Puccini: Gianni Schicchi

Poor Buoso.

Poor cousin.

Poor uncle.

O, Buoso. Buoso.

O, brother-in-law. O, bro...

I'll weep for days and days.

Days'?

For months!

Months? For years and years!

I'll mourn you my whole life.

Poor Buoso.

Take him away, Gherardo.

O, Buoso, Buoso,

all our lives

we shall mourn your passing.

We shall mourn...

We shall mourn.

Buoso, Buoso.

...all our lives.

What?

Really?

That's what they say in Sigma.

What do they say in Sigma'?

They say that...

What'?

That's what they say in Sigma.

What do they say in Sigma'?

They say that...

No.

Marco, do you hear what they say in Sigma'?

They say that...

Well, may we all know...

That's what they say in Sigma.

...what the devil do they say in Sigma'?

There are rumours,

bits of gossip.

They were saying yesterday evening round at Cisti the baker's:

"if Buoso dies, it will be manna for the monks."

"They'll be saying, 'Belly, it's time to feast."'

And someone else said: "Yes, yes, yes, in his will

he's left everything to a monastery."

What'? Who says so'?

That's what they say in Sigma.

Is that what they say in Sigma'?

That's what they say in Sigha.

O, Simone'?

Simone.

Say something. You're the eldest.

You've also been mayor of Fucecchio.

What do you think'?

What do you think'?

If the will is in the hands of a lawyer,

perhaps we'll be unlucky.

But if he has left it in this room,

unlucky monks, but hope for us.

Unlucky monks, but hope for us.

O, Laurette, my love,

let's put our hopes on my uncle's will.

No, it's not it.

No, it isn't there.

No, it isn't there.

Where can it be'?

We're saved! We're saved!

Buoso Donati's will.

Aunt, I'm the one who found it.

In return, tell me if uncle,

poor uncle,

has left me well-off,

if we'll all be rich soon.

On a happy day like this,

would you consent to my marrying

Lauretta, Schicchi's daughter?

My inheritance will seem sweeter

if I can marry her on May Day.

O, yes.

There's time to discuss it later.

I could marry her on May Day.

Quick, give us the will.

Can't you see that we're all on edge'?

Aunt.

If everything goes as we hope it will,

marry who you like,

even the devil's daughter.

O, uncle loved me very much,

he's sure to have left me with my pockets full.

Run over to Gianni Schicchi's

and tell him to come here with Lauretta:

Buosds nephew Rinuccio is expecting him.

Here are two popolinos.

Buy yourself some sweets.

"To my cousins Zita and Simone."

Poor Buoso.

You must have all the candles.

They must burn

right down to the base.

Yes, enjoy them, enjoy them.

Poor Buoso.

If only he'd left me this house.

- And the mills at Sigma. - And the mule.

- If only he'd left me the mule and the mills. - The mills of Sigma.

Quiet.

It's open.

So it was true!

We shall see the monks

grow fat at the Donati's expense.

All those lovely florins he saved up

finishing in the monk's habits.

Robbing all of us of a living,

and letting the monks wallow in plenty.

I shall have to limit my drinking at Sigma,

while the monks drink the fruit of the vine.

They'll have to keep letting out their robes.

We'll burst with rage and they'll burst with goodies.

My happiness will be stolen b

y the holy works of Santa Reparata.

Open the monastery pantries!

Be happy, brothers, and sharpen your teeth!

Here you are - the first fruits from the market.

Lick your lips!

Here, poor brothers, plump thrushes.

Meaty quails.

Larks.

- Ortolans. - Warblers.

- Meaty quails. Fatted geese. - Ortolans.

- And cockerels. - Cockerels. The youngest cockerels.

The tenderest young cockerels.

And with your rosy, well-fed faces, laugh at us:

Larks and cockerels. There's a Donati.

Who would ever have said that when Buoso went to the grave

we would be weeping in earnest!

And is there no way...

She would cry for real.

...to get round it'?

... To change '?

"To turn it '?

...soften it'?

O, Simone, Simone'?

You're the eldest.

And you've also been mayor of Fucecchio.

There is only one person who can advise us,

perhaps save us.

Who'?

Gianni Schicchi.

I don't want Gianni Schicchi

and his daughter mentioned again.

Do you understand'?

He's coming now.

Who'?

Gianni Schicchi.

Who called him'?

I sent for him because I was hoping...

This is a fine time to have Gianni Schicchi under our feet.

You should only obey your father.

Imagine a Donati marrying the daughter of a peasant!

Someone who's come up to Florence from the country!

Imagine being related to newcomers.

I will not have him here.

I won't.

You're mistaken.

He's crafty,

astute.

He knows everything about the traps in the law

and the codex.

A wag! A joker!

Is there some new, rare practical joke going round'?

It's Gianni Schicchi who set it up.

Shrewd eyes light up his funny face with laughter,

and his huge nose throws a shadow

just like an old ruined tower.

He's from the country'?

good

So what'?

Enough of this petty,

small-minded prejudice.

Florence is like a tree in flower,

whose trunk and branches are found in the Piazza dei Signori,

but its roots bring new strength

in from the fresh, fruitful valleys.

Florence grows and solid palaces

and slender towers rise up to the stars.

Before the Arno runs to the sea, singing,

it kisses the Piazza Santa Croce,

and its song is so sweet and resonant

that the streams join it in chorus.

And so artists and scientists have joined

to make Florence richer and more splendid.

And from the castles of Val d'Elsa

welcome Arnolfo, come down to build his beautiful tower.

And welcome Giotto from leafy Mugel,

and Medici, the valiant merchant.

Enough of narrow-minded malice and spite!

Long live the newcomers

and Gianni Schicchi!

It's him.

What expressions of dismay and sorrow...

- Lauretta. - Rino.

...Buoso Donati must have got better.

My love.

Why so pale'?

Alas, my uncle...