The Long Arm of the Godfather

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I believe in America.

America has made my fortune.

And I raised my daughter

in the American fashion.

I gave her freedom, but I taught her

never to dishonour her family.

She found a boyfriend, not an Italian.

She went to the movies with him.

She stayed out late.

I didn't protest.

Two months ago he took her for a drive

with another boyfriend.

They made her drink whiskey...

...and then they tried to

take advantage of her.

She resisted, she kept her honour.

So they beat her like an animal.

When I went to the hospital,

her nose was broken...

...her jaw was shattered,

held together by wire.

She couldn't even weep

because of the pain.

But I wept. Why did I weep?

She was the light of my life.

Beautiful girl.

Now she will never be beautiful again.

Sorry.

I went to the police,

like a good American.

These two boys were brought to trial.

The judge sentenced them to three years

in prison, but suspended the sentence.

Suspended the sentence!

They went free that very day!

I stood in the courtroom like a fool.

Those two bastards, they smiled at me.

Then I said to my wife, "For justice,

we must go to Don Corleone. "

Why did you go to the police?

Why didn't you come to me first?

What do you want of me? Tell me

anything, but do what I beg you to do.

What is that?

I want them dead.

That I cannot do.

I'll give you anything you ask.

I've known you many years, but this

is the first time you've asked for help.

I can't remember the last time

you invited me for a cup of coffee.

Even though my wife is godmother

to your only child.

But let's be frank here.

You never wanted my friendship.

And you were afraid to be in my debt.

I didn't want to get into trouble.

I understand.

You found Paradise in America.

You made a good living, had police

protection and there were courts of law.

You didn't need a friend like me.

But now you come to me and say...

"Don Corleone, give me justice. "

But you don't ask with respect.

You don't offer friendship. You don't

even think to call me Godfather.

You come on my daughter's wedding

day and ask me to murder for money.

I ask you for justice.

That is not justice.

Your daughter is alive.

Let them suffer, then, as she suffers.

How much shall I pay you?

Bonasera, Bonasera.

What have I ever done to make you

treat me so disrespectfully?

If you'd come in friendship...

...the scum that ruined your daughter

would be suffering this very day.

And if an honest man like you should

make enemies, they'd be my enemies.

And then they would fear you.

Be my friend?

Godfather?

Good.

Some day, and that day may never

come, I'll ask a service of you.

But until that day...

...accept this justice as a gift

on my daughter's wedding day.

- Grazie, Godfather.

- Prego.

Give this to Clemenza.

I want people that aren't going to

get carried away.

We're not murderers,

in spite of what this undertaker says.

- Where's Michael?

- Don't worry, he'll be here.

We're not taking the picture

without Michael.

- What's the matter?

- It's Michael.

Don Barzini.

Hey, Paulie! Let me have some wine.

Paulie! More wine.

- You look terrific on the floor.

- Are you a dance judge or something?

Take a walk and do your job.

Sandra, watch the kids.

Don't let them run wild.

You watch yourself, all right?

In that little silk purse.

If this were somebody else's wedding...

Sfortunato!

Hey, Paulie!

Stupid jerk!

What's the matter?

- Have to go back to work.

- Tom.

No Sicilian can refuse any request

on his daughter's wedding day.

Don Corleone, I'm honoured and

grateful that you have invited me.

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