Terra queimada Page #5

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In the name of the provisional government...

I invite you to discuss with us

the proposals for a constitution.

Gentlemen, shall we?

Sim, that was the chair of the governor.

May God bless you, Jos Dolores.

Thank you.

Well, senhores, you wanted to talk with me?

Here I am.

Well, come forward.

Come on, senhores.

We will talk.

But, I warn you, speak plainly.

Your government is provisional.

Well, my encampment is, too.

My people won't be delayed.

No.

No. No, no, and no.

For a month you've been answering "no".

Why don't you try

suggesting something, General?

Bastards!

Excuse me, General, but I must talk to you...

about a very urgent matter

concerning both our countries.

All of Queimada's sugar is rotting

in storehouses and on the quays.

And so?

But only a commercial agreement

between us can change this situation.

And so?

The temporary government no longer exists.

With whom can I negotiate?

Who will sign this agreement?

I was advised to ask you.

Who advised it?

I did.

I told him.

And not even England can wait forever.

But not only England buys the sugar.

No, and not only Queimada sells it.

Not to mention the fact that in Europe,

they're already extracting it from sugar beet.

Did you know that, General?

And what if Queimada

were not to sell any more sugar?

How would these people live?

You can't delay your decision, General.

Competition is getting stronger every day.

Are you familiar with the latest

raw sugar market quotation?

Ten and 11 raw sugars,

which up to a month ago...

were quoted at seven and five-eighths

to eight cents a pound...

at the last opening, had no price.

The refined, up eight and a quarter,

three quarters, down by a half, more or less.

Number 12, current category,

opened without firmness.

Refined, polarized at 96 degrees, and

lot 60 aren't even quoted at the opening.

That's enough. Get out!

But, General...

Leave me alone.

Everything seems quite clear.

I'm particularly good

at convincing my people...

and you, sir, have all the necessary qualities

of a responsible head of state.

Go away! And stay away!

Ramn, clear the whites out!

All of them!

Who'll govern your island, Jos?

Who'll run your industries?

Who'll handle your commerce?

Who'll cure the sick?

Teach in your schools?

This man?

Or that man?

Or the other?

Civilization is not a simple matter, Jos.

You cannot learn its secrets overnight.

Today civilization

belongs to the white man...

and you must learn to use it.

Without it, you cannot go forward.

But to go where, Ingls?

Is better that you, too, go away.

There's Jos!

I need 10 more men at the south barricade.

Pedro, you go with them. Hurry!

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