The Godfather Page #19

DON ZALUCHI:

I don't believe in drugs. For

years I paid my people extra so

they wouldn't do that kind of

business...$200 a week. But it

didn't matter. Somebody comes to

them and says, "I have powders, if

you put up three, four thousand

dollar investment, we can make

fifty thousand distributing." Who

can resist such a profit?

There's no way to control it, as a

business...to keep it respectable.

(rapping the table)

I don't want it near schools! I

don't want it sold to children.

That is an infamita.

(thinking)

In my city I would try to keep the

traffic in the dark people, the

colored. They are the best

customers, the least troublesome,

and they are animals anyway. They

have no respect for their wives or

their families or themselves. Let

them lose their souls with drugs.

But something has to be done, we

can't have everybody running around

doing just what they please, like a

bunch of anarchists.

BARZINI:

Then, are we agreed; the traffic in

drugs will be permitted, but

controlled; and Don Corleone agrees

to give it protection in the East.

DON CORLEONE nods.

BARZINI:

That's the whole matter then, we

have the peace, and let me pay my

respects to Don Corleone, whom we

have all known over the years as a

man of his word.

(noticing TATTAGLIA

is uneasy)

Don Philip?

TATTAGLIA:

I agree to everything here, I'm

willing to forget my own misfortune.

But I must hear strict assurance

from Corleone. When time goes by

and his position becomes stronger,

will he attempt any individual

vengeance?

They all look at the DON; especially HAGEN, who feels that

DON CORLEONE has given a great deal, and must have something

else in mind. Slowly the DON rises.

DON CORLEONE:

I forego my vengeance for my dead

son, for the common good. But I

have selfish reasons. My youngest

son had to flee, accused of

Sollozzo's murder, and I must now

make arrangements so that he can

come home with safety, cleared of

all those false charges. That is

my affair, and I will make those

arrangements.

(with strength)

But I am a superstitious man...and

so if some unlucky accident should

befall my youngest son, if some

police officer should accidentally

shoot him, or if he should hang

himself in his cell, or if my son

is struck by a bolt of lightning,

then I will blame some of the

people here. That, I could never

forgive, but...aside from that, let

me swear by the souls of my

Grandchildren that I will never be

the one to break the peace we have

made.

EXT NITE:
DON'S LIMO (SPRING 1946)

The DON's black limousine. He sits quietly in the padded

rear seat; TOM HAGEN next to him.

It is night. Lights flash by them every so often.

HAGEN:

When I meet with Tattaglia's

people; should I insist that all

his drug middle-men be clean?

DON CORLEONE:

Mention it, don't insist. Barzini

is a man who will know that without

being told.

HAGEN:

You mean Tattaglia.

DON CORLEONE:

(shaking his head)

Barzini.

HAGEN:

(a revelation)

He was the one behind Sollozzo?

DON CORLEONE:

Tattaglia is a pimp. He could

never have outfought Santino. But

I wasn't sure until this day. No,

it was Barzini all along.

The black limousine speeds away from us in the night.

------------------------------------------FADE OUT------

FADE IN:

EXT DAY:
ESTABLISHING SICILY SHOT

A CLOSE VIEW OF MICHAEL, moving as he walks, sullen and

downcast, the left side of his face healed, but left

grotesque and misshapen.

GRADUALLY, THE VIEW LOOSENS, he wears a warm navy Pea

jacket, and walks with his hands in his pockets.

THE VIEW LOOSENS FURTHER, revealing a Sicilian SHEPHERD on

either side of him, each carrying a shotgun slung over his

shoulder, CALO, a squat and husky young man with a simple

honest quality, and FABRIZZIO, slender and handsome, likable,

and with a pleasing build. Each of the SHEPHERDS carry

knapsacks.

The THREE YOUNG MEN continue over the Sicilian landscape,

overlooking an impressive view of land and sea.

EXT DAY:
SICILY ROAD

The THREE move through a flock of wind-blown sheep, and make

their way to a dusty rural road. We HEAR a rinky horn

sound, as a pre-war Italian automobile makes its way to them.

An OLD MAN peeks from the window, waving to MICHAEL. The

car pulls in front of them and stops. MICHAEL nods

respectfully.

MICHAEL:

Don Tommassino.

DON TOMMASSINO:

Michael, why must you do this. We

have been lucky so far, all these

months you've been here we've kept

your name a secret. It is from

love for your father that I've

asked you never to more than an

hour from the Villa.

MICHAEL:

Calo and Fabrizzio are with me;

nothing will happen.

DON TOMMASSINO:

You must understand that your

Father's enemies have friends in

Palermo.

MICHAEL:

I know.

DON TOMMASSINO:

Where are you going?

MICHAEL:

Corleone.

DON TOMMASSINO:

There is nothing there. Not anymore.

MICHAEL:

I was told that my Grandfather was

murdered on its main street; and

his murderers came to kill my

father there when he was twelve

years old.

DON TOMMASSINO:

Long ago. Now there is nothing:

the men killed each other in family

vendettas...the others escaped to

America.

MICHAEL:

Don Tommassino...I should see this

place.

DON TOMMASSINO thinks a moment, then concedes.

DON TOMMASSINO:

That is your birthright...but

Michael, use this car.

MICHAEL:

No...I would like to walk to

Corleone.

The OLD MAN sighs, and then returns to his car.

DON TOMMASSINO:

Be careful Michael, don't let them

know your name.

The old car sputters off; MICHAEL watches, and then continues

on his journey.

EXT DAY:
COUNTRYSIDE

The THREE pass through abundant areas of flowers and fruit

trees, in bloom and bursting with life.

EXT DAY:
VILLAGE

They continue in the empty streets of a little town; the

post-war poverty is evident in the skinny dogs; and the

empty streets. Occasionally, a military vehicle, the only

gasoline-powered vehicles on the road, will pass. And there

are many POLICE evident, most of them carrying machine guns.

The THREE pass under an enormous banner slung over the main

road "VOTA COMMUNISTA".

EXT DAY:
COUNTRY ROAD

They continue through dusty country roads, where occasionally

a donkey pulling a cart, or a lone horseman will pass them.

EXT DAY:
FIELD

Out in a field, in the distance, they come upon a procession

of peasants and activists, perhaps two hundred strong,

marching, and singing, and in the lead, are five or six men

carrying billowing red banners.

EXT DAY:
GROVE

They are in an orange grove; on the other side of the trees

is a deep, tall field of wild flowers.

The Shepherds unsling their guns and knapsacks, and take out

loaves of bread, some wine, sausage and cheese.

MICHAEL rests against a tree, and uses his handkerchief.

FABRIZZIO:

You tell us about America.

MICHAEL:

How do you know I come from America?

FABRIZZIO:

We hear. We were told you were a

Pezzonovanta...big shot.

MICHAEL:

Only the son of a Pezzonovanta.

FABRIZZIO:

Hey America! Is she as rich as

they say?

MICHAEL:

Yes.

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