The Leopard (Il gattopardo)

THE LEOPARD

What is that noise?

What's going on? Speak!

Excellency, a dead soldier has been found in the garden.

What?

There are disturbances all over the city.

This letter arrived from Duke Malvica.

It's very urgent.

"Dear Fabrizio, read the dreadful news in the paper.

The Piedmontese have landed. We are all lost.

My family and I will take refuge on a British warship tonight.

You will surely wish to do the same.

May God save our king. Yours..."

What a rabbit!

"On May 11th, an act of flagrant piracy culminated

in the landing of armed men at Marsala.

The band numbers about 800 and is led by Garibaldi.

They managed to avoid an encounter with royal troops

and headed for Castelvetrano,

threatening, pillaging and laying waste."

Paolo, you'll move to our palace in Palermo tonight.

Right now, a house empty is a house lost.

No, Fabrizio, it's too dangerous!

It's war!

- Francesco Paolo, call Mimi. - Right away, Papa.

The revolution.

I can't breathe!

Domenico!

Mimi's coming, Papa.

- Excuse me, Your Excellency, but-- - I know, I know!

Go tell Don Antonio to harness the bays to the carriage. Go!

I'm going down to Palermo after dinner.

- Father Pirrone. - Yes?

- You'll come with me. - Me?

May the Lord protect us.

With the streets full of soldiers -

Calm down.

You can spend a couple of hours with your Jesuit friends.

Very well, Excellency.

To dinner... in half an hour.

Everyone.

What are we to do?

Those swine stink even when they're dead.

Salvatore, did you report it? - Yes.

Excellency, they've been told at the barracks to come remove him.

Bad times, Excellency.

Look at all the fires on the mountains!

- The rebel encampments. - I can see them, Father.

Are you anxious about Don Tancredi?

He should beware of such dangerous friendships.

He's not to blame. It's the times!

Of course.

These days, a wellborn young man can't enjoy a game of cards without getting involved in dangerous friendships.

- Yes, I know. - Enough, then!

Even so, a bit of caution -

I said enough.

Stop!

Sergeant!

Villa Airoldi block post.

- Good evening, Excellency. - Good evening, Sergeant.

Forgive me.

Let them pass.

It's His Excellency, the Prince of Salina.

Good evening, Excellency.

What a lovely country this would be if--

If there weren't so many Jesuits.

I'll come for you at 10:00.

And Father... pray well.

Let's go.

Where could we go?

- The tavern down at the harbor. - I know the place.

Good evening, handsome.

- Melina, he's not for you. - Mind your own business.

My prince!

Good morning, Uncle.

Tancredi.

What were you up to last night?

Last night? Nothing.

Just out with friends for an innocent evening.

Not like some people I know who went down to Palermo

for some fun.

Who might that be?

You, Uncle.

I saw you with my own eyes at Villa Airoldi, talking to the sergeant at the block post.

A fine thing, at your age, and a priest with you too.

- You old libertine. - I guess it's true.

Why are you dressed like that?

Some fancy ball at this hour?

I'm leaving in an hour.

I came to say good-bye.

Why? Where are you going?

Not a duel?

Yes, a huge duel, with the king.

Little King Francis.

I'm off to the hills of Figuzza.

Great things are brewing, and I won't stay at home.

Anyway, I'd be arrested if I did.

You're mad!

Those people are mafiosi and troublemakers!

A Falconeri should stand with us, behind the king!

Behind the king. Right.

But which king?

You've said so yourself many times.

If Ferdinand were still alive, but little Francis?

God bless him, but no.

You think the Piedmontese will be better?

You trade the dialect of Turin for that of Naples, that's all.

How would you like Mazzini's republic, then?

Unless we take a hand, they'll foist a republic on us.

For things to remain the same,

everything must change.

Do you understand?

Good-bye. I'll be back with the tricolor.

The tricolor!

Your mouths are full of the word.

What is it compared to our white flag with the golden lily?

What hope can you have in that ugly clash of colors?

- Just you wait! You'll see I'm right. - Dreamers!

Good-bye, Uncle.

Good-bye.

See you soon.

Wait!

Yes, Uncle?

What's this?

Subsidizing the revolution?

Thank you.

See you soon. Respects to my aunt.

Concetta, don't. I'll be back soon.

Good-bye for now, Concettina.

Good morning, Excellency.

Good morning, Father.

Is Your Excellency here for confession?

Confession? It's not Saturday.

Listen to me. Come to confession.

There's no need. You know it all already.

The power of confession lies not only in telling our sins, but in repentance.

I know!

What would you have of me? I'm a vigorous man.

I can't find satisfaction with a woman who crosses herself in bed before every embrace...

...and can only say "Gesummaria" afterwards.

I've had seven children with her...

...and I've never seen her navel!

Is that right?

I ask you. She's the sinner!

Excellency, I was too blunt.

I wish only to remain in your good graces.

But take my advice and come to confession.

I have no intention of doing so.

Not today, anyway.

I've made some important political discoveries.

You know what is happening in our country?

Nothing.

Simply an imperceptible replacement of one class for another.

The middle class doesn't want to destroy us.

It simply wants to take our place, and very gently,

giving us a few thousand ducats in the process.

Then everything can go on as it is.

Understand, Father? Ours is a country of arrangements.

You nobles will come to an agreement with the liberals...

...and even with the Masons...

...at the expense of the Church.

Then our property, which is the patrimony of the poor,

will be seized and carved up by the ringleaders.

Then who will feed all the destitute who are sustained and guided by the Church?

How will those desperate masses be placated? I'll tell you.

By conceding them first a portion of your estates,

then another, until they have it all!

Our Lord healed the blind in body,

but what will happen to the blind in spirit?

We're not blind in spirit, Father.

We're just human beings in a changing world.

What should we do?

The church has been promised immortality.

We, as a social class, have not.

Any sop that promises us another 100 years of life is like eternity to us.

Beyond what we can touch with our own hands, we have no obligations.

But the Church has, because she is destined not to die.

Solace is implicit in her desperation.

Do you think that if the Church...

...could ever save herself by sacrificing us,

she wouldn't do so?

Of course she would, and rightly so.

You have two sins to confess on Saturday.

One of the flesh last night, one of the spirit today.

Remember that.

Look, Father.

What beauty!

It'll take any number of Victor Emmanuels to change this magic potion poured out for us every day.

Line up!

Aim! Fire!

Away, traitors!

Hang him!

There he is!

Let's hang him!

Forward!

All clear! Come on!

Stick close to the wall. You, follow me.

Help me!

He was a police spy! A murderer! He deserved it!

Come on, follow me!