Francesco Page #3

Where is your armor? Your horses?

Wait!

- Don't hit me!

Wait!

Are you crazy? Are you sick too?

It's all right...

It' all right... it's all right.

No...

What need is there to go to Foligno?

to sell these things...

Aren't you going

to wait for your father?

There's no time. Someone's waiting.

- Who? A customer?

Don't worry. Don't worry.

He sold the cloth to give

money to those in need.

He started living among the poor and the

lepers. His father was beside himself.

If Francesco had lost a fortune

in misguided business venture,

well, Pietro would have understood it.

He unburdened himself to me.

He said he considered his son a failure.

It was his own fault for spoiling him.

He asked my advice.

This should be a normal civil suit

between a father, who is suing his son

for removing property and

squandering it and then...

Wait, the son didn't ask to be heard in

this tribunal, it was the City's consuls

who decided the matter came

under the ecclesiastic court...

The wrong tribunal. As far as I know, my

client's son is not a priest or a monk...

true, but he has declared

himself to be a penitent.

A "penitent!" A penitent

toward his father, perhaps.

No! A "penitent" toward God.

A meaningless expression.

Here some quite specific

things are involved,

such as the question of the

patrimony of father and son.

The son is the owner of goods that

the father has already passed to him.

And that the son could now

squander in the same way

Not to mention

the rights of inheritance...

No! One moment! The "penitent"

publicly declares that

from this moment on, he will make no

further claim against his father's wealth.

My boy, reflect. From this moment on

you could be stripped of everything.

Of every rights

in the present and in the future.

He says he has thought it over

and has decided.

Francesco!

What have I done to you?

What did I do wrong?

Yes, I was annoyed by those

things you took away,

but I have already forgotten that.

After all you wanted to give alms.

That's only right.

You thought that household things

were also yours to dispose of.

And so you did. Right.

That, too, must be done, otherwise

what sort of Christians would we be?

But now you must be

yourself again. Let's go home.

Think about your mother...

We have disturbed

the consuls and the bishop

for a family matter

and I apologize...

my client has embraced

a different life.

He cannot go home.

What life?

The life of a beggar?

Some gratitude!

He cannot do this, my lord bishop!

You cannot allow a son to

trample on the rights of a father!

I've spent a fortune to

bring him up like a gentleman.

It cost me his weight in gold

to free him from prison.

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