Being Human Page #6

Aye. I feel lost, Ronald.

I'm far away from home.

I just want to be there.

What about the woman?

We're sharing a few days on the road.

I'm going home.

I told you she might be a witch.

Witch, my ass.

Wait for me.

I still have the money from Venice.

We can get home in a month.

You've got work to do here.

You'll make a good priest yet.

Do you think so?

You're a strange fellow.

I've been with you a year,

and I still don't know who you are.

You never will.

Are you a priest?

I don't know.

We're moving soon, father.

They need you in the valley.

I must be.

I can smell her off you.

Keep the sun on your back,

and you'll get home.

[Beatrice]

Hector.

Hector.

[speaking Italian]

And so this man...

who so long did not know

which foot to put

in front of the other

unless he had

his friend to follow,

without a qualm, for once,

went his own way,

which was the way of a woman.

[speaking Italian]

Only when the woman slept

could the man catch his breath.

[speaking Italian in her sleep]

[wolf howls]

[birds tweet]

I bought that in Jerusalem.

It's one of the cups

from the last supper.

I don't know which apostle.

Might even be the cup

of Christ himself.

Christ?

Aye.

Jesus Christ?

Oh.

Hey, you!

Move on!

He's a dead man.

What was the story

of the dead boy?

A mystery--

Money? Revenge?

A jealous uncle?

A war is a good time

to settle old scores.

[speaking Italian]

[praying in Italian]

By the dead boy,

the living lovers loved.

You put magic

in that stuff, didn't you?

You're bewitching me.

I don't know what you're saying,

but I like it when you talk.

[singing in Italian]

Thank you.

Until one fine day,

they crossed a river,

and...

[speaking Italian]

everyone spoke like her.

Beatrice...

wait.

We're going the wrong way.

I've got to have

the sun on my back.

My back.

[speaking Italian]

No, the sun on my back.

Lower.

[singing in Italian]

Thank you.

Wash?

You want me to rest?

Man's dead?

His clothes.

You want me to stay, don't you?

I like that.

A bed.

Soft.

Better than a field, aye?

[boy calling in Italian]

Mama...

[speaking Italian]

Questo Hector.

Questo mio madre.

Huh?

And the dead boy's shoes

danced the live lad's feet.

What's that?

[speaking Italian]

Where were his own children?

Far away, right?

What were the wonders

they'd be showing

some sweet stranger

who wasn't their father?

Bread, you eat?

Blue.

Your mother wears blue.

Roses, oh.

Smell.

Oh, that's nice.

In there?

Mama.

[bird squawks]

Buon.

Hector.

[speaking Italian]

I have to leave here.

It would be wrong to stay here,

even for just a while.

I've got to go to home.

This was true.

He could not speak her language,

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes