Don Camillo Page #4

[And in his turn, Don Camillo | placed the first stone...]

[... in his famous city park.]

[But the two building sites in town | couldn't give work to everyone.]

[Poverty was great.]

[The workers expected Peppone | to relieve their problem.]

[He called together the richest | landowners in Town Hall...]

[... but they hid behind the law.]

[They said it wasn't their fault | things were going badly.]

And the bridge we're building | over the ditch?

And the 5 kilometer | irrigation canal?

There's work for everyone | but the town has no money.

This is what I've decided to do: | A land tax of 1,000 lire...

...to finance the work. | If you agree, it's OK.

If you don't agree, you'll have | to deal with the hungry people.

[1,000 lire was a hefty sum.]

[Lt was the same as a million | for old Filotti.]

[His refusal to pay...]

[... provoked | the others into agreement.]

Then I'll have to order | a farm worker's strike.

We'll see who'll work your land.

[Work stopped | on all the land in town.]

[One day, | the bellowing of Filotti's cows...]

[... could be heard for a kilometer. | The strike picketers...]

[... stopped everyone from feeding | and milking the livestock.]

Hey!

Where are you going?

To milk my cows and feed them. | I have that right, no?

It's not worth it. | The picket guard won't let you.

You're proud of what you do, | pleased with yourself.

It's cruel to those animals.

Their udders are hard as rocks | with days milk. Shame on you!

Castaldi's wife | has no milk either.

She can't nurse since | her husband lost his job.

They had to put the baby | in a charity home.

And she's not | the only hungry one.

There's no other way. | If the cows have to die, they will!

Do you think there is any place on | earth where people can be peaceful?

There must be, I'm sure of it.

Or life wouldn't be worth living.

Hey, you! Stop!

- Where are you going? | - Be careful with that thing.

It's forbidden to go further.

I have to. Listen to my cow, | she's calving.

She'll die without my help. I have | to go, that calf is being born today.

Gisella's son says | Gigiotti's grapes are rotting.

I know, Brusco told my husband.

Peppone's doubling | the picketers with city people.

- They're bringing machine guns! | - This is bad!

- They wouldn't let him in. | Mariolino wanted to shoot him. - Oh!

- Shoot whom? | - Giacomo, Filotti's old cowman.

The red cow who's calving | is going to die!

And so are the others with udders like | that and nothing in their bellies!

- Jesus, there has to be a limit! | - What scoundrels!

- May God punish them! | - Send them all to hell!

Quiet, you old madwomen! The selfish, | stubborn owners are responsible too.

May God send Filotti | and his peers to hell with no pity!

Pardon me, Jesus, | I believe I'm angry.

You won't send anyone to hell.

But letting them die like this | is stupid!

- Ah! | - Jesus!

- Let's go! | - Let's go away!

Lord, don't let anyone | jump on me on the other side.

Who's there?

Answer or I'll shoot.

Careful, or I'll shoot back.

You're involved in this too, | it seemed strange.

Hear that music?

If those cows die, | you'll have more jobless.

That's the curse of farm towns. | In the city...

...they only have to close the shops. | Machines don't need milking.

- And you can't put a dead cow | back on its legs. - Stay here.

Stop | or I'll turn you into a sieve.

Peppone's stubborn as a mule, | but he won't shoot...

...a priest obeying God's word | in his back.

Who's there?

Stop that, it's me, Peppone. | Go take a walk, it'll wake you up.

You want to turn this beautiful | stall into a cemetery?

Hurry up, | go in there!

I'll take care of the red cow. | You get the hay to them.

- We'll milk them later... | - Shut up! - I won't shut up!

[They worked like mules. | And when it was done...]

[... it was necessary | to wait for night.]

Jack, cavalier and king!

- I'm so hungry I could eat | a bishop! - They're hard to digest.

To your health!

- They're not bellowing. | - They must be dying.

They'll all die.

- Hey! Go to town and buy | 50 liters of disinfectant. - OK.

Others will die before I do.

[When God willed, | the strike ended...]

[... and life returned to the fields.]

[The city strikers arrived | when it was all over.]

What about the strike?

- It's over. - Over? | What did we come here for?

#... march ahead, folks, to revolt. | Red flag, red flag... #

[It was hot, so there was only | one thing for them to do:]

[... have a good drink.]

Look, there's a priest racing!

Hey, Bartali!

Hey, you speed merchant!

Careful of your skirt!

We agree that the city boys | didn't behave well...

...but he pulverized 15 of them. | - 15!

Excellency, you must admit | the town cannot have this.

- A priest shouldn't behave | like a steamroller. - I understand.

I see he is a danger | to the town.

A change of parish priests | is inevitable. Excuse me.

- We'll send you Don Pietro. | - Don Pietro?

That young man you saw. | He won't bother you.

- That half pint? | - Mr. Mayor!

Pardon, but if I punch that little | priest, I'll send him flying meters.

If I punch Don Camillo, | he doesn't move a centimeter.

Why do you have to punch him?

That little priest | is church material.

Once you get him robed, he must | look like a coat rack wearing a cape.

Do you measure a priest's worth | in size and weight?

No, we're not savages...

...but the eye | needs its share too.

- What we mean is... | - Shut up. What we mean is...

...we don't want Don Camillo taken away, | but to make him stay in his place...

...make him stop doing politics | and to mind his own business.

A brain washing, so to speak.

- Alright, I think you deserve that. | - Thank you, Excellency.

Church pews weren't enough? | Now you throw tables too.

- In a moment of weakness, I... | - I know...

...but a man of God | preaches love and kindness...

...and does not throw tables | on his neighbor's heads. For shame!

Don't try to tell me you were alone! | You prepared an ambush, right?

One man can't beat | fifteen others.

Excellency, I was alone, I swear it. | The table dropped on them and...

- It was like that one. | - Like that one?

- Go on, lift it! | - What? - Lift it!

It's time to show what you can do. | If you're telling the truth, prove it!

Come on!

Throw it!

- What do you mean? | - Throw it!

My poor Don Camillo, | you will never be a bishop.

Excellency, are you hurt?

No, nothing happened. | It was me.

Don Camillo made me angry | and I lost my temper.

[Don Camillo got a pardon | and a promise...]

[... that the Bishop would come | and inaugurate his park.]

[The Citizen's Center | slowly rose.]

- Is the arch-priest looking | for something? - I was passing by...

This Center isn't going up | so fast, Mr. Mayor!

It's a Center, not a dirigible!

- I'll inaugurate it in three weeks. | - Inaugurate what? - The city park.

You haven't even started...

...work on that swamp.

- You're spying on me! | - No, I'm just observing.

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