Via Margutta Page #6

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I'm choosing my moment, aren't I?

But I'm tired of talking to people.

I'm tired of studying, it hurts my head.

I feel like crying!

- But you're not a maid anymore...

save the money for yourself,

I work instead of you...

and you feel like crying?

- Yes.

This is a chance to make money!

Here, take this, and keep studying!

Don't make me regret helping you.

Bye.

Bye.

Who was Renoir?

- French painter from the 1800s.

And Modigliani?

- My master!

Good! Bye.

- Bye.

I've no idea about this stuff.

Pippo!

Hi!

Excuse me, Pippo, do me a favour

and lend me 5,000 lire, will you?

Again?

- I need it for my girlfriend.

Oh God, it's my mother, quick!

One of these days I'll explain everything.

Remo!

- Hi, Mum! Thanks.

Where are you going at this hour?

- I'll be right back, Mum!

What did he want from you?

- Nothing, Ma'am, just an address.

He helps deliver paintings for me

so I give him a bit of money.

I think that boy has been

bothering you for too long.

It's no bother, goodnight.

- Goodnight, Mr. Contigliani.

Do you have a light, please?

- How are you, Pippo?

Stefano! What are you doing here?

Nothing, I wanted to see Marco.

- At this hour?

Yeah, I knocked but no one answered.

Stefano, how long has it been...

Let me see you, Stefano.

I was waiting for your phone call.

You haven't shown your face in Via Margutta.

There are too many artists around here.

I'm nothing but an artisan...

not even an...

- An amateur, I know.

The same old irony.

And you, always out looking for a light?

What did you want from Marco?

Nothing, just some advice.

- Perhaps he's in the tavern.

Marta is singing tonight, poor thing.

She spent all her advance on a dress.

How are things going?

- Not bad, lots of work.

Are you selling?

- Yes, in Milan, Torino...

They like my paintings in the North.

Every painter has his area.

I'm happy for you.

- Thanks. - But I don't believe you.

I don't think people go looking...

for advice from a friend at this hour.

Really? - Stefano, if you

need help, anything at all...

some cash, just ask me.

- Okay.

Tell me, Pippo, you believe

that I'm an artist, right?

You respect me as a painter.

- Certainly.

Say it!

If you ask me like that,

it loses all its value.

I'm offering you my help,

my friendship...

these are the things that count.

- You're right, Pippo.

Goodnight.

- You're leaving?

I'll take a look inside.

- Come and see me some time.

We'll see!

- And bring your paintings, if you want.

Never.

- Are you offended?

Heavens no, Pippo!

Goodnight.

- Goodnight.

Jerry!

Look who it is! - Seen Marco?

- No, I've not seen him.

"Only the regret...

of your love for me...

In place of my heart...

I hold your memory."

Well done!

And now, ladies and gentlemen,

and the rest of you...

I shall sing for you a song...

written by the American

sculptor, Bill Rogers!

The name of the song is:

"Your Head in My Suitcase".

Marta, sing!

"Always, always more jealous...

always more curious, of my love for you...

Okay, perhaps I went too far...

because I killed you,

and you're here with me...

in the suitcase, all chopped up...

into different compartments, divided...

I cut you, cut you, cut you,

and sobbing I cut you...

I cut you, I cut you, I cut you,

until it hurts no more!

I feel my heart beating...

for this crazy love

that I don't want to cure...

Always, always more jealous...

always more eager,

that you're here with me..."

Quiet!

"...into different compartments, divided..."

I'm the manager, Sir.

- Somebody stole from my wife!

Where's he running to?

What do you want?

Let go of me!

What happened?

A thief!

- Are you hurt?

Stefano!

- Yes!

How did it go, did you see that client?

Yes, I saw him.

Did he give you the advance?

- Not yet!

What? You said he'd

give it to you tonight?

Well, he didn't give it to me.

Stefano!

Stefano, what's wrong?

- Nothing, Donata, I need to sleep.

Come over here.

- Why?

Come on, I've something to show you...

Go on!

Hold on!

- No, stop it!

Here we go...

Look! Stefano, I found work!

Yes, I really did!

A job at the Di Lello Trattoria.

Working as a maid!

- Working to earn the money we need.

Stefano, this poverty is over...

having to smoke a cigarette to

ignore your hunger, it's over!

I didn't look for it, they asked me.

I'm so lucky:
I have a house...

Alright, it's horrible, but who

says we can't change it?

I have you, and now I even have a job.

Sit down, I'll open this bottle.

Like this, how the waiters do it.

French Champagne!

I might be a fool,

but I love the good stuff.

All or nothing, eh Stef...

Stefano! Stefano!

What's wrong?

I've never seen you like this, Stefano...

Go back to your house, Donata.

Go away!

Go away!

What do you mean, go away?

And leave you alone, like a dog?

No, I'm here and that's where I'll stay.

The model or the maid, what do I care?

I don't know anything and they pay me,

but for you it's different.

Your work is different, it takes time.

If you don't sell the paintings today,

you'll sell them tomorrow.

You think I'm an idiot,

that I don't know how good you are?

When you find your fortune,

I want to be at the front of the queue...

to enjoy my share,

more than just champagne!

You'll buy me a fur coat!

You'll buy me a 600, eh Stefano?

Donata...

Sleepyheads, failures!

Your old friend Giosu is here!

Donata, Bill, Marco!

- Giosu, come up!

Hi, Giosu!

- Come on!

I'm coming!

Just a minute, okay?

You're hot?

Well, at least you'll mature.

Marta, Giosu is here!

- Giosu?

Where is he?

- He's coming up!

Giosu!

- Marco, how are you?

Marta!

Giosu, hi!

- Are you still here?

You're not back with your parents?

- When I get old, maybe.

You never get old around here, be careful!

But you're all terrible,

you made a huge mess...

It was your fault,

you made up a fiance.

That's true, but it's all fine...

I bought 10 hectares of land

for my father.

Guys, I'm really rich,

so rich it makes me cry...

to think what I was before.

- What did you do, then?

Did you marry the Germans?

- One, the other is dead.

But she left everything to my wife.

- That, too?

And your wife?

- She's waiting in the car.

Call her, won't you?

- No, you're my friends!

At this time of day she'll

melt out there in the sun!

Exactly, that's my business.

How long are you in Rome for?

- A month or two, depends how I feel.

I missed the terraces, the trees...

Who's that?

- That's my boyfriend.

Thomas, say hello to my friend Giosu!

Hello.

- Hello.

His skin is so much lighter!

No, this is a different one!

- What do you mean? Thomas...

Thomas, but a different one.

You know, that other Thomas was

too dark-skinned, it made me sad.

And what can I say, if they're

under 6 foot, I'm not happy.

I know what you mean, my darling!

Here, look at me!

Can I come in, then?

- Of course!

Marco, I'm drinking!

- Go ahead, drink!

A bar, television, fridge...

Marco, who did you marry?

- No one, I little success...

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