All language subtitles for The.Bride.Wore.Red.1937.1080p.W.14M.EN2-ac3.en_1

'Make your bets.'

'That's all, no more bets.'

Number 30.

Number three repeats.

Armalia, your luck improves
with every glass of champagne.

And, Rudi the champagne improves
with every roll of the wheel.

Cash those for me.

Place your bets.

- Very superior, waiter.
- Thank you, sir.

Probably, very superior man.

Pity, no one let them know.

Please don't stop
playing for my sake.

As a matter of fact
I happen to be up and gone.

I do nothing for
anyone else's sake.

The last time I did,
I got married.

I mean I could take a taxi home.

No, Rudi, these are not hours
to be wasted in playing.

Into each life, there come
a few nights, such as this night

in which everything
you touch is gold.

Everything you do is right.

Invariably followed the next
morning by a severe headache.

What do I do with my power?

What do I do
with my omnipotence?

Dine anddebate with a
love-sick young aristocrat

whose only thought is
of the model and the Tyrol

and his lovely Maddalena.

You'll admit,
with all that to think of

I've listened very attentively

to your naive
champagne philosophy.

Naive? What's so
naive about it?

You promised we wouldn't
go into it again.

I insist on knowing.

- Sir?
- Well, oh!

- You save money, young man?
- No, sir.

- Support a sick mother?
- No, sir, no one.

Perhaps you're working
your way through school?

- No, sir.
- No ambition of any kind?

- No, sir.
- Good.

Here's a enormous tip
for you, squander it.

- Yes, sir.
- What do you mean, naive?

Well, after all, all that about
life, the great roulette wheel.

Life is a great roulette wheel.

And the human is a little ball,
worthless in himself

bouncing helplessly
from slot to slot.

Where will he aim?
In wealth or poverty.

Is Rudi Pal
the desirable young aristocrat

or...is our friend the waiter?

Your number, my friend
didn't turn up, more champagne.

- And the check.
- Yes, sir.

Now, Rudi Pal and the waiter.

Alike at the start
and now so different.

You'll go on from there
about the one

where all men are created equal.

- Which they are.
- Which they are not.

Do you suppose there's
anything to distinguish you

from that waiter?

Except your clothes and the fact
that you sit while he stands?

There's everything,
the breeding.

Waiters are notoriously better
mannered than those they serve.

Breeding means
more than manners.

Nonsense. Rudi, as a favor
to me, stand up.

Sit down, my friend, sit down.

You're a gentleman
for the time being.

Waiter, pour the
gentleman a drink.

This is not particularly
embarrassing to me.

Think you're being deliberately
cruel to the waiter.

'For the moment he is no waiter,
he's much at home as you or I.'

Oh, no, my friend, you can do
everything but drink.

That would be cruel.
Let's get out of here.

- Rudi, I have an idea.
- No more please.

I'm going home like a good
little roulette ball.

The train for Turin
leaves so early in the morning.

By that time I shall
change a dozen lives.

Lead me till the destitute.

The destitute
sleep after midnight.

Some other time, old man.

Now this very instant take me to
the lowest dive in all Trieste.

The very lowest,
the lowest of the low.

This is a great honor,
Your Excellency.

I hope you will like
my little place.

Everything refined and tasteful.

Is this the lowest, the
most decrepit dump in Trieste?

This is, Your Excellency.

You won't find a more
decrepit bar in the..

- Nothing is decent here.
- Including the champagne.

It's all the matter of luck,
Armalia.

If that champagne had only
bounced into the lucky slot.

Oh, we have
the most beautiful girls.

That is the lowest, most
decrepit creatures in Trieste.

- Perhaps you would enjoy.
- No, thank you.

Why not?
Not a ladylike enough, perhaps.

If I were to take
one of those poor things

have her properly washed,
dressed and coiffured

you couldn't tell her
from your own fiancee.

Fiancee reminds me,
I've really got to go.

Goodbye, Armalia.

Come up to Turin
if you don't think

Maddelena and I are too smug.

And don't get too dizzy on that
great big wheel of life.

Get out of here.

* Let's always sing the praise *

Waiter.

Yes, Your Excellency.

Bring a girl to my table.
Washed if possible.

- Perhaps, you would--
- Surprise me.

Anyone will do,
anyone, the one that's singing.

The one that's singing?

* Who wants love *

* Love is a joy we borrow *

* Pay back in tears tomorrow *

* So who wants love *

* Who wants love *

* Something to fill
your heat with *

* So very soon to part with *

* So who wants love *

* Love is a dream I'm weaving *

* Moonbeams and patterns rare *

* Love is a child believing *

* Stories of castle in the air *

* So who wants love *

* I'll go my way without it *

* I know too much about it *

* Who wants love **

Still good for me,
ain't, duchess?

Much too good.

Well, count is he?

Come to stare at
the animals in the zoo?

Good evening, sir,
would you care to dance

or shall I sing another song,
perhaps an old--

No thank you, let us just be
two human souls in commune.

- Now let's just talk.
- Talk?

Yes. Will you tell me
all about yourself?

Where you were born,
all that sort.

Thank you, I will sit down
since you insist.

My name is Anni Pavlovitch.

Born in Poland, age 25,
mother, Austrian.

And I'm not going to tell you
my father was an aristocrat.

- Didn't surprised me.
- Didn't surprised me either.

- You talk well.
- Oh, yes.

Guess, we breathe and sleep
and are hungry too.

- Very much like human beings.
- Naturally, senora.

Who was you mother,
who was your father?

How did you happen
to become a count?

Proud of you to come here, and
stay and ask me questions.

I know, I'd been told
it's all the matter of luck.

I had the good luck
to be born rich, while you--

I had the bad luck to be born.

You're absolutely right,
it's most unjust.

One is powerless
to protest one's fate.

- Powerless to stop--
- I'm hungry.

I'm sorry. Waiter!

Waiter, bring some hors d'oeuvre
for the lady

best you've got, caviar.

Caviar for the count.

Bring me a dish of stew,
with meat in it.

And remember
put plenty of meat in it.

Are you gonna drink some beer?

Champagne's good enough for me.

Ah, you didn't crook your little
finger, thank you for that.

Where did you learn
such charming manners?

I go to the movies, I watch
the ladies of your world.

Lots of simple and
stupid and artificial.

My world's bad luck that
you weren't born in it.

- Madam?
- Yes, it it.

How would you like a little
holiday, Signorina Anni?

Some of the fine hotels, say,
have servants wait on you?

Plenty of food, sunshine,
beautiful clothes.

I'm not going there so I can
have a red evening dress.

'Yeah, of course,
anything you want.'

I think I'll send you to Turin.

- What's that? A sanatorium?

No, it is a fashionable hotel
in the Tyrol

filled with the ladies and
gentlemen of breeding.

Give me two weeks,
of it, two weeks exactly.

Waiter, give me a pencil.

I'll wire the hotel, the best
room for my little friend.

And Galli, I'm gonna get Galli
for your dresses.

I'd give you the money now

rather than you make off
with it.

How soon can you go?

Take me a week to close my town
house, dismiss the servants.

And change your name to
Anne-Anne, Anne Vivaldi.

The daughter of my very good
friend, Lieutenant Vivaldi.

Uh, naval officer, your mother
lives in genteel poverty

'and you were brought up--'

- In a convent.
- Well.

- In a convent.
- Alright, in a convent.

I'll wire the hotel myself,
and here's a list of shops

and I'll notify them
to take care of you.

And here's a little money
for some tips.

You're-you're sure
you're not joking?

I'm cheating, Anni.
I'm fixing the great wheel.

Fixing it, so that you can
win for a while.

Perhaps Rudi would say,
I'm being miserably cruel.

But I want to know,
I want to know

what makes a waiter, a waiter
and Rudi, Rudi and a you, you.

Or whether you could be a lady.

And remember,
if it turns out badly

don't come and complain to me,
in fact don't come to me at all.

After all,
by tomorrow, the next day

I'll probably be sober again.

Goodbye, Anni and good luck.

Dolores, Consuelo, Felicia.

Bring the articles I've selected
for the Count Armaila's..

Yes, daughter of Count Armalia's
very good friend

Lieutenant Vivaldi.

Of course, is there
anything in particular

the signorina would like?

I should like..

Could I have
the blue coat on the window?

Anything the signorina wishes.

And I shall want
a red evening dress with beads.

Signorina, may I help you?

Yes.

Say, are you the driver
from the hotel?

No, signorina, but my cousin is.

Doesn't the hotel meet
it's guests at the station?

- Usually, yes.
- Oh.

When's the next train
back to Trieste?

The next train for Trieste?

Why Signorina Vivaldi,
you've only just arrived.

How do you know my name?

I read your telegram
for the train.

I read all the telegrams,
going and coming.

You see,
I'm telegraph operator here.

Did you deliver my telegram?

Over two hours ago.
I sent it with my cousin.

Well, the driver from the hotel.

No, another cousin, Pietro,
he's my assistant.

He's very fond of blackberries.
They are in season now.

- How far is the hotel?
- Four kilometers.

You should see the blackberry
fields, signorina.

Like black clouds.

Am I expected to walk
four kilometers?

You may ride to the hotel
with mail and me if you wish.

Do you think I'll ride in that?

Well, I do.

There's a great
difference between us.

- Of course.
- And..

Ladies don't ride in
donkey carts.

It would be unusual, but then

great ladies can do
unusual things.

I'll get your luggage.

Is he dangerous?

Not from that end.

Another one of your cousins
I suppose.

Takes him a minute to
make up his mind.

He's alright after
he gets started.

Where are you going?
Who's gonna drive the donkey?

He knows the road.
I have to sort the mail.

Suppose he runs away.

We'll walk very fast, catch him.

The Archduke of Austria once
rode in this donkey cart.

My father was postmaster then.
I got the position when he died.

My grandfather
was postmaster too.

No wonder the donkey is tired.

It's an important position,
you know?

Sometimes as many as 200 letters
come through here in one day.

Don't you ever think of
getting away from here

to someplace where you can
amount to something?

Well, I do amount to something,
haven't I just told you?

No, I mean, to become rich,
important, respected.

You mean ambitious.

I used to think it would be
wonderful to go to Vienna

Paris, Rome.

'I got older.'

'I see so many people
at the hotel'

'that come form those cities.'

They are so rich
and they are important.

To be happy,
you must be contended.

To be contended, you must
find you place in the world

and stay there.

Suppose you don't like
your place, then what?

Find a place the fits you.
There's one for everybody.

- What was that?
- Car from the hotel.

My cousin, Pietro must have
delivered your telegram.

- Why didn't you stop it?
- How?

Tell me, are these trees
always this beautiful?

No, signorina, yesterday
they were less beautiful

tomorrow they'll be more.

You really believe that?
You've lived here all your life.

Well, when I was very young,
I saw the pine trees in snow.

I wanted to grow like that,
tall and straight, and strong.

And when I was older,
I saw poplar

and the sun, and the laugh.

I wanted to learn
to laugh like that.

Do they never cry,
these trees of yours?

When it rains, they cry into
the mountain streams.

When it stops and the raindrops
shine on the leaves in the sun

that's when they
are most beautiful.

Like a lady's eyes, when they
laugh and cry at the same time.

You are the strangest postman
I've ever met.

Has the signorina
met many postmen?

- Of course not.
- Doesn't matter.

I'd still be the strangest.

- But you think they'd stop?
- We are very near.

You'll see the hotel
any minute now.

You did not meet her
at the station?

Well, I have just returned
from the station

she's not there.

What would happen to my hotel
if I picked up berries, huh?

I have instructions from
Count Armalia to expect her.

I have the telegram
from signorina herself

sent from the train.

I have everything
but the signorina.

- Now she must be somewhere.
- Here she is.

Signorina, a mistake,
a thousand pardons.

I'm surrounded by idiots,
so terrible this should happen.

- That's quite alright.
- You're not angry?

You will forgive me?

I don't wish to discuss it
any further.

Listen to me, Cousin Pietro
and look at me.

Telegrams must be delivered.

But the blackberries,
Cousin Giulio, they are ripe.

I know, cousin, but you should
have picked 'em on the way back.

He'll never do it again.
Thank you very much.

Well, I have my salary
from the government.

Thank you, signorina.

- Good afternoon, Signor Pal.
- Good afternoon, Nobili.

Lovely day, isn't it?

In the north wing,
I have a larger suite.

- No, this will do.
- Oh, thank you, signorina.

Thank you, thank you.

Oh.

Who is it?

Maid, signorina.
May I unpack for you?

Yes, please, come in.

Which dress will the signorina
wear to dinner?

I think I shall wear..

- 'Anni.'
- Maria.

Of all people to run into,
it's you.

What are you doing here?

Anni, it's good
to see you again.

But they told me
your name was Vivaldi.

- Signorina and Vivaldi.
- That's me.

But how?

Anni, you are not
in trouble with the police?

You're not hiding?

Maria, you wouldn't believe
what happened, it's..

It's like those stupid wishes
we used to make

when we had
too much beer, remember?

You used to wish you could find
a purse with 10,000 lira in it.

And I used to wish I could find
a box with a red evening dress

that's just my size
and ready to wear.

It's in there.
Very red and with beads.

But you haven't told me
who and how.

You're talking in riddles.

I'm living in riddles,
I don't know the answer.

But who cares?

For two weeks,
I'm on top of the world.

- For two weeks, I'm a lady.
- And then?

And then, I..

Well, I'll think about it then.

Oh, Maria, tell me.

What brought you from
Cordillera bar to Turin?

I'm happy here, Anni.

I sweep, wash dishes,
scrub floors.

Sometimes I help
as a personal maid.

I work from morning till night.

And for the first time
in my life, I'm truly happy.

- Can you believe that?
- No.

One night at the bar,
I-I looked into a mirror.

I was frightened at what I saw.

How heavy the rouge had become
wrinkles I couldn't hide.

Anni, I saw my finish
in that mirror.

I lied to an agency,
I forged references.

Here I am.

I love it here.

If I had to leave,
I think I'd die.

I know, you want to grow strong
with the poplars

and laugh with the pines,
or is it the way around?

Oh, Maria,
it's so good to have you here.

I've had to be so careful,
so correct.

I feel like a fat woman,
with her corsets off.

Keep on being careful
and correct.

You'll have to watch out.

'The very finest people
stay here.'

They don't come too finer,
too elegant

for Signorina Ann Vivaldi.

I can't help it,
I don't like it, Anni.

I have a feeling someone's
playing a dirty trick on you.

Not on me.
On themselves, maybe.

Lay out my red dress with beads,
I'll wear it to dinner tonight.

Not this red dress.
Not here.

'You might as well wear a sign.'

But when will I wear it?

Perhaps, two weeks from now.

- Signorina Vivaldi?
- Yes.

You've never seen
Armalia like that.

He's going to turn the
whole world upside down.

We were all little roulette ball

and waiters would
become gentlemen

and cabaret girls
countesses and..

And..

I had a night like that once.

I took the pants off of
half the policeman in Trieste.

It seemed to me that, uh..

That, uh..

Upto a moment ago

we were dining with
retired admiral, your father.

And a not completely
retired bachelor, your fiancee.

We are now quite alone.

- Rudi, darling, remember me?
- Oh.

The girl you're engaged to,
Maddelena.

Was here just a moment ago.
Think hard.

Where was I when I was
so rudely interrupted?

What would the signorina wish?

Oh, uh,
something very light, I think.

Brodo caldo, perhaps.

'And then, uh, perhaps,
frittata ponerte.'

I'd like that, yes.

'And then, a salad.'

Yes, a salad.

Thank you, signorina.

Rudi, while we're here,
let's climb to the pines

once in the early morning.

They're supposed to be at their
very best as the sun comes up.

You know,
it's a very funny thing.

And if the sun comes up,
I'm at my very worst.

Darling, in all the years
we've been coming here

and all the time
we've been in love

you've never asked Rudi
to get up at dawn

to see a pine tree.

Please don't start now.

Yes, sir,
it's a very funny thing.

You just said that, admiral.

We're ready
for the next sentence.

I know that, young lady.
I know well.

Then by all means, father,
ask her to coffee with us.

- I'm sure she's very nice.
- Well, of course.

It's a very long time
since we met.

It must be years and years.

She's 21 if she's a day.

Do you doubt my word,
young lady?

Waiter.

Something on which to write.

You see that lady
at the table alone?

By the window.

Signorina Vivaldi?

Of course. Vivaldi.

That was her name.
Vivaldi.

Give her this.

The flag goes up.

Uh, pardon, signorina.
I was to give you this.

The flag comes down.

Would the signorina care
for some hearts of artichokes?

Stuffed egg?

Yes, please.

Some celery?

Work from the outside in,
signorina.

I'm sure the signorina
will enjoy her coffee here.

Is there anything else
I can do for the signorina?

No, thank you.
And thanks for everything.

Good evening, signorina.

Good evening, postman.

Or are you the official
village flute player at night?

No, signorina.

But that is your
grandfather's flute, isn't it?

And his father's before him.

Have you any reason
for making fun of me?

I'm not making fun of you.

Tell me why did the music
go away? I liked it.

The dancing will start soon
in the hotel.

And besides,
they preferred to go away.

Tonight there's
stars and a moon.

And a picnic.

What do you do on a picnic?

The signorina never been to one?

Unh-unh.

We walk in the night air.

In the summer, we swim, in
the winter, we ride in sleighs.

We have a basket of food to eat
when we grow hungry.

Sausage, beer and cheese
on wet grass.

Oh, I shouldn't like that.

Cold chicken and wine.

And when the grass is wet

it smells of the earth,
and the rain.

And you sing and play and..

...make love to your girl?

Are you in love, postman?

'No.'

I'm surprised. Why not?

- 'Too busy perhaps?'
- Is the signorina in love?

That's none of you business.

Exactly, signorina.

It's none of my business.

And why is it
that you feel privileged

to question and examine me
as if I were a three legged cow?

Pardon me
if I have offended you.

No, postman!

'Pardon me, I..'

I-I should have known better.

'Please, signorina.'

You may ask me a question
if you like.

Is the signorina in love?

No.
No, I'm not.

As long as I can remember
there's been a balustrade

between a terrace and a lawn.

I've always imagined
it was to keep those

on the terrace
from falling to the lawn.

Now I realized
it also keeps those

in the lawn
from rising to the terrace.

'Good evening, Giulio.'

Good evening, Signor Pal.

Goodnight, signorina.

Goodnight, postman.

Signorina Vivaldi.

You are the Signorina Vivaldi,
are you not?

Yes?

I've come to apologize to you.

To me? Why?

- The note.
- Oh.

Well, that.

- You shouldn't have done that.
- I didn't.

It was my very good friend,
the retired Admiral Monti.

He imagined
he knew you from somewhere.

From where?

'Oh, please
don't give it a thought.'

The admiral has
all the impetuousness

of a middle age man
with nothing to lose.

Tell him I accept his apology,
and thank you for bringing it.

Permit me.

Oh, I..
Again I apologize.

- I make a very poor waiter.
- Thank you.

I, uh, was also to ask you
to join us to have liqueur.

Thank you, no.

Please don't be angry.

We're really
very pleasant people.

But I don't know you.

I'm not accustomed to sitting
at strange tables on command.

My name is Rudolph Pal.

Counting this, I've apologized
to you three times.

Therefore, I must have
insulted you three times.

We must be
very old friends by now.

Well, at least
we know each other's names.

The peasant music again.

Oh, you'll get used to it.

Like the bullfrogs in the pond

in the back of the hotel.

After a while,
you don't even notice it.

But I want to notice it.
I like their music.

You'll like it at first.

They're, uh,
having a picnic tonight.

Soggy black bread and wet grass.

It smells of rain, and of earth.

It's still wet.

Well, it's fashionable,
I know, to think that

the simple and humble
things in life are best.

They're nothing of the kind.

In my opinion, most people
prefer sardines to caviar

simply because most people
have never tasted caviar.

I think you're right,
Signor Pal.

Everyone calls me Rudi.

The music has started
for dancing.

Please.

The infantry has succeeded
where the navy failed.

She is ours.

May I present Signorina Vivaldi?

'Contessa Di Meina,
Signorina Monti.'

- 'How do you do?'
- How do you do?

How do you do?

The, um, admiral, of course,
you know intimately.

My memory's terribly poor.
Forgive me, admiral.

Why should you remember
an old duffer like me?

And how wonderfully well
you're looking.

I'm feeling much better,
thank you.

I'm completely cured.

Completely cured?

Good. Excellent.

'Won't you sit down, signorina?'

Thank you.

Is this your
first visit to Turin?

Yes, my first in many years.

When I was a little girl,
I came here with my father

and Count Armalia.

Armalia?

Yes, he was
my father's closest friend.

I knew I remembered you.

Why, I used
to dandle you on my knee.

You were little, uh..

Little, uh..

Anne.

Anne! Of course.

Anne Vivaldi, that's your name!

Anne Vivaldi, been on
the tip of my tongue all night.

How cozy.

Tell me,
have you seen Armalia lately?

Yes. I saw him
about a week ago in Trieste.

He recommended Ter.

I was badly in need of a rest.

You said Trieste.
Perhaps we have mutual friends.

Do you know the Reinhardt's?

The Calman's?

No. I'm sorry.

With or without Armalia,
it seems

incredible that we've never met.

Well, there are
so many people in Trieste.

But so few ladies
as lovely as you.

It's good for your conceit,
darling.

- Don't mind him, signorina.
- I don't.

I like him.

Will you dance, Maddelena?

No, thank you.

I'm a little tired tonight.

And you, signorina?

Yes, thank you.

Watch out, Maddelena.

You don't dance
like a debutante.

Really?
And how does a debutante dance?

With stiff knees.

You dance beautifully.

Almost like a professional.

There.

You see, your praise went to my

feet, Signor Pal.

You know,
it's going to sound silly

your calling me Signor Pal..

...while I call you Ann.

I didn't know you were going to.

I forgot to tell you.

Any particular reason
why you're alone?

I want to be.

Well, that's too bad.

What is?

You're not going to have what
you want from now on.

You're not going to be alone
much from now on.

- Maria.
- Huh?

What's a debutante?

- A what?
- A debutante.

They've got stiff knees.

I don't know.

Something to do with society,
I guess.

That's what I thought.

People nodded to me and said

"Good evening, signorina."

all over the place

People I've never seen before
in my life.

'What?'

Nothing.

I'm so tired, I could die.

But it's still better
than carrying half the

merchant marine around
on your feet all night.

Think of it. The night's
just beginning down there.

You think of it.

Tell me, are Sophie and Toni
still fighting

over that night watchman?

Sophie married him.

He broke her jaw
for a wedding present.

Oh...it's wonderful

to live like this.

Listen to how quiet it is.

It's always quiet.

It's always wonderful.

It'll be terrible
when you have to go back.

It would be nice
to live like this forever.

The best thing
that could happen to you.

Maybe I could get you
a job like mine.

Like yours?

You're happy here with your
silly trees and mountains

and your stupid nights
with stars

and wet grass and sardines.

But that's because
you never tasted vintage wine

and danced
to a wonderful orchestra

with a handsome gentleman
who kissed your hand good night.

Anni, have you gone crazy?

Maria, I'm never going back
to the Cordolero bar.

So, that's it.
I knew that would come.

Why shouldn't I stay as I am,
on top with these clothes

these people, this life?

Am I any different from them?

Do I look,
do I act any different?

No, Anni.

But you are.

I'm not, and
I'll prove it to you I'm not.

I don't know how or when,
but I'll prove it to you.

And I'll prove it to them.

Look.

The whole valley's
like a sea of gold.

And there's the lake down there.

It looks like..

...like a little drop of jade.

I had a jade ring once.

- What is it, Anne?
- Oh, nothing. Just stupid.

But something
must have made you cry.

I just thought of something.
That's all.

- Of what?
- Nothing.

Of what, Anne?

Well, I just thought that..

...I'll be gone next week.

And I just thought that
I'll never see the sun again.

- What nonsense.
- Oh!

Please don't look at me, Rudi.

My nose gets so funny
when I cry.

Come on, let's wash
our faces in the brook.

Such a gloomy face.
Have I made you sad, Rudi?

Come, wash your face
in the brook.

It's a magic brook,
it washes away your sadness

and leaves little drops
of happiness all over you.

Some vintage wine perhaps?
Hundreds of years old.

Come and sit beside me, Anne.

What's the matter, Rudi?

I don't know.

Perhaps you've been getting up
too early in the morning.

I know it hasn't been any fun
for you to get up at dawn

to see the sun on the lake,
on the poplars

on the fields, just for my sake.

- You know that isn't so.
- Well, how do I know?

Because I still haven't seen
the lake, or the fields

or the poplars.
I haven't seen the sun, Anne.

I've only seen you.

Oh!

I don't know just what to say.

It must be getting late.

I wonder what's keeping
Maddelena and her father.

Anne..

...I can't make you out.

At the hotel, at tea,
at dinner, or when we dance

you're like everyone else.
More beautiful, perhaps.

More poised, more of a lady.

Thank you, Signor Pal.

On mornings like these,
you're like..

...an animal suddenly set free.

You try to run
in all directions at once.

You're all instinct and emotion.

You cry at a sunrise.

You laugh at some leaves
in the wind.

You're in love with something
on mornings like these.

At last.
I'm a woman of mystery.

You're the most exciting woman
I've ever met.

- Please, Rudi.
- I don't want you to go, Anne.

I don't wanna be here. I don't
wanna be anywhere without you.

You're engaged
to be married to Maddelena.

'Yoo-hoo!'

'Rudi! Anne!'

It's your problem, Rudi.
You will have to face it.

- Woo-hoo!
- Come on down.

I've run ashore here.

I think my anchor is dragging.

Here comes the morning mail.

I never could quite understand

Maddelena's mad passion
for the postman.

It's hardly that, darling.
I think he's charming.

I think the way he distributes
morning mail is delightful.

Quaint to the word,
I think it's stupid

and a little impertinent,
don't you, Anne?

I don't know. I've never
thought about it much.

You see, fortunately,
no one knows where I am

so I never get any letters.

You're just jealous, Rudi.

You do think he's attractive,
don't you, Anne?

I think I agree with Rudi
about his impertinence.

Giulio sometimes forgets
he's just a postman.

'Signor Lacroix.
One thin one.'

Signorina Vivaldi.
A letter for you.

Apparently someone knows
where you are.

- I-I can't imagine.
- Shall I get it for yo--

No, no, I'll get it.
It's much more fun.

Her first letter in ten days.

I'd give my one good eye
to know from whom.

Your first letter, signorina.
I wondered why there were none.

Surely a man like you
must have more important things

to wonder about.

Well, are we ready
for breakfast? I'm starved.

But aren't you
going to read your letter?

Oh, never on an empty stomach.

- It might be important.
- From Armalia?

Oh, it's probably
full of gossip.

Please, do read it, Anne.
What does he have to say?

- Oh, get it over with.
- 'Yes, please do.'

'Anything interesting?'

'Oh, just the usual
Armalia gossip.'

As much of it as he thinks
I ought to know.

He hopes I'm enjoying Turin
and, uh..

Oh, and he wishes to be
remembered to all of you.

And here's a special regards
to you, Rudi

and to the contessa.

How nice, particularly as I've
met Count Armalia exactly twice

and we detest each other
with a glowing hatred.

He couldn't possibly.

Not after
all the wonderful things

I've written to him about you.

Thank you, my dear.

I, uh, think it's my turn
to ask.

- What about breakfast?
- Breakfast.

That's the only intelligent
remark I've heard today.

Come on.

- Coming, Anne?
- In a minute.

Is anything the matter?
Can I help?

No, please go along.
I'll..

I'll be there in a little while.

Come on, Rudi.

'Signorina.'

I couldn't knock, you see.

What do you want?

- Can I help you?
- Help me?

What makes you think
I need help?

Your letter made you
very unhappy.

You didn't wish to discuss it
with your friends

and I thought,
perhaps with someone like me..

You see, very often,
it helps to talk.

Is it part of your duty
to discuss

every letter you deliver?

This has nothing whatever to do

with my duty, signorina.

I have no right even to be here.

'Exactly.'

It was a letter from my very
good friend, Count Armalia.

It was a very amusing letter.
I've read it over and over.

Ten days ago, when you rode from
the station in my donkey cart

you were pleasant and kind.

I thought you were the most
gracious lady I'd ever met.

That night,
as you sat on the terrace..

...I thought I'd never again
see anything so beautiful.

- You're being impertinent.
- Please.

I've talked with you since
every day

and never once
have you been even as pleasant

as the first time.

I seem to...disturb you.

Servants never disturb me.

I'm not a servant,
and you don't treat me

as you would a servant.
Your attitude is--

I'm not aware of any attitude
toward you.

- But I am, signorina--
- Then keep it to yourself.

Take it along to your picnics
under the stars. I've got to go.

I don't go
to the picnics anymore.

Get out of my way.

Ever since that first night..

...I'm not hungry anymore.

My cousins worry about me.

At night,
I stay alone in my house.

My house is small,
but it sits high on the hill.

I have everything there
I'll ever need.

A cow, a garden,
and some chickens.

Even my telegraph station's
there.

It's my private world
on top of this one we all share.

Can you see the lake
in the early morning?

Like a shiny green dress
with little sparkles on it.

- And the valley too?
- And beyond.

The hills behind it.
You'd like my house, signorina.

No. No, postman,
I would not like it.

I'm used to so much more.

'Anni? Anni?'

Where are you?

Oh, forgive me, signorina.
I, I thought I..

I thought I.. I was looking
for Anni, the chambermaid.

- Is she crazy?
- She must be.

There's no chambermaid
named Anni.

I see.

Thank you for all
your information, postman.

Oh, not at all, signorina.

If you'd wanted to,
you could have left at any time.

The arbor's open at both ends.

You idiot!

They're waiting breakfast
for you.

How did I know I'd find you
messing around with the postman?

Oh, you've got
such a beautiful, clean mind.

My dearie, I know
you must have been

discussing
your stamp collection.

After all
that wonderful work on Rudi Pal

she takes up with a dolt
that rides in a donkey cart.

I haven't taken up with him.
He doesn't mean that to me.

Maybe he's teaching you
the telegraph code.

And don't you worry
about Rudi Pal.

- That's gonna be alright.
- It better be soon.

You've got less than a week.

I may need more time.
I may stay on a little longer.

'How? You've got no money.'

If I've got to stay,
I'll stay somehow.

He's got a beautiful yacht
anchored at Trieste, Maria.

You know, I wouldn't mind
sailing past the waterfront

on my yacht...
on my honeymoon.

- Good morning, Alberto.
- Good morning, signorina.

- Feeling better?
- Much better, thank you.

- Nothing serious, I hope.
- Unfortunately not.

The usual, signorina?

Yes, Alberto.
The usual, please.

We were just talking
about the festa, Anne.

Maddelena's in an uproar
about her costume.

It's a wonderful affair,
all the peasants from miles

around will be there,
and we dress just like them.

Even father wears
his Tyrolean outfit.

I-it's great for my gout.

And everyone drinks
too much new wine

and makes too much love
to the wrong people.

It's the most romantic night
of the year.

What a pity
you're leaving just before it.

Anne, darling,
you can't miss the festa.

Oh, it does sound like fun

and I've an important engagement
in Trieste

but if you'd all like me
to stay..

...I think it can be arranged.

Well, it's certainly
simple and modest enough.

Maybe a little bit too much so.

That ought to make it more
attractive, don't you think?

Oh, no, signorina.
That would spoil the dress.

I suppose
none of your peasant girls

ever wear
their dresses like this.

Oh, some of them do.

Oh!

Well, I want mine that way too.