The Bride Wore Red

1

'Make your bets.'

'That's all, no more bets.'

Number 30.

Number three repeats.

Armalia, your luck improves

with every glass of champagne.

And, Rudi the champagne improves

with every roll of the wheel.

Cash those for me.

Place your bets.

- Very superior, waiter.

- Thank you, sir.

Probably, very superior man.

Pity, no one let them know.

Please don't stop

playing for my sake.

As a matter of fact

I happen to be up and gone.

I do nothing for

anyone else's sake.

The last time I did,

I got married.

I mean I could take a taxi home.

No, Rudi, these are not hours

to be wasted in playing.

Into each life, there come

a few nights, such as this night

in which everything

you touch is gold.

Everything you do is right.

Invariably followed the next

morning by a severe headache.

What do I do with my power?

What do I do

with my omnipotence?

Dine anddebate with a

love-sick young aristocrat

whose only thought is

of the model and the Tyrol

and his lovely Maddalena.

You'll admit,

with all that to think of

I've listened very attentively

to your naive

champagne philosophy.

Naive? What's so

naive about it?

You promised we wouldn't

go into it again.

I insist on knowing.

- Sir?

- Well, oh!

- You save money, young man?

- No, sir.

- Support a sick mother?

- No, sir, no one.

Perhaps you're working

your way through school?

- No, sir.

- No ambition of any kind?

- No, sir.

- Good.

Here's a enormous tip

for you, squander it.

- Yes, sir.

- What do you mean, naive?

Well, after all, all that about

life, the great roulette wheel.

Life is a great roulette wheel.

And the human is a little ball,

worthless in himself

bouncing helplessly

from slot to slot.

Where will he aim?

In wealth or poverty.

Is Rudi Pal

the desirable young aristocrat

or...is our friend the waiter?

Your number, my friend

didn't turn up, more champagne.

- And the check.

- Yes, sir.

Now, Rudi Pal and the waiter.

Alike at the start

and now so different.

You'll go on from there

about the one

where all men are created equal.

- Which they are.

- Which they are not.

Do you suppose there's

anything to distinguish you

from that waiter?

Except your clothes and the fact

that you sit while he stands?

There's everything,

the breeding.

Waiters are notoriously better

mannered than those they serve.

Breeding means

more than manners.

Nonsense. Rudi, as a favor

to me, stand up.

Sit down, my friend, sit down.

You're a gentleman

for the time being.

Waiter, pour the

gentleman a drink.

This is not particularly

embarrassing to me.

Think you're being deliberately

cruel to the waiter.

'For the moment he is no waiter,

he's much at home as you or I.'

Oh, no, my friend, you can do

everything but drink.

That would be cruel.

Let's get out of here.

- Rudi, I have an idea.

- No more please.

I'm going home like a good

little roulette ball.

The train for Turin

leaves so early in the morning.

By that time I shall

change a dozen lives.

Lead me till the destitute.

The destitute

sleep after midnight.

Some other time, old man.

Now this very instant take me to

the lowest dive in all Trieste.

The very lowest,

the lowest of the low.

This is a great honor,

Your Excellency.

I hope you will like

my little place.

Everything refined and tasteful.

Is this the lowest, the

most decrepit dump in Trieste?

This is, Your Excellency.

You won't find a more

decrepit bar in the..

- Nothing is decent here.

- Including the champagne.

It's all the matter of luck,

Armalia.

If that champagne had only

bounced into the lucky slot.

Oh, we have

the most beautiful girls.

That is the lowest, most

decrepit creatures in Trieste.

- Perhaps you would enjoy.

- No, thank you.

Why not?

Not a ladylike enough, perhaps.

If I were to take

one of those poor things

have her properly washed,

dressed and coiffured

you couldn't tell her

from your own fiancee.

Fiancee reminds me,

I've really got to go.

Goodbye, Armalia.

Come up to Turin

if you don't think

Maddelena and I are too smug.

And don't get too dizzy on that

great big wheel of life.

Get out of here.

Let's always sing the praise

Waiter.

Yes, Your Excellency.

Bring a girl to my table.

Washed if possible.

- Perhaps, you would--

- Surprise me.

Anyone will do,

anyone, the one that's singing.

The one that's singing?

Who wants love

Love is a joy we borrow

Pay back in tears tomorrow

So who wants love

Who wants love

Something to fill

your heat with

So very soon to part with

So who wants love

Love is a dream I'm weaving

Moonbeams and patterns rare

Love is a child believing

Stories of castle in the air

So who wants love

I'll go my way without it

I know too much about it

Who wants love

Still good for me,

ain't, duchess?

Much too good.

Well, count is he?

Come to stare at

the animals in the zoo?

Good evening, sir,

would you care to dance

or shall I sing another song,

perhaps an old--

No thank you, let us just be

two human souls in commune.

- Now let's just talk.

- Talk?

Yes. Will you tell me

all about yourself?

Where you were born,

all that sort.

Thank you, I will sit down

since you insist.

My name is Anni Pavlovitch.

Born in Poland, age 25,

mother, Austrian.

And I'm not going to tell you

my father was an aristocrat.

- Didn't surprised me.

- Didn't surprised me either.

- You talk well.

- Oh, yes.

Guess, we breathe and sleep

and are hungry too.

- Very much like human beings.

- Naturally, senora.

Who was you mother,

who was your father?

How did you happen

to become a count?

Proud of you to come here, and

stay and ask me questions.

I know, I'd been told

it's all the matter of luck.

I had the good luck

to be born rich, while you--

I had the bad luck to be born.

You're absolutely right,

it's most unjust.

One is powerless

to protest one's fate.

- Powerless to stop--

- I'm hungry.

I'm sorry. Waiter!

Waiter, bring some hors d'oeuvre

for the lady

best you've got, caviar.

Caviar for the count.

Bring me a dish of stew,

with meat in it.

And remember

put plenty of meat in it.

Are you gonna drink some beer?

Champagne's good enough for me.

Ah, you didn't crook your little

finger, thank you for that.

Where did you learn

such charming manners?

I go to the movies, I watch

the ladies of your world.

Lots of simple and

stupid and artificial.

My world's bad luck that

you weren't born in it.

- Madam?

- Yes, it it.

How would you like a little

holiday, Signorina Anni?

Some of the fine hotels, say,

have servants wait on you?

Plenty of food, sunshine,

beautiful clothes.

I'm not going there so I can

have a red evening dress.

'Yeah, of course,

anything you want.'

I think I'll send you to Turin.

- What's that? A sanatorium?

No, it is a fashionable hotel

in the Tyrol

filled with the ladies and

gentlemen of breeding.

Give me two weeks,

of it, two weeks exactly.

Waiter, give me a pencil.

I'll wire the hotel, the best

room for my little friend.

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