Brother Sun, Sister Moon (Fratello sole, sorella luna)

Oh, the drums are so mournful My dear, oh, my love

As my thoughts They are turning your way

Where are the eyes I beheld with my own

On that long ago lazy day?

Dead are the leaves On the stark battlefield

The stench of the flesh sickens me

I slept soaking wet

And the worms ate my bread

And the moaning of men filled the air

Oh, green are the leaves Of the old apple tree

Those sweet perfumed Blossoms of spring

Entwined in your hair

The smile in your eye

A soft blade of grass for a ring

- François! - Francesco!

François!

François. François...

- He's ill! - What's happened to you?

He's come back from the war because he's ill. He's not a coward!

- My dear son. - Come on.

Warm are the loaves

That cool on the sill

To the song of the clear, trickling stream

The good, clean smell

Of the rough woven sheets

The song of the children at play

Oh, the drums are so mournful

My dear, oh, my love

As my thoughts They are turning your way

Where are the eyes I beheld with my own?

On that long ago lazy day

On that long ago lazy day

- Francesco, please! - Come on!

He's been riding all night, too. On a girl, not on a horse!

- And tomorrow, we'll ride into battle. - If we win, do we get all the girls?

Of course, that's what wars are made for!

It's getting late, let's go home and prepare.

- War's a serious business. - Such profundity, Bernardo!

Why?

Why?

Bernardo...

What a pity. It's over.

Yes, it's a pity.

But I hope we'll live to see another dawn like this.

The last night of our youth.

Do you realise that?

We try so desperately to make it never end.

We should have stopped the sun from rising.

Come on, Francesco!

Wait!

Leave me alone.

Please.

Brothers!

Brothers!

Lepers.

Yes. Lepers.

No!

No! I don't want to see them!

I don't want to see them! Get them out!

No! No!

You're not dressed yet? What've you been doing?

Pica! Please stop all this sissified nonsense!

The boy's going off to war. Besides, I don't understand a word!

Why do you leave me out? Don't speak French around me!

If you wanted a wife who speaks like you,

why didn't you marry a butcher's daughter?

Bravo, François!

Forgive me, Father.

Forgive me, Father.

Hey, wait! We must talk!

What shall we do with all the money we'll make out of this war?

I see!

A true son of his father, eh, Pica?

- We are going to be late for Mass. - They'll wait. Listen, Francesco.

Out of the way!

Francesco, when you're in Perugia,

don't forget DeGoli's storerooms behind the marketplace.

- He's as rich as the Pope. - Yes, leave it to me.

- And Francesco... - What else?

Remember the cathedral triptych. It'll save us a fortune in indulgences.

Yes. War is beautiful.

This is my death mask.

Go forth, sons of Assisi.

God is with you!

Francesco!

Francesco!

Francesco!

Flowers in the meadow Softly sway

And all the little birds Sing merry May Day

Rabbits in the orchard Sport and play

And all the little creatures Smile and are gay

My little boy

Sing out your joy

I am near, my dear

My darling, do not fear

Love is all around you

Comforting with gentle lullaby

To make your heart sing

- What's he doing up there? - That's Bernardone's son.

François! Be careful!

Francesco! Francesco!

Birds are singing sweet and low

From the trees that gently grow

Soft and soothing breezes blow

On this lovely day

To the meadow there go I

To wander as the butterfly

How the flowers please my eye

On this lovely day

I wish it could be always

Life is easy on such a day

I wish this peace on everyone

On this lovely day

On this lovely day

Francesco...

Francesco, what is it?

Francesco, my sweet Francesco,

what's happening to you?

You can tell me. We've always understood each other, we...

We've always been close, you and...

Let me help you, my darling.

Sit down, sit down. Take a drink.

Yes, business is booming, life's back to normal at last.

Talking of business, I've fine stuff you won't find anywhere but here.

Look at this damask from Provence. Beautiful, isn't it?

Feel the texture.

I'd like you to compare this with one from Venice. This one here.

- Look at your hands! - Forgive me.

If I find one finger mark on my silks, I'll beat you till you're black and blue!

You dirty little pig! These servants are just like animals.

- How's your son? Better now? - Yes, thank God.

He's cost a fortune in Masses, but the worst is over.

Now, there we are.

He's begun to get up and soon he'll be at Mass. Take it into the light.

Do you remember me?

I'm Clare.

People say you're mad.

Do you know that?

When you went off to war, they said you were fine and intelligent.

But now you're mad, because...

...because you sing like the birds,

you chase after butterflies and...

...and you look at flowers.

I think you were mad before, not now.

Am I disturbing you? I'll go...

You see? He talks with her.

Thanks be to God.

That's obviously what was wrong with him. He needed a woman.

You look at things so clumsily, Monseigneur.

- His heart awakes. - Call it what you like.

That lad's after a woman. That's why he's been acting strangely.

What a lovely creature Clare is.

Not much of a catch, though. Her father won't pay for a wedding.

Still, if that's what Francesco wants, we'll find enough money.

Know what? I'll put him to work again.

- But... - No buts! You've spoiled him enough.

Besides, Francesco's always been good at business. He likes it.

He does. He takes after me. Always has done.

Come, you shall see. I followed your advice to the letter.

I bought and bought and bought,

and now we prosper.

I may curse the war for having given you this fever,

but for business it was a blessing.

Come, come, you shall see.

This will set the blood coursing through your veins.

Better than all those potions and medicines the women give you!

Eh? Go, go!

Look at that, eh, Francesco. Look. You see this?

And to think people speak badly of war, eh?

Come, come, I'll show you!

You know how it started, Francesco? With the war supplies.

After the war, the soldiers sold their loot.

Then the ones who'd been looted sold everything they had to rebuild,

practically giving away things.

I'll show you. Look at these.

Look... Francesco.

See these, eh?

Family heirlooms. Titled people.

On their knees, they were. Cost me less than nothing.

This is not all, it's just the beginning. There's so much more.

We have enough money to make and sell with 200 workers.

Dyers, weavers... see for yourself. It belongs to you, too, don't forget.

God bless the master of this house

He be handsome, she be fair

Rings and buckles and bells and bows

A penny a rhyme will do me fine

Tuppence a rhyme I told you so

Yes.

Yes.

He invited them, if you please, out for a stroll!

He led them into the sunshine and they sat there all afternoon!

Nobody did a stroke of work!

And that simpleton, that idiot boy, he just looked on!

He doesn't get it from me. There's no insanity in my side of the family!

I've had enough of your airs.

You're not in noble Provence now. You'll not play the great lady here!

You've ruined him. You've pampered him with your Frenchified airs and graces.

He's nothing more than a cringing idiot. Something's got to be done.

But not by you!

You're a stupid, thick-headed, vulgar animal. That's what you are!