Il sole anche di notte (The Sun Also Shines at Night) Page #4

---

We come from Calabria.|Most of us are merchants.

We haven't come empty-handed.|We've brought twelve wooden statues.

We've taken up a collection for the church.|There is an organ...

which will accompany|our three castrati's angelic voices.

Why am I still here waiting for you all?

You give me these crosses in order|to try to forget...

the suffering you have inflicted|on those you've lent money to...

at an exorbitant rate of interest.

You want me to tell you|how to obliterate the sin...

of the baby you gave birth to in secret...

or that you suffocated in its sleep.

How nice and polite you are!

And yet the only miracle|you want from me...

is a new pair of balls, and hell|for those who cut the old ones off.

You should see how beautiful|this place is today!

You can't help me anymore, Egidio.

They've turned you into a Christmas tree...

and I have become just a place.

Father Biagio.

Bring them here.

But you're too weak.

You've been fasting for two days.

Bring them here.

You've fainted twice already,|Father Sergio.

Isn't that how saints do it?

Come forward! Come forward!|He'll see you. He'll receive you now.

Today's the fifth anniversary|of the miracle...

you worked on the son|of our chief, Gesuino...

to commemorate which|he now sends you with his thanks...

pigs to feed your poor with and|prisoners whose lives he spared for you.

Out! Out!

Do you recognize me? Father!

It's Prince Santobuono!

It's Prince Santobuono!

Leave us! I'll take you inside.

No, I'm going straight back to Naples.

I suppose I must thank you.

- Thank the good heart of Gesuino.|- That man?

All my men wore these round their necks.

But that butcher slit their throats,|one by one, every Sunday...

to mark the holy day!

- He spared your life.|- And that was his big mistake.

I'll be back here with a thousand men.

I want to kill him and his son.

Revenge is no way to give thanks.

And it might harm|your reputation as a saint.

Who would ever have thought|we'd end up here...

me a hermit and you a hostage.

It's part of the profession|I chose and which I like.

Mine isn't a profession, it's a mission.

But recently it's been turning|into a profession.

I thought it'd be easier to seek God here.

I'm afraid that he who looks|for God doesn't find Him.

But he who looks for truth may meet God.

Excuse me.|I hear the confessions of so many people...

that today it's I who feel like confessing.

Anyway, even here you managed|to stand out.

You're known as far away as Madrid.

Once, in the Vatican,|I found myself boasting...

because I had been a friend of yours.

You're a famous man, Father Sergio.

You don't need to put pebbles|in your shoes anymore.

- You knew about that, too?|- The King told us.

- To laugh behind my back!|- No, to make us envious.

Before we go, we want Father Sergio...

who saved our lives by a miracle,|to bless us.

Yes, Sergio. They're singing for your glory.

- Father Sergio, are you all right?|- We'll take you inside.

Lean on me. Come, come.

It's just a moment of weakness.

- He's not feeling well.|- Easy.

Give him room to breathe. Easy.

Without you we are lost.

Stand back, or I'll hit you.

You have been told|that's enough for today.

Tomorrow we will await God's will.

Thank you.

Father, if you really want to thank me...

please bless my little daughter.

Her mother suddenly passed away...

and she's been in a sort of trance|ever since.

- Is she weak?|- Physically, no.

In body she's fit and healthy.

She rarely stirs by day.

She can go out only after sunset.

I'm too tired now.

Bring her to me tonight.

It's pork, I know.

But the pigs were a miracle,|and you must eat, Father.

Have the merchant's daughter come in.

They have been waiting outside|for an hour.

Come in. You sit here.|And you come with me.

I want my papa.

Why are you afraid?

Where does it hurt?

Everywhere.

Here.

Here.

Here.

You'll get better. Pray!

Yes, I pray, and none|of my prayers are answered.

It's you who should be praying.

And then you should lay your hand on me.

You know, I dreamt of you.

Yes.

You dreamt of me!

What was I doing?

Here.

I felt you place the palm of your hand...

here on my breast, as you are now.

What's your name?

Matilda, why?

Why must you always stand|next to the light?

This is the wise eye...

this is his brother.

This is the church.

If you weren't sick...

I'd say you were the Devil.

Supposing I was, what would it matter?

I'll cut some more.

There are a lot of leftovers tonight.

Ma, there's a stranger here asking|about the old couple.

Didn't you tell him they're no longer here?

No.

They're both dead.

Did you come here hoping|to get some pigeon dung?

There isn't any.

There are hardly any pigeons left.

We try to look after them,|but I must say it's hard work.

You see, we live down in the village.

Did you know them?

Yes.

It's lovely how they went, both together.

What do you mean, together?

Angela, come here!

At the same time,|as they were collecting the dung...

just over there behind you.

Not a minute between them.

Angela, do you remember?

Almost as if they'd planned it together.

They looked like two old sacks.

Off you go, quick!

If you'd like to see,|we buried them over there.

It was the year the river flooded,|and we thought they'd be better off there.

Come, I'll show you.

Follow me.

Come on.

Come on.

Angela!

You one of the family?

Come on, you two,|help me with the potatoes.

I just want to finish this pipe.

Hurry up, you lazy things!

It was only many years later...

that man was Father Sergio.

All the time he spent around here...

we thought he was just a beggar...

doing odd jobs...

and trying to make himself useful.

his path took him further afield...

and we never heard of him anymore.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes