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: What does happiness mean to you Camilla? Camilla
: That you can fall in love with whoever you want to, and not feel ashamed of it.
: Take a look in the mirror. Camilla
: I don't want to look in the mirror. Arturo Bandini
: I don't blame you.
: You promise to stop? Camilla
: Cross my heart. Arturo Bandini
: No, swear to God. Camilla
: I swear to God.
: Look at the fog. Arturo Bandini
: An army of ghosts crawling on thier bellies. Camilla
: What are you talking about? Arturo Bandini
: The fogbank. It creeps in and hugs the water.
] Arturo Bandini
: When I was a kid, back in Colorado, it was Smith, Parker and Jones who hurt me with their hideous names. Who called me wop and dago and greaser, and their children hurt me. Just as I hurt you. They hurt me so much, I could never become one of them. Drove me to books, drove me within myself. Drove me to run away from that town in Colorado, into your home and into your life. And sometimes, when I see their faces out here, the same faces, the same sad, hard mouths from my hometown. I'm glad they're here fulfilling the emptiness of their lives and dying in the sun. And they hate me, and my father and my father's father. But they are old and I am young and full of hope. And love for my country and my times.
] Arturo Bandini
: And Camilla, when I said "greaser" to you, it was not my heart that spoke, but the quivering of an old wound. And I am ashamed of the terrible thing I have done.
: So, you pushed your brother's face through the window. Arturo
: [Federico pretends to cry
] Shut up. Federico
: Let someone push your face through the window, see if you don't cry!
[pretends to cry again
: Well? Why, did you push Federico's head through the window? Arturo
: I dunno, I just did it, that's all. Bandini
: And how do you know I won't knock your goddamn block off? Maria Bandini
: Svevo, Svevo, please... Bandini
: What do you want? Maria Bandini
: It was an accident. Boys will be boys. Bandini
: Ah, boys will be boys. That little bastard pushes his brother's head through the window, and boys will be boys. Who's going to pay for the window, huh? Who is going to pay the doctor's bills when he pushes his brother off a cliff? Who is going to pay the lawyer when they send him to jail for murdering his brother? A murderer in the family! Tio mio, help us!
[Federico pretends to cry again
: Look at him, the poor boy! Who is going to pay for his funeral? August
: You would have to pay for the funeral, Dad. I'll do the service. Bandini
: Ah, you will! And did you ever see a priest who wets the bed? Huh?