The Horseman on the Roof Page #2

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Who? There's no one.

I won't intrude.

You're not. I invited you.

I'm really sorry.

I look like a criminal.

And you dare to welcome me?

It's my aunts' home.

They're...

No, they left three days ago.

Come.

They only left tea, bread

and some honey. Is that all right?

It's fine. Perfect.

The bread's stale.

You must break it up.

Why are you standing?

You're tired. Please sit.

- Is the cat yours?

- Yes.

Well, no. He follows me.

He broke a glass.

If I survive,

my aunt will never forgive me.

I'm sorry.

Enough! Stay there!

Wait for me!

I'm making horrid noises.

Sorry. My throat's dry.

Stop apologizing.

You'll make me nervous.

- Sorry.

- I'll make tea.

Am I depriving you?

Nobody's depriving me.

You can't stay in this town.

You're alone, but you let strangers in.

You're very rash.

You think so?

I didn't open my door.

You fell from the sky.

You should have gone with your aunts.

Why didn't you?

Why?

I don't answer all questions.

- I'm sorry.

- Not again.

Are you always like this, so formal?

It's ridiculous?

Not at all. It's reassuring to meet

a person like you in these times.

I congratulate the person

who raised you.

Was it your mother?

How old?

Twenty-five.

That old.

I won't bother you.

What are you doing?

Thank you for tea.

Good-bye, madame.

- What did I say?

- I will not be ridiculed.

I didn't, at least not on purpose!

- You're so sensitive.

- Very.

Don't leave. Please...

stay a bit longer.

I'm scared too.

You hide it well.

Thank you.

I'll find it. Don't worry.

They always hide their plums and brandy.

My sweet aunts drive me crazy.

Put your hat on.

Angelo!

Giuseppe.

You devil.

Dear Mother,

Will this letter reach you?

There no longer is any mail here.

The roads and harbors are all cut off.

Cholera has struck, as you must know.

May God preserve Italy.

I braved the epidemic,

reaching Manosque,

to reunite with my friends in exile.

One of ours betrayed us.

A man I thought my childhood friend.

He sold us to the Austrians.

Maggionari. Yes, Paolo.

Remember, he would bring berries

in the summer.

He is the traitor.

I've seen the disease strike blindly.

It can kill us all, friend or foe.

The Austrians chasing us

are almost all dead.

What is the meaning of all this?

Do you know?

Is there some hidden message

that eludes me?

Some talk of a holy punishment.

But for what sins?

I was not prepared for this trial.

I try to be honorable,

but it's not always easy.

I seem to be changing,

to be seeking more from life.

- What's up? Move on!

- I'm exhausted.

It doesn't matter to me.

What for?

Stop! It's pointless.

We will die. All of us!

Shut up!

I hate this country. I want to go home!

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