Don Giovanni

"The old dies and the new

cannot manage to see day.

"In the interim,

"a large diversity

of morbid symptoms surges forth. "

Antonio Gramsci.

Night and day I slave away

for a man that can't be pleased.

Rain and wind I must endure,

eating badly, sleeping badly.

I want to be a gentleman.

I no longer want to serve.

Oh, what a true gentleman!

While you're inside with your beauty,

I am out here playing the sentinel...

Someone's coming!

I don't want to be found.

Unless you kill me, there is no hope

that I'll ever let you go!

Foolish woman! Vain cries!

Who I am, you'll never know.

- Servants, everyone! A traitor!

- Be silent, fear my wrath!

- Scoundrel!

- Foolish woman!

This libertine will be the ruin of me.

What tumult!

What shouting!

This desperate fury

will be the ruin of me.

Let her go, wretch!

Defend yourself.

I do not deign to fight with you.

You think you can escape me so easily?

Fight!

Miserable wretch.

So be it...

if you want to die.

Help!

I am betrayed!

The assassin...

has wounded me.

And from his throbbing breast,

I see his soul depart.

I feel my soul...

departing.

Leporello, where are you?

- Here, unfortunately. And you?

- Here.

Who's dead, you or the old man?

What a stupid question!

The old man.

Two charming exploits!

Seducing the daughter, killing the father.

He asked for it.

Like Donna Anna?

Silence! Are you asking for it too?

I ask for nothing and I say no more.

My father is in danger!

Let us rush to help him.

I will shed all my blood, if need be.

Where is the scoundrel?

In the vicinity.

What is this dreadful sight

before my eyes?

My father!

My dear father!

Sir!

The assassin has murdered him.

That blood,

that wound,

that face...

Stained and covered

with the colours of death.

He breathes no more.

His limbs are cold.

Father...

Beloved father!

I'm fainting.

I'm dying.

Help, friends!

Go fetch me some smelling salts,

some liqueur... Don't delay!

Donna Anna...

My love...

My friend.

Her intense grief is killing her.

She is coming round.

Come to her aid.

Father...

Remove from her sight

that object of horror.

My love,

be consoled.

Take heart.

Go, cruel one! Let me die too,

now that he is dead... oh God...

he who gave me life.

Listen to me, beloved, please listen.

Look at me for just an instant.

I am your beloved. I live only for you.

It is you. Forgive me...

My grief, my distress...

Where is my father?

Your father?

Banish, my dear, this bitter memory.

You have husband and father in me.

My father...

Swear, if you can,

swear to avenge his blood.

I swear!

I swear on your eyes.

I swear

on our love.

What an oath, oh gods!

What a cruel moment!

Countless emotions

are stirring in my heart.

Swear to avenge his blood!

Swear!

I swear!

On your eyes.

On our love.

Come on, hurry up.

What do you want?

What I have to tell you is important.

I believe it.

Very important.

Fine. Get on with it.

Swear not to get angry.

I swear on my honor.

As long as you don't mention

the Commander.

- Are we alone?

- Just look.

- No one can hear us?

- Go on.

- May I speak freely?

- Yes.

In that case, my dear master,

the life you lead...

is thoroughly rotten.

- How dare you!

- You swore.

I don't remember swearing!

Keep quiet or...

I'll say no more, not even a whisper.

Then we can stay friends.

Listen, do you know why I'm here?

I have no idea.

Might it be for a new conquest?

You must tell me

so I can add her to my list.

You're a good man.

I'm in love with a beautiful woman.

I'm sure she loves me.

I've seen her, spoken to her,

she is coming to the villa tonight.

Hush!

I smell the scent...

of a woman.

What a great nose!

She must be beautiful!

And what an eye!

Let's go see what this is all about.

He's already on fire.

Who will tell me

where the barbarian is,

whom to my shame I loved,

and who betrayed me?

If I find the villain,

if he doesn't come back to me,

I will wreak havoc.

I will tear out his heart.

Listen! There is a beauty

wandering, forsaken by her lover.

I'll wreak havoc with him,

I'll tear out his heart!

Poor girl!

Let's try to console her torment.

As you have consoled 1800 others.

Let's try to console her torments.

As you have consoled 1800 others.

Dear young lady!

Who is there?

What do I see?

Donna Elvira!

Don Giovanni!

Monster! Criminal! Pack of lies!

What a perfect description!

She knows him well.

Donna Elvira, calm down.

Listen, let me speak.

What can you say after such behavior?

You entered my house furtively,

cunningly. With promises and flattery,

you won my heart. I fell in love.

You declared me your bride.

Then, disregarding the holy law

of earth and Heaven,

you left Burgos three days later.

You abandoned me and fled,

leaving me prey to my remorse

and to my weeping,

as a punishment perhaps

for loving you so much!

She sounds like a book.

As for that, I had my reasons, didn't I?

Yes, and what good reasons!

What? Other than your perfidy,

your frivolity?

But the just Heaven

decreed that I should find you

for its own revenge and for mine.

Be reasonable.

She's such a nuisance.

If you don't believe me,

believe this good man.

Except for the truth.

Tell her.

Tell her what?

Tell her everything.

Quickly...

Madam,

to tell the truth,

the world being what it is,

the square being not round...

You louse!

How do you dare mock my grief!

The villain has fled! Poor me!

Where did he go?

Let him go.

He is not worth worrying over.

The scoundrel deceived me,

betrayed me!

Be consoled.

You are, or you were, or you will be,

neither the first nor the last.

Look at this.

This book, which is all but slim,

is full of the name of his conquests.

Every villa, every village,

every country bears witness

to his exploits with women.

Little lady,

this is the list of the beauties

my master has loved,

a list I have made myself.

Observe. Read it with me.

In Italy, six hundred and forty.

In Germany, two hundred and thirty-one.

One hundred in France,

in Turkey, ninety-one.

But in Spain...

But in Spain,

already one thousand and three.

Peasant girls,

servant girls and town girls,

countesses, baronesses,

marchionesses, princesses,

women of every rank, shape or age.

With the fairhaired,

it's the custom

to praise

their kindness.

With the darkhaired,

their constancy.

With the white-haired,

their sweetness.

In winter, he wants plump ones.

In summer, he wants thin ones.

The tall ones,

he calls them "majestic".

The little ones

are always "charming".

As for the old ones,

he conquers them

for the pleasure

of adding them to the list.

His greatest passion

is the young beginner.

He doesn't mind if she's rich

or ugly or beautiful.

As long as they wear

petticoats,

you know

what he does.

You girls who treat love lightly,

don't let your youth go by.

If your hearts are all aflutter,

here is the remedy, as you can see!

What pleasure in store!

Young men, light of head,

don't keep wandering aimlessly.

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