Seven Beauties (Pasqualino Settebellezze)

SEVEN BEAUTIES

The ones who don't enjoy themselves, even when they laugh.

Oh, yeah.

The ones who worship the corporate image,

not knowing that they work for someone else.

Oh, yeah.

The ones who should have been shot in the cradle.

Pow! Oh, yeah.

The ones who say, “Follow me to success,

but kill me if I fail,” so to speak.

Oh, yeah.

The ones who say, “We Italians are the greatest he-men on earth.”

Oh, yeah.

The ones who are from Rome.

The ones who say, “That's for me.”

The ones who say, “You know what I mean?” Oh, yeah.

The ones who vote for the right

because they're fed up with the strikes, oh, yeah.

The ones who vote white in order not to get dirty.

The ones who never get involved with politics, oh, yeah.

The ones who say, “Be calm. Calm.”

The ones who still support the king.

The ones who say, “Yes, sir.” Oh, yeah.

The ones who make love standing in their boots

and imagine they're in a luxurious bed.

The ones who believe Christ is Santa Claus as a young man.

Oh, yeah.

The ones who say, “Oh, what the hell?”

The ones who were there.

The ones who believe in everything,

even in God.

The ones who listen to the national anthem, oh, yeah.

The ones who love their country.

The ones who keep going and going,

just to see how it will end.

Oh, yeah.

The ones who are in garbage up to here.

Oh, yeah.

The ones who sleep soundly, even with cancer.

Oh, yeah.

The ones who, even now, don't believe the world is round.

Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah.

The ones who are afraid of flying. Oh, yeah.

The ones who have never had a fatal accident. Oh, yeah.

The ones who've had one.

The ones who, at a certain point in their lives,

create a secret weapon.

Christ, oh, yeah.

The ones who are always standing at the bar.

The ones who are always in Switzerland.

The ones who started early, haven't arrived

and don't know they're not going to.

Oh, yeah.

The ones who lose wars by the skin of their teeth.

Oh, yeah.

The ones who say, “Everything is wrong here.”

The ones who say, “Now let's all have a good laugh.”

Oh, yeah.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, yeah.

What the hell?

- My God! - Jesus! Jesus!

Why, you're Italian.

And you? Who are you?

- Were you on that train? - Damn right I was.

Damned, miserable woods.

You scared me to death.

These Germans, first they shoot and then ask, “Who's there?”

You're telling me.

Maybe you can tell me where the hell we are.

L'd say it's Germany.

Anyway, what I say is, we're better off here than on the train.

- That's for sure. - That train is a blast furnace.

Poor bastards.

Yes, poor them.

You know, I'm not really wounded.

I've got to be a deserter, or worse, by now.

Worse. No doubt about that.

Faking a wound...

But anyway...

It's pretty good. It looks real, my lad.

I saved myself,

but I was helped out by a dead man, may his soul rest in peace.

With all due respect for the dead, I had to take his bandages.

Instead of being in Stalingrad,

I'm here.

So I said to my men, where are we going?

What are we doing, running around like this?

Who wants to go around killing?

Let's go. Go back home.

You can't work for people who send you with cardboard shoes.

Here, where when you blow your nose you get a crystal chandelier

and when you shit you get icicles.

So I grabbed two trucks and sent the men home.

I hope they made it.

They would have had me shot tomorrow.

I hate the military courts here.

How long is this river?

It must be the Rhine.

- Where is that? - It's still in Germany.

Then it's still a pain in the ass.

Damn!

Who were they?

Maybe they are the Jews.

- That's impossible. - It's possible.

And we're as guilty as they are. We're accomplices to those rotten shits.

Why do you think that we're accomplices?

Because we didn't make a sound, didn't come out and spit in their faces.

We could have, but we ran instead.

That's crazy. How could we have?

They'd have come after us and we'd be shot.

Useless suicide.

No, it wouldn't have been useless

because in the face of certain things you've got to say no,

and instead I said yes to Mussolini, to duty and to all that crap.

In this war I've killed bastards I didn't even know.

I killed before the war, but I had my reasons.

I kill like an idiot, for no reason.

I did it for a woman.

I killed for a woman.

A woman...

A woman...

Mama, mama, mama mia

What a bad thing is jealousy

Tell Marianna she seems an old bag

How much you have to sanction me

What a funny trick

The fascist Italy under sanction

They want to give us such a slap

I do not care a rap about sanctions

I feel better alone

Than accompanied badly

I am a real beauty

Since I was sanctioned

Oh, pretty sanction

Shit, coffee

Mess, mess, mess

No sanction, no more

, I'll make

Who blows a raspberry

- She must be kidding! - What more do you want?

Screw off!

Let's see you dance!

Walking cow!

Screw off! Drop dead!

How about letting me tickle you all over?

You can tickle your mama!

I'll give you something, so don't push.

Nothing easy about me!

- What a lass! - We want more!

What do you want me to do? There! There!

Give us more!

Take it off!

Come on!

Forget it! Fuck you!

There! There!

- Pasqualino. - Let's talk, Concetti.

Look at yourself in the mirror.

Go on! Take a look at yourself!

Are you pretty? No, you're not pretty.

You're not even intelligent.

Among Mom and our sisters there isn't a penny.

I'm the only man in the house with eight women.

There's one thing I've tried to defend.

One thing! Our honor!

To protect and defend that honor as best I can.

Not being the biggest or strongest man in the world,

I carry this thing around, I wear this gun.

They know about it and they have to respect us.

And you ugly, miserable pig

put your disgusting thighs on display in a musical...

because that lousy rat said he'd make you famous.

That filthy bastard who helped to get you started and gave you this job...

- I'll kill him. - No!

I'll shoot him.

You mustn't! I beg you!

He'll marry me! He promised!

I'm going on 37. I'll be a spinster!

Better a spinster than a whore! I must kill him.

No! Potono will marry me!

First he'll make me somebody, then his bride.

Somebody! Somebody? Come on.

Look at yourself. A squawking crow.

Didn't you hear them?

Disgraceful! What a shame! I'll kill that Potono!

No! I'm through! I have a much better contract.

He'll help me sing at Club Margarita, then he'll marry me.

He made me a promise. He loves me very much.

One month, eh?

I give him one month to straighten things up.

One month! Our house mustn't be dishonored.

You understand, idiot? Understand?

Imagine the eldest becoming a whore.

What will the others do? Become whores?

He's got a month...

to marry you...

or I'll kill him.

The word of Pasqualino Seven Beauties.

Do you understand?