I Read

FOSCA:

I hope I didn't startle you

GIORGIO:

Signora Ricci,

I am Captain Ba...

FOSCA:

Bachetti,

I know

My cousin has told me all about you

I came to thank your for the books

I would have sooner,

But I've been so ill

GIORGIO:

Well, now you seem to be feeling more normal

FOSCA:

Normal?

I hardly think so

Sickness is normal to me, as health is to you

Excuse me

I shouldn't speak of my troubles

I have been going through a period of deep melancholy

I so enjoyed the novel by Rousseau

GIORGIO:

Oh, it's wonderful

My favorite, really

FOSCA:

The character of Julie is a great mystery

GIORGIO:

You should have kept the book longer to meditate over

FOSCA:

I do not read to think

I do not read to learn

I do not read to search for truth

I know the truth,

The truth is hardly what I need

I read to dream

I read to live

In other people's lives

I read about the joys,

The world

Dispenses to the fortunate,

And listen for the echoes

I read to live,

To get away from life!

No, captain,

I have no illusions

I recognize the limits of my dreams

I know how painful dreams can be

Unless you know

They're merely dreams

There is a flower

Which offers nectar at the top,

Delicious nectar at the top

And bitter poison underneath

The butterfly that stays too long

And drinks too deep

Is doomed to die

I read to fly,

To skim!

I do not read to swim

I do not dwell on dreams

I know how soon a dream becomes an expectation

How can I have expectations?

Look at me

No, captain

Look at me!

Look at me!

I do not hope for what I cannot have!

I do not cling to things I cannot keep!

The more you cling to things,

The more you love them,

The more the pain you suffer

When they're taken from you...

Ah, but if you have no expectations,

Captain,

You can never have a disappointment

I must be mad to chatter on about myself like this to you

Forgive me

GIORGIO:

I assure you—

FOSCA:

No, forgive me, please...

GIORGIO:

But truly, there is nothing to forgive

FOSCA:

Have you explored the town?

It is remote, isn't it?

And provincial, don't you think?

GIORGIO:

Yes

FOSCA:

And everything so brown:

The streets, the fields,

The river even,

Though there are some lovely gardens

You do like gardens, I hope?

GIORGIO:

Yes

FOSCA:

Good, I can show you gardens

And then of course there is the castle

The ruined castle

GIORGIO:

Ah

FOSCA:

I find it lovely.

Probably because it's ruined,

I suppose

GIORGIO:

I didn't know there was a castle

FOSCA:

I like to take excursions there—

When I'm in better health

Perhaps you join me—

—And my cousin

One day...

GIORGIO:

That would be delightful

I don't believe I've seen a flower or a garden since the day I arrived