As MICHAEL describes her, VITELLI laughed less and less, until he wears a scowl.
VITELLI:
No.
Then he curtly leaves him, and walks into the back room.
FABRIZZIO:
God in Heaven, I think I understand... He goes into the back room after the innkeeper. Then he returns.
FABRIZZIO:
Let's get out of here; he's boiling up his blood to do us mischief.
It's his daughter.
They start to leave; but MICHAEL doesn't move.
CALO:
Come quickly.
MICHAEL:
Innkeeper. More wine!
FABRIZZIO:
(whispered) The old bastard mentioned two sons he only has to whistle up.
MICHAEL turns to FABRIZZIO with his cold authority.
MICHAEL:
Tell him to come to me.
The two BODYGUARDS shoulder their luparas, and disappear in a moment they return with the red-faced angry VITELLI between them.
MICHAEL:
(quietly) I understand I've offended you by talking about your daughter. I offer you my apologies, I'm a stranger in this country, I don't know the customs very well. Let me say this, I meant no disrespect to you or her... CALO and FABRIZZIO are impressed.
VITELLI:
(shrugs) Who are you and what do you want from my daughter?
MICHAEL:
I am an American hiding in Sicily from the police of my country. My name is Michael. You can inform the police and make your fortune but then your daughter would lose a father rather than gain a husband.
In any case, I want to meet your daughter. With your permission and under the supervision of your family. With all decorum. With all respect. I am an honorable man.
CALO and FABRIZZIO are stupefied; VITELLI pauses, and then
asks:
VITELLI:
Are you a friend of the friends?
MICHAEL:
When the proper time comes, I'll tell you everything that a wife's father should know.
FABRIZZIO:
It's the real Thunderbolt, then.
VITELLI:
(formally)
Come Sunday morning:
My name is Vitelli and my house is up there on the hill, above the village.
