N (Io e Napoleone) Page #2

I'll do it myself.

Farewell!

Ferrante...

Martino...

What a mess!

Don't go.

- Stop crying.

- I'm not crying!

Don't make things worse.

- I'm not crying!

- That's the way.

Let's go!

Farewell, brother.

Goodbye! I'll miss you.

Forgive me.

Hurry up!

Prepare yourselves!

Arms to the right.

Arms to the left.

- Good morning, master teacher.

- Alas, I'm no longer a teacher.

Good morning anyway.

Emilia?

Emilia?

- Mr. Martino.

- Is Madam in her room?

In an impossible mood!

Notary Baccelli

and Councilor Mainardi are here.

- She used unkind words with us.

- Bad words!

- You might want to return later.

- Excuse me.

Not again? Please!

That sea voyage was a nightmare,

I was sick to my stomach.

My grandmother used to say...

"For us residents of Citta di Castello,

the sea gives us rotgut."

I don't want to see anyone,

you handle evetything.

I'll leave the tray and be off.

Oh my!

Oh my!

I can't believe it's you!

Welcome back.

- Are you angry with me?

- Why?

I didn't inform you I had arrived.

But I'm glad you're here,

I have something to tell you.

Me too.

- I came to say I accept.

- What?

Your proposal

that I move in with you.

- What?

- Remember? Emilia?

You said I could tend the garden

and library...

even in your absence.

Emilia?

- I accept.

- Right, I did propose that.

- Will you help me?

- You don't seem happy.

The only thing I like

about this empire is the style...

Iofty petticoat

that hides the hips and rear...

while the cupolas are on display

for admirers.

What did you want to tell me?

You're so precious

with that prickly beard.

What did you have to tell me?

My dear Martino,

we can no longer see each other...

we simply can't.

Why?

When a relationship is over,

it's over.

Over?

I'm sorry for throwing cold water

on your flames.

She's arrived,

I'll go there and say I love her...

we'll roll around on the bed

and meet again in 15 days.

Emilia!

I liked it as much as you did.

"He arrives, reads me his poetry

of rhymed couplets...

we'll kiss each other all over...

then I'll return

to my 80-year-old...

asinine Bourbon husband in Naples".

- Martino?

- Yes.

Come here.

Here I am.

We're selling it all:

Villa, farm, and mines.

- Selling, when?

- Now, right now.

The Mayor of Porto Longone,

who now goes by Maire...

is buying on behalf of His Majesty.

For him,

small Napoleon is a big deal.

- Another sign?

- Sign of what?

- Nothing.

- Come on, smile!

Don't make that gloomy face

or I'll become sad.

- Shall we toast with champagne?

- At this hour?

- I never expected this.

- I'm sorry.

I'll call for some champagne.

Pascalina?

So for you, I'm just...

A fortnightly whim?

A fortnightly whim... that's right.

Since you're kind and good,

you'd suffer if I suffered?

- Of course.

- Sure.

Don't bother suffering,

I think the same thing you do.

Goodness, what do I think?

For serious reasons,

I too must say farewell forever.

Goodbye!

- You called?

- Get out! Now!

- Sincerity is wonderfulo Martino!

- My goodness.

I agree.?

- Pig!

- Are you mad?

You sure seized the opportunity!

Your false,

cowardly, petty sincerity!

- And yours?

- A pitiful lie.

Actually, a pathetic lie, for me!

How humiliating!

Emilia?

- Leave!

- Let's be clear.

What's there to clarify, Casinoski?

I had a Russian servant whom I called

Cretinoski, he liked it.

I know.

What's there to clarify,

you're 19 and I'm 40!

I'm 21!

I thought:
"Next year my breasts

will droop and he'll leave me...

then what'll I do, kill myself?

I'll leave him so I won't suffer."

Next year my foot,

you were already planning it!

There are people waiting for me.

"O goddess,

with time thou hast fled away...

to grievous memories

abandoning me...

and to a future

faced with blinding fear."

I'll sleep here.

Does anyone mind if I sleep here?

I'll sleep here.

It's nice.

"Hear ye, hear ye, on this day...

the Great Knight

Maire Egisto Lonzi Tognarini...

summons Master Martino Papucci...

to present himself expeditiously

to confer with the aforementioned...

at the Town Hall of Portoferraio."

Are you Master Papucci?

Cosimo Bartolini, are you deranged?

Who do you think I am?

I was appointed herald,

I'm just following the rules.

- The Mayor awaits you.

- The Mayor?

Is it true your brother set sail

because you wouldn't go?

- Mind your own business.

- I asked your sister.

Now that Ferrante's at sea

and you've been kicked out...

Diamantina is alone,

so can I court her?

I've always been fond of her.

Be the personal librarian

and secretary of Napoleon?

His Majesty seeks

a man of letters...

he can dictate his reflections to.

The Mayor suggested my brother?

The pay is rather lavish...

there's also the privilege of being

in His Majesty's presence daily.

You don't know Martino,

he'd rather...

- Found him, may we see the Mayor?

- Martino?

- Here he is.

- Come along.

- Please.

- Monsieur le Maire, Master Papucci.

Come on in, please.

Sir Mayor, I'll wait right here.

Dearest Diamantina, see?

- My goodness.

- The Mayor and I are friends.

Who would've guessed?

It's the right moment...

we're a state with an Emperor

as king, we're set.

Hence, time to start a family...

What are you saying?

If I weren't me and they asked me...

"What do you think of Diamantina

and Cosimo together?"

I'd say:
"Great match!

Great match!"

For what?

At the St. Anna feast, we danced...

and I stepped on your gown,

you said, I remember it well...

"Damn you, may you die!"

- So?

- You weren't indifferent toward me.

Very, very...

yes, very good.

Let's go give the good news

to Monsieur Drouot.

- General?

- Yes.

Master Papucci accepts

with great honor.

Really? Well, welcome on board.

I thank you,

for this fortuitous occasion.

As you see,

Elba has more than miners...

fishermen and farmers.

You'll begin tomorrow, you may go.

- General?

- Goodbye.

- Martino, wait.

- Excuse me.

Now, let's take care of...

Wait!

- You said yes?

- So what?

- Aren't you coming home?

- I was thrown out.

Martino...

Woe is me...

I remember when we were tots...

you threw a rock at my nose,

I still have the bump.

It was then I realized

we were made for each other.

Good, don't respond hastily...

important decisions

must be pondered long and hard.

What a woman!

Maestro Fontanelli?

Argus, where is your master?

He translates Shakespeare!

Well...

Maestro?

- Maestro, how are you?

- It's been so long!

- I must speak to you.

- We'll have crudites with oil.

Jacopo kills himself...

for believing

Napoleon would free Italy.

I think Jacopo

should've killed him...

the paladin of liberty

turned despot and assassin.

Are we correcting books?

Changing endings?

Change the title too: "The Second

to Last Letters of Jacopo Ortis".

Martino!

You seem troubled, what happened?

You were thrown out of your home,

fired from work...

you dream of killing Napoleon.

What did you come to tell me?

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