.

Killer! Assassin!

Do my pigeons bother you | passing over your land?

They block the sun!

The sun wasn't made | for old fools like you!

If you shoot again, | I'll set your hut on fire!

I shoot at whatever | passes over what's mine.

Here's your pigeon, | it's tough as iron. Take it!

- Eat it! | - You rotten old buzzard.

- Eat it so it'll strangle you! | - So you could cry over me!

Rotten buzzard!

[The pigeon | didn't go to waste.]

[Gina brought it to Miss Cristina | who had a feast.]

[Cristina had taught | at the town school for 50 years.]

[When she retired, | the people...]

[... had given her an alarm clock. | So the old teacher sets the alarm...]

[... and continues hoping | for a pension from the government.]

- Who is it? | - Scartassini.

Who are the others?

Friends of mine. | We have something important to say.

Come in.

- Well, what is it? | - Something important happened.

There were elections | and the Reds won.

The Reds are rotten people.

- But, we're the Reds! | - They're still rotten.

We know | what we want politically...

...and we really | don't need anything...

...but when it comes to administration | you need to write, answer reports...

...and you're the only one | we can turn to, paid of course.

You'll pay me?

We can come from the fields | every night and you can drill us.

Look at the reports, | correct our mistakes...

It's too late for you. | You should have studied long ago.

We were sent to the fields | instead of school.

- The fault wasn't all ours. | - Who are you?

- Ah, Brusco dell'Abbruciata. | - Yes. - The same brat as always.

You're right, | it wasn't your fault.

Be seated!

Has Giuseppino gotten | all his teeth yet?

He's about to be married!

Is your sister-in-law | still nasty, Luigi?

She gets worse | as she gets older.

Get out!

Me?

You did me too many wrongs!

But, you can't...

This rascal came to school | with pockets full of frogs.

One day he came to school | riding a cow!

But he's the Mayor!

Mayor or not, | if you don't leave...

...Ill cane you so hard, | you'll go bald! Go away!

I told you so, | I played a few too many on her.

You're never to step foot | here again.

Even if you become | Minister of Education!

Peppone is an ass.

Peppone brought this to me to type. | He wants 15 copies.

Listen to this mess. | First and last warning.

Last night too a vicious anonymous | hand wrote an offensive insult...

...on our daily message board.

The hand of this slob | has to calm down.

He's exploiting our work | to provoke us.

If he don't stop, | he'll be sorry when it's too late.

Every patience has a limit.

Section Secretary, | Giuseppe Bottazzi, aka Peppone.

What provocation? | Do you know anything, Barchini?

Don't you know anything?

Every time they put up | a poster it's full of blunders...

...someone always writes | "Peppone is an ass" above it.

Peppone is an ass, and when one | is an ass and writes proclamations...

...we all see | that he's an ass, true?

It's natural. | The people see and comment.

I have to make the copies now. | He wants them in the morning.

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