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ÀÛ¼ºÀÏ : 20-10-09 11:33
·Î¸¶ÀÇ ÈÞÀÏ ¿µ.ÇÑ ´ëº»
 ±Û¾´ÀÌ : gaiakingdum
Á¶È¸ : 19,883   Ãßõ : 0  
A newsreel begins: PARAMOUNT NEWS
 
NEWS FLASH: A commentator describes the newsreel showing Princess Ann at several ceremonies in various European locations.
 
NEWSREEL: Paramount News brings you a special coverage of Princess Ann's visit to London, the first stop on her much publicised goodwill tour of European capitals. She gets a royal welcome from the British as thousands cheer the gracious young member of one of Europe's oldest ruling families. After three days of continuous activity and a visit to Buckingham Palace, Ann flew to Amsterdam where Her Royal Highness dedicated the new International Aid
Building and christened an ocean liner. Then went to Paris where she attended many official functions designed to cement trade relations between her country and the Western European nations. And so to Rome, the eternal city, where the Princess' visit was marked by a spectacular military parade highlighted by the band of the crack Piersa Yeri Regiment. The smiling young Princess showed no sign of the strain of the week's continuous public appearances. And at her country's embassy that evening, a formal reception and ball in her honor was given by her country's ambassador to Italy.
ÆĶ󸶿îÆ® ´º½º ¾Ø°øÁÖÀÇ ·±´ø ¹æ¹®À» ÀüÇÕ´Ï´Ù, À¯·´ °¢±¹ÀÇ °ø½Ä ¿©ÇàÁö Áߠù¹ø° µµÂøÁöÀÔ´Ï´Ù. À¯·´ Áö¹è°¡¹®ÀÇ ÀÏ¿øÀÓ¿¡ ¿µ±¹ÀεéÀǠȯȣ¸¦ ¹Þ¾Ò°í, 3ÀÏ°£ÀÇ È°µ¿ÈÄ ±ÃÀ» ¹æ¹®ÇϽðí, ¾Ï½ºÅ׸£´ã¿¡¼­´Â ±¹Á¦º¸È£ºôµù °³°ü ¹× Äè¼Ó¼±À» ¸í¸íÇß½À´Ï´Ù. Æĸ®¿¡¼­´Â ¿©·¯ °ø½ÄÇà»ç¿¡ Âü¿©ÇÏ¿© ¼­À¯·´ ±¹°¡¿ÍÀÇ ¹«¿ª°ü°è¸¦ ±»Çû½À´Ï´Ù. ¿µ¿øÀÇ µµ½Ã ·Î¸¶¿¡¼­´Â ±º´ëÇàÁø°ú ¿¬´ë ¹êµå¿¡ °¨¸íÀ» ¹Þ¾Ò½À´Ï´Ù. ¸îÁÖ°£ÀÇ °ø½ÄÇà»ç¿¡µµ ÇÇ·ÎÇÑ ±â»öÇϳª ¾øÀ¸½Ê´Ï´Ù. º»±¹ ´ë»ç°ü ÁÖÃÖ, °ø½Ä ¸®¼Á¼Ç°ú ¹«µµÈ¸µµ ÀÖ¾ú½À´Ï´Ù.
 
The Embassy ballroom. People fill the floor of the room. A fanfare sounds. The Master of Ceremonies appears and the people clear a path down the middle of the hall in front of him. The Master of Ceremonies announces "Her Royal Highness"-first in Italian, then in English. The orchestra starts playing as the Master of Ceremonies walks down the newly-formed aisle. Princess Ann, resplendent in her ballgown, diamond tiara, and necklace, appears at the door accompanied by the Ambassador in formal military dress. Behind them follow together the Countess Vereberg and General Provno, and others. As the company walks slowly down the aisle, Princess Ann smiles and nods her head to acknowledge the guests who line their path. They bow as the Princess walks past them. As they reach the front, the Princess and the others step onto the dais as the orchestra finishes playing. The dais is furnished with chairs-a large one in the center. The Princess and the others stand, facing the guests. Princess Ann is about to sit when the Ambassador discreetly stops her with a hand on her arm. As they stand waiting, the guests form in a line in front. The Master of Ceremonies announces them as they walk forward to greet her, in turn.
   
 
MASTER OF CEREMONIES: His Excellency, the Papal Nuntius, Monsignor Altomonto.
±³È² ´ë»ç ¾ËÆ®¸óÆ®À̽ʴϴÙ.
 
Ann greets him warmly in Italian, shaking his hand; he replies, in Italian.
AnnÀº ¼ÕÀ» Èçµé¸é¼­ ÀÌÅ»¸®¾Æ¾î·Î ±×¸¦ µû¶æÇÏ°Ô ¸ÂÀÌÇÕ´Ï´Ù. ±×´Â ÀÌÅ»¸®¾Æ¾î·Î ´ë´äÇÕ´Ï´Ù.
 
MASTER OF CEREMONIES: Sir Hugo Macy de Farmington.
ÈÞ°í ÆĹÖÅÏ °æÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN: [he bows to her] Good evening, Sir Hugo.
¾È³çÇϼ¼¿ä, ÈÞ±³°æ.
 
SIR HUGO: [shaking her hand] Good evening, Your Royal Highness.
¾È³çÇϽʴϱî, °øÁÖ´Ô.
 
MASTER OF CEREMONIES: His Highness, The Maharajah of Kalipur; and The Rajkumari.
¸¶Ç϶óÀÚ¿Í ¶óÀÌÄí¾Æ¸® È¸±³ ±ºÁÖ ºÎºÎÀ̽ʴϴÙ.
 
ANN: [shaking the Rajkumari's hand] I'm so glad that you could come.
¿ÍÁּż­ ±â»µ¿ä.
 
THE RAJKUMARI: Thank you.
°¨»çÇÕ´Ï´Ù.
 
THE MAHARAJA: [shaking Ann's hand] Thank you, madame.
°¨»çÇÕ´Ï´Ù.
 
[The Master of Ceremonies announes the next couple, in German].
 
ANN: [hidden beneath her dress, she takes her right foot out of its shoe and stretches it]
Guten aben.
¹Ý°¡¿ö¿ä.
 
MASTER OF CEREMONIES: [as Ann puts her foot back] Prince Istvan Barossy Nagyavaros.
³ª°¡¾ß¹Ù·Î½º ¿ÕÀÚ´Ô.
 
ANN: How do you do? [he kisses her hand]
¾È³çÇϼ¼¿ä?
 
The Master of Ceremonies announces the long German name and title of the next guest.
 
ANN: [holding the woman's hand as she curtsies] Guten aben. [She greets the man as he kisses her hand].
¹Ý°¡¿ö¿ä.
 
The Master of Ceremonies announces the next couple. As she greets them, Ann rubs her tired right foot against her leg.
 
Much later on and Ann is still greeting the guests.
 
ANN: [greeting another couple] So happy.
¹Ý°¡¿ö¿ä.
 
MASTER OF CEREMONIES: The Count and Countess von Marstrand.
º» ¸¶½ºÆ®·Ð ¹éÀۺκÎ.
 
ANN: Good evening, Countess. [holding her hand the woman curtsies. To the Count] Good evening.
¾È³çÇϼ¼¿ä? ¾È³çÇϼ¼¿ä?
 
COUNT: [kissing her hand] Good evening.
¾È³çÇϼ¼¿ä?
 
[Suddenly, Princess Ann loses her balance as her foot slips over her shoe, knocking it over. The Count's eyeglass pops out in surprise and he smiles back as she regathers herself. The Ambassador looks down in disappointment at her error. The Master of Ceremonies introduces the next couple-a Senor and Senora].
 
ANN: [she tries to manipulate her shoe back into position which has been knocked over and she greets the couple, disguising her discomfort] Good evening. [the man kisses her hand].
¾È³çÇϼ¼¿ä?
 
The Master of Ceremonies announces the next guest as Ann pushes her shoe again in an effort to right it.
 
ANN: [as the man bends, gesturing with his hand in greeting] How do you do?
¾È³çÇϼ¼¿ä?
 
As the last guest moves back Ann looks around anxiously, trying again to right her shoe, resulting in her pushing it further away. The Ambassador then motions her to sit down. As she sits back into the chair with the Ambassador and the Countess on either side her dress pulls back, revealing the shoe. The orchestra starts playing a waltz. Ann tries as inconspicuously as possible to drag her shoe back with her foot. The General, standing behind her frowning, motions to the Countess to look at the shoe. She looks down at it and closes her eyes in horror. The Princess stirs in her seat trying to get her shoe back, fiddling with her gloves as cover. A man standing behind the Ambassador motions to him and he shrugs and gets up, bowing and presenting his arm to the Princess. The Princess rises and, pausing for time to regather her shoe, is lead onto the ballroom floor by the Ambassador. Taking her up to dance he looks at the area in front of the eat and, relieved that the shoe isn't to be seen, continues dancing with her as the other guests watch.
¸¶Áö¸· ¼Õ´ÔÀÌ µÚ·Î ¹°·¯³ª ÀÚ AnnÀº ±Ù½É½º·´°Ô ÁÖÀ§¸¦ µÑ·¯ º¸¸ç ´Ù½Ã ½Å¹ßÀ» ¹Ù·Î ÀâÀ¸·Á°í ³ë·ÂÇϸ鼭 ½Å¹ßÀ» ´õ ¸Ö¸® ¹Ð¾ú½À´Ï´Ù. ´ë»ç´Â ±×³à¿¡°Ô ¾ÉÀ¸¶ó°í ¼ÕÁþÇÕ´Ï´Ù. ±×³à°¡ ´ë»ç¿Í ¹éÀÛ ºÎÀΰú ÇÔ²² ÀÇÀÚ¿¡ ¾ÉÀÚ ±×³àÀÇ µå·¹½º°¡ µÚ·Î ´ç°Ü ½Å¹ßÀÌ µå·¯³³´Ï´Ù. ¿ÀÄɽºÆ®¶ó°¡ ¿ÐÃ÷¸¦ ¿¬ÁÖÇϱ⠽ÃÀÛÇÕ´Ï´Ù. AnnÀº °¡´ÉÇÑ ÇÑ ´«¿¡ ¶çÁö ¾Ê°Ô ¹ß·Î ½Å¹ßÀ» ´Ù½Ã ²ø·Á°íÇÕ´Ï´Ù. À屺Àº Âô±×¸° ¾ó±¼ µÚ¿¡ ¼­¼­ ¹éÀÛ ºÎÀο¡°Ô ½Å¹ßÀ» º¸¶ó°í ¼ÕÁþÇÕ´Ï´Ù. ±×³à´Â ±×°ÍÀ» ³»·Á´Ùº¸°í °øÆ÷¿¡ Áú·Á ´«À» °¨´Â´Ù. °øÁÖ´Â ±×³àÀÇ ½Å¹ßÀ» µÇ ãÀ¸·Á°í Á¼®¿¡¼­ µÚÈçµé°í Àå°©À» µ¤°í ¸¸ÁöÀÛ °Å¸®°íÀÖ´Ù. ´ë»ç µÚ¿¡ ¼­ÀÖ´Â ÇÑ ³²ÀÚ°¡ ±×¿¡°Ô ¼ÕÀ» »¸°í´Â ¾î±ú¸¦ À¸¾³ÇÏ°í ÀϾ¼­ °øÁÖ¿¡°Ô ÀýÀ»ÇÏ°í ÆÈÀ» ³»¹Ó´Ï´Ù. °øÁÖ°¡ ÀϾ ½Å¹ßÀ» ´Ù½Ã Áý¾î µé±â À§ÇØ Àá½Ã ¸ØÃç¼­ ´ë»ç°¡ ¿¬È¸ÀåÀ¸·Î ¾È³»ÇÕ´Ï´Ù. ÃãÀ» Ãß±â À§ÇØ ±×³à¸¦ µ¥¸®°í ±×´Â ½Ä´ç ¾Õ Áö¿ªÀ» ¹Ù¶óº¸°í ½Å¹ßÀÌ º¸ÀÌÁö ¾Ê´Â´Ù´Â °ÍÀ» ¾Èµµ°¨À¸·Î ´Ù¸¥ ¼Õ´ÔµéÀÌ º¸´Â µ¿¾È ±×³à¿Í °è¼Ó ÃãÀ» Ãä´Ï ´Ù.
 
Later on and the dance floor is filled people. Princess Ann dances with a short, lively gentleman who rattles off rapid Spanish phrases to her. She listens, nodding and smiling politely. Still later and she dances with a short, elderly gentlemen. They smile and nod to each other silently. Later again and Ann dances with a somewhat remote gentlemen. She almost speaks so as to strike up a conversation, but thinks better of it.
 ³ªÁß¿¡ ´í½º Ç÷ξî´Â »ç¶÷µé·Î °¡µæ Â÷ ÀÖ½À´Ï´Ù. ¾Ø °øÁִ ª°í È°±âÂù ½Å»ç¿Í ÃãÀ» Ãä´Ï ´Ù. ±×³à´Â °æûÇÏ°í °í°³¸¦ ²ô´öÀÌ°í Á¤ÁßÇÏ°Ô ¿ô½À´Ï´Ù. ³ªÁß¿¡ ±×³à´Â ª°í ³ªÀÌ ¸¹Àº ½Å»ç ºÐµé°ú ÃãÀ» Ãä´Ï ´Ù. ±×µéÀº ¹Ì¼Ò¸¦ ÁöÀ¸¸ç Á¶¿ëÈ÷ ¼­·Î °í°³¸¦ ²ô´öÀδÙ. ³ªÁß¿¡ ´Ù½Ã ¾ØÀº ´Ù¼Ò ¿Üµý ½Å»çµé°ú ÃãÀ» Ãä´Ï ´Ù. ±×³à´Â ´ëÈ­¸¦ ½ÃÀÛÇϱâ À§ÇØ °ÅÀÇ ¸»ÇÏÁö¸¸ ´õ Àß »ý°¢ÇÕ´Ï´Ù.
 
Later that night in Princess Ann's bedchamber. She stands on her bed dressed in her nightgown, her hair let down. She picks up the skirt of her nightgown and drops it.
±×³¯ ¹ã ¾Ø °øÁÖÀÇ Ä§½Ç¿¡¼­. ±×³à´Â Àá¿ÊÀ» ÀÔ°í ħ´ë¿¡ ¼­¼­ ¸Ó¸®Ä«¶ôÀ» Èê·È´Ù. ±×³à´Â Àá¿ÊÀÇ Ä¡¸¶¸¦ Áý¾î ¶³¾î ¶ß¸°´Ù.
 
ANN: [brushing her hair] I hate this nightgown. I hate all my nightgowns. And I hate all my underwear too.
ÀÌ Àá¿ÊÀº ½È¾î. ³» Àá¿ÊÀº ´Ù ½È¾î. ¼Ó¿Êµµ º¸±â ½È±¸.
 
COUNTESS: [coming over to tend to her bed, dressed in a bedrobe and wearing glasses] My dear, you have lovely things.
´Ù À̻۵¥¿ä.
 
ANN: But I'm not two hundred years old! [Dropping down on the bed] Why can't I sleep in pyjamas?
³­ À̹é»ìÀÌ ¾Æ´ÏÀݾÆ. ÆÄÀÚ¸¶ ÀÔ°í Àڸ頾ȵÅ?
 
COUNTESS: [looking up as she folds the sheets into place] Pyjamas!
ÆÄÀÚ¸¶¿ä?
 
ANN: Just the top half. [The Countess takes off her glasses, shocked, then walks over to the window. Ann pulls the covers over her, sitting up] Did you know there are people who sleep with absolutely nothing on at all?
À­µµ¸®¸¸!
¾Æ¹«°Íµµ ¾ÈÀÔ°í Àڴ »ç¶÷ÀÌ Àִٴ °Å ¾Ë¾Æ?
 
COUNTESS: [opening the window] I rejoice to say that I did not.
¸ð¸£´Â°Ô ´ÙÇàÀ̱º¿ä.
 
ANN: [lying against the headboard, smiling as she hears distant music coming in through the window] Listen. [She jumps up out of bed and runs over to the window, looking out].
µé¾îºÁ!
 
COUNTESS: Oh, and your slippers. [She goes to fetch them from beside the bed as Ann looks out with pleasure at the dancing going on far below in the distance] Please put on your slippers and come away at the window. [Ann walks back to the bed, dejected, as the Countess shuts the window. The Countess holds a tray] Your milk and crackers.
½½¸®ÆÛ ½ÅÀ¸¼¼¿ä.
½½¸®ÆÛ ½ÅÀ¸½Ã°í Ã¢¹®¿¡¼­ ¹°·¯³ª¼¼¿ä.
¿ìÀ¯¿Í Å©·¡Ä¿ÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN: [taking the tray; as the Countess helps her pull the covers over her] Everything we do is so wholesome.
³Ê¹« °Ç°­¿¡ ÁÁÀº°Íµé »ÓÀÌÁö.
 
COUNTESS: They'll help you to sleep.
ÀÌÁ¦ ÁÖ¹«¼¼¿ä.
 
ANN: [stubbornly] I'm too tired to sleep-can't sleep a wink.
³Ê¹« ÇÇ°ïÇؼ­ ¸øÀÚ°Ú¾î, ÇѼûµµ ¸øÀÚ°Ú´Ù.
 
COUNTESS: [putting on her glasses, taking a diary from the bedtable] Now my dear, if you don't mind: tomorrow's schedule-or schedule, whichever you prefer-both are correct. [Running through the items with a pen] Eight thirty, breakfast here with the Embassy staff; nine o'clock, we leave for the Polinory Automotive Works where you'll be presented with a small car.
³»ÀÏÀÇ ½ºÄÉÁìÀÔ´Ï´Ù, ÁÁÀº °É °í¸£¼¼¿ä. 8:30, ´ë»ç°ü Á÷¿ø°ú ¾Æħ½Ä»ç, 9:00, Æú¸®³ª¸® ÀÚµ¿Â÷ °øÀåÀ¸·Î Ãâ¹ß.
 
 
ANN: [disinterested; absently playing with a napkin] Thank you.
°í¸¿±º¿ä.
 
COUNTESS: Which you will not accept.
¾î¶² °É ¾ÈÇϽðڽÀ´Ï±î?
 
ANN: No, thank you.
µÆ¾î¿ä.
 
COUNTESS: Ten thirty-five, inspection of food and agricultural organisation will present you with an olive tree.
10:35, ½Ä·® ¹× ³ó¾÷±â±¸ ½ÃÂû.
 
ANN: No, thank you.
½È¾î¿ä.
 
COUNTESS: Which you will accept.
¾î¶² °É ÇϽǰ̴ϱî?
 
ANN: Thank you.
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
COUNTESS: Ten fifty-five, the Newfoundling Home For Orphans. You will preside over the laying of the cornerstone; same speech as last Monday.
10:55ºÐ¿¡ ½ÅÃà °í¾Æ¿ø¿¡¼­ Áö³­ ¿ù¿äÀÏ°ú °°Àº ¿¬¼³·Î Á¤ÃʽÄÀ» ÁÖ°üÇϼžߠÇÕ´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN: Trade relations?
¹«¿ª°ü°è?
 
COUNTESS: Yes.
³×.
 
ANN: [chewing a cracker] For the orphans?
°í¾Æ¿ø¿¡¼­?
 
COUNTESS: No, no, the other one.
¾Æ.. ¾Æ´Ï, ´Ù¸¥°Å¿ä.
 
ANN: 'Youth and progress'.
ûÃá°ú Áøº¸.
 
COUNTESS: Precisely. Eleven forty-five, back here to rest. No, that's wrong... eleven forty-five, conference here with the press.
¶Ç.. 11:45ºÐ, ÈÞ½Ä. ¾Æ´Ï. ±âÀÚȸ°ßÀ̷২ä, ¿©±â¼­.
 
ANN: 'Sweetness and decency' [she rolls her eyes].
ºÎµå·´°í ¿ì¾ÆÇÏ°Ô.
 
COUNTESS: one o'clock sharp, lunch with the Foreign Ministry. You will wear your white lace and carry a small bouquet of (& ANN) very small pink roses. [The Countess looks up, unimpressed. Continuing, as Ann drinks her milk from a glass] Three-o five, presentation of a plaque. (ANN: [to an imagined guest] Thank you.) Four-ten, review special guard of Police. (ANN: No, thank you.) Four forty-five (ANN: How do you do?) back here (ANN: [becoming distressed] Charmed.) to change to your uniform (ANN: So happy.) to meet the international?
1½Ã¿¡ ¿Ü¹«Àå°ü°ú ¿ÀÂù. Èò µå·¹½º¿¡ ºÐÈ« Àå¹Ì¸¦.
3:05ºÐ, ÇöÆÇ ±âÁõ. (ÁÁ¾Æ¿ä.)
4:10ºÐ¿¡ ±âÃѺ´´ëÀÇ »ç¿­½Ä. (½È¾î¿ä.)
4:45ºÐ¿¡ ´Ù½Ã¿Í¼­. (¹»Çϳª¿ä?)
(³¡³»Áִ±º.)
 
ANN: [screaming at the Countess] STOP!!! [Looking away, her hair covering her face] Please stop! stop...!
±×¸¸!
 
COUNTESS: [retrieving the tray] It's alright, dear, it didn't spill [she places the tray on the table].
±¦Âú¾Æ¿ä, ¾È ½ñ¾ÆÁ³±º¿ä.
 
ANN: I don't care if it's spilled or not. I don't care if I [throws her head into the pillow] drown in it!
½ñ¾ÆÁö´øÁö ¸»´øÁö. »ó°ü¾ÈÇØ¿ä!
 
COUNTESS: [putting her hands on her shoulders to comfort her] My dear, you're ill. I'll send for Doctor Bonnachoven.
ÀÌ·±, ÆíÂúÀ¸½Ã±º¿ä. ¹Ù³ëÅ©È£º¥ Àǻ縦 ºÎ¸£Áö¿ä.
 
ANN: [turning over, facing the opposite way] I don't want Doctor Bonnachoven; please let me die in peace!
ÀÇ»ç´Â ÇÊ¿ä¾ø¾î. Á¦¹ß ÆòÈ­·Ó°Ô Á×°Ô ³öµÖ.
 
COUNTESS: You're not dying.
¾ÈµÅ¿ä.
 
ANN: [facing the Countess] Leave me. [Sitting up, shouting at her] Leave me!
³öµÖ! ³öµÎ¶ó±¸.
 
COUNTESS: It's nerves; control yourself Ann.
½Å°æ¼ºÀÌ¿¡¿ä. Á» ÀÚÁ¦Çϼ¼¿ä.
 
ANN: [throwing herself on the pillow, beating it with her fist] I don't want to!
½È¾î.
 
COUNTESS: [standing up straight, speaking with authority] Your Highness [Ann continues blubbing]. I'll get Doctor Bonnachoven [she heads for the door].
°øÁÖ´Ô. ¹Ù³ëÅ©È£º¥ ¹Ú»ç¸¦ µ¥·Á¿Ã°Ô¿ä.
 
ANN: [looking up as she leaves] It's no use; I'll be dead before he gets here [she gives a defiant blub].
¼Ò¿ë¾ø¾î, ¿À±âµµ Àü¿¡ Á×¾î¹ö¸±²¨¾ß.
 
Later, the Countess enters the bedchamber, followed by Doctor Bonnachoven and the General. They walk to her bed and the doctor looks at Ann, who doesn't move.
 
DOCTOR: [to the Countess, puzzled] She is asleep.
Àáµå¼Ì±º¿ä.
 
COUNTESS: She was in hysterics three minutes ago, Doctor.
3ºÐÀü¿¡ È÷½ºÅ׸®°¡ ÀÖ¾ú¾î¿ä.
 
DOCTOR: [he puts his Doctor's bag on the table and bends over to her; quietly] Are you asleep, ma'am?
ÁÖ¹«½Ê´Ï±î?
 
ANN: [without moving] No!
¾Æ´¢.
 
DOCTOR: Oh. [He feels her forehead then takes a thermometer from his bag] I'll only disturb Your Royal Highness a moment, ah?
Àá½Ã ¹æÇØ Á» ÇÏ°Ú½À´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN: I'm very ashamed, Doctor Bonnachoven; I- [the Doctor places the thermometer in her mouth] suddenly I was crying.
Á¤¸» ºÎ²ô·¯¿ö¿ä, ¹Ú»ç´Ô. °©Àڱ⠿ï°í ½Í¾ú¾î¿ä.
   
 
DOCTOR: [reassuring] To cry-a perfectly normal thing to do.
¿î´Ù´Â°Ç Áö±ØÈ÷ Á¤»óÀûÀΠ°Ì´Ï´Ù.
 
* reassuring-¾È½É½ÃÅ°´Â, ±â¿îÀ» µ¸¿ì°Ô[¸¶À½ µçµçÇÏ°Ô] Çϴ À§¾ÈÀ» ÁÖ´Â.
 
GENERAL: It most important she be calm and relaxed for the press conference, Doctor.
±âÀÚȸ°ßÀ» ÇϽǷÁ¸é ÁøÁ¤ÇÏ½Ã°í ½¬°Ô Çϼžß..
 
ANN: Don't worry, Doctor: I- [takes the thermometer out] I'll be calm and relaxed and I-I'll bow and I'll smile and- I'll improve trade relations and I, and I will... [she throws herself onto the pillow, in hysterics again].
°ÆÁ¤¸»¾Æ¿ä. Àß ÁøÁ¤ÇÏ°í ÀλçÇÏ°í ¿ô¾îÁÙÅ×´Ï... ¹«¿ª°ü°è¸¦ Çâ»ó½ÃÄѾß...
 
COUNTESS: There she goes again. Give her something, Doctor, please.
¶Ç ±×·¯½Ã³×. ¹¹¶óµµ Á» µå¸®¼¼¿ä. ¹Ú»ç´Ô.
 
DOCTOR: [holding up a syringe from the bag] Uncover her arm, please, hmm?
ÆÈÀ» °È¾î¿ä.
 
The Countess uncovers her arm as the General looks away.
 
ANN: [calming down; without looking up] What's that?
¹¹¿¹¿ä?
 
DOCTOR: Sleep and calm. This will relax you and make Your Highness feel a little happy. It's a new drug, quite harmless. [As he injects her the General faints behind them, unnoticed] There.
¼ö¸éÁ¦¿Í ÁøÁ¤Á¦. ±âºÐÀÌ ³ª¾ÆÁö½Ç°Ì´Ï´Ù. ÀüÇô ÇØ°¡ ¾ø´Â ½Å¾àÀÌÁÒ.
µÆ½À´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN: I don't feel any different.
±âºÐÀÌ ´Þ¶óÁöÁö ¾Ê´Âµ¥.
 
DOCTOR: You will; it may take a little time to take hold. Just now, lie back, ah?
±×·¯½Ç°Ì´Ï´Ù, ½Ã°£ÀÌ Á» °É¸®°Åµç¿ä. ÀÚ, ´©¿ì¼¼¿ä.
 
ANN: Can I keep just one light on?
ÁÁ¾Æ¿ä, ºÒÀº Äѳöµµ µÇÁÒ?
 
DOCTOR: Of course. Best thing I know is to do exactly what you wish for a while.
¹°·ÐÀÔ´Ï´Ù. ÃÖ¼±Ã¥Àº Àá½Ã¶óµµ ÇÏ°í ½ÍÀº °É Çϴ °Å´Ï±î¿ä.
 
ANN: [smiling] Thank you, Doctor.
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
COUNTESS: [the Countess looks round at the General on the floor] Oh, the General! Doctor, quick!
À屺´Ô, ¹Ú»ç´Ô, ¾î¼­¿ä!
 
DOCTOR: Oh!
 
ANN: [sitting up] Hah! [she puts her hand over her mouth, covering her smile].
 
GENERAL: [embarrassed; straightening his bedrobe] I'm perfectly alright. [To the Princess] Goodnight, ma'am. [He bows and leaves].
Àü ±¦Âú½À´Ï´Ù. ¾È³çÈ÷ ÁÖ¹«¼¼¿ä.
 
DOCTOR: [bowing, smiling at the Princess] Goodnight, ma'am.
¾È³çÈ÷ ÁÖ¹«¼¼¿ä.
 
ANN: Goodnight, Doctor.
¾È³çÈ÷ ÁÖ¹«¼¼¿ä.
 
The Doctor leaves, followed by the Countess, who turns off the light and, looking back at the Princess, shuts the door behind her. Alone, the Princess looks around the large room at the lavish, ancient ornamentation on the ceiling and the huge sculpted headboard. She lies back, and then, remembering, eagerly climbs out of bed and runs to the window. She looks out longingly at the dancing below, the breeze blowing in her face then out over the city, the buildings lit up in the night far in the distance. Thinking, she looks back at the door and then back out the window, then she runs to her wardrobe, and starts rummaging in the clothes hung there.
 
 
Later, dressed in a plain white blouse and skirt and picking up her gloves from the dresser, she peers out the door of the bedchambers. She sees a guard sat at the end of the wall stir in his semi-sleep. Pausing as she closes the door, she goes out of the side
window onto the balcony outside. She walks along to the edge of the adjacent balcony, jumping down with a slight noise onto the ground. Glancing furtively around she goes inside to a large, empty room. She pauses for moment to look around on either side and then continues. Going through the door she finds herself on a corridor upstairs, encircling the large central area. She runs along to the end, turning the corner and then onto the other side. She continues on, reaches a staircase and goes down it towards the exit.
 
Outside, still in the grounds of the Embassy, she runs along a courtyard area. The shadow of a man walking appears where she has just come from but she reaches safety at the other end before he can see her. Running through the buildings further she pauses, her back against a wall. Looking round the corner she sees a man jump out of a small supply truck. While he is gone she runs over and quietly hops into the back of the truck. The man comes back and throws a couple of bags into the back where she is hiding. He then gets in, starts the motor, and drives off. Guards at the entrace of the Embassy grounds open the doors and the little truck drives out. Ann peers back over the top of a bag to see the guards closing the doors again as the Embassy recede into the distance. She looks round with delight, moving the bag out of the way, leaning her arm on some goods to see out the back better. She watches the truck go past a sidewalk cafe, busy with people, then waves to a couple driving behind on a scooter; the woman waves back at her. The goods rattle in the back as the truck bounces around, and Ann rests on a box, closing her eyes. The truck continues through the city but Ann is awakened when the truck stops for a couple walking across the street in front. As it is stopped she hops out, running to the footpath as the truck screeches away. She leans against a tree, yawning then continues on.
 
 
Crossing a street, she walks straight across the passenger cabin of a horse-drawn carriage parked alongside the pavement, to the bewilderment of the passengers and driver. The cab drives away as Ann continues on. A light pours from the window of a room on the second floor of the building the carriage was parked in front of...
 
Inside the room are sat Joe Bradley, Irving Radovich, and several other men around a poker table.
 
CARD PLAYER 1: Bet five hundred.
5¹é °Å½ÃÁÒ.
 
JOE: [placing his bet down, firmly] Five hundred. How many?
5¹é! ¸î°³¾ß?
 
IRVING: [placing his bet] one.
Çϳª.
 
The others still in the game place theirs.
 
CARD PLAYER 1: I'll take one.
Çϳª °É°Ú½À´Ï´Ù.
 
CARD PLAYER 2: Three.
¼Â.
 
JOE: Fool, boy. [Checks his cards; bets more] Two for papa.
³Ý. ¾Æ¹öÁö °É·ç µÎ°³.
 
CARD PLAYER 1: [places a note in the pool] Five hundred more.
5¹é ´õ.
 
JOE: [following] Without lookin'.
º¸±â ¾ø±â.
 
IRVING: Five hundred; and, er [clears his throat], raise you a thousand.
500? ±×·³ ³»°¡ 1000À» ³»ÁÖÁö.
 
Joe looks at him suspiciously. Irving rubs his beard but stays unemotional. Joe places his money in the pool.
 
CARD PLAYER 1: [laying his cards down] Two pairs.
Åõ Æä¾î.
 
JOE: Oh, well I got three shy little sevens.
7ÀÌ ¼®ÀåÀ̾ß.
 
IRVING: Er, a nervous straight [lays his cards down; Then, with relish] Come home, you beauties. [Counting his money as he picks it up; Joe looks on grimly] Now, look at that: six thousand five hundred-ah, not bad, that's ten bucks. [As the dealer gathers the
cards back and Joe does up his tie] Er, one more round and I'm gonna throw you gents right out in the snow...
½ºÆ®·¹ÀÌÆ®¸¸ µÇ³×, ¿ÍºÁ.
6õÀ̳ª 5õÀ̳ª, ½Ê´Þ·¯¾ß.
ÇÑÆÇ ´õ ÇÏÁö. ±×·¡¾ß ÀÚ³×µéÀ» ´«¼ÓÀ¸·Î ³»ÂÑÁö.
 
The remaining players objective to his leaving: Say-; what-; wait a minute-, etc.
 
IRVING: I got to get up early: date with Her Royal Highness who will [dramatically] graciously pose for some pictures.
ÀÏÂï ÀϾ¾ßÁö, °øÁÖÀÇ ¿ì¾ÆÇÑ Æ÷Á Âï¾îÁÖ·Á¸é.
 
JOE: What do you mean, early? My personal invitation says eleven forty-five.
ÀÏÂïÀ̶ó´Ï? ³» ÃÊ´ëÀå¿¡´Â 11½Ã 45ºÐÀÌ´øµ¥.
 
CARD PLAYER 1: Couldn't be anything to do with the fact that you're ahead?
µ· µû°í Àִ °Í°ú ¹«½¼ °ü°è°¡ ÀÖ°Ú³ª?
 
IRVING: [smiling] It could.
±×·¸°ÚÁö.
 
JOE: It works out fine for me: this is my last five thousand and you hyenas are not gonna get it. [Putting his money in his pocket, patting Irving on the back] Thanks a lot, Irving.
±×·³ ³»°Õ Àߵƾî. ¸¶Áö¸· 5õÀϼ¼. ³×³ðµéÀº ¸ø°¡Áú°É.
°í¸¿³×, ¾îºù.
 
IRVING: Yeah.
 
JOE: [getting up] See you at Annie's little party in the morning.
¾Æħ¿¡ °øÁÖ´Ô ÆÄƼ¿¡¼­ ¸¸³ª¼¼.
 
IRVING: Ciao, Joe.
 
JOE: [picking up his jacket off the back of the chair] Yeah, ciao.
 
The other men say goodbye: Goodnight, Joe; Ciao; Stay sober, etc.
ÀßÀÚ°Ô, ÁÒ.
 
IRVING: [as Joe leaves] Alright! a little seven card stud.
7¹ø Ä«µå°¡ ¾î¶»°Ô µÈ°Å¾ß?
 
CARD PLAYER 1: Ok with me.
 
Joe Bradley walks along the street, hands in pockets. He slows down by a park bench. Princess Ann is lying on it and Joe glances at her curiously as he walks by.
 
ANN: [sounding drunk because of the drug's effect] Sooooo happy. [Joe stops, turning round to look at her. Interrupting, as Joe almost walks on] How are you this evening? [She stirs on the bench, luxuriously] Mmmmmmmmm.... hmmmmm.... mmmmmmmmmmm...
Á¤¸» ÇູÇØ¿ä.
¿À´Ã ¾Æħ ¾î¶°¼¼¿ä?
 
JOE: [rushing over to prevent her from falling off] Hey! hey, hey, hey. [Turning her on her back] Hey, wake up!
ÀϾ¿ä.
 
ANN: Thank you very much, delighted.
Á¤¸» °í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
JOE: Wake up.
ÀϾ¿ä.
 
ANN: No, thank you. [Raising her gloved hand to him] Charmed.
¾Æ´¢, µÆ¾î¿ä. ¸ÚÀÖ±º¿ä.
 
JOE: [tentatively, shaking her hand] Charmed too.
´ç½Åµµ.
 
* tentatively-½ÃÇè[½ÇÇè]ÀûÀ¸·Î ¸Á¼³À̸ç.
 
ANN: [after a pause] You may sit down.
¾É¾Æµµ ÁÁ¾Æ¿ä.
 
JOE: I think you better sit up; much too young to get picked up by the police.
´ç½ÅÀÌ ÀϾ´Â°Ô ÁÁ°Ú¼Ò. °æÂû¿¡°Ô ÀâÈ÷±â¿£ ³Ê¹« ¾î·Á.
 
ANN: [as he straightens her] Police?
°æÂû?
 
JOE: Yep, po-lice.
±×·¡¿ä, °æÂû.
 
ANN: Two-fifteen and back here to change. Two forty-five... [she wavers slightly, not fully awake].
2:15 ¿Ê°¥¾Æ ÀÔÀ¸·Î ¿À°í. 2:45...
   
 
JOE: [putting a foot up on the bench] You know: people who can't handle liquor shouldn't drink it.
À̱âÁöµµ ¸øÇÒ ¼úÀ» ¿Ö ¸¶¼Å¿ä?
 
ANN: [she looks up at him] If I were dead and buried and I heard your voice beneath the sod my heart of dust would still rejoice. Do you know that poem?
"Á׾¯Çô¼­´Â ±×´ë À½¼ºÀ» µéÀ¸¸é ÁÁ°Ú³×" ±× ½Ã ¾Ë¾Æ¿ä?
 
JOE: Huh, what do you know? [Sitting down] You're well-read, well-dressed; you're snoozing away in a public street. Would you care to make a statement?
¹»? ±Û½ê. Àß ¹è¿ì°í, Àß ÀÔ°íµµ ±æ°Å¸®¿¡¼­ ÀáÀ» ÀÚ¿ä? ¼³¸íÇØ º¸½Ã°Ú¼Ò?
 
ANN: What the world needs is a return to sweetness and decency in the souls of its young men and... [unable to support it, her head falls on his shoulder] mmmmmhhhhhhhhmmmmm...
¼¼»óÀÌ ÇÊ¿ä·Î Çϴ °Ç ´ÞÄÞÇÔ°ú ¿ì¾ÆÇÔ¿¡ÀÇ ±Í¼Ó...
 
* decency-(¾ðÇàÀÌ) ¿¹Àǹٸ§, ¿¹Àý¿¡ ¸ÂÀ½, Ç°À§ ÀÖÀ½.
 
JOE: [he takes his money from his breast pocket and puts it into his trouser one] Yeah, I er, couldn't agree with you more, but erm... [hears a car approaches and whistles. A taxi pulls up. Joe gets up, pats her on the shoulder]. Get yourself some coffee; you'll be
alright. [He goes over to the cab, looks back to see her lying back down. The driver notices too and looks away innocently when he sees Joe looking at him. Joe goes back over to Ann, trying to stir her] Look: you take the cab.
´õÀ̻󠵿ÀÇÇÒ ¼ø ¾øÁö¸¸... °¡¼­ Ä¿ÇÇ Á» ¸¶½Ã¸é ±¦Âú¾ÆÁú°Å¿ä.
´ç½ÅÀ̠Ÿ¿ä.
 
ANN: [without stirring] Mmmmm.
 
Joe looks back at the driver who rests his arm against the window, impatiently.
 
JOE: Come on; [takes her up by the arm] climb in the cab and go home.
Â÷¿¡ ±â¾î ¿Ã¶ó°¡¼­ Áý¿¡³ª °¡¿ä.
 
ANN: [as she drags herself to her feet, helped by Joe] Mmmmm... mmmmmm, so happy.
Á¤¸» ÇູÇØ.
 
JOE: You got any money?
µ· ÀÖ¼Ò?
 
ANN: Never carry money.
¾È °®°í ´Ù³à¿ä.
 
JOE: That's a bad habit.
³ª»Û ½À¼ºÀε¥.
 
ANN: Mm.
 
JOE: Alright, I'll drop you off; come on. [He leads her to the taxi].
ÁÁ¾Æ, µ¥·Á´Ù ÁÖÁÒ.
 
ANN: [brightly; noticing it for the first time] It's a taxi!
ÅýÃÀݾƿä.
 
JOE: Well, it's not the superchief. [He follows her into the cab].
¼öÆÛ ÁöÇÁ´Â ¾Æ´Ï¿ä.
 
CAB DRIVER: [says something in Italian] Where are we going?
¾îµð·Î °¡½Ê´Ï±î?
 
JOE: [to Ann] Where do you live?
¾îµð »ì¾Æ¿ä?
 
ANN: Mmmmmm? [Closing her eyes] Colliseum.
ÄÝ·Ô¼¼¿ò.
 
JOE: Now, come on, you're not that drunk.
±×·¸°Ô ÃëÇÏÁø ¾Ê¾ÒÀݾÆ.
 
ANN: [laughing] If you're so smart I'm not drunk at all. I'm just being [her head falls against his chest] verrrrry haaaappy...
¾ÆÁÖ ¶È¶ÈÇϽŵ¥? ³­ Çϳªµµ ¾È ÃëÇß¾î. ÇູÇØ.
 
JOE: Hey, now, don't fall asleep again.
¶Ç ÀáµéÁö ¸»°í.
 
CAB DRIVER: [first speaks something in Italian] Where are we- we going? [Joe says something in Italian, impatiently.] Ok. [Turns back around].
¼±»ý´Ô, ¾îµð·Î °¥±î¿ä?
 
JOE: [first speaks something in Italian] Look, now where do you wanna to go? Hmmm? Where shall I take you? [Holding her jaw, shaking her head; Ann moans in annoyance] Where do- where do- where do you live? Huh? huh? Come on. Come on, [lightly slapping her face with his hand] where do you live? [The driver looks back, unimpressed] Come on, where do you live?!
Á¶±Ý ÀÖ´Ù ¸»Çص帮ÁÒ.
À̺Á¿ä, ¾îµð·Î °¡°í ½ÍÀº°Å¿ä? ¾îµð·Î? ¾îµð »ì¾Æ¿ä? ¾î¼­! ¾îµð »ì¾Æ¿ä? ¾î¼­! ¾îµð »ì¾Æ¿ä?
 
ANN: [mumbling, half-asleep] I... ohhhhh... Colliseum.
ÄÝ·Ô¼¼¿ò.
 
JOE: [hopelessy; to the cab driver] She lives in the Colliseum.
ÄÝ·Ô¼¼¿ò¿¡ »ê´ë¿ä.
 
CAB DRIVER: [shakes his head] It's wrong address. Now look, senor: for me it is very late tonight... [some Italian]... wife... [more Italian] ... I have three bambinos-three bambinos, you know, bambino? [he pretends to cry like a small child] My- my taxi go
home, I- I go home er to- together. Senor?
¾Æ´Ï°ÚÁÒ, ¾î·µç ¹ãÀÌ ±í¾ú´Âµ¥... ¸¶´©¶ó¿Í ¾Ö°¡ ¼Â¿¡´Ù... Åýõµ Áý¿¡ °¡¾ßÁÒ. Àúµµ¿ä.
 
JOE: [giving up, sitting back] Villa Marguta, fifty-one.
¸¶±¸Å¸ 51¹øÁö.
 
CAB DRIVER: [pleased, finally] Villa Marguta, fifty-one. [Pleased] Oh, [some Italian]!
¸¶±¸Å¸ 51¹øÁö. ÁÁ¾Æ¿ä!
 
The taxi drives off. The cab arrives outside the address.
 
CAB DRIVER: Yes, Villa Marguta fifty-one. [some Italian] I am very happy. [Joe looks grimly at Ann, asleep beside him] Thousand lira [some Italian].
´Ù ¿Ô½À´Ï´Ù. Àúµµ ±â»Ú±º¿ä. 1000¸®¶óÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
JOE: [responds in Italian]
5õÀÌ¿ä.
 
He reaches into his breast pocket then, remembering, his trouser one and gives the driver the money].
 
CAB DRIVER: one, two, three, four mille. [Gives him back some].
Çϳª, µÑ, ¼Â, 4õÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
JOE: Ok. [Says something in Italian then gives him back the money.]
ÁÁ¾Æ¿ä. ÃµÀº ´ç½Å°Å¿ä.
 
CAB DRIVER: For me? [The driver thanks him in Italian].
Á¦²¨¿ä? Á¤¸» °¨»çÇÕ´Ï´Ù.
 
JOE: Ok, ok. Now look: take a little bit of that; take her wherever she wants to go. [The cabbie thinks for a moment, unsure] Hmmm? Capito? Capito. [Some Italian.]
ÁÁ¾Æ¿ä, Àá±ñ¸¸. ÀÌ ¿©ÀÚ¸¦ ¸ñÀûÁö±îÁö µ¥·Á´ÙÁֽÿÀ. ¾Ë°Ú¼Ò? Àß °¡½Ã¿À.
 
CAB DRIVER: [nods and they say goodbye to each other.] Good night.
¾È³çÈ÷ °è¼¼¿ä.
 
[The driver takes one look at Ann sitting asleep and quickly calls out to Joe as he leaves].
 
CAB DRIVER: Oh- no, no; moment, moment, moment! No, no, no [the cabbie pulls him over by the arm] (JOE. Alright). No, no, no.
Àá±ñ, Àá±ñ! ¾ÈµÇ°Ú½À´Ï´Ù.
 
JOE: [leaning down to the window] Alright, alright; look: as soon as she wakes up, see? she tell you where she want to go. Ok.
±ú¾î³ª´Â´ë·Î ÀڱⰡ °¥°÷À» ¸»ÇÒ°Å¿ä.
 
CAB DRIVER: Moment, moment: my taxi not for sleep; my taxi-no sleep. You understand? you understand?
Àá±ñ¸¸! ³» Åýÿ¡¼± ¸øÀÚ¿ä. ¾Æ½Ã°Ú¾î¿ä?
 
JOE: Look, look, pal: this is not my problem, see? I never see her before. Huh? Ok.
À̺Á¿ä, ±×°Ç ³» ¹®Á¦°¡ ¾Æ´Ï¿À. º»Àûµµ ¾ø´Â ¿©Àܵ¥.
 
CAB DRIVER: It's not your problem, it's not my problem. What you want: you don't want girl, yeah? Me don't want girl? Police: maybe she want girl.
´ç½Å ¹®Á¦°¡ ¾Æ´Ï¸é ³» ¹®Á¦µµ ¾Æ´ÏÁÒ. ¹» ¿øÇϴ °ÅÁö¿ä? ´ç½ÅÀÌ ½ÈÀ¸¸é ³ªµµ ½È¾î¿ä. °æÂû! ±×»ç¶÷µéÀ̶ó¸é...
 
JOE: [he relents] Stay calmo, stay calmo, ok, ok, ok. [some Italian, reassuring him as he opens the cab door and drags Ann out].
ÁøÁ¤ÇØ¿ä, ÁøÁ¤! ÁÁ¾Æ¿ä.
 
Joe walks up the steps, followed by Ann, head down barely able to keep awake. He arrives at the front door. As he stops, leaning forward to open it, Ann rests her head on his shoulder. Before going through he straightens causing her to stand up, balancing herself,
and then goes through; Ann follows. He shuts the door behind her, taking her by the hand up the steps. Without thinking she walks around the outside of the small spiral stairwell instead of following him up so Joe turns her around with his hand, leaning over
the railing from above (ANN [blissfully unaware as he leads her around] So happy.), and leads her back around to the bottom of the steps (ANN. So happy.) and up the right way.
She staggers up steps after him, stopping by a door as Joe goes to unlock his one a few steps up. In her stupor, she raises her hand and is about to knock on the neighbour's door when Joe sees her, running over to catch her hand just in time. He leads her to the door and unlocks it. He goes in and turns on the light.
 
JOE: [muttering as Ann follows him in] Out of my head. [He shuts the door behind her].
¸Ó¸® °Ë»ç¸¦ Çؾ߰ڱº.
 
ANN: Is this the elevator?
¿©±â°¡ ¿¤¸®º£ÀÌÅÍ¿¡¿ä?
 
JOE: [offended] It's my room. [He turns on a lamp at the other end of the room, by the bathroom door].
³» ¹æÀÌ¿ä.
 
ANN: [she almost topples over, walking to the bed and putting a gloved hand on the endboard to steady herself] I'm terribly sorry to mention it, but the dizziness is getting worse. [Looking around] Can I sleep here?
¸»Çϱ䠹̾ÈÇÏÁö¸¸ Çö±âÁõÀÌ ´õ ³ª´Â±º¿ä.
¿©±â¼­ ÀÚµµ µÇÁÒ?
 
JOE: That's the general idea. [He walks over and opens a wardrobe on the landing next to the front door].
±×°Ô ÀϹÝÀûÀΠ»ý°¢ÀÌÁÒ.
 
ANN: [poetically] Can I have a silk nightgown with rosebuds on it?
Àå¹Ì°¡ »õ°ÜÁø ½ÇÅ© ³ªÀÌÆ®°¡¿î ÀÖ¾î¿ä?
 
* poetically-»ç½Ç¿¡¼­ ¹þ¾î³ª¼­ , ÀÌ»óÈ­µÇ¾î.
 
JOE: [walking over to Ann, presenting her with some pyjamas] I'm afraid you'll have to rough it tonight-in these.
¿À´Ã ¹ãÀº À̰ɷΠÂü¾Æ Áà¾ß°Ú¼Ò.
 
ANN: [with delight, taking them] Pyjamas!
ÆÄÀÚ¸¶!
 
JOE: Sorry, honey, but I haven't worn a nightgown in years. [He goes over to open another cupboard by the lamp].
¹Ì¾ÈÇÏ¿À¸¸ Æò»ý ³ªÀÌÆ®°¡¿îÀ̶ó°ï ¸ø ÀÔ¾îºÃ¼Ò.
 
ANN: Will you help me get undressed, please? [she stands ready, head raised expectantly].
¿Ê ¹þ´Â°É µµ¿ÍÁֽðھî¿ä?
 
* expectantly-±â´Ù¸®´Â Åµµ·Î ±â´ëÇϴ Åµµ·Î ±âȸÁÖÀÇÀûÀ¸·Î.
 
JOE: [pauses, unsure, then goes to her] Er... ok. [He undoes her necktie, sliding it away fom her neck; presenting it to her] Er, there you are; you can handle the rest. [She looks at it, blankly, then takes it].
ÁÁ¼Ò.
µÆ¼Ò! ³ª¸ÓÁø ´ç½ÅÀÌ ÇÒ¼ö Àִ°ſä.
 
Joe walks over to the table by the front door, pouring a drink into a glass from a bottle, and swallowing it.
 
ANN: [just putting down her last glove] May I have some?
Á» ¸¶¼Åµµ µÇ¿ä?
 
JOE: [firmly] No. [Puts his glass down, going over to her] Now look?
¾ÈµÅ¿ä.
ÀÚ, ºÁ¿ä.
 
ANN: [shaking her head] This is very unusual. [Unbuttoning her cuffs, then the bottom button of her blouse] I've never been alone with a man before, even with my dress on. [Pulling up her blouse out of her skirt] With my dress off it's most unusual. [With a
half-laugh] Hm, I don't seem to mind. [Smiling at him as she starts to open the remaining buttons] Do you?
Á¤¸» »ý¼ÒÇÑ ÀÏÀÌ¿¡¿ä. ³²ÀÚ¶û ´ÜµÑÀÌ À־» ÀûÀÌ ¾ø°Åµç¿ä, µå·¹½º¸¦ ¹þÀºÃ¤·Î¿ä. ÇÏÁö¸¸ ±¦Âú¾Æ¿ä. ´ç½ÅÀº¿ä?
 
JOE: I think I'll go out for a cup of coffee.
³ª°¡¼­ Ä¿Çdzª ¸¶½Ã°Ú¼Ò.
 
ANN: [amused] Hm.
 
JOE: [pulling out a pillow from the bed] You'd better get to sleep. [She starts to sink onto the bed (ANN. Hm?); he catches her] Oh, no, no; [pointing to the ottoman at the side, leading her over] on this one.
´ç½ÅÀº Àڴ°ԠÁÁ°Ú¼Ò.
¾Æ´Ï, ÀÌÂÊÀÌ¿¡¿ä.
 
ANN: [still working on her buttons] How terribly nice.
Á¤¸» ÁÁÀºµ¥¿ä.
 
JOE: Hey, hey: [bringing the pyjamas from the bed, presenting them to her] these are pyjamas; they're to sleep in; you're to climb into them, you understand?
ÆÄÀÚ¸¶¸¦ ÀÔ°í ÀÚ¾ßÁÒ, ¾Ë°Ú¼Ò?
 
ANN: [taking them] Thank you.
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
JOE: And you do your sleeping on the couch, see?-not on the bed, not on the chair: on the couch; is that clear?
ħ´ë¸»°í ¼ÒÆÄ¿¡¼­ ÀÚ¿ä, ÀÇÀÚµµ ¾ÈµÅ.
 
ANN: Do you know my favorite poem?
³»°¡ Á¦ÀÏ ÁÁ¾ÆÇϴ ½Ã ¾Ë¾Æ¿ä?
 
JOE: Ah, you already recited that for me. [He goes to get some blankets from the bed].
¹ú½á À¼¾úÀݼÒ.
 
ANN: [as he lays them out on the ottoman] Aritheuso* rose from a couch of snows in the Aquasaromian* Mountains. Keats.
¾Æ¸®¾ÆµòÀº ¾ÆÅ©·¹À̽º·Î´Ï¾È »ê ´«¼ÓÀÇ ¼ÒÆÄ¿¡¼­ ÀϾ³×. Å°ÀÌÃ÷.
 
JOE: Shelley.
¼¿¸®¿ä.
 
ANN: Keats!
Å°ÀÌÃ÷!
 
JOE: If you just keep your mind off the poetry and on the pyjamas, everything'll be alright; see?
½Ã´Â Àؾî¹ö¸®°í ÆÄÀÚ¸¶³ª ÀÔ¾î¿ä, ±¦Âú¾ÆÁú°Å¿ä.
 
ANN: It's Keats.
Å°ÀÌÃ÷!
 
JOE: I'll be... it's Shelley. I'll be back in about ten minutes.
¼¿¸®. 10ºÐÈÄ¿¡ ¿À°Ú¼Ò.
 
ANN: [to her back as he goes to the door] Keats. [She shakes her head, looking at the pyjamas slightly confused. Thinking better of it, Joe takes the bottle and places it on top of the tall cupboard on the other side of the door. He opens the door and goes through. Ann turns to face him] You have my permission to [her skirt slides down] withdraw.
Å°ÀÌÃ÷.
¹°·¯°¡µµ ÁÁ¾Æ¿ä.
 
JOE: [stopping in the doorway] Thank you very much. [He goes out; Ann resumes her task of getting undressed].
Á¤¸» °í¸¿±º.
 
At the Embassy. The Ambassador is sat at a table, the Countess in a chair in front and the General standing next to her. All are in their bedclothes. A man marches to the desk.
 
AMBASSADOR: Well?
±×·¡?
 
* AMBASSADOR-»çÀý, ´ëÇ¥ »çÀÚ(ÞÅíº).
 
SERVANT. No trace, Your Excellency.
ÈçÀûµµ ¾ø½À´Ï´Ù.
 
* Excellency-°¢ÇÏ(Àå°ü•´ë»ç•Ãѵ¶ µî¿¡ »ç¿ëµÇ´Â Á¸Äª).
 
AMBASSADOR. Have you searched the grounds?
¸¶´çÀº »ìÆìºÃ³ª?
 
SERVANT. Every inch, Sir, from the attics to the cellar.
´Ù¶ô¿¡¼­ ÁöÇϽDZîÁö ´Ù ºÃ½À´Ï´Ù.
 
AMBASSADOR. I must put you on your honor not to speak of this to anyone. I must remind you that the Princess is the direct heir to the throne. This must be classified as top-crisis secret. Have I your pledge?
´©±¸¿¡°Ôµµ ÀÌ »ç½ÇÀ» ¹ß¼³ÇÏÁö ¸¶¶ó. °øÁÖ´ÔÀº ¿Õ½ÇÀÇ Á÷°è »ó¼ÓÀÎÀÓÀ» ¸í½ÉÇÏ°í. Á¦ 1±Þ ºñ¹Ð¿¡ ºÎÄ¡°Ú´Ù. ¸Í¼¼ÇÏ°Ú³ª?
 
SERVANT. Yes, Sir.
³×.
 
AMBASSADOR. Very well. [The man turns and marches out. He turns to the other two]. Now we must notify Their Majesties.
ÁÁ¾Æ.
¿©¿Õ ÆóÇϲ² º¸°íÇؾ߰ڱº.
 
* Majesty-¿Õ <ÁýÇÕÀû> ¿Õ[Ȳ]Á· (M-) ÆóÇÏ(¿Õ•¿©¿Õ•È²Á¦•È²ÈÄ¿¡ ´ëÇÑ °æĪ)(*his, her, your µûÀ§ÀÇ ¼ÒÀ¯°ÝÀ» ¾Õ¿¡ ºÙ¿©¼­ ¾´´Ù).
 
The General looks up at him, worried; the Countess looks up at the General, standing, and turning to the Ambassador who looks at them, waiting for an affirmation. Receiving none, he stands up himself and walks from behind the desk.
 
Joe arrives back at his apartment building, closes the outside door, and walks up the stairwell. He unlocks the front door and walks in.
 
JOE [about to say something] A? [Disappointed on seeing her
asleep in his bed] Oh...
 
Looking at her, he slams the door shut, hard, but she doesn't move a muscle. He goes over to the other side of the bed and moves the table out of the way, making room. Then brings the ottoman over and places it next to her. He takes off his jacket, puts it down and
loosens his tie. Then he grabs the undersheet beneath her and then, calculating, lifts it up quickly, throwing her from the bed and onto the ottoman. She stirs slightly after the disturbance, resuming her comfortable position.
   
 
ANN [muttering] So happy.
Á¤¸» ÇູÇØ.
 
JOE. The pleasure's mine. [He puts the pillow on the other end of the bed, muttering as he goes to get undressed] Ah, screwball.
³ªµµ ±×·¸¼Ò.
 
* screwball-<¹Ì±¹ ¼Ó¾î> ±«Â¥, ±âÀÎ.
 
The newspapers are turning out reports. A machine types out the following bulletin: "A SPECIAL EMBASSY BULLETIN REPORTS THE SUDDEN ILLNESS OF HER ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCESS ANN."
'´ë»ç°ü ´ëº¯ÀΠ¾Ø°øÁÖÀÇ °©ÀÛ½º·± ¹ßº´À» ¹ßÇ¥ÇÏ´Ù'
 
Daytime. A clock in the city strikes 12 noon. Waken by the clock, Joe stirs in his bed. As the clock continues to ring he rises in bed, looking out the window as the sunlight streams in. He grabs an alarm clock, looking at the time, and shaking it.
 
JOE. Holy smoke, the Princess interview! [Ann stirs, half-asleep, with a questioning "hmmm?"] eleven forty-five. [Ann makes annoyed noises as she buries herself back into the pillow] Oh, shut up.
°øÁÖ¿ÍÀÇ ÀÎÅͺä! 11½Ã 45ºÐ.
 
Joe jumps up, pulling the curtain back to see outside. He rushes to the wardrobe but stops, going through his clothes laid over the chair, retrieving a piece of paper. He puts it back as goes back to the wardrobe to get his clothes.
 
Outside the window of an American News Service office. Mr. Hennessy comes to the window, looking down onto the street several stories down to see Joe getting out of a taxi, hurriedly paying the driver. He then sits at his desk, looking through the morning
papers. The headline of the Rome American article, accompanied by a picture of the Princess, reads: "Princess Ann Taken Ill: Press Interview Cancelled". Another paper, in Italian, has an article, also with a picture of the Princess.
 
Joe arrives in the newsroom, reaching for a phone on a desk.
 
NEWSMAN. Hi, Joe.
¾È³ç, ÁÒ.
 
SECRETARY. Good morning, Joe.
¾È³çÇϼ¼¿ä, ÁÒ.
 
JOE. Hello, honey. [He goes over to the secretary, borrowing a drink of her coffee as she holds it].
¾È³ç.
 
SECRETARY. Mr. Hennessy has been looking for you.
Çì³×½Ã¾¾°¡ Ã£À¸¼Ì¾î¿ä.
 
JOE. Uh-oh. [He takes some bread from her desk, ripping off a piece and giving it to her, keeping the rest] Thanks a lot, hon. [He knocks on the door behind the secretary].
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
HENNESSY [from inside, angrily] Come in.
µé¾î¿Í!
 
Joe braces himself, exchanging a worried glance with the secretary, and then marches confidently into the office.
 
JOE [taking a mouthful as he shuts the door behind him; walking to Hennessy's desk] You've been looking for me?
ãÀ¸¼Ì´Ù±¸¿ä?
 
HENNESSY. Just coming to work?
ÀÏÇÏ·¯ ¿Â°Ç°¡?
 
JOE [innocently] Who, me?
Àú¿ä?
 
HENNESSY. We start our days at eight-thirty in this office; we pick up our assignments?
±Ù¹« ½ÃÀÛÀº 8½Ã 30ºÐÀε¥ ¾÷¹«°¡ ÇÒ´çµÇ¾ß...
 
JOE. I picked up mine last night.
Á¦ ÀÓ¹«´Â °£¹ã¿¡ ¹Þ¾Ò´Âµ¥¿ä.
 
HENNESSY. What assignment was that?
¹¹¿´Áö?
 
JOE. The Princess, eleven forty-five.
11½Ã 45ºÐ, °øÁÖ´Ô°ú...
 
HENNESSY [mouth open] You've already been to the interview?
¹ú½á ÀÎÅͺä ÇØ¿Ô³ª?
 
JOE. Well, sure; I just got back. [Taking another mouthful].
±×·³¿ä, ¸· µ¹¾Æ¿Â°Ì´Ï´Ù.
 
HENNESSY. Well, well, well; all my apologies.
ÁÁ¾Æ, »ç°úÇÏÁö.
 
JOE [turning to leave] 'S alright.
 
HENNESSY [stopping him] Er, this is very interesting.
Èï¹ÌÀְڴµ¥.
 
JOE [trying to get away again] Nah, just routine.
¾Æ´¢, ÀÏ»óÀûÀΠ°Ì´Ï´Ù.
 
HENNESSY. Tell me, tell me: did she answer all the questions on the list?
Áú¹®¿¡ ´Ù ÀÀÇÏ´ø°¡?
 
JOE. Well, of course she did. [Rummaging through his pockets] I've got 'em right here, somewhere.
±×·³¿ä, ¿©±â ¾îµò°¡¿¡ Àû¾î¿Ô´Âµ¥.
 
HENNESSY. Er, don't disturb yourself; I have a copy here. [Looking at the piece of paper] How did Her Highness react to the idea of a European Federation?
±×¸¸ ÇÏ°í »çº» ¿©±â ÀÖ³×. °øÁÖ´Ô²²¼­ À¯·´¿¬¹æÁ¦¿¡ ¾î¶² ¹ÝÀÀÀ» ÇϽôø°¡?
 
JOE. She thought it was just fine.
ÁÁÀº »ý°¢À̶ó´øµ¥¿ä.
 
HENNESSY. She did?
Á¤¸»?
 
JOE [seeing the need to flesh it out, leaning against the desk in thought] Well, she thought that there'd be... two effects.
µÎ°¡Áö È¿°ú°¡ ÀÖÀ»°Å·¡¿ä.
 
HENNESSY. Two.
 
JOE. The er, direct and the... indirect.
Á÷Á¢, °£Á¢À¸·Î¿ä.
 
HENNESSY. Oh, remarkable.
±²ÀåÇѵ¥.
 
JOE. Naturally she thought that the indirect would not be as... direct... as the direct. That is, not right away. Later on, of course, well, nobody knows.
¹°·Ð °£Á¢È¿°ú´Â ±×¸® Á÷Á¢ÀûÀÌÁø ¾ÊÀ» °Å·¡¿ä. ±× ¹æ¹ýÀº... ¹°·Ð ³ªÁß¿¡¿ä.
 
HENNESSY. Well, well, well; that was a shrewd observation! They fool you you know, these royal kids; they've got a lot more on the ball than we suspect. [Looking at the paper again] How did she feel about the future friendship of nations?
ÁÁ¾Æ, ÁÁ¾Æ. ¿¹¸®ÇÑ °üÂûÀ̼̱¸¸¸. ÀÚ³Ù ³î¸²À» ´çÇÑ°Ô¾ß. ´õ ¸¹Àº ÀÇ°ßÀÌ ÀÖ¾úÀ»ÅÙµ¥. Àå·¡ÀǠģ¼±°ü°è´Â ¾î¶»°Ô »ý°¢ÇϽŴٴø°¡?
 
JOE. Youth.
 
HENNESSY. Yep?
 
JOE. She felt that, er [nervously walking around the desk, sitting on the corner], the youth of the world must lead the way to a better... [he nervously slides a piece of Hennessy's desk equipment a few inches] world.
¼¼»ó ÀþÀºÀ̵éÀÌ º¸´Ù ³ªÀº ¼¼»óÀ» À̲ø°Å·¡¿ä.
 
HENNESSY. Hmm-hmm, [sliding it back] original. Er, by the way, what was she wearing?
±×·±µ¥ ¹» ÀÔÀ¸¼Ì¾ú³ª?
 
JOE [he pauses blankly] Oh, you mean what did she have on?
¹» ÀÔÀ¸¼Ì¾ú³Ä±¸¿ä?
 
HENNESSY [chuckling] Well, that's usually what it means. [Joe nervously adjusts his collar, getting up off the desk again] Er, what's the matter, is it a little warm in here for you?
±×·± °Ç º¸ÅëÀÌÁö.
±×·±µ¥ ¿©±â°¡ ´õ¿î°¡?
 
JOE [walking back to the front of the desk] No, no, I just hurried over here.
±ÞÇÏ°Ô ¿Í¼­ ±×·¡¿ä.
 
HENNESSY. Oh, naturally, with a story of these dimensions. Did you say she was wearing gray?
ÀÚ¿¬½º·± Â÷¸²Àä, ¹». ±×·±µ¥ È¸»ö¿ÊÀ» ÀÔ¾ú´Ù°í Çß´ø°¡?
 
JOE. No, I didn't say that.
¾Æ´¢, ±×·± ¸» ¾ÈÇߴµ¥¿ä.
 
HENNESSY. Well, she usually wears gray.
º¸Åë È¸»ö¿ÊÀ» ÀÔÀ¸½Ã´øµ¥.
 
JOE. Oh well, er, it was a...kind of a gray.
³×, È¸»ö Á¾·ù¿´¾î¿ä.
 
HENNESSY. Oh, I think I know the dress you mean; it has a gold collar?
¹«½¼ ¿ÊÀÎÁö ¾Ë°Í °°³×. ¸ñ ÁÖÀ§°¡ ±Ý»ö Ä®¶óÁö?
 
JOE. That's the one, that's the one (HENNESSY [smiling, sitting back in agreement] That's it.) Yeah, I didn't know exactly how to describe it but that's it, yeah.
±×°Å¿¹¿ä, ³×. Á¤È®ÇÑ ¹¦»ç´Â ¸øÇÏ°ÚÁö¸¸.
 
HENNESSY. I think you described it very well. [His £åxpression changes as he sits forward, standing up dramatically]-In view of the fact that Her Highness was taken violently ill at three o'clock this morning, put to bed with a high fever, and has had all her
appointments for today cancelled in toto!
¹¦»ç´Â ÀßÇß³×. ¿À´Ã ¾Æħ 3½Ã¿¡ °øÁÖ´Ô²²¼­ °©Àڱ⠺´ÀÌ ³ª¼Å¼­, ¿À´Ã ¾à¼ÓÀº ÀüºÎ ´Ù Ãë¼ÒÇϼ̳×.
 
* in toto-ÀüºÎ, ¸ðÁ¶¸®, ¿ÏÀüÈ÷ ÀüüÀûÀ¸·Î(totally).
 
JOE [helplessly] In toto?
ÀüºÎ ´Ù?
 
HENNESSY. Yes, Mr. Bradley: in toto.
±×·¡, ºê·¡µé¸®! ÀüºÎ´Ù!
 
JOE [swallows audibly] Certainly pretty hard to swallow.
»ïÅ°±â°¡ ¾î·Æ±º¿ä.
 
HENNESSY. In view of the fact that you just left her, of course. But here it is, Mr. Bradley [picking up a paper]: all over the front page of every newspaper in Rome! [he hands him the paper].
¹°·Ð ±×³à¸¦ ¸¸³ª°í ¿À¼Ì°ÚÁö. Ç㳪 Àü ½Å¹®¿¡ ´Ù ³µ¾î.
 
JOE. Alright, alright; I overslept. It can happen to anybody!
ÁÁ¾Æ¿ä, ´ÊÀáÀä¾î¿ä. ±×·² ¼ö ÀÖÀݾƿä.
 
HENNESSY. If you ever get up early enough to read a morning paper you might discover little news events [pointing to the article in the paper]-little items of general interest [Joe looks at the paper and stares at the picture of the Princess-the same woman as in his
apartment but in a regal gown, necklace and tiara] that might prevent you in the future from getting immersed in such a gold-plated, triple-decked, star-spangled lies as you have just told me! [As Joe continues to stare at the picture, open-mouthed] If I was you, I would try some other line of business-like mattress testing.
Á¶°£À» º¼ ¼ö ÀÖÀ» ¸¸Å­¸¸ ÀÏÂï ÀϾÀ¸¸é... ±×·± °ÅÁþ¸»·Î °ï¶õÀ» ¹ÞÁø ¾ÊÀ»ÅÙµ¥. ³ª°°À¸¸é ´Ù¸¥ ÀÏÀ» Ã£¾Æº¸°Ú³×.
 
JOE. Is this the Princess?
ÀÌ ºÐÀÌ °øÁÖ´Ô?
 
HENNESSY. Yes, Mr. Bradley, [pointing to the picture] that is the Princess. It isn't Annie Oakley, Dorothy Lamour, or Madame Chiang Kai-Shek. Take a good look at her [Joe closes his eyes in disbelief]: you might be interviewing her again some day!
°øÁÖ´ÔÀ̽ÃÁö. ¾Ö´Ïµµ ¾Æ´Ï°í µµ·Î½Ãµµ ¾Æ´Ñ. Àß ºÁµÎ°Ô³ª, ¾ðÁ¨°¡´Â ÀÎÅͺä ÇÒ ºÐÀ̴ϱî.
 
JOE [looking at Mr. Hennessy] Am I fired?
ÇØ°í ´çÇÑ °Ç°¡¿ä?
 
HENNESSY. No, you're not fired. When I wanna fire you you won't have to ask! [Joe looks back and forth and walks straight out of the office, carrying the paper]-you'll know you're fired! [Joe walks to the other end of the newsroom, stopping. Shaking his head, seeing that Joe has left the office] The man's mad.
¾Æ´Ï, ¶§°¡ µÇ¸é ¸» ¾ÈÇصµ ¾Ë°É¼¼.
¹ÌÃƱº.
 
Joe opens the other door, closing it carefully behind him and dials the wall-phone in the small foyer. Someone comes in from the front door and Joe watches him nervously until the man goes into the office.
 
An old man, Giovanni, sits down at the desk in his caretaker's room, picking up the phone. He greets Joe in Italian.
 
JOE. Giovanni, it's Joe Bradley. Now, listen carefully: I want you to hurry up to my place and see if there's somebody there... asleep.
ÁÒ ºê·¡µé¸®¿ä. Àß µé¾î¿ä. ´çÀå ³» ¹æÀ¸·Î °¡¼­ ´©°¡ ÀÚ°í ÀÖ´ÂÁö º¸°í¿Í¿ä.
 
GIOVANNI [amused] A-ha! Say, Mr. Joe: I look; [some Italian] you wait. [Some Italian]. [He walks to the door as Joe looks back and forth, impatiently. A few moments later Giovanni walks back to his desk, smiling. He sits down] Mr. Joe?
±×·¯ÁÒ, ÁÒ. »¡¸® °¬´Ù ¿ÃÅ×´Ï ±â´Ù·Á¿ä.
ÁÒ?
 
JOE [almost shouting] Yeah! [Repeating, quietly] Er, yeah, yeah, yeah, tell me, tell me!
¸»ÇØ¿ä, ¸»ÇØ!
 
GIOVANNI. Bellisimo.
¾Æ¸§´Ù¿ì½Åµ¥¿ä.
 
JOE [he looks up, very relieved] Giovanni: I love you. Now, listen...
Áö¿À¹Ù´Ï, »ç¶ûÇØ¿ä. Àß µé¾î¿ä...
 
GIOVANNI. Yes, Mr. Joe. A gun? No!
¾Ë¾Ò¾î¿ä. ÃÑÀ»? ¾ÈµÅ¿ä!
 
JOE. Yes, a gun, a knife-anything! But nobody goes in and nobody goes out! Capito?
³×, ÃÑÀÌ¿ä, Ä®ÀÌ´øÁö. ¾Æ¹«µµ ¸ø µé¾î°¡°Ô ÇØ¿ä.
 
GIOVANNI. Ok. [He hangs up, getting up to obey Joe's instructions].
¾Ë¾Ò¾î¿ä.
 
Joe Bradley, stealing another look at the paper, puts it in his pocket and walks back into the newsroom on his way to Mr. Hennessy's office. The secretary looks up, puzzled, and Joe gestures to her, reassuringly. He strides back into Mr. Hennessy's office.
 
HENNESSY. You still here?
¿©Å ÀÖ¾ú³ª?
 
JOE [walking over he leans on the side of his desk] How much would a real interview with this dame be worth?
ÁøÂ¥ ÀÎÅͺ並 ÇØ¿À¸é ¾ó¸¶Â¥¸®°¡ µÉ±î¿ä?
 
HENNESSY. Are you referring to Her Highness?
°øÁÖ´ÔÀ» µÎ°í Çϴ ¸»Àΰ¡?
 
JOE. I'm not referring to Annie (& HENNESSY [repeating his words, overtaking him] Oakley, Dorothy Lamour, or Madame....)-How much?
¹°·ÐÀÌ¿¡¿ä. ¾ó¸¶ÁÒ?
 
HENNESSY. What do you care? you've got about as much chance of getting?
±×¸¸ÇÑ ±âȸ°¡ ÀÖÀ»°Í °°¾Æ?
 
JOE. I know, but if I did, how much would it be worth?
Çؿ´ٸ頾ó¸¶Â¥¸®¿¡¿ä?
 
HENNESSY. Oh, just a plain talk about world conditions, it might be worth two hundred and fifty. Her views on clothes of course would be worth a lot more-maybe a thousand.
¼¼°è Á¤¼¼¿¡ °üÇѰŶó¸é 250°¡Ä¡´Â µÉ °É¼¼. Àǻ󿡠°üÇÑ °ßÇضó¸é ´õ µÉ°Å±¸, 1000?
 
JOE. Dollars?
´Þ·¯?
 
HENNESSY. Dollars.
´Þ·¯.
 
JOE. I'm talking about her views on everything: [dramatically, walking over to the front of Hennessy's desk] 'The Private and Secret Longings [pointing to the layout of an imagined heading in the air] of a Princess'; her innermost thoughts as revealed to your
own correspondent in a [leaning over Mr. Hennessy's desk, closer and closer] private, personal, exclusive [in a loud whisper] interview. [Hennessy looks at him open-mouthed, in a kind of daze] Can't use it, huh? I didn't think you'd like it. [Joe walks to the door,
opening it and slamming it shut, waking Mr. Hennessy from his daze].
¸ðµç °Í¿¡ °üÇÑ °ßÇظ¦ ¸»¾¸µå¸®´Â °Å¶ó±¸¿ä. °øÁÖÀÇ »çÀûÀΠÀ̾߱â, ºñ¹Ð½º·± ¼Ò¸Á, µ¶Á¡ ÀÎÅͺ信¼­ ¹àÈù °Í°ú °°Àº ±×³àÀÇ ¼Ó¸¶À½. ¸ø¾²°ÚÁÒ? ¾È ÁÁ¾ÆÇϽŴٸé.
 
HENNESSY [shaking his head, as if waking; firmly] Come here! [Joe, satisfied, walks back over] Love angle too, I suppose?
À̸® ¿ÍºÁ. °³ÀÎÀû ±â»ç?
 
JOE. Practically all love angle.
ÀüºÎ ±×·± °ÅÁÒ.
 
HENNESSY. With pictures.
»çÁøµµ?
 
JOE [pausing, thinking] Could be. How much?
°¡´ÉÇØ¿ä. ¾ó¸¶ÁÒ?
 
HENNESSY. That particular story would be worth five grand to any news service. But, er, tell me Mr. Bradley-if you are sober-just how are you going to obtain this fantastic interview?
±×·± Æ¯º°ÇÑ °Ç 5õÀº µÉ°Å¾ß. ¼úµµ ¾ÈÃëÇߴµ¥ ±×·± È¯»óÀûÀΠÀÎÅͺ並 ¾î¶»°Ô ÇØ?
 
JOE [confidentially] I plan to enter her sick room disguised as a thermometer. You said five grand? I want you to [presents his hand] shake on that. [Hennessy shakes his hand].
¿Âµµ°è·Î º¯ÀåÇؼ­ º´½Ç¿¡ µé¾î°¡ÁÒ. 5õÀÌ·¨ÁÒ? Âù¼ºÀ̸頾ǼöÇØ¿ä.
 
HENNESSY [as Joe rushes off to the door impatiently, stopping him] Ah, you realise, of course, Her Highness is in bed today and leaves for Athens tomorrow.
¿À´ÃÀº º´»ó¿¡ °è½ÃÁö¸¸ ³»ÀÏÀº ¾ÆÅ׳׷Π¶°³ª½ÃÁö.
 
JOE. Yep.
 
HENNESSY. Ah, now I'd like to make a little side-bet with you: five hundred says you don't come up with the story. [Joe takes out the paper, unfolding it and taking a good look at the front page again] What are you lookin' at that for?
Àå´ãÄÁµ¥ 5¹é´Þ·¯¸¦ µé¿©µµ ±× ±â»ç´Â ¸ø °¡Á®¿Ã°É.
±×°Ç ¿Ö º¸³ª?
 
JOE. Oh, I just wanna see what time it is.
¸î½ÃÀÎÁö ¾Ë·Á±¸¿ä.
 
HENNESSY. Huh?
 
JOE. Er, what day it is, er... [puts the paper away] It's a deal!
³¯¾¾³ª ¾Ë±îÇؼ­... °Å·¡ÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
HENNESSY. Now I'd [offering his hand] you to shake. [Joe pauses then shakes. Hennessy laughs and Joe smiles with him] Now, let's see, you're into me for about five hundred; when you lose this bet you'll owe me a thousand. [Laughing] Why, you poor sucker, I'll
practically own you!
¾Ç¼ö³ª ÇÏÁö. À̹ø ³»±â¿¡ ÀÚ³×°¡ Áö¸é 1000 ºúÁö´Â °É¼¼. ºÒ½ÖÇϱ¸¸¸, ÀÚ³Ù ³» ¼ÒÀ¯¾ß.
 
JOE. You have practically owned me for a couple of years now, but that's all over. [As Hennessy continues laughing, leaning on the desk] I'm gonna win that money and with it I'm gonna buy me a one way ticket back to New York!
2³âÀ̳ª ¼ÒÀ¯ÇßÁö¸¸, ÀÌÁ¦ ³¡³µ¾î¿ä. À̰ܼ­ ±× µ·À¸·Î ´º¿åÇà Æ¼ÄÏÀ» »ç¾ß°Ú¾î¿ä.
 
HENNESSY. Go on, go on-I'll love to hear you whine!
°è¼ÓÇغÁ. µè±â ÁÁÀºµ¥?
 
JOE. And when I'm in a real newsroom I'll enjoy thinking about you, sitting here with an empty leash in your hands and nobody to twitch for you!
µ¹¾Æ¿Í¼± ´ç½Å ¸ð½ÀÀ» Áñ±â°Ú¾î¿ä, ºó Ã¤ÂïÀ̳ª µé°í Àִ Á¾À̠ȣ¶ûÀÌ!
 
HENNESSY [stopping Joe, who stops in the doorway to face him] So long, [raises his right hand, his finger and thumb in an 'O'] Peachy. [Joe leaves.]
Àß°¡°Ô, ¾ó°£ÀÌ!
 
Outside Joe's apartment. Giovanni paces outside the door, a gun strapped to him, copying the actions of a sentry. A crowd of children sitting on the stairwell make fun of him. He goes after them, telling them off and they back away, shouting and laughing. As the children sit back down on the stairs Joe enters the open door leading outside and walks up the stairs, carefully avoiding the children, playfully batting one of them on the head with his newspaper.
 
GIOVANNI [as Joe arrives at the top] What's your problem?
 
JOE. Everything ok, Giovanni?
¾Æ¹«ÀÏ ¾øÁÒ?
 
GIOVANNI [reassuring him, proudly] Listen here, Joe: er, nobody is come, nobody is go; absolutely nobody.
±×·³¿ä, ¾Æ¹«µµ ¿ÀÁöµµ °¡Áöµµ ¾Ê¾Ò¾î¿ä.
 
JOE. Swell! thanks a lot. [He is about to go into his apartment but stops, turning to Giovanni] Oh er, Giovanni, er... [Putting his arm round him, leading him to the side] How would you like to make some money?
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä! Áö¿À¹Ù´Ï, µ·À» ¾î¶»°Ô ¹ú°í ½ÍÁÒ?
 
GIOVANNI. Money?
µ·?
 
JOE. Yeah. [Giovanni responds in agreement in Italian]. That's the stuff. Now look, I've got a sure thing: double your money back in two days.
ÀÌƲ ÈÄ¿¡ µ·À» µÎ¹è·Î ¸¸µé¾îÁÙ²²¿ä.
 
GIOVANNI [suspiciously] Double my money?
µÎ¹è·Î?
 
JOE. Yeah well, I need a little investment capital to swing the deal. Now, if you'll just lend me a little cash, I?
ÀÚº»ÀÌ Á» ÇÊ¿äÇѵ¥. Á¶±Ý¸¸ ²ãÁÖ½ÃÁÒ.
 
GIOVANNI [says some Italian]. You owing me tomorrow's rent (JOE. I know, I know, I know.) and you want me to lend you money? (JOE. Yeah.) [Emphatically] No, [Some Italian] no!
Çö±ÝÀ»? µÎ´ÞÄ¡ Áý¼¼µµ ¹Ð·È´Âµ¥ µ·À» ºô·Á¿ä? ¾ÈµÅ¿ä, ¾ÈµÅ.
 
* Emphatically-°­Á¶ÇÏ¿© (¸»¿¡) °­¼¼¸¦ µÎ¾î Ã¶ÀúÇÏ°Ô ´ÜÈ£ÇÏ°Ô, ÈûÁÖ¾î.
 
JOE [pointing his paper at him] Tomorrow, you'll be sorry!
³»ÀÏÀ̸é ÈÄȸÇÒ °É¿ä.
 
Joe goes through his front door, seeing Princess Ann still asleep in his bed. He shuts the door quietly, fastening the chain across, also. Joe stands looking at her for a moment then moves round to the other side of the bed-the side she is facing lying down. He stands
above her, looking at her face then looking again at the newspaper picture to compare them. He sits down beside her and moves a lock of her out of the way to get a better view of her face. He holds the picture up beside her but her hand still partially covers her face.
 
He tickles her hand and she moves it restlessly. He leans closer to her:
 
JOE [quietly] Your Highness? [She stirs with a "Mmmm-mmmmm"]. Your Royal Highness?
°øÁÖ´Ô. °øÁÖ´Ô.
 
ANN [turning to her other side, sighing] Yes... what is it?
±×·¡, ¹¹ÁÒ?
 
Joe sits up in delight, the fact of her identity passing through his mind. He stands up, excitedly putting the newspaper back in his pocket, and walks around the bed. Seeing the alarm clock on the cupboard missing he picks it up from the bed and replaces it. He
replaces the pillow in its proper place, smoothing out the sheets then walks back around to Princess Ann. He carefully picks up her left arm, putting it around his neck, then slides his arms under her head and legs and carries her-blankets included-around to the other side of the bed. He is about to put her down but sees that she is holding her the wrong way. All of a sudden he hears police sirens sound outside and stops for a moment, then, still holding her, picks up the pillow with one hand and puts it at the other end of the bed, laying her down gently. She continues sleeping as he goes over to the window and looks down at the street at some police cars coming into view around a corner. Looking back anxiously at the Princess he goes back in.
 
ANN [stirring slightly] Dear Doctor Bonnachoven.
¹Ù³ëÅ©È£º¥ ¹Ú»ç.
 
JOE [not sure what to do] Hmm? [Playing along, not wanting to disturb her] Oh, oh, sure, yes. Well, er...er, you're fine; much better. Is there anything you want?
³×, ÈξÀ ÁÁ¾ÆÁ³±º¿ä. ¹¹ ÇÊ¿äÇϽŰŶóµµ?
 
ANN. Hmm? So many things.
¾ÆÁÖ ¸¹¾Æ¿ä.
 
JOE. Yes? well tell the doctor (ANN. So many...) Tell the good doctor everything.
±×·¡¿ä? Á¦°Ô ¸»¾¸Çغ¸½ÃÁÒ. ¸ðµç °ÍÀ»¿ä.
 
ANN [without opening her eyes, stirring in the bed, spreading her arm] Mmmmm, I dreamt and I dreamt...
²ÞÀ» ²å¾î¿ä.
 
JOE. Yes? Well, er, what did you dream? [Holding her wrist as a doctor might].
¹«½¼ ²ÞÀ» ²Ù¼Ì³ª¿ä?
 
ANN. I dreamt I was asleep on the street and... young man came and he was tall and strong and... [screwing her face up] he was so mean to me.
°Å¸®¿¡¼­ ÀÚ°í Àִµ¥ À¢ ÀþÀºÀÌ°¡ ´Ù°¡¿Ô¾î¿ä. Å°°¡ Å©°í °­ÇÑ ³²Àܵ¥... ³»°Ô ºÒÄ£Àý Çß¾î¿ä.
 
JOE. He was? [He lets her arm down].
±×·¨½À´Ï±î?
 
ANN. Mmmm. [Blissfully; putting her arm over her eyes] It was wonderful.
±Ùµ¥ Àß»ý°å¾î¿ä.
 
She opens her arms, stretching a little. Lying face-up, not quite awake yet, she looks at the ceiling, seeing the plumbing visible in the corner-quite different to the ornamentation of the Embassy bedchamber. Then she looks at Joe standing over her. She closes her eyes, smiling, then opens them again, her £åxpression becoming severe as she stares at him.
 
* ornamentation-Àå½Ä, Ä¡·¹ <ÁýÇÕÀû> Àå½ÄÇ°.
 
JOE [cheerfully] Good morning.
Àß Àä½À´Ï±î?
 
ANN [she starts; in a low, worried tone] Where's Doctor Bonnachoven?
¹Ù³ëÅ©È£º¥ ¹Ú»ç´Â¿ä?
 
JOE [unbothered] Er, I'm afraid I don't know anybody by that name.
±×·± À̸§Àº ¸ð¸£°Ú´Âµ¥.
 
ANN [puzzled] Wasn't I talking to him just now?
¹æ±Ý À̾߱⸦ ³ª´³¾î¿ä.
 
JOE. 'Fraid not.
¾Æ´Ò°É¿ä.
 
ANN [suddenly frightened; feeling herself beneath the sheets] Have- have I had an accident?
»ç°í°¡ ÀÖ¾ú³ª¿ä?
 
JOE. No.
¾Æ´¢.
 
ANN [reassured] Quite safe for me to sit up, huh?
¾É°Ô µµ¿ÍÁÖ¼¼¿ä.
 
JOE. Yeah, [bending down to her] perfect [he lifts her pillow back and helps her sit up, leaning against it. She looks at him all the while, not fully trusting of him].
±×·¯ÁÒ.
 
Joe leans against the cupboard at the foot of the bed.
 
ANN. Thank you [he smiles back. She looks down at her pyjamas then to Joe] Are these yours?
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
´ç½Å °Å¿¹¿ä?
 
He nods. Ann, suddenly panicked, feels under the sheets for her pyjama bottoms.
 
JOE. Er, did- did you lose something?
¹» ÀÒ¾î¹ö·È³ª¿ä?
 
ANN [smiling, relieved] No. No. [Politely, suppressing her anxiety] W-would you be so kind as tell me w-where I am?
¾Æ´¢. ¿©±â°¡ ¾îµòÁö ¸»¾¸ÇØÁÖ¼¼¿ä.
   
 
JOE. Well, this is what is laughingly known as my apartment.
Á¦ ¾ÆÆÄÆ®¶õ °÷ÀÌÁÒ.
 
ANN [concerned; rising suddenly] Did you bring me here by force?
°­Á¦·Î µ¥·Á¿Â °Ç°¡¿ä?
 
JOE. No, no, no... [smiling] quite the contrary.
¾Æ´¢. ±×¹Ý´ëÁÒ.
 
ANN. Have I been here all night... alone?
¹ã»õ È¥ÀÚ Àä¾ú³ª¿ä?
 
JOE [smiling] If you don't count me, yes.
Àú¸¸ »©¸é, ±×·¸ÁÒ.
 
ANN [seriously] So I've spent the night here-with you.
±×·³ ´ç½Å°ú ¹ãÀ» º¸³½°Å¿¹¿ä?
 
JOE [hurrying to reassure her] Oh, well, now, I- I don't know if I'd use those words exactly, but er, from a certain angle, yes.
±×·± ¸»À» ¾²Áø ¾ÊÁö¸¸, ¾î¶² °¢µµ¿¡¼­´Â ±×·¡¿ä.
 
Ann looks down, thinking. After a moment, reassured that everything is alright afterall, laughs.
 
ANN [presenting her hand] How do you do?
óÀ½ ºË°Ú¾î¿ä.
 
JOE [shaking her hand] How do you do?
¾È³çÇϽʴϱî?
 
ANN. And you are?
´ç½ÅÀº?
 
JOE. Bradley, Joe Bradley.
ÁÒ ºê·¡µé¸® ÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN. Delighted.
±â»Ú±º¿ä.
 
JOE. You don't know how delighted I am to meet you.
³ªµµ ¾ó¸¶³ª ±â»ÛÁö ¸ð¸¦°Ì´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN [gesturing to the chair to her left] You may sit down.
¾É¾Æµµ ÁÁ¾Æ¿ä.
 
JOE. Well, thank you very much [he sits down on the bed instead; she pulls back her legs, looking back at him like a frightened gazelle]. What's your name?
°í¸¿½À´Ï´Ù. À̸§ÀÌ ¹¹ÁÒ?
 
ANN [she pauses, stalling] Er... you may call me Anya.
¾Ö´Ï¾Æ¶ó°í ºÎ¸£¼¼¿ä.
 
JOE. Thank you, Anya. [Cheerfully; rising to go to the table] Would you like a cup of coffee?
°í¸¿±º¿ä, ¾Ö´Ï¾Æ. Ä¿ÇÇ µé°Ú¾î¿ä?
 
ANN. What time is it?
¸î½ÃÁÒ?
 
JOE. Oh, about one thirty.
1½Ã 30ºÐ.
 
ANN [panicked] one thirty! [Jumping out of bed towards the door] I must get dressed and go! [remembering, she grabs the blankets to cover herself].
1½Ã 30ºÐ? ¿ÊÀ» ÀÔ°í °¡¾ßÇØ¿ä.
 
JOE [casually; continuing to prepare the coffee] Why? what's your hurry?-there's lots of time.
¹¹°¡ ±ÞÇؼ­¿ä? ½Ã°£Àº ¸¹Àºµ¥.
 
ANN. Oh no, there isn't and I've- I've been quite enough trouble to you as it is.
±×·¸Áö ¾Ê¾Æ¿ä, ±×µ¿¾È Æ󸸠³¢ÃƱº¿ä.
 
JOE. Trouble? [Smiling] You're not what I'd call trouble.
Æó? Æó¶ö °Í±îÁø ¾ø¾î¿ä.
 
ANN [pleased] I'm not?
¾Æ³é¿ä?
 
JOE [going to the bathroom door] I'll run a bath for you. [As he goes in to turn on the taps on the bath, Ann picks up her clothes from the floor near the bathroom door, holding them to her chest. After laying a towel out on the floor next to the bath he comes back out, gesturing with his arm to her to go in] There you are.
¸ñ¿å¹°À» ¹Þ¾Æ ³õÀ»²²¿ä.
µÆ½À´Ï´Ù.
 
Ann walks to the bathroom, keeping him in front of herself, turning round to go through the door, then quickly turning around so as to be able to see him as she shuts the door behind her.
 
As soon as the door shuts, Joe goes over to the door and in trying to open it gently, forgets the chain and causes a noise. He undoes the chain and goes out and down the steps.
 
Joe goes into a workshop full of people working on sculptures. He asks one of the men, in Italian, if he can use the phone. Joe thanks him then dials. As he waits for the phone to be answered Joe takes out the paper to look at the picture again.
 
The phone rings in Irving Radovich's studio. He is lying on his back holding a camera, next to a tub filled with water which produces a ripple effect on the ceiling. on his leg is attached a piece of string which runs up to a fishing rod, held by a model who sits on the upper level of the studio, her legs sticking out through the balcony.
 
IRVING [aiming his camera] Here we go now. [He takes the picture] There you are; that does it. [Pulling himself off his back] Oh. [To the model, trying to put his leg down to untie the string as she playfully pulls at the rod] Gimme a little slack, will ya? [He answers the phone] Pronto?
ÀÚ, Âï´Â´Ù.
Á» ½¯±î?
¿©º¸¼¼¿ä?
 
JOE [impatiently] Irving! why won't you answer the phone? [Calmer] Look, this is Joe. Irving: can you get over here in about five minutes?
¾îºù! ¿Ö ±×·¸°Ô ¾È¹Þ´Â°Å¾ß? ÁÒ¾ß, 5ºÐ³»·Î ¿Í ÁÙ·¡?
 
IRVING [sitting back; the model dangles the line around his head] Oh no, I can't come now, Joe; I'm busy. Oh no... [playfully biting at the end of the line] Joe: I'm up to my ears in work. [To the model; covering the mouthpiece of the phone] Go on, get into your next
outfit, will you, Honey?-the canoe. What kind of a scoop, Joe?
Áö±ÝÀº ¾ÈµÅ, ¹Ùºü. ÀÏÀÌ »ê´õ¹Ìó·³ ½×¿´¾î.
°¡¼­ ´ÙÀ½ ÀÇ»óÀ» ÀÔ¾î¿ä.
¾î¶² Æ¯Á¾°¨Àε¥?
 
JOE. Look, Irving, I can't talk over the telephone; one word in the wrong quarter and this whole thing might blow sky-high. It's front page stuff, that's all I can tell you. It might be political ro it might be a sensational scandal-I'm not sure which, but it's a
big story and it's got to have pictures!
ÀüÈ­·Ð ¸»ÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø¾î. ÁøÂ¥ Æ¯Á¾°¨À̶õ°Í ¹Û¿£. Á¤Ä¡±â»ç°¡ µÉ¼öµµ ÀÖ°í, ±²ÀåÇÑ ½ºÄµµéÀÌ µÉ¼öµµ ÀÖÁö.
 
IRVING. But I can't come now, Joe; I'm busy. [Looking up where the model is, in a lower tone to the phone] I'm busy now and I'm meeting Francesca at Rocca's in a half an hour and?
Áö±ÝÀº ¾ÈµÅ, »çÁøÀ» Âï¾î¾ß µÅ. ¹Ùºü, 30ºÐÈÄ¿¡ ÇÁ¶õü½ºÄ«µµ ¸¸³ª¾ß Çϱ¸.
 
A charwoman enters Joe's apartment, carrying a bucket and mop. She puts them down inside and closes the door, muttering a disdainful "Ah!" at the sight of the bed in a mess. She walks to the window and opens the curtains. Hearing the sound of water coming from the
bathroom she rushes over and opens the door, revealing Ann just getting out of the bath, covered in a towel. She emits a scream of surprise at the intrusion, pulling the towel up, as the charwoman stands in the doorway, hands on hips. Ann tries to excuse herself in
Italian, shutting the door, but the charwoman will have none of it and orders her outside, waving her finger at Ann and strongly reprimanding her in Italian.
 
* charwoman-(ºôµùÀǠû¼Ò¿ø µî) ÀÏ¿ë(ìíé¶) À⿪ºÎ <¿µ±¹> ÀÏ¿ë °¡Á¤ºÎ, ÆÄÃâºÎ.
 
CHARWOMAN. Capito?
¾Ë°Ú¾î?
 
ANN. No capito-don't understand.
¸ð¸£°Ú¾î¿ä.
 
CHARWOMAN. Don't understand? [Ann runs back to the bathroom and the charwoman mutters more Italian after her].
¸ð¸¥´Ù±¸?
 
Joe runs up the stairwell and goes into his apartment. Looking around, he doesn't see Ann-only his empty apartment tidied and the bed made. He realises the balcony door is open and goes out into the sun, finding Princess Ann looking out over the city.
 
JOE. There you are! [She turns to meet him].
¹¹ÇØ¿ä?
 
ANN. I was looking at all the people out here. [Smiling, looking around the buildings] It must be fun to live in a place like this.
»ç¶÷µéÀ» ÃÄ´Ùº¸°í ÀÖ¾ú¾î¿ä. ÀÌ·±µ¥¼­ »ç´Â°Ç Àç¹ÌÀÖÀ» °Å¿¹¿ä.
   
 
JOE. Yeah, it has its moments. I can give you a running commentary on each apartment.
±×·±°Ç Àá±ñ»ÓÀÌÁÒ. ¾ÆÆÄÆ® ¼Ò°³¸¦ ÇÒ²²¿ä.
 
ANN [she turns to him, seriously] I must go.
°¡ºÁ¾ß µÅ¿ä.
 
JOE. Hmm?
 
ANN. I only waited to say goodbye.
ÀÛº°Àλ縦 ÇÏ·Á°í ±â´Ù·È¾î¿ä.
 
JOE. Goodbye?-But we've only just met. How about some breakfast?
ÀÛº°? ÀÌÁ¦ ¸· ¸¸³µ´Âµ¥¿ä? ¾Æħ½Ä»ç ¾î¶§¿ä?
 
ANN. I'm sorry, I haven't time.
¹Ì¾ÈÇØ¿ä, ½Ã°£ÀÌ ¾ø¾î¿ä.
 
JOE. Must be a pretty important date to run off without eating.
½Ä»çµµ ¾ÈÇÏ°í °¥¸¸Å­ Áß¿äÇÑ ¾à¼ÓÀΰ¡º¸±º¿ä.
 
ANN. It is.
±×·¡¿ä.
 
JOE [walking her back to the apartment] Well, I'll go along with you, wherever you are going.
Á¦°¡ ¸ð¼Å´Ù µå¸±²²¿ä.
 
ANN. That's alright, thank you; I can find the place. [They walk back inside] Thank you for letting me sleep in your bed.
±¦Âú¾Æ¿ä, È¥Àڠã¾Æ°¥²²¿ä. Àç¿öÁ༭ °í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
JOE. Oh, that's alright; think nothing of it.
±¦Âú¾Æ¿ä, ¾Æ¹«°Íµµ ¾Æ´Ñµ¥.
 
ANN. It was very considerate of you... [motioning to the ottoman] you must have been awfully uncomfortable on that couch.
ÀÌÇؽÉÀÌ ¸¹À¸½Ã±º¿ä. ¼ÒÆÄ¿¡¼­ ºÒÆíÇϼÌÀ»°Å¿¹¿ä.
 
JOE. No, no-do it all the time. [She smiles as he turns to open the door].
¾Æ´¢! ´Ã ±×·¯´Âµ¥¿ä.
 
ANN [as she goes out she turns to shake his hand] Goodbye, Mr. Bradley.
¾È³çÈ÷ °è¼¼¿ä.
 
JOE [shaking her hand] Goodbye. [Seeing her unsure about which way to go he points to the way out] Oh: go right through there and down all the steps.
¾È³çÈ÷ °¡¼¼¿ä.
Àú±æ Áö³ª °è´ÜÀ» ³»·Á°¡¼¼¿ä.
 
She walks down the stairs and he goes back inside and shuts the door, walking out to the balcony again. Ann goes through the outside door, watched from above by Joe as she walks away. He runs back inside and out his front door.
 
Part-way down the outside steps, Ann stops and turns to run back up. Joe, running to follow her almost runs into her.
 
JOE [laughing as they stop on the steps] Well, small world.
¼¼»óÀÌ Á¼±âµµ Çϱº¿ä.
 
ANN. Yes- I- I almost forgot: can you lend me some money?
³×, ÀØÀ»»· Çߴµ¥ µ· Á» ºô·ÁÁÖ¼¼¿ä.
 
JOE [as Giovanni appears in the window of the building overlooking the steps, opposite them] Oh, yeah; that's right, you didn't have any last night did you?
¸Â¾Æ¿ä. ÇÑǬµµ ¾ø´Ù°í ÇßÁÒ?
 
ANN. Mmm.
 
JOE [as he reaches for his money he sees Giovanni watching] How much... [looking back up at Giovanni, uncomfortably] how much was it that you wanted?
¾ó¸¶¸é µÇ°Ú¾î¿ä?
 
ANN. Well, I don't know how much I need. How much have you got?
¾ó¸¶°¡ ÇÊ¿äÇÑÁö ¸ð¸£°Ú¾î¿ä.
 
JOE. Well, er [looks quickly up at Giovanni], suppose we just split this fifty-fifty: here's a thousand lira.
ÀÌ°É ¹Ý¾¿ ³ª´©ÁÒ. 1000¸®¶ó´Ï±î.
 
ANN. A thousand?! Can you really spare all that?
1000? Á¤¸» ±×¸¸Å­À̳ª ¿©À¯°¡ ÀÖ¾î¿ä?
 
JOE. It's about a dollar and a half.
1.5´Þ·¯ Â렵Ǵ°ÅÁÒ.
 
ANN. Oh... Well, I- I'll arrange for it to be sent back to you. What is your address?
µ¹¾Æ°¡¼­ °±¾Æµå¸±²²¿ä. ÁÖ¼Ò°¡ ¾î¶»°Ô µÇÁÒ?
 
JOE. Er, Villa Marguta, fifty-one.
¸¶±¸Å¸ 51¹øÁö.
 
ANN. Villa Marguta, fifty-one. [Smiling] Joe Bradley. Goodbye; thank you. [She walks down the steps].
¸¶±¸Å¸ 51¹øÁö. ÁÒ ºê·¡µé¸®. ¾È³ç, °í¸¶¿ü¾î¿ä.
 
Joe watches her from the top of the steps, exchanging glances with Giovanni. As Ann reaches the bottom he heads down after her, watched by Giovanni.
 
GIOVANNI. Ah, double my money, eh? You tell me you want double my money (JOE [waving his hand up at him, reassuring him] Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.) that way? [Repeating to himself, after Joe has walked past] Eh, tomorrow.
¾î¶»°Ô µÎ¹è·Î ¸¸µé°Çµ¥? ÀÚ³×°¡ ¸»ÇßÀݳª.
(³»ÀÏ ºÆ¿ä.)
±×·¡, ³»ÀÏ º¸ÀÚ.
 
Ann walks out onto the busy city street, dodging a motorbike as she arrives from a side-street. She looks out fascinated at all the activity, momentarily intimidated, but then venturing out confidently as she enjoys the bustle of the city around her.
 
Joe peers down the street after her, running between the people in order to keep within sight. He follows her into a market as Ann wanders along, taking her time, just enjoying herself. She walks past several vendors offering her their goods.
 
As Ann stops to look at a stall Joe has to back off, and is instantly targetted by the nearest vendor who offers him some of his huge melons. He shakes his head at him, more interested in keeping an eye on Ann who tries on a pair of shoes at the stall, then pays
the woman vendor for them. Joe's vendor persists and Joe finally buys the melon off him, which at once quietens him down. So, carrying the melon, he follows Ann down to another street where she stops, looking out at the Fontana di Trevi: a magnificent facade
ornamented with statues, fronted by a pool.
 
Ann continues down the street that runs beside the fountain, stopping outside a salon to look at the drawings of hairstyles in the window which surround a mirror. She appears disappointed at the way she looks in the mirror and, after smiling at the hair of someone who walks past, decides to go inside.
 
Joe walks up the the shop, smiling when he sees where she has gone.
 
Inside the hair salon Ann sits on one of the seats in front of the large mirror, holding up her long hair as the hairdresser (Mario Delani) fastens the cover around her.
 
MARIO DELANI [speaking rather hesitant English] What a wonderful er, hair you have. [He asks her something in Italian].
¾Æ¸§´Ù¿î ¸Ó¸®°áÀ» Áö´Ï¼Ì±º¿ä. ÇΰŠ¿þÀ̺ê·Î.
 
ANN. Just cut, thank you.
±×³É Ä¿Æ®¸¸ ÇØÁà¿ä.
 
MARIO DELANI. Just cut? [Takes the scissors from his hair] Well then, cut, er, so? [he holds the hair at a certain length].
Ä¿Æ®¸¸? ±×·³ ¾î¶»°Ô?
 
ANN. Higher.
´õ Âª°Ô.
 
MARIO DELANI. Higher? [He holds the hair further up] Here?
´õ! ¿©±â!
 
ANN. More.
ÈξÀ ´õ!
 
MARIO DELANI. Here?
¿©±â¿ä?
 
ANN. Even more.
Á» ´õ!
 
MARIO DELANI [impatiently] Where?
¾îµð±îÁö¿ä?
 
ANN [she holds her hair at the shoulders] There.
¿©±â±îÁö.
 
MARIO DELANI. There. [Snapping his scissors nervously] Are you sure, Miss?
¿©±â±îÁö... Á¤¸»À̼¼¿ä?
 
ANN [emphatically] I'm quite sure, thank you.
¹°·ÐÀÌ¿¡¿ä.
 
MARIO DELANI [he turns he round in the chair, taking her hair in his hand] All off?
ÀüºÎ ´Ù?
 
ANN. All off.
ÀüºÎ ´Ù.
 
Joe peers in them through the beaded curtain, still holding his melon. (MARIO DELANI [uncomfortable as he starts cutting off her long hair] Off.) Joe goes outside, looking round, then walks away down the street.
 
Ann sits in the salon still, her hair covering her face.
 
MARIO DELANI [pulling apart her hair to see her] Are you sure?
Á¤¸»ÀÌÁÒ?
 
ANN [impatiently] Yes.
³×.
 
MARIO DELANI [dropping her hair back over her face] Yes. [As he cuts her locks off, working his way round] Off! off; off... [wipes his forehead with his arm].
ÀÚ¸¨´Ï´Ù. À߶ó¿ä. À߶ó¿ä. À߶ú¾î¿ä.
 
Joe finds a public phone down the street opposite the fountain. Joe waits impatiently, studying his melon, as another person speaks on the phone, in Italian. Then, seeing a group of children playing on the statue, goes over to one of them, passing his melon to a boy.
 
Back in the salon, the hairdresser cuts of the last lock of her hair.
 
MARIO DELANI. Off! [He stands to the side of her as they both study the end result as Ann moves her head slightly from side to side. She looks down at something but, engrossed in her, the hairdresser jerks her head back to the centre to get a better view].
À߶ú¾î¿ä.
   
 
Outside, Joe sees a group of American schoolgirls, playing and talking around the fountain. He approaches one who carries a camera.
 
JOE [gently coaxing her to get a look at the camera] That's a nice little camera you have there. Ah, it's nice. Mmmm. Er, you don't mind if I just borrow it, do you? [He tries to coax it off her but the strap is around her neck].
ÁÁÀº Ä«¸Þ¶ó °°Àºµ¥? Àá±ñ ºô·ÁÁÖ°Ú´Ï?
 
SCHOOLGIRL 1 [calling out; putting her hand up] Miss Weber!
¼±»ý´Ô.
 
JOE. I'll give it back... just for a couple of minutes.
Àá±ñÀ̸頵Å.
 
SCHOOLGIRL 2 [trying to resist him] No. Go, it's my camera.
¾ÈµÅ¿ä.
 
Their teacher comes over, looking over Joe darkly. He lets go of the camera as the teacher leads the student away, then holds his head in his hand, embarrassed.
 
In the salon someone sweeps the hair up off the floor. Mario Delani is combing her hair, touching up the ends.
 
MARIO DELANI. You musician, maybe? You artist, aha? Painter...? I know: you model! [She smiles, flattered] Model, hah?
À½¾ÇÀÎÀ̽Ű¡¿ä? ¾Æ´Ô ¿¹¼ú°¡? È­°¡? ¸ðµ¨À̽ñº¿ä.
 
ANN. Thank you.
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
MARIO DELANI [says some Italian] Finito. It's perfect.
´Ù µÆ½À´Ï´Ù. ¿Ïº®ÇØ¿ä.
 
ANN. Oh.
 
MARIO DELANI [as the hairdresser turns her round from side to side, looking in the mirror] Y-y-you be nice without long hair. Now, it's cool, hmm? Cool?
¸ÚÀÖ¾î, ½Ã¿øÇϽÃÁÒ?
 
ANN [turning her head to the side, playing with the ends] Yes, it's, it's just what I wanted.
³×, ¿øÇß´ø°Å¿¡¿ä.
   
 
               
 
MARIO DELANI. Grazzi. [As she looks in the mirror] Now, why you not come dancing tonight with me? You should see, it's so nice: it's on a boat on the Tib?ine, Tiber-the river by Saint Angelo... [dramatically] moonlight, music, romantico! It's very, very... [his English vocab runs out] very. Please, you come?
°í¸¿½À´Ï´Ù. ¿À´Ã¹ã ÃãÃß·¯ °¡½Ã°Ú½À´Ï±î? ¹è À§¿¡¼­Àε¥ Á¤¸» ¸ÚÁöÁÒ. ´Þºû°ú À½¾Ç, ³¶¸¸ÀûÀÌÀݾƿä? °¡ÁֽðڽÀ´Ï±î?
 
ANN. I wish I could.
Àúµµ °¥¼ö ÀÖÀ¸¸é ÁÁ°Ú¾î¿ä.
 
MARIO DELANI [disappointed] Oh. [As Ann gets up, taking out her money] But, but, your friend: I think they not recognise you.
Ä£±¸ºÐµéÀÌ ¸ô¶óº¸½Ç°Å¿¹¿ä.
 
ANN. No, I don't think they will! [She gives him the money].
³×, Àúµµ ±×·¸°Ô »ý°¢ÇØ¿ä.
 
MARIO DELANI. Oh, thank you very much.
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
ANN. Thank you.
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
MARIO DELANI [as she leaves he rushes out the door after her] Ah, er, senorina. [Standing in the doorway as she turns to him] After nine o'clock, I'll be there. Dancing on river-remember: Saint Angelo. If you come, you will me most pretty of all girl!
¾Æ°¡¾¾. 9½Ã ÀÌÈÄ¿£ °Å±â ÀÖÀ»°Ì´Ï´Ù. »óÆ® ¾ÈÁ©·Î, ±â¾ïÇϼ¼¿ä. ¿À½Å´Ù¸é ÃÖ°í¹ÌÀÎÀÌ µÇ½Ç°Å¿¡¿ä.
 
ANN [she smiles, surprised and flattered] Thank you. Goodbye.
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä. ¾È³ç.
 
MARIO DELANI [as she leaves] Goodbye.
¾È³ç.
 
Joe, watching from across the square, sees her leave and follows her. She passes by a shop window, stopping to look, and seeing her reflection checks her new hair. Joe follows her down the street towards the Spanish Steps. He keeps a safe distance as she waits for
a gap in the traffic, dashing across. She walks up to an icecream vendor nearby, presenting him with some money.
 
ANN. Er, [unsure of the word] Gelato?
Á©¶ó¶Ç?
 
ICECREAM SELLER [nodding] Gelato. [He bends down to scoop up her icecream, all of this watched by Joe from the opposite side of the street].
 
ANN [taking her icecream] Thank you. [She pays him the money].
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
ICECREAM SELLER [calling after her] Senorina. [Hands her her change, speaking some Italian].
¾Æ°¡¾¾, Àܵ·ÀÌ¿ä.
 
ANN. Oh! grazzi.
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
She walks away, licking her icecream. A flower seller catches her attention as she walks past.
 
FLOWER MAN [speaks some Italilan, presenting her with some flowers] It is [some Italian] beautiful lady. [Speaks in Italian, eagerly trying to make the sell, handing her the flowers. She shakes his hand in thanks but he waves his hand, speaking more Italian]... five thousand lira!
¿¹»Û ²ÉÀÌ ÀÖ½À´Ï´Ù. Ä«³×À̼ÇÀÌÁÒ. ±Ý¹æ ¿Â°Ì´Ï´Ù. ½Ì½ÌÇØ¿ä. ¾ó¸¶³ª ¿¹»Þ´Ï±î? 1000¸®¶óÁÒ.
 
ANN [trying to hand them back] No money.
µ·ÀÌ ¾ø¾î¿ä.
 
FLOWER MAN. No? [Some Italian]
800¸®¶ó, µÆÁÒ?
 
ANN. No. [He replies further, in Italian]. I'm sorry, I've really no money.
¹Ì¾ÈÇØ¿ä, Á¤¸» ¾ø¾î¿ä.
 
FLOWER MAN. [Some Italian], if you no, eh? [Some Italian].
³Ê¹« ¸¹¾Æ¿ä? 700. ´õ´Â ±ðÀ»¼ö ¾ø¾î¿ä.
 
ANN. Look [she reaches for her money, showing it to him. Reluctantly, he takes the flowers back] I'm sorry.
¹Ì¾ÈÇØ¿ä.
 
Feeling sorry for her, the flower man pulls a flower out and gives it to her. She offers him her money but he waves his hand, telling her in Italian that she can keep it.
 
ANN [thanking him] Grazzi, grazzi. [She walks away].
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
As Joe watches her from across the street she sits down on one of the ornamentations which divide the width of the steps, licking her icecream. Joe runs up the opposite side, out of view, and then walks across the width of the steps, behind her. He walks down the steps
towards her, and walking past her, looks round pretending that he has just noticed her. 
 
 
JOE. Weeell, it's you!
´ç½ÅÀ̱º¿ä.
 
ANN [looking up at him, smiling] Yes, Mr. Bradley!
ºê·¡µé¸®¾¾.
 
JOE [looking at her hair] Or is it?
¹¹¿¹¿ä?
 
ANN. Do you like it?
¸¾¿¡ µé¾î¿ä?
 
JOE [Sitting down beside her] Yeah... very much. So that was your mysterious appointment?
¾ÆÁÖ ÁÁ±º¿ä. ±×°Ô ºñ¹Ð½º·± ¾à¼ÓÀ̾ú±º¿ä.
 
ANN. Mr. Bradley: I have a confession to make.
ºê·¡µé¸®¾¾, °í¹éÇÒ°Ô ÀÖ¾î¿ä.
 
JOE. Confession?
°í¹é?
 
ANN. Yes, I... ran away last night, from school.
³×, °£¹ã¿¡ Çб³¸¦ µµ¸ÁÃưŵç¿ä.
 
JOE. Oh, what was the matter: trouble with the teacher?
¹«½¼ ÀÏÀ̾úÁÒ? ¼±»ý´Ô°úÀÇ ¹®Á¦?
 
ANN. No, nothing like that.
¾Æ³é¿ä.
 
JOE. Well, you don't just run away from school for nothing.
ÀÌÀ¯°¡ ÀÖÀ»ÅÙµ¥.
 
ANN. Well, it were only meant to be for an hour or two. They gave me something last night to make me sleep.
Çѵν𣸸 ÇѴٴ °ÍÀÌ ¼ö¸éÁ¦¸¦ ¸Ô¾î¼­.
 
JOE [he smiles, realising] Oh, I see.
¾Ë°Ú¾î¿ä.
 
ANN [looking down at the street she finishes her icecream, rubbing her hands clean] Now I'd better get a taxi and go back.
ÀÌÁ¦ Åýß°í °¡¾ß°Ú¾î¿ä.
 
JOE. Well, look: before you do, why don't you take a little time for yourself?
±×·¯±â Àü¿¡ ¸î½Ã°£¸¸ ³»ÁÖ½ÃÁÒ.
 
ANN [shaking her head, unsure] It may be another hour.
Çѽð£Âë ¹Û¿£.
 
JOE [enthusiastically] Live dangerously: take the whole day!
ÇÏ·ç ¿ÂÁ¾ÀÏÀ̸頾¿ä?
 
ANN. I could do some of the things I've always wanted to.
¿øÇÏ´ø°É ÇÒ¼ö ÀÖ¾úÀ¸¸é ÇØ¿ä.
 
JOE. Like what?
¾î¶²°Çµ¥¿ä?
 
ANN. Oh, you can't imagine... I'd, I'd like to do just whatever I'd like, the whole day long! [She laughs].
»ó»ó¸øÇϽǰſ¹¿ä. ¿Â Á¾ÀÏ ÁÁ¾ÆÇϴ °Í¸¸ ÇÏ°í ½Í¾î¿ä.
 
JOE. You mean, things like having your hair cut? Eating gelato?
¸Ó¸®¸¦ ±ð´Â´Ù´ø°¡, Á©¶ó¶Ç¸¦ ¸Ô´Â´Ù´ø°¡?
 
ANN. Yes, and I'd, [looking down to the street] I'd like to sit at a sidewalk cafe; and look in shop windows; walk in the rain! [Joe looks at the blue sky doubtfully] Have fun, and maybe some excitement. It doesn't seem much to you, does it?
³×, ³ë»ó ±îÆä¿¡ ¾É°í ¼îÇÎÀ» ÇÏ°í ºø¼ÓÀ» °È°í. Àç¹Õ°í ¾ÆÁÖ Èï¹Ì·Î¿ï °Å¿¹¿ä. ´ç½Å¿¡°Õ ¾È ±×·±°¡ºÁ¿ä?
 
JOE. It's great. Tell you what: why don't we do all those things-together.
¸ÚÁ®¿ä! ±×·¡¿ä, ÇÔ²² Çغ¸´Â°Ô ¾î¶§¿ä?
 
ANN. But don't you have to work?
ÇÏÁö¸¸ ÀÏÀ» ÇϼžßÀݾƿä.
 
JOE. Work? [Standing up] No! Today's gonna be a holiday.
¿À´ÃÀº ÈÞÀÏÀÏ°Å¿¹¿ä.
 
ANN [playfully] But you'll want to do a lot of silly things.
ÇÏÁö¸¸ ±×·± ÀÏÀ» ÇÏ°í ½ÍÁø ¾ÊÀ¸½ÃÀݾƿä.
 
JOE [taking her hand] Don't I? First wish: one sidewalk cafe, coming right up-I know just the place: [he gently pulls her up, setting off down the steps] Rocca's.
³»°¡¿ä? ³ë»ó±îÆä·Î °¡ÁÒ, ±×·± °÷À» ¾Æ´Ï±î.
 
Joe and Ann sit at a table at Rocca's, watching the traffic go past. Joe sits watching as she eats a bread roll.
 
JOE. What'll the people at school say when they see your new haircut?
Ä¿Æ®ÇÑ ¸Ó¸®¸¦ º¸°í Çб³¿¡¼­ ¹¹¶ö±î¿ä?
 
ANN [laughing] They'll have a fit. What would they say if they knew I'd spent the night in your room?
¹ßÀÛÀ» ÀÏÀ¸Å³°Å¿¡¿ä. ´ç½Å¹æ¿¡¼­ Àä´Ù´Â °É ¾Ë¸é ¹¹¶ö±î¿ä?
 
JOE [he looks around self-consciously, leaning closer, playfully] Well, er, I'll tell you what: you don't tell your folks and I won't tell mine.
´©±¸¿¡°Ôµµ ¸»ÇÏÁö ¸»¾Æ¿ä, ³ªµµ ¾ÈÇÏÁÒ.
 
ANN [smiling] It's a pact.
¾à¼ÓÀÌ¿¹¿ä.
 
JOE. Now, what would you like to drink?
¹» ¸¶½Ç±î¿ä?
 
ANN [casually] Champagne, please.
¼¤ÆäÀÎÀÌ¿ä.
 
JOE [pausing, slightly taken aback at her extravagance; to the waiter walking past] Er, commerierie*, er...
¿þÀÌÅÍ.
 
WAITER [bending down, inbetween Joe and Ann] [Italian], senor?
ÁÖ¹®ÇϽʽÿÀ.
 
JOE. Champagne. [He says something in Italian]. Well, er, champagne [Italian] for the senorina and er, cold coffee for me.
¼¤ÆäÀÎ. ¼÷³à¿¡°Õ ¼¤ÆäÀÎ, ³­ ³ÃÄ¿ÇÇ.
 
[The waiter acknowledges in Italian, bows then leaves].
 
JOE. Must be quite a life you have in that school-champagne for lunch.
±× Çб³´Â ±²ÀåÇÑ °÷À̱º¿ä, Á¡½É¿¡ ¼¤ÆäÀÎÀÌ´Ï.
 
ANN. only on special occasions.
Ưº°ÇÑ °æ¿ì¿¡¿ä.
 
JOE. For instance?
¿¹¸¦ µé¸é?
 
ANN. The last was my father's anniversary.
Àü¹ø¿¡ ¾Æ¹öÁö ±â³äÀÏÀ̾úÁÒ.
 
JOE. Wedding?
°áÈ¥±â³äÀÏ?
 
ANN. No, it was... [hesitating] the fortieth anniversary of, umm... the day he got his job.
¾Æ´¢, Á÷¾÷À» °¡ÁøÁö 40Áֳ⠱â³äÀÏÀ̾úÁÒ.
 
JOE. Forty years on the job; what do you know about that... [Probing her further] What does he do?
ÇÑ Á÷¾÷¿¡ 40³âÀ̶ó! ¹ºÁö ¾Ë°í ÀÖ¾î¿ä?
 
* Probing-¼ÓÀ» Ä³º¸´Â, Ã¶ÀúÇÑ.
 
ANN [thinking, cautiously] Well... mostly you might call it... public relations.
´ëºÎºÐ Èﺸ¶ó°íµé ÇÏÁÒ.
 
JOE. Oh, well, that's hard work.
¾î·Á¿î Á÷¾÷Àε¥.
 
ANN. Yes, I wouldn't care for it.
³­ ¸øÇßÀ»°Å¿¹¿ä.
 
JOE. Does he?
±×·¡¿ä?
 
ANN. I've... heard him complain about it.
ºÒÆòÇϽô °É µéÀº ÀûÀÌ ÀÖÁÒ.
 
JOE. Why doesn't he quit?
¿Ö ±×¸¸µÎ½ÃÁö ¾Ê³ª¿ä?
 
ANN. Well, people in that line of work almost never do quit-unless it's actually unhealthy for them to continue.
±× Á÷¾÷ÀÇ »ç¶÷µéÀº °Ç°­¸¸ Çϸ頾Ƞ±×¸¸µÖ¿ä.
 
JOE [as the waiter delivers the drinks] Uh-huh. Well, here's to his health then.
±×ºÐÀÇ °Ç°­À» À§ÇÏ¿©.
 
ANN [the waiter places a straw by her wine glass] You know: that's what everybody says.
¸ðµÎµé ±×·± ¸»À» ÇÏÁÒ.
 
JOE [after they drink] It's alright?
±¦Âú¾Æ¿ä.
 
ANN [sitting back in her chair, relaxing, playing with the straw] Yes, thank you. What is your work?
³×, ´ç½Å Á÷¾÷Àº¿ä?
 
JOE [now he stammers nervously] Oh, I'm er, in the selling game.
¼¼ÀÏÁî ¸ÇÀÌ¿¡¿ä.
 
ANN. Really? how interesting.
Àç¹ÌÀÖ°Ú±º¿ä.
 
 
JOE. Uh-huh.
 
ANN. What do you sell?
¹» ÆÈÁÒ?
 
JOE [he looks blank for a moment then, on hearing a horse in the street passing by, looks up at it; turning to her] Er, fertilizer; er, chemicals, you know? Chemicals-stuff like that. [Ann is somewhat unconvinced then, putting the straw in her mouth, blows the wrapper
off. Joe looks up as it flies over the table. He smiles at Ann who laughs, very pleased with herself, holding the wrapper in her mouth. Joe looks up, brightly; standing up, shaking his hand as irving comes over]. Irving! Well, am I glad to see you.
ºñ·á, È­ÇоàÇ°, ¾Æ½ÃÁÒ?
¾îºù! ¸¸³ª¼­ ¹Ý°©³×.
 
IRVING [jokingly] Why, did you forget your wallet?
Áö°©Àº ¿Ö Àؾú³ª?
 
JOE [without laughing] Er, pull up a chair, Irving; sit down with us here.
ÀÇÀÚ¸¦ ²ø°í¿Í ¾É°Ô³ª.
 
IRVING. Aren't you gonna introduce me?
¼Ò°³½ÃÄÑÁÖÁö ¾ÊÀ»°Å¾ß?
 
JOE. Er, yes, this is a very good friend of mine, Irving Radovich; [she presents her hand; they shake] Anya: Irving.
Á¦ Ä£±¸ ¾îºù ¶óµµºñÄ¡ÀÌ°í, ÀÌÂÊÀº ¾Ö´Ï¾Æ.
 
IRVING [still holding her hand] Anya...?
¾Ö´Ï¾Æ...?
 
ANN. Smith.
½º¹ÌƼ.
 
IRVING [playfully; pulling up a chair from the next table to use] Oh, hiya Smithy.
¾È³ç, ½º¹ÌƼ.
 
ANN [politely] Charmed [she looks at Joe a little nervously as he puts the chair down next to her; Irving nods to Joe, impressed at her manner].
¸Å·ÂÀûÀ̳׿ä.
 
IRVING [sitting down] Hey, er, anybody tell you you're a dead ringer for... [Joe kicks him in the shin under the table. In pain] Oh! [Confidentially, Joe points a finger at Ann. Confused, Irving stands up] Well er, I guess I'll be going.
´©±¼ ´à¾Ò´Ù°íµé ¾ÈÇØ¿ä?
°¡ºÁ¾ß µÉ °Í °°³×¿ä.
 
JOE. Oh, don't do a thing like that, Irving. Sit down; [pacifying him] join us, join us, join us.
±×·± °Ç »ý°¢¸»±¸, ÇÔ²² ÀÖÁö ±×·¡?
 
* pacify-[È­°¡ ³­ »ç¶÷ µî]À» ´Þ·¡´Ù, ÁøÁ¤½ÃÅ°´Ù, °¡¶ó¾ÉÈ÷´Ù. [³ª¶ó µî]À» È­ÆòÇÏ°Ô ÇÏ´Ù, ¡¦¿¡ ÆòÈ­¸¦ È¸º¹½ÃÅ°´Ù.
 
IRVING [not sure] Well er, just till Fransesca gets here.
±×·³ ÇÁ¶õü½ºÄ«°¡ ¿Ã ¶§±îÁö ÀÖÁö.
 
ANN. Tell me, Mr. er, er, Radovich: er, what is a ringer?
¶óµµºñÄ¡¾¾! ´à´Ù´Ï¿ä?
 
JOE. (IRVING [to the waiter] Oh, er, waiter.) It's an (IRVING. Whiskey, please.) American term and er, (IRVING. Yeah.) and it means, er, anybody who has a great deal of charm. [Irving's look turns to puzzlement, responding with a questioning Hmm?].
¿þÀÌÅÍ?
¹Ì±¹ ¿ë¾îÀε¥ ¾ÆÁÖ ¸Å·ÂÀûÀΠ»ç¶÷À» ¸»ÇÏÁÒ.
 
ANN. Oh. [Politely; interjecting before Irving can ask Joe what he's talking about] Thank you.
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
* interject-[¸» µûÀ§]¸¦ ºÒ¾¦ ³¢¿ö ³Ö´Ù (¸»)Âü°ßÀ» ÇÏ´Ù.ºÒ¾¦ ¸»Âü°ßÇÏ´Ù.
 
IRVING. You're welcome.
õ¸¸ÇØ¿ä.
 
Irving is about to probe Joe again when two women walk past-one puts a hand on his shoulder and the other runs her hand through his hair as they walk past. They greet him with a "Ciao".
 
IRVING [smiling back at them] Er, ciao.
¾È³ç.
 
ANN. Er, M?
 
IRVING [to Ann] Cousins.
»çÃÌÀÌ¿¡¿ä.
 
ANN. Mr. Bradley's just been telling me all about his work.
ºê·¡µé¸®¾¾°¡ ¾÷¹« ¾ê±æ ÇØÁֽô ÁßÀ̾ú¾î¿ä.
 
IRVING. Mmm, I'd like to have heard that.
³ªµµ ±×·± ¾ê±æ µè°í ½Í¾úÁÒ.
 
ANN. What do you do?
¹¹ÇϽô ºÐÀ̼¼¿ä?
 
IRVING. I'm the same rank as [Joe starts coughing, holding his glass closer to Irving] Joe only I'm a photo... [Joe spills his glass over Irving. He stands up angry as Ann tries to dry him with a napkin].
ÁÒ¿Í °°Àº ºÎ¼­¿¡ ÀÖÁÒ.
 
JOE. I'm awfully sorry, Irving!
Á¤¸» ¹Ì¾ÈÇϳ×.
 
IRVING [barely keeping his manners] W-w-wha-? What are you?
¹«½¼ ÁþÀ̾ß?
 
JOE. I'm sorry, Irving.
¹Ì¾ÈÇϳ×, ¾îºù.
 
IRVING [to Joe] Look, I can take a hint! [Bowing, smiling, presenting his hand to Ann] I'll see you around.
ÈùÆ®¸¦ Áà¾ßÁö.
¶Ç ºË°Ú½À´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN. Oh, but your drink's just here; please sit down.
¸¶½Ç°Ô ¿Ô´Âµ¥¿ä.
 
JOE. Yes, here's your drink right now, Irving; take it easy [Irving looks at Joe, unsure about trusting him]. I'm sorry about that. Sit down, that's a good fellow [the waiter puts down Irving's drink and leaves] (Something*).
¾îºù, ÁøÁ¤ÇÏ°Ô. ¹Ì¾ÈÇϳ×, ¾É°Ô³ª. ±×·±°Ô Ä£±¸Àݳª?
 
IRVING [sitting down] You're t... [sitting down; stopping to wipe the chair dry] You're twisting my arm, you know.
ÆÈÀ» ºñƲ¾ú¾úÀݾÆ.
 
JOE [trying to communicate to Irving what can't say aloud] Just- just be a little more careful not to spill...
È긮Áö ¾ÊÀ¸·Á¸é Á» ´õ Á¶½ÉÇؾßÁö.
 
IRVING. Spill?! Who's been doin' the spilling?
´©°¡ Èê·Á?
 
JOE. You.
³Ê.
 
IRVING. Me?!
³ª?
 
JOE [with a half-laugh] Yeah.
 
IRVING [to Ann] Where did you find this looney? [Smiling at her, remembering his manners, holding his glass up to toast] You're ok; here's to you, huh? Here's hopin' for the best. [Pausing, looking between Ann and Joe] If it, if it wasn't for that hair, I- I- I'd
swear that... [Joe kicks his chair back and Irving falls to the ground. Ann screams in shock. Two men help him up, muttering words in Italian].
ÀÌ·± ¹ÌÄ¡±¤À̸¦ ¾îµð¼­ ¾Ë¾ÒÁÒ? ±¦Âú¾Æ¿ä? ´ç½ÅÀ» À§ÇÏ¿©! ±Ã±ÝÇÑ°Ô Àִµ¥¿ä. ±× ¸Ó¸®¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó¸é, ¸Í¼¼ÄÁµ¥...
 
IRVING [as they pull him up] Thanks.
°í¸¿¼Ò.
 
JOE [as him and Ann rush over to help] You slipped, Irving. Slipped?-you almost hurt yourself that time!
¹Ì²ô·¯Á³³×, ´ÙÄ¥»· ÇßÀݾÆ.
 
IRVING [losing control] I slipped?! (JOE. Yes.), I almost hurt myself?! Joe, I didn't slip!
¹Ì²ô·¯Á®? ´ÙÄ¥»· Çß´Ù±¸? ÁÒ, ³­ ¾È ¹Ì²ô·¯Á³¾î.
 
JOE [leading him away from Ann, pretending to examine his neck] ...got a bad sprain there.
Àú±â Á» °¡Áö.
 
IRVING [pushing his arms of him] Never mind I got a bad sprain, Joe.
¹ß¸ñ »á °Ç »ó°ü¸»±¸.
 
JOE [motioning to the cafe building] You'd better go in here and get it fixed up.
 
IRVING [going with him willingly] Well, yeah, I'd like to?
 
JOE [back to Ann; walking to the door, his arm around Irving's shoulder as if he needs help] Will you excuse us for a minute?
Àá±ñ ½Ç·ÊÇصµ µÇÁÒ?
 
ANN [standing helpless] Yes, of course; I- I'm so sorry.
¹°·ÐÀÌ¿¡¿ä, Á¤¸» ¹Ì¾ÈÇØ¿ä.
 
Joe leads him to the back of the cafe, holding him around the shoulders, as Irving continues to argue.
 
IRVING. Now wait, now wait; just a minute; let? look, Joe, what are you tryin' to do? now take your hands off?
Àá±ñ! ÀÌÁ¦ ±×¸¸ Á» ¹Ð°Ô.
 
JOE [reaching the back, in some privacy] Have you got your letter?
¶óÀÌÅÍ ÀÖ³ª?
 
IRVING. What's that got to do with it?
¹«½¼ ÀÏÀ̾ß?
 
JOE. Have you got it?
 
IRVING. Yeah! but what are you tryin' to do to me?
³¯´õ·¯ ¹» Ç϶ó±¸?
 
JOE [firmly, as Irving tries to pull his arm away] Listen: what would you do for five grand?
5õ¥¸® ±âȸ°¡ Àִٸ頹» ÇÒ·¡?
 
IRVING [he ceases struggling] Five grand?
5õ?
 
JOE. Yeah. [Pulling him down into a seat, reaching for a chair for himself, sitting down. Speaking in low tones] Now, she doesn't know who I am or what I do. Look, Irving, this is my story; I dug it up, I gotta protect it!
±×³à´Â ³»°¡ ´©±ºÁöµµ ¸ô¶ó. Æ¯Á¾°¨À̾ß, ³»°¡ ¹ß±¼ÇßÁö.
 
IRVING. She's really the?
±×³à°¡ Á¤¸»?
 
JOE [looking around anxiously] Ssssh! [Quietly] Your tin-types are gonna make this little epic twice as valuable.
ÀÚ³× »çÁø±â°¡ µÎ¹è³ª ´õ °¡Ä¡ÀÖ°Ô ¸¸µé°Å¾ß.
 
IRVING [musing] 'The Princess Goes Slumming'.
'ºó¹Î°¡ÀÇ °øÁÖ'
 
JOE. You're in for twenty-five percent of the take.
ÀÚ³×°¡ 25% °®°Ô.
 
IRVING. And it takes five G?
5õºÒÀ̶ó¸ç?
 
JOE. Minimum-Henessey shook hands on it.
ÃÖÀú°¡Áö, Çì³×½Ã°¡ µ¿ÀÇÇß³×.
 
IRVING [counting in his head] ...seven, five; that's- that's fifteen hundred dollars!
5õÀÇ 25%¸é 1500À̱º.
 
JOE [sternly] It's twelve-fifty.
1,250!
 
* sternly-¾ö°ÝÇÏ°Ô, ÁؾöÇÏ°Ô.
 
IRVING. Ok, now you shake.
ÁÁ¾Æ, ¾Ç¼öÇÏÁö.
 
JOE [shaking his hand as they stand up] Ok, now, lend me thirty thousand.
±×·³ 3¸¸ ºô·ÁÁÖ°Ô.
 
IRVING. Thirty th? That's fifty bucks; you gonna buy the crown jewels?
±×°Ç ¿À½Ê´Þ·¯ÀݾÆ. º¸¼® ¿Õ°üÀ» »ç·Á´Â°Å¾ß?
 
JOE. She's out there now drinking champagne that I can't pay for. We got to entertain her, don't we?
¼¤ÆäÀΠ°ªÀÌ ¾øÀݾÆ.
 
IRVING. Joe: we can't go running around town with a... hot princess!
°øÁÖ¸¦ µ¥¸®°í ½Ã³»¸¦ µ¹¾Æ´Ù´Ò¼ø ¾ø¾î.
 
JOE. Ssh, you want in on this deal or don't you?
°Å·¡¸¦ ¿øÇÏÁö ¾Ê³ª?
 
IRVING [his gives him the money] This I want back Saturday.
Åä¿äÀÏ¿¡ µ¹·ÁÁÖ°Ô.
 
JOE. Ok, now where's your lighter? [Irving pulls it out] Let's go to work.
ÁÁ¾Æ, ¶óÀÌÅʹ ¾îµø³ª?
ÀÌÁ¦ ÀÏÇÏ·¯ °¡Áö.
 
Irving and Joe file out of the cafe and back out to the table where Ann sits drinking her champagne, observing the waiter who clears the table.
 
ANN [hearing them come back out, exchanging smiles with Joe] Better now?
ÀÌÁ¦ ³ª¾Ò¾î¿ä?
 
IRVING. Huh?
 
ANN [to Irving] Your ear.
±Í ¸»ÀÌ¿¡¿ä.
 
IRVING [as Joe sits; holding his ear] My ear? Oh, yeah, er, Joe fixed it. [He sits; offering her a cigarette from a packet] Er, would you care for a cigarette?
±Í? ÁÒ°¡ °íÃÄÁá¾î¿ä. ´ã¹è Å¿ì°Ú¾î¿ä?
 
ANN. Yes, please. [She takes one; smiling to Joe] You won't believe this but it's my very first.
³×. ¸ø¹Ï°ÚÁö¸¸ Ã³À½ ÇÇ¿ì´Â °Å¶ó±¸¿ä.
 
JOE [knowingly to Irving] Your very first?
óÀ½À̶󱸿ä?
 
ANN. Mm-hm.
 
IRVING [nodding to Joe] Oh.
 
JOE. No, er, smoking in school, hmm?
Çб³¿¡¼­´Â ±Ý¿¬Àΰ¡¿ä?
 
IRVING. Your first cigarette... [he flicks a switch on the lighter, turning a tiny wheel on the top. After a pause he switches the lighter on]. There; gizmo works [he lights Ann's cigarette and she puffs].
ù¹ø° ´ã¹è.
°£´ÜÇÑ ÀÛÇ°À̱º.
 
JOE. Well, what's the verdict, er... ok?
¾î¶§¿ä? ±¦Âú¾Æ¿ä?
 
* verdict-<¹ý·ü> (¹è½É¿øÀÇ) Æò°á, ´ä½Å(ÓÍãé).
 
ANN [she takes the cigarette out; smiling] Nothing to it.
¾Æ¹«·¸Áöµµ ¾ÊÀºµ¥¿ä.
 
IRVING [laughing] That's right: nothing to it.
¸Â¾Æ¿ä. ¾Æ¹«·¸Áöµµ ¾ÊÁÒ.
 
JOE [to the waiter at the next table] Er, commerierie, [he says something in Italian to the waiter, taking out some money].
¿þÀÌÅÍ, °è»ê¼­.
 
IRVING [moving his chair round slightly to be more in front of Ann] Stretch my legs a little, here.
´Ù¸®¸¦ Á» »¸À»²²¿ä.
 
ANN [to Irving] Hm. [She takes another puff of the cigarette].
 
JOE [as Irving takes a cigarette himself] I'll pick this one up, Irving.
³»°¡ ³¾²².
 
IRVING. Yeah, you can afford it [he holds the lighter in position again, waiting].
±×·¯½Ã°Ô³ª.
 
JOE [as he pays the waiter] Well, what shall we do next? Shall we, er, make out a little schedule?
´ÙÀ½¿£ ¹» ÇÒ±î¿ä? ½ºÄÉÁÙ Á» Àâ¾Æº¼±î¿ä?
 
ANN [turning to Joe] Oh, not that word, please.
±×·± ¸»Àº ¸¶¼¼¿ä.
 
JOE [he thanks the waiter in Italian; to Ann, quickly] Oh, I didn't work sche- school schedule-I meant, er, fun schedule.
¼ö¾÷ ½ºÄÉÁÙÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó ³îÀÌ ½ºÄÉÁÙ ¸»ÀÌ¿¡¿ä.
 
ANN [laughs] Yes, let's just go, huh?
³×, ±×³É °¡¿ä.
 
JOE. How about you, Irving: are you ready?
ÀÚ³Ù ¾î¶²°¡? ÁغñµÆÁö?
 
IRVING [as Ann puts the cigarette back in her mouth Irving flicks something on the lighter again] Er, yeah.
±×·¡.
 
JOE [he and Irving rise] Let's go [Ann puts out the cigarette in the tray and rises also].
°¡ÀÚ±¸.
 
As Irving pulls Ann's chair out for her a woman comes up behind him and greets him in Italian.
 
IRVING [he takes out his cigarette to greet her] Francesca. Oh, er, this is...
ÇÁ¶õü½ºÄ«! ¿©±ä...
 
ANN. Smithy.
½º¹ÌƼ.
 
JOE. She's a grand girl, Irving [shakes Francesca's hand], grand-Er, five grand, Irving. [He takes Ann by the hand, leading her away] Ciao.
1000ºÒÂ¥¸®³×, ¾îºù, 5õÀ̶ó±¸.
 
IRVING [calling to him as he leaves] Joe!
 
FRANCESCA. But where are you going now?
¾îµð°¡´Â °Å¿¹¿ä?
 
IRVING. Honey, I got to work. I'll call you at night [he kisses her, and runs across the road to catch up to Joe and Ann].
ÀÏÇÏ·¯ °¡¾ßÇØ. ¿À´Ã¹ã ÀüÈ­ÇÒ²².
 
The airport. A large four-engined plane with a Royal crest on its side taxis in. It is observed nervously by the General and the Ambassador who watch, sitting down, from an observation room. A stair opens out at the rear of the plane and some men start leaving
the plane, one after the other, greeted at the bottom as they walk by by some officials. Suddenly, the Ambassador jumps to his feet, then the General stands up. They look out at the runway, frowning, at a long line of a dozen or more of the men filing away from the
plane, dressed in black suits and hats.
 
AMBASSADOR. Look at those men! They were supposed to be inconspicuous.
Àú »ç¶÷µé º¸°Ô! ´«¿¡ ¶çÁö ¸»¾Æ¾ßÁö.
 
GENERAL. You asked for plain clothes. [The Ambassador glances at him with raised eyebrows].
Æò»óº¹À» ÀÔÀ¸¶ó°í ÇϽÃÁÒ.
 
In the city, Joe drives along the streets on a little Vespa scooter; Princess Ann riding side-saddle on the back, her arms wrapped around his waist. She looks out smiling at the sights as they drive to the Colliseum, looming up before them.
 
 
They walk inside the Colliseum, accompanied by a guide who points to the structure, instructing Ann. Joe follows just behind them, being joined now by Irving. They walk to the edge, looking down over the centre of the structure. Ann listens to guide, watched on by Joe and Irving who lights up a cigarette. Holding the lighter, Irving signals secretly to Joe who acknowledges him with a private signal of his own.
 
Back on the streets of Rome and Joe and Ann ride along on the scooter, followed by Irving in a small open-topped car. Irving overtakes them and, as Joe points out the sights to Ann, he takes pictures out of the back of the vehicle, barely regaining control of
the vehicle afterwards.
 
Joe and Ann drive to a large intersection, where the traffic is directed by a warden who blows his whistle at them. Nearby, Irving pulls up, his eye on Joe and Ann. Joe and Ann get off the scooter as Joe goes to talk to the warden. Irving gets out of his car, peering
round a streeet corner at them, a camera in hand.
 
Seeing Joe busy, Ann gets back onto the scooter herself, curious to test out the feel of the handlebars. Irving snaps a picture of her as she gingerly tests the controls. Suddenly, Ann lets out a shriek of fright as the scooter takes off. Joe turns round and,
excusing himself from the warden, goes after her. Irving looks on, helpless.
 
Ann drives the scooter erratically along the side of the road, scaring some pedestrians who are crossing the road who leap back onto the pavement. Joe, running after her, calls out to her to stop.
 
Irving runs back to the car. Ann, in sheer delight, keeps driving as Joe, laughing, jumps on the back of the scooter. The scooter suddenly goes at speed down the street, turning a corner, scaring more pedestrians out of the way.
 
JOE [putting his hands on the handlebars] Let me take this; let me take over.
³»°¡ Àâ¾Æ ÁÙ²²¿ä.
 
ANN [pushing his hands out of the way, putting hers on top] No, no, no; I- I can do it.
³­, ³­ ¸øÇØ¿ä.
 
The scooter drives head-on into the traffic, going slower now, and delicately missing a car and bicycle. A tram honks at them as they drive across its path and it swerves to avoid them. Irving follows them with difficulty through the traffic, his visibility impaired as he passes through a stream of water coming from a hydrant.
 
Ann mounts the pavement, driving between some people at a stall through a painting one of them is showing to the others. They drive through a sidewalk cafe, weaving between the tables as the diners get up, outraged at the disturbance. Ann continues on, knocking over
a builder's workbench where a large man is setting up his equipment.
 
Children run in to help him pick the materials up, blocking Irving's car in the process. Ann drives chaotically around a roundabout, scaring a woman who screams and jumps out of the way, dropping her groceries.
 
Police whistles ring out as the Polizia get into their cars, joining two motorbikes which give chase to Ann and Joe's scooter.
 
Ann and Joe tear away down the street, followed the motorbikes, their sirens wailing.
 
Sometime later and Ann, Joe, and Irving stand in a room before a judge sitting at a table. In front of the judge are arranged the various victims of Ann and Joe's escapade, giving their testimonies and presenting their damaged goods as evidence. Ann and Joe answer the various questions of the judge then Joe presents him with his I.D., holding his head awkwardly back for the judge since that way it better matches the photo. The judge looks at the front of the I.D.: it says American News Service. Joe tells the judge something, putting his arm around Ann to perhaps better convince him. Irving intervenes, telling the judge something or other, although the judge looks unimpressed with what he has to say. Joe points out something to the judge on what he is looking at on his desk to which the judge reacts favorably. Irving, Ann and Joe-hand-in-hand, leave; Joe telling them something or other, saying goodbye to the witnesses and they smile back.
 
 
The three leave the police station laughing, stopping quickly on seeing the guard posted outside.
 
IRVING [as they walk by the guard] Oh... [coughs] I'm going straight from now on.
ÀÌÁ¦ºÎÅÏ ¼ÖÁ÷ÇØÁö°Ú¾î.
 
They walk out of earshot then stop, Ann turning to Joe, puzzled.
 
ANN. American News Service? What did he mean?
¾Æ¸Þ¸®Ä« ´º½º! ¹«½¼ Àǹ̿´ÁÒ?
 
JOE. Huh? Oh, well, you know: say you're with the Press and you can get away with anything.
¹¹³Ä±¸¿ä? ±âÀÚµé°ú Àִٴ ¶æÀÌÁÒ.
 
IRVING [laughing] Yeah... ha! go to church to get married on a scooter-that's a hot one. Joe's a wonderful liar! [Ann looks at them, puzzled].
½ºÄíÅ͸¦ Å¸°í °áÈ¥½ÄÀ» ÇÏ·¯ ±³È¸¿¡ °£´Ù. °ÅÁþ¸»ÀïÀÌ!
 
The witnesses come out of the station together, congratulating them, shaking Joe's and Ann's hands as they pass. The large man kisses Ann on the mouth and then turns to Joe, kissing him on each cheek. He turns to Irving but, on seeing Irving's beard and thinking
better of it, shakes his hand instead.
 
IRVING [slightly taken aback; as the man leaves, following the others] Ciao...
 
ANN [to Joe] You don't have to look so worried; I won't hold you to it.
±×·¸°Ô °ÆÁ¤½º·¯¿ö ÇÒ °Í ¾ø¾î¿ä.
 
JOE. Thank you very much.
°í¸¿±º¿ä.
 
ANN. You don't have to be too grateful!
°¨»çÇØÇÒ °Íµµ ¾ø±¸¿ä.
 
JOE [smiling] Ok, I won't [in good spirits, they walk away].
¾Ë¾Ò¾î¿ä.
 
ANN [stopping] I'm a good liar too, aren't I, Mr. Bradley?
Àúµµ °ÅÁþ¸»ÀïÀ̴ϱî¿ä.
 
JOE. The best I ever met.
ÃÖ°íÀÇ °ÅÁþ¸»ÀïÀÌÁÒ.
 
IRVING [dramatically] Uh-huh!
 
ANN. Thank you very much.
Á¤¸» °í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
JOE [looking over at a building in the distance] Say... come with me.
ÇÔ²² °¡¿ä.
 
Joe takes her arm, leading her away.
 
They arrive in a small, dark building. They walk inside and up to a large stone carving of a face in the wall.
 
JOE. The Mouth of Truth. [He stands on one side, Ann the other. Irving watches from behind, taking out another cigarette] The legend is that if you're given to lying, you put you're hand in there [points to the mouth] it'll be bitten off.
Áø½ÇÀÇ ÀÔÀÌÁÒ, °ÅÁþ¸»À» Çϸ頼ÕÀ» ¹°¾î¹ö¸°´ë¿ä.
 
ANN. Ooh, what a horrid idea.
²ûÂïÇϱº¿ä.
 
JOE. Let's see you do it.
Çغ¸¼¼¿ä.
 
She looks up worried, but seeing Joe looking at her feels a resolve and, tentatively, she puts her hand towards the mouth. Irving, "lighting" his cigarette, looks on. Ann moves her hand, closer and closer but, losing her nerve at the last minute with a giggle, she pulls it back.
 
ANN. Let's see you do it.
´ç½ÅÀÌ ÇØ¿ä.
 
JOE [he looks worried for a moment, then finds his nerve] Sure.
±×·¯ÁÒ.
 
 
Joe takes a step forward, moving his hand onto the lip of the mouth. Ann, unblinking, leans foward from the tension. Joe slides his fingers into the mouth and then his hand up to the wrist.
 
Suddenly he gives out a loud cry, pulling back, as if the mouth has hold of his hand and won't let go. Ann screams and rushes to his side, pulling at him from behind. Joe takes out his hand, apprently severed at the wrist and Ann screams in fright, putting her hands
over her face. Smiling, he lets his hand spring open, out of his sleeve.
 
ANN [laughing, as Joe takes her in his arms as she throws herself toward him, playfully beating her fists at him] You beast! it was perfectly alright! You've never hurt your hand!
Á¤¸» ³ªºü¿ä! ¾Æ¹«°Íµµ ¾Æ´Ï¾úÀݾƿä.
 
JOE [letting her go] I'm sorry, it was just a joke! Alright?
¹Ì¾È, Àå³­À̾ú¾î¿ä.
 
ANN [laughing still] You've never hurt your hand.
¼ÕÀ» ´ÙÄ£ÁÙ ¾Ë¾Ò¾î¿ä.
 
JOE [calming her] I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Ok?
¹Ì¾ÈÇØ¿ä, µÆÁÒ?
 
ANN [regaining her composure] Yes.
 
JOE. Alright, let's go. [They turn to leave and he cries out, jumping away from the Mouth] Look out!
°¡ÁÒ, Á¶½É!
 
Ann screams, running out of the building. Joe follows her, laughing, followed by Irving.
 
Later on, Irving pulls up on a quiet street.
 
IRVING [to Joe as he stands up to climb out of the car] I'll park at the corner.
Äڳʿ¡ ÁÖÂ÷ÇÒ²².
 
Joe opens Ann's door and she climbs out. Joe is about to climb out of the open-roofed car but seeing Ann holding the door for him bends down under the rim of the door, barely squeezing through. Ann smiles at him as he struggles out. As Irving drives away, Joe follows Ann as she walks across the wide footpath, stopping before the huge wall covered top to bottom with small plaques. A little further up the footpath there is a woman kneeling down at a small prayer bench who stands up, crossing herself before leaving.
 
ANN. What do they mean, all these inscriptions?
ÀÌ ºñ¹®µéÀº ¹» ¶æÇϳª¿ä?
 
JOE [walking with her alongside the wall] Well, each one represents a wish fulfilled. All started during the war when there was an air raid-right out here. A man with his four children was caught in the street. They ran over against the wall, [pointing behind them] right there, for shelter; prayed for safety. Bombs fell very close, but no one was hurt. Later on, the man came back and he put up the first of these tablets. Since then it's become sort of a shrine: people come, and whenever their wishes are granted [stopping, turning round to look back] they put up another one of these little plaques.
¼Ò¸ÁÀÌ ÀÌ·ç¾îÁ³À½À» ³ªÅ¸³»ÁÒ. ¹Ù·Î ¿©±â¼­ °ø½ÀÀÌ ÀÖ¾ú´ø ÀüÀï Áß¿¡ ½ÃÀÛµÆÁÒ. ³× ¾ÆÀÌÀÇ ¾Æ¹öÁö°¡ °Å¸®¿¡¼­ ÀâÈ÷ÀÚ ¾ÆÀ̵éÀº Àú º®À¸·Î ´Þ·Á°¡ ÇǽÅó¿Í ¾ÈÀüÀ» ±¸Çß´ë¿ä. ÆøźÀÌ ¶³¾îÁ®µµ ¾È´ÙÃƾî¿ä. ±×ÈÄ ±×ºÐÀ̠ùºñ¹®À» »õ°åÁÒ. ±×¶§ºÎÅÍ ¼ºÁö°¡ µÇ¾î ¸ðµÎµé ¼Ò¸ÁÀ» ½á³Ö°Ô µÇ¾úÁÒ.
 
ANN [looking back along the wall] Lovely story.
¾Æ¸§´Ù¿î À̾߱ⱺ¿ä.
 
JOE [taking her arm, directing her over to the wall] Read some of the inscriptions. [Irving stands beside the wall, holding his camera, "lighting" another cigarette. She walks over and looks at some of the plaques for a moment]. Make a wish [looking down, she
nods]. Tell the doctor?
¸î°³ ÀоÁÒ.
¼Ò¸ÁÀÌ ÀÖ¾î¿ä? Àǻ翡°Ô ¸»Çß´ø?
 
ANN [turning around] Anyway, the chances of it being granted are very slight.
¾î·µç ÁÖ¾îÁø ±âȸ°¡ ³Ê¹« À۾ƿä.
 
IRVING [walking to them] Well, what now?
Áö±ÝÀº ¾î¶§¿ä?
 
ANN [hopefully] I've heard of a wonderful place for dancing on a boat.
¹èÀ§¿¡¼­ ÃãÃá´Ù´Â ¾ê±æ µé¾ú´Âµ¥¿ä.
 
JOE. Oh, you mean the barges down by Saint Angelo.
»óÆ® ¾ÈÁ©·ÎÀÇ À¯¶÷¼± ¸»Àΰ¡¿ä?
 
ANN [excitedly] Yes! couldn't we go over tonight?
±×·¡¿ä, ¿À´Ã¹ã¿¡ °¥ ¼ö ÀÖ³ª¿ä?
 
IRVING. Hey, why not?
±×·³¿ä!
 
JOE. Anything you wish.
¿øÇϽô °Ç ´Ù µË´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN. And at midnight I'll turn into a pumpkin and drive away in my glass slipper.
±×·³ ÀÚÁ¤¿¡ À¯¸®±¸µÎ¸¦ ´øÁö°Ú¾î¿ä.
 
JOE. And that'll be the end of the fairytale. [To Irving] Well, I guess, er, Irving has to go now.
µ¿È­ÀÇ ³¡Àå¸éÀ̷αº.
¾îºùÀº ÀÌÁ¦ °¡¾ßµÉ°É¿ä.
 
IRVING. I do?
³»°¡?
 
JOE. Yes, you know, that big business development of yours that you have to attend to.
Çö»ó »ç¾÷¿¡ Âü°üÇؾßÀݳª.
 
IRVING. Ah... [he remembers] oh, the development.
Çö»ó?
 
JOE. Yes, can't afford not to take care of that.
±×·±°Å ½Å°æ¾µ ¿©À¯°¡ ¾øÀ»ÅÙµ¥.
 
IRVING. Yeah. Er, I'll, er, [shaking her hand] see ya later, Smithy.
À̵û ºÄ¿ä, ½º¹ÌƼ.
 
ANN. Good luck for the big development.
Çà¿îÀÌ Àֱ⸦.
 
IRVING [waving as he leaves] Yeah, thanks.
 
Ann smiles after Irving as he leaves. They hear the sound of horses' hooves on the road approaching and turn round to look. Joe looks back at her, asking, then she nods, smiling. Joe whistles at the driver and they walk over to the carriage as it stops, getting on.
 
Evening, it is dark. Music greets Joe and Ann as they walk down the steps on the way to the barges. He pays the ticketseller as Ann stands, watching the dancing across the river.
 
JOE [to the ticketseller] Grazzi. [He walks over to Ann, smiling to her and they continue].
 
They walk onto the dance floor and start dancing.
 
Two men in black suits and hats-Secret Service men-watch out over the people. one of them turns to watch the dance floor and notices Joe and Ann, watching them as they dance. The Secret Service man stands on his feet and the other looks over at what he is watching.
 
As the music stops for the next song, the man speaks some Italian to the other who leaves, and continues watching as the next dance starts. The other man runs back towards the steps, away from the dancers.
 
Joe and Ann continue dancing-closer now as it is a slower song.
 
She rests her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed and smiling. She looks up at him.
 
 
ANN. Hello.
¾È³ç.
 
JOE [as they look at each other] Hello.
¾È³ç.
 
Joe smiles as she rests her head against his chest and they continue.
 
The band finishes the dance and the audience claps, the dancers on the floor dispersing. Joe and Ann walk over to the side of the floor.
 
ANN [looking up to him as she sits down] Mr. Bradley: if you don't mind my saying so, I think you are a ringer.
ºê·¡µé¸®¾¾. ´ç½Å... "´à¾Ò¾î¿ä"
 
JOE [confused] Oh? wha... [Understanding, smiling; sitting down] Oh. Thanks very much.
¹¹¿ä? ³×, °í¸¿±º¿ä.
 
ANN. You spent the whole day doing things I've always wanted to. Why?
¿ÂÁ¾ÀÏ Á¦°¡ ÇÏ°í ½Í¾ú´ø °Í¸¸ ÇØÁ̴ּµ¥. ¿ÖÁÒ?
 
JOE [guiltily] I don't know. Seemed the thing to do.
ÇؾßÇÒ °Í °°¾ÒÁÒ.
 
ANN. I never heard of anybody so kind.
¸Å¿ì Ä£ÀýÇϽñº¿ä.
 
JOE [he looks down, hiding his guilt] Wasn't any trouble.
¹®Á¦°¡ µÇ³ª¿ä?
 
ANN. Also completely unselfish.
¾Æ´Ï¸é ³Ê¹« ÀÌŸÀûÀΠ°ÇÁö.
 
JOE [Joe looks over to the other side of the barge, motioning to Ann] Let's have a drink at the bar. [Joe takes her hand and they walk over].
¹Ù¿¡¼­ ¼úÀ̳ª ¸¶½ÃÁÒ.
 
MARIO DELANI [turns to Ann, smiling] Oh! Finalmentez: there you are! [Remembering his manners to the woman apparently accompanying him] Er, scusatmitanto. [Turning immediately back to Ann] I look for you long time-I think maybe you not come [he pauses, noticing Joe
standing just behind her, watching. He motions to her hair]. Ah, off; all off!
µåµð¾î ¿À¼Ì±º¿ä. ÇÑÂü Ã£¾ÆºÃ¾î¿ä. ¾È ¿À½Ã´Â ÁÙ ¾Ë¾Ò¾î¿ä.
À߶ó¿ä, ÀüºÎ À߶ó¿ä.
 
ANN. Oh, it's nice without, isn't it? Cool.
À߶󵵠º¸±â ÁÁÁÒ? ½Ã¿øÇØ¿ä.
 
MARIO DELANI. Oh, very, very good.
Á¤¸» ÁÁ±º¿ä.
 
ANN [introducing him] Mr. Bradley.
¿©±ä ºê·¡µé¸®¾¾.
 
MARIO DELANI. I, Mario Delani.
¸¶¸®¿À µå ¶ó´ÏÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
JOE. Old friends?
¿¾³¯ Ä£±¸?
 
ANN. Oh, yes; he cut my hair this afternoon. He invited me here, tonight.
¿ÀÈÄ¿¡ ¸Ó¸®¸¦ À߶óÁÖ¾úÁÒ. ¿À´Ã¹ã ÃÊ´ëÇØ ÁØ °Å¿¹¿ä.
 
JOE [to Mario] Wha- what did you say the name was?
À̸§ÀÌ ¹¹·¨ÁÒ?
 
MARIO DELANI [shaking Joe's hand] Delani, Mario Delani.
¸¶¸®¿À µå ¶ó´Ï.
 
JOE. Mario Delani, I'm very glad to know you.
¸¶¸®¿À µå ¶ó´Ï, ¾Ë°Ô µÇ¾î ±â»Ú±º¿ä.
 
MARIO DELANI [the band starts playing again] Me too. [To Ann, using his hands, unsure of his English] Oh, may I enjoy myself, er, the pleasure? [To Joe] Do you mind?
Àúµµ¿ä. Á» Áñ°Üµµ µÇ°ÚÁÒ?
±¦ÂúÀ¸½ÃÁÒ?
 
JOE. No, no; go right ahead.
±×·³¿ä, °¡¼¼¿ä.
 
MARIO DELANI. Thank you.
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
Ann takes his hand and they go out on the floor to dance. Joe, watches them dancing for a moment then takes out a notebook, quickly writing something down. Irving arrives at the bottom of the steps, saying something in Italian and holding up his camera as he walks
past. He walks towards the barges. The Secret Service man watches Ann as she dances with Mario.
 
IRVING [to Joe, at the bar] Ciao, Joe. Did I miss anything?
ÁÒ, ³õÄ£ °Ç ¾øÁö?
 
JOE [quietly] You're just in time, pal.
¶§ ¸ÂÃç ¿Ô³×.
 
IRVING. Who's Smithy dancing with?
°°ÀÌ ÃãÃߴ »ç¶÷Àº ´©±¸Áö?
 
JOE. Barber-cut her hair this afternoon, made a date for tonight.
À̹߻ç! ¿ÀÈÄ¿¡ ¸Ó¸®¸¦ ±ð¾Æ Áá´ë, µ¥ÀÌÆ® ¾à¼Óµµ Çϱ¸.
 
IRVING [musing as he watches them] 'The Princess and the Barber'. [Mario and Ann continue dancing, having a great time.]
°øÁÖ¿Í À̹߻ç?
 
Irving walks around the other side of the bar, his camera placed on the table, Joe hiding it from the view of the floor. The barman protests but Irving reassures him, keeping his eyes on Ann. Irving watches, waiting, and then, with a signal, Joe jumps away and the
bulb flashes as Irving takes the picture. In an instant Joe jumps back, nonchalantly looking up at the sky while Irving takes his glass, doing the same.
 
Ann looks out across the floor and then, seeing Joe and Irving, waves. Irving lifts his glass in acknowledgement. on the bridge, up above the dancing, several cars pull up. Several men climb out, rushing over to the steps. The first Secret Service man, smoking a cigarette, watches the men approach. The men walk over to the tables.
 
Ann continues dancing with Mario who suddenly stops, looking at her hair.
 
ANN. What is it?
¿Ö±×·¡¿ä?
 
MARIO DELANI. Moment.
Àá±ñ¸¸.
 
He stops, thinking, and then, taking out a comb, brushes her fringe apart which he delicately curls around with his comb into two neat tufts. He puts his comb away, satisfied. Ann moves to touch her hair but Mario quickly motions her to leave it
alone and they continue dancing. one of the Secret Service men stands leaning against a structure, swinging his hand to the beat, smiling. The man watching behind rebukes him with a word and his £åxpression turns serious as he pulls his hat down, putting his hands in his pockets, looking out again over the dancing.
 
The music stops and everyone applauds the musicians.
 
MARIO DELANI. Thank you. [The first Secret Service man comes over to Ann then Mario, seeing him, says something to Ann in Italian, then "Bye", and leaves her to him].
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
Àß°¡¿ä.
 
Ann smiles slightly but nervously to the man and they start to dance. They turn several times, then the man speaks in her ear.
 
SECRET SERVICE MAN. Your Highness. [She looks at up him sharply, and tries to pull away but he holds her] You'll dance quietly towards the entrance. There is a car waiting.
°øÁÖ´Ô. ÀÔ±¸ÂÊÀ¸·Î Á¶¿ëÈ÷ °¡½ÃÁÒ. Â÷°¡ ´ë±âÁßÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN [desperately; trying to pull away] No.
½È¾î.
 
SECRET SERVICE MAN. Your Highness, please.
°øÁÖ´Ô, ¾î¼­¿ä.
 
ANN [as he forces her over to the side] You- you've made a mistake. [Tells him in Italian, pretending, that she doesn't speak English] Let me go. [Loudly] Will you let me go! [Shouting] Mr. Bradley! [Joe looks up and starts toward her, looking for her in the
dancers] Let me go, will you? Mr. Bradley!
½Ç¼öÇϼ̾î¿ä. ³­ ¿µ¾î ¸øÇØ¿ä, ³öÁà¿ä. ºê·¡µé¸®¾¾! ºê·¡µé¸®¾¾!
 
Irving looks around from his drink and, seeing the problem, rushes after Joe. Two of the Secret Service men drag Ann away from the barges but Joe catches them and pushes them away, pushing one of them down, and taking Ann by the arm. Joe punches one man who tries
to pull Ann the other way but the other one manages to push Irving over the railing of the gangway and almost into the water. Joe and Ann run to the other side of the floor, where the dancers have dispersed and are watching the action.
 
Joe sees more Secret Service coming from the other side so he runs back the other way. Cornered, he confronts them head-on as they close, Ann standing to the side as he throws one over the side. Ann has the presence of mind to throw him a life belt to him and the
crowd cheers. Irving meanwhile struggles with one of the men, having his beard pulled, but responds to this with an angry punch to the face. Mario runs over his hair with his comb, muttering some Italian to the people near him before rushing in to the fray to help Joe.
 
The conductor of the band motions to the musicians to start playing and they respond with an energetic tune. The scene of chaos continues, Joe and Irving and Mario laying into the Secret Service men. Distracted, two of the men manage to grab Ann and drag her away. Joe runs after, Irving following with his camera.
 
Joe pushes one of the men to the ground and the other responds with a punch, freeing Ann. Ann looks around her for a way to help, picking up a bottles and throws it weakly at Joe's man. Joe keeps fighting with the man as Ann picks up a guitar lying near the band and stands behind him, on a chair. one of the men starts towards her and there is drum roll as she lifts the guitar over her head, then swings it down, hitting him full on the head, stunning him for a moment.
 
IRVING [excitedly, trying to get his camera ready, having missed the shot the first time] Hit him again, Smithy!
´Ù½Ã Çѹø! ½º¹ÌƼ!
 
The drummer rolls again as Ann swings the guitar back, then releasing it and smashing it over the man's head-the camera flashing as she does so.
 
Police sirens sound and the Polizia arrive, packed into their cars. As they spill out, Joe, Ann, and Irving start to leave the scene, leaving the Secret Service men staggering or lying about the dance floor, dazed.
 
IRVING. Joe, give me my car keys.
Â÷ ¿­¼è ¿©±âÀÖ³×.
 
JOE [to Irving; he stops, pointing at the police] Police, police.
°æÂûÀÌ´Ù.
 
IRVING [seeing them arrive in numbers they change their direction] The other side of the bridge.
´Ù¸® ¹Ý´ëÂÊ¿¡ ÀÖ³×.
 
As Joe and Ann run across the barges, Irving tries stalling the men who try to follow with a life belt but they make it past him, running to follow Ann. Joe and Ann run through a boathouse and on reaching the other end walk along the outside edge, just above the
water.
 
Unseen, a Secret Service man covers the outside of the boathouse as they double back. Joe peers round the corner and the man surprises him with a punch to the face, knocking him into the water.
 
Ann knees him in the groin and pushes him away. She holds her nose and dives in after Joe, just escaping the reach of the man as he tries to stop her. The Polizia arrest the remaining Secret Service men and take them away, one of them being dragged by a guitar around his neck, his head clean through the guitar. The band starts up again and people replace the fallen furniture as the crowd waves across the water, apparently after Joe and Ann as they swim away.
 
Joe and Ann stagger out of the water, completely wet through. Joe leads her to a rock where they sit down, Joe rubbing her around the shoulders as she shivers.
 
JOE. Alright?
±¦Âú¾Æ¿ä?
 
ANN. Fine. How are you?
±¦Âú¾Æ¿ä. ´ç½ÅÀº?
 
JOE. Oh, fine! [They laugh out loud for several moments. He looks at her] Say, you know, you were great back there.
ÁÁ¾Æ¿ä. ±²ÀåÇÑ ¹æ¾î¸¦ ÇÏ´øµ¥¿ä.
 
ANN. You weren't so bad yourself... [she stops suddenly, looking into his eyes. He leans forward and kisses her-a long, steady kiss. They look at each other for a moment].
´ç½Åµµ ³ª»ÚÁø ¾Ê¾Ò¾î¿ä.
 
 
JOE [after a pause] Well... I... I guess we'd better get Irving's car, and get out of here.
¾îºùÀÇ Â÷¸¦ Å¸°í ºüÁ®³ª°¡´Â°Ô ÁÁ°Ú¾î¿ä.
 
They stand up and hurry on their way.
 
Joe enters his apartment, takes off his jacket and closes the door. Inside, the radio is on, playing soft piano music. An announcer comes on: "This is the American Hour from Rome, continuing our musical selections".
'¾Æ¸Þ¸®Ä« ¾Æ¿öÀÔ´Ï´Ù. °è¼ÓÇؼ­ À½¾ÇÀ» º¸³»µå¸®ÁÒ.'
 
In the bathroom, Ann gets herself ready, dressed in a bedrobe.
 
Looking in the mirror, she smooths her hair over.
 
She goes outside, standing beside the closed door. Joe, preparing a drink, greets her with a smile.
 
JOE [with a laugh] Everything ruined?
ÀüºÎ ¾û¸ÁÀÌ µÆÁÒ?
 
ANN. No. They'll be dry in a minute.
¾Æ´¢, ±Ý¹æ ¸¶¸¦ÅÙµ¥¿ä.
 
JOE. Suits you-you should always wear my clothes.
Àß ¸Â´Â±º¿ä, ¸ÅÀÏ ³» ¿ÊÀ» ÀÔ¾î¾ß°Ú³×¿ä.
 
ANN. Seems I do [Joe laughs].
Àúµµ ±×·±°Í °°¾Æ¿ä.
 
JOE [giving a her a glass of wine] I thought a little wine might be good.
¿ÍÀÎÀ» ¸¶½Ã¸é ÁÁ¾ÆÁú °Í °°Àºµ¥¿ä.
 
ANN. Shall I cook something?
¹½ Á» ¸¸µé±î¿ä?
 
JOE. No kitchen; nothing to cook; I always eat out.
ºÎ¾ýÀÌ ¾ø¾î¿ä. ´Ã »ç¸ÔÀ¸´Ï±î¿ä.
 
ANN. Do you like that?
±×·±°Ô ÁÁ¾Æ¿ä?
 
JOE. Well, life isn't always what one likes... [pauses] is it?
ÀλýÀ̶õ ´Ã ÁÁÀº °Í¸¸ µÇ´Â°Ô ¾Æ´ÏÀݾƿä? ¾È±×·¡¿ä?
 
ANN. No, it isn't [Ann sits down].
¸Â¾Æ¿ä.
 
JOE. Tired?
ÇÇ°ïÇØ¿ä?
 
ANN. A little.
¾à°£.
 
JOE. You've had quite a day.
²¿¹Ú ÇϷ縦 º¸³Â±º¿ä.
 
ANN. A wonderful day [she smiles as the radio announcer comes on].
¸ÚÁø ³¯À̾ú¾î¿ä.
 
RADIO ANNOUNCER. This is the American Hour, from Rome, broadcasting a special news bulletin in English and Italian. Tonight there is no further word [Ann stands up, walking to the radio; Joe stands still, his back to her] from the bedside of Princess Ann in
Rome, where she was taken ill yesterday, on the last leg of her European goodwill tour. This has given rise to rumours that her condition may be serious, which is causing alarm and anxiety among the people in her country. [The radio starts to repeat the bulletin
in Italian so Ann switches it off].
¿µ¾î¿Í ÀÌŸ®¾î·Î ¹æ¼ÛÇØ µå¸®´Â ¾Æ¸Þ¸®Ä« ¾Æ¿öÀÔ´Ï´Ù. ¿À´Ã¹ãµµ ¾Ø °øÁÖÀǠħ½Ç¿¡¼­´Â ¾Æ¹« ¸»µµ ¾ø±º¿ä. À¯·´ ¹æ¹® ¸¶Áö¸· ³¯ÀΠ¾îÁ¦ º´ÀÌ ³ª¼Ì¾úÁÒ. ½É°¢ÇÑ »óŶó´Â ¼Ò¹®ÀÌ µ¹°í ÀÖ½À´Ï´Ù¸¸...
 
ANN. The news can wait till tomorrow.
³»ÀϱîÁö´Â ¼Ò½ÄÀÌ ÀÖ°ÚÁÒ?
 
JOE. Yes.
 
ANN [she walks to him] May I have a little more wine? [He pours her some more] Sorry I couldn't cook us some dinner.
¿ÍÀΠÁ» ¸¶½Ç±î¿ä? ¿ä¸®¸¦ ÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø´Ù´Ï À¯°¨À̱º¿ä.
 
JOE [as Ann drinks from the glass] Did you learn how in school?
Çб³¿¡¼­ ¹è¿ü³ª¿ä?
 
ANN. Mmmm, I'm a good cook; I could earn my living at it. I can sew too, and clean a house, and iron-I learned to do all those things, I just haven't had the chance [slowing, turning away] to do it for anyone.
Àü ÈǸ¢ÇÑ ¿ä¸®»ç¿¹¿ä. ¹Ù´ÀÁú, Ã»¼Ò, ´Ù¸®¹ÌÁúµµ ÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖÁÒ. ÀüºÎ ´Ù ¹è¿ü´Âµ¥ ÇÒ ±âȸ°¡ ¾ø¾ú¾î¿ä.
 
JOE. Well, looks like I'll have to move; and get myself a place with a kitchen.
°¡ºÁ¾ßÇÒ °Í °°³×¿ä. ºÎ¾ý¿¡ Á» °¥²²¿ä.
 
ANN [she turns around to look at him, heart-broken] Yes [they look at each other for a moment then Ann looks down and drinks the rest of her wine. Ann chokes back her sorrow] I... will have to go now. [She stands for a moment, Joe looking at her, then runs into his
arms, crying on his shoulder].
³×.
Áö±Ý °¡¾ßÇÒ±îºÁ¿ä.
 
 
JOE [comforting her] Anya... there's... something that I want to tell you.
¾Ö´Ï¾Æ! ÇÏ°í ½ÍÀº ¸»ÀÌ Àִµ¥.
 
ANN. No, please [she looks at him and kisses him] nothing. [They hold each other for a moment then Ann looks down] I must go and get dressed.
±×¸¸ Çϼ¼¿ä. ¾Æ¹«¸» ¸»¾Æ¿ä. °¡¼­ ¿ÊÀ» ÀÔ¾î¾ß°Ú¾î¿ä.
 
Ann walks to the bathroom. Joe stands with his back to her, heart-broken. He walks over to pick up his jacket and puts it on.
 
Solemnly, without speaking, Joe drives Ann through Rome.
 
ANN [looking straight ahead] Stop at the next corner, please.
´ÙÀ½ Äڳʿ¡¼­ ¼¼¿öÁÖ¼¼¿ä.
 
JOE. 'K. [He slows down, stopping at a corner and leans forward to see the Embassy gate visible down the street] Here?
¾Ë¾Ò¾î¿ä.
¿©±â?
 
ANN [looking out her window] Yes. [Looking down, without looking at him] I have to leave you now. I'm going to that corner [she looks out], there, and turn. You must stay in the car and drive away. Promise not to watch me go beyond the corner. Just drive away and
leave me, as I leave you.
³×.
ÀÌÁ¦ ¶°³ª¾ß°Ú±º¿ä. Àú ÄڳʷΠµ¹¾Æ°¡¸é ´ç½ÅÀº Â÷¸¦ Å¸°í °¡¼¼¿ä. Äڳʿ¡¼­ ³¯ º¸Áö ¸¶¼¼¿ä. ±×³É Â÷¸¦ ¸ô°í ¶°³ª¼¼¿ä, Á¦°¡ ¶°³ª´Âµ¥·Î.
 
JOE [solemnly] Alright.
ÁÁ¾Æ¿ä.
 
ANN [keeping back the tears] I don't know how to say goodbye. I can't think of any words.
¾î¶»°Ô ÀÛº°Àλ縦 ÇÏÁÒ? ¾Æ¹«¸»µµ »ý°¢ÀÌ ¾È³ª¿ä.
 
JOE. Don't try.
¾Ö¾²Áö ¸»¾Æ¿ä.
 
 
They look at each other and she throws her self into his arms, holding her tight. They kiss, passionately, then hold each other for a few more moments and Ann cries against his shoulder. They release, enough for her to turn around to look back down the street, then she looks at back him. They manage a smile at each other and then Ann looks down, unable to stay the inevitable. Turning away from him, she opens the door and gets out. Without looking back she starts off down the street, her walk turning into a run. Joe watches her as she disappears round the corner. Joe looks out at the empty street toward the gate and looking as if he might go after her but, after a pause he looks away, glumly, then switches on the engine and drives off.
 
In the Embassy. Princess Ann stands in a large room across from the others in their bedclothes: Ambassador; the Countess, who is upset, wiping her nose with a handkerchief; and the General, who stands grim-faced.
 
AMBASSADOR. Your Royal Highness: twenty-four hours-they can't all be blank.
°øÁÖ´Ô! 24½Ã°£ÀÌ ¹«ÀǹÌÇÏÁø ¾ÊÀ¸¼Ì°ÚÁÒ?
 
ANN. They are not.
±×·¡¿ä.
 
AMBASSADOR. But what explanation am I to offer Their Majesties?
ÇÏÁö¸¸ ¾ç ÆóÇϲ´ ¹¹¶ó ¼³¸íÀ» µå¸±±î¿ä?
 
ANN. I was indisposed. I am better.
°¡º­¿î º´ÀÌ °É·È¾ú´Âµ¥ ÁÁ¾ÆÁ³´Ù±¸¿ä.
 
 
AMBASSADOR. Ma'am: you must appreciate that I have my duty to perform, just as Your Royal Highness has Her duty?
°øÁÖ´ÔÀÇ Àǹ«¸¦ Á¦°¡ ´ëÇàÇÑ °É °í¸¿°Ô ¿©±â¼Å¾ß ÇÕ´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN. Your Excellency: I trust you will not find it necessary to use that word again. Were I not completely aware of my duty to my family and my country, I would not have come tonight. [The look at her, in silence; after a pause, grimly] Or indeed ever again. [Ann
walks across the room] Now, since I understand we have a very full schedule today, you have my permission to withdraw. [They stand for a moment, then bow and walk away. At the door, the Countess takes a tray from a servant] No milk and crackers. [The Countess gives them back, about to shut the door] That will be all, thank you, Countess. [The Countess bows in respect and then goes out, closing the door].
±×·± ¸»¾¸À» ´Ù½Ã´Â ¾ÈÇϼŵµ µÉ°Ì´Ï´Ù. °¡Á·°ú Á¶±¹¿¡ ´ëÇÑ Àǹ«¸¦ ÀØ°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù¸é ¿À´Ã¹ã µ¹¾Æ¿ÀÁöµµ ¾Ê¾ÒÀ»°Å¿¡¿ä.
¾Æ´Ï¸é, ¿µ¿øÈ÷...
¿À´Ãµµ ½ºÄÉÁÙÀÌ ²Ë Ã£¾úÀ»Å×´Ï ¹°·¯µé °¡¼¼¿ä.
¿ìÀ¯¿Í Å©·¡Ä¿´Â ¾È¸Ô¾î¿ä.
±×¸¸ °¡º¸¼¼¿ä. °í¸¶¿ö¿ä, ¹éÀÛºÎÀÎ.
 
Alone in the room the Princess walks slowly over to a window, looking out over the city in silence.
 
The next day, Joe sits in his apartment, looking out of his window over the town. There is a knock at the door and Joe looks up, hopefully. The knocking persists and he walks to the door slowly and opens it, then turns around in disappointment.
 
HENNESSY [bursting in] Joe, is it true: did you really get it?
ÁÒ, Á¤¸» ±¸Çß³ª?
 
JOE [turning back to him, hands in pockets] Did I get what?
¹» ±¸ÇØ¿ä?
 
HENNESSY. The Princess story, the exclusive: did you get it?
°øÁÖ´Ô, µ¶Á¡±â»ç.
 
JOE. No, no, I didn't get it [he turns away].
¸ø ±¸Çß¾î¿ä.
 
HENNESSY. What? But that's impossible!
¹¹¶ó°í? ¸»µµ ¾ÈµÅ.
 
JOE. Have a cup of coffee or something?
Ä¿ÇÇ µå½Ã°Ú¾î¿ä?
 
HENNESSY [waving his finger at him] Joe, you can't hold out on me.
º¸·ù½Ãų ¼ø ¾ø³×.
 
JOE. Who's holding out on you?
´©°¡ ±×·¡¿ä?
 
HENNESSY. You are.
ÀÚ³× ¶§¹®À̾ß.
 
JOE [absently, pretending to busy himself with something on the desk] What are you talking about?
 
HENNESSY. I know too much: First you come into my office and ask about an exclusive on the Princess; next, you disappear; then I get the rumour from my contact at the Embassy that the Princess isn't sick at all and she's out on the town.
³ªµµ ¾Æ³×! »ç¹«½Ç¿¡¼­ µ¶Á¡±â»ç¸¦ ¿äû¹Þ°í ³­ ÈÄ °øÁÖ´ÔÀº ¾ÆÇ°Ԡ¾Æ´Ï°í ½Ã³»¿¡ °è½Ã´Ù´Â ¼Ò¹®À» µé¾úÁö.
 
JOE. What kind of a newspaper man are you? You believe every two-bit rumour that comes your way?
¹«½¼ ½Å¹®±âÀÚ°¡ ±×·± ¼Ò¹®À» ¹Ï¾î¿ä?
 
HENNESSY. Yeah? And a lot of other rumours: about a shindig at a barge down by the river [Joe looks up, his eyes brightening at the recollection] and the arrest of eight Secret Service men from a country which shall be nameless. And then comes of news of the
lady's miraculous recovery. It all adds up! And don't think by playing hard-to-get that you're raised the price of that story: a deal's a deal! [Pushing him out of the way, rummaging through the papers on his desk] Now, come on, come on, come on: where is that
story?
±×·¡? ¶°µé¼®ÇÑ À¯¶÷¼±¿¡ °üÇÑ ¼Ò¹®Àº ¸¹Áö. À͸íÀÇ ºñ¹Ð¿ä¿ø 8¸í Ã¼Æ÷. ±× ¿©¼ºÀÇ ±âÀûÀûÀΠȸº¹ ¼Ò½Ä. °ªÀ» ¿Ã¸± »ý°¢Àº ¸»°Ô. °Å·¡´Â °Å·¡¾ß. ±â»ç ¾îµðÀÖ³ª?
 
JOE. I have no story [he pushes past him, walking to the table with the wine on]
±â»ç´Â ¾ø¾î¿ä.
 
HENNESSY [as Joe pours a drink] Then what was the idea of?
´©±¸ ¸¾´ë·Î?
 
IRVING [loudly, approaching from outside] Joe! [He bursts in, carrying a large envelope] Man, wait till you see these!
ÁÒ. ÀÌ°É º¼¶§±îÁö ±â´Ù¸®½Ã¶ó.
 
JOE. Irving.
 
IRVING [walking to Mr. Hennessy, holding out the packet] Hiya, Mr. Henne... oh, you got here at the right time. (JOE. Irving.) Wait till you get a look at?Joe discreetly throws his drink, all over Irving]. What's the idea?!
¾È³çÇϽ´, Çϳ׽þ¾? ¸¶Ä§ ¿À¼Ì±¸¸¸.
¹«½¼ ÁþÀ̾ß?
 
JOE. What do you mean, charging in and spilling things all over my place.
¿ì¸® ÁýÀ» ¾û¸ÁÀ¸·Î ¸¸µé·Á±¸?
 
IRVING. Who's spilling?
´©°¡?
 
JOE. You did-I spoke to you about that once before, don't you remember?
ÀÚ³×°¡ Àü¿¡ ¸»ÇÑÀû ÀÖÁö? ±â¾ï ¾È³ª³ª?
 
IRVING. Joe, look at my pants!
ÁÒ, ³» ¹ÙÁö¸¦ ºÁ.
 
JOE [pulling him by the arm to the bathroom] Yeah, you better come in here and dry 'em off, Irving.
¿©±â µé¾î°¡¼­ ¸»¸®±â³ª ÇØ.
 
IRVING [protesting, pulling away from him] Aww, knackers to that. [Smiling] Hey, did you tell him about Smithy?
¸ÛûÀÌ! ½º¹ÌƼ¿¡ ´ëÇؼ­ ¾ê±âÇß³ª?
 
JOE. Irving.
¾îºù!
 
HENNESSY. Smithy?
½º¹ÌƼ?
 
IRVING. Oh ho! Mr. Hennessy (JOE. Irving.), wait till you... [Joe trips him as he walks to Mr. Hennessy].
 
JOE. There you go again, Irving.
¶Ç ³Ñ¾îÁö³ª.
 
IRVING [getting up, steaming] Joe. Listen, th...
 
JOE. Hey, alright, save that till later; you're here early anyway. Why don't you go home and shave!
Á» ³ªµÖ, ³Ê¹« ÀÏÂï ¿Ô´Ù±¸. Áý¿¡ °¡¼­ ¸éµµ³ª ÇÏÁö.
 
IRVING [putting a hand on his beard] Shave?
¸éµµ?
 
JOE. Yeah, or else keep quiet till Mr. Hennessy and I are finished talking.
¾Æ´Ï¸é, ¿ì¸® ¾ê±â°¡ ³¡³¯¶§±îÁö Á¶¿ëÈ÷ ÇÏ°í.
 
HENNESSY [walking over, putting his hat on] Hey, what kind of a routine is that? What are you guys up to? [Hands on hips] Who's Smithy?
¹«½¼ ±â»çÀε¥? ½º¹ÌƼ°¡ ´©±¸¾ß?
 
JOE [quickly] Oh, he's a guy that we met; you wouldn't care for him.
¸¸³­Àû Àִ ³²ÀÚÁÒ. ½Å°æ¾µ °Å ¾ø¾î¿ä.
 
HENNESSY [grabbing the envelope from Irving] What am I supposed to look at?
±×·³ ¹¹ º¸¶ó´Â °ÅÁö?
 
JOE [quickly, grabbing the envelope back] Oh, just a couple of Irving's dames; you, you wouldn't like 'em. [Smiling; opening the envelope] Er, maybe you would...
¾îºùÀÇ ¿©ÀÚ µÑÀÌ¿ä. ÁÁ¾ÆÇÒ±î, ¾î¿±î.
 
HENNESSY [stopping him] Don't change the subject! When you came back into my office, yesterday?
¸»²¿¸® µ¹¸®Áö ¸»°Ô. ¾îÁ¦ »ç¹«½Ç¿¡ ¿Í¼­...
 
JOE. Yeah, I know, yesterday at noon I thought I had a lead, but I was wrong! That's all there is to it; there is no story [Irving looks at him, perplexed].
¾îÁ¨ ÁÁÀº °Ç¼ö°¡ ÀÖÀ» ÁÙ ¾Ë¾Ò´Âµ¥, ¾Æ´Ï´õ¶ó±¸¿ä. ±â»ç´Â ¾ø¾î¿ä.
 
* perplexed-´çȲÇÑ, ³­Ã³ÇÑ, ¾î¿ ÁÙ ¸ð¸£´Â.
 
HENNESSY. Ok; she's holding the press interview today, same time, same place-maybe that's one story you can get. [He walks to the door, turning back, pointing a finger at him] And you owe me five hundred bucks!
¿À´Ã, °°Àº ½Ã°¢¿¡ ÀÎÅͺ並 ÇÑ´Ù´Ï ¹Þ¾Æ¿À°Ô³ª. 5¹é ´Þ·¯ ºúÁ³³×.
 
JOE. Take it out of my salary, fifty bucks a week.
ºÀ±Þ¿¡¼­ Á¦Çϼ¼¿ä, ÀÏÁÖÀÏ¿¡ 50¾¿.
 
HENNESSY. Don't think I won't! [He leaves].
¸øÇҰŶó°ï »ý°¢¸»°Ô.
 
IRVING. Hey, what gives? Have we had a better offer?
¿Ö±×·¡? ´õ ÁÁÀº Á¦¾ÈÀÌ µé¾î¿Ô³ª?
 
JOE. Irving... I, I don't know just how to tell you this, but?
¾îºù, ¾î¶»°Ô ¾ê±âÇؾߠÇÒÁö ¸ð¸£°ÚÁö¸¸...
 
IRVING. Wait till I sit down [he sits].
¿ì¼± Á» ¾É°í.
 
JOE. Well, in regard to the story that goes with these: there is no story.
±× ±â»ç¸»Àε¥... °Å·¡¸¦ ÇÏÁö. ±â»ç°¡ ¾ø³×.
 
IRVING [pausing] W-why not?
¾î°¼­?
 
JOE [walking away to pour another drink] I mean not as far as I'm concerned.
³»°¡ °ü°èµÇ´Â ÇÑÀº ¾ÈµÅ.
 
IRVING [he looks at Joe and, understanding, pauses for a moment] Er, well, the er, pictures came out pretty well. You wanna have a look at 'em? [he goes to the bed, spreading the pictures out. He holds one up to Joe as he comes over] Huh? [Enthusiastically; as Joe takes it, smiling] How about a blow-up from a negative that size, huh?
À̺Á, »çÁøÀÌ Àß ³ª¿Ô¾î. Á» º¸°Ú³ª?
Àú Å©±â¸¦ À½È­·Î. È®´ëÇϸ頾±î?
 
JOE [laughing] Yeah. [Joe picks some pictures up] Ha, that's her first cigarette, huh?
ù¹ø° ´ã¹è»çÁøÀÌ°í.
 
IRVING. Oh yeah, at Rocca's. [Joe displays the next one] Hey, the Mouth of Truth. [looking at the next one they laugh. It's of Ann and Mario, dancing] Oh, you wanna know the caption I had in mind, there? 'Barber cuts in'-huh?
±×·¡, Áø½ÇÀÇ ÀÔÀ̷αº. »ý°¢ÇØ ³õÀº Ç¥Á¦¸¦ ¾Ë°í ½ÍÁö? "À̹߻ç, ¸Ó¸®±ð´Ù"
 
JOE [taking another from the bed] Well, here's the one I figured would be the key shot for the whole layout: [the picture is of Ann looking at the plaques] 'The Wall Where Wishes Come True', hmm?
¿©±â ÀÌ°Ç Àüü±¸µµ¿¡ Àß ¾î¿ï¸®³×. "¼Ò¸ÁÀÌ ½ÇÇöµÇ´Â º®"
 
* plaque-(º® µûÀ§¿¡ °Å´Â) Àå½ÄÆÇ[¾×ÀÚ].
 
IRVING. Joe, that's good. Lead off with that then follow up on the wishes?
±×°Å ÁÁÀºµ¥, ±×°É·Î ½ÃÀÛÇؼ­ ¼Ò¸ÁÀ¸·Î À̲ô´Â °Å¾ß.
 
JOE. Yeah.
 
IRVING [he picks up another one] I dug that up out of a file: 'Princess Inspects Police'.
ÀÌ°Å º¸°Ô. "°øÁÖ, °æÂûÀ» »ç¿­ÇÏ´Ù"
 
JOE. Yeah, but?
 
IRVING [handing him the next one, of Ann in custody after the scooter ride] 'Police Inspects Princess'. Huh? [They laugh] How about that?
"°æÂû, °øÁÖ¸¦ Á¶»çÇÏ´Ù"
¾î¶²°¡?
 
JOE. Yeah. [Laughing] Pretty good, pretty good. [Irving hands him the next one: of Ann smashing the Secret Service man over the head with the guitar] Wow!
±â¸·Çô!
 
IRVING. Is that a shot?
¹Ù·Î ±×°Å¾ß!
 
JOE. What a picture!
¾ÆÁÖ ÁÁ¾Æ!
 
IRVING. Is that a shot, Joe? 'Body Guard Gets Body Blow'!
±×°ÅÁö, ÁÒ. "º¸µð°¡µå, ¾ò¾î ¸Â´Ù"
 
JOE. Yeah. No, no, how 'bout this: 'Crowned Head'-huh?
ÀÌ°Ç ¾î¶§? "Ȥ ³­ ¸Ó¸®"
 
IRVING. Oh, I get it... That... Joe, you got... [Joe face loses its humour and Irving's enthusiasm fades]. She's fair game, Joe. It's always open season on princesses. [Shaking his shoulder] You must be out of your mind!
¾Ë¾Ò´Ù. ÁÒ, ¾Ë¾Ò¾î Á¤´çÇÑ ³îÀÌ¿´¾î. °øÁִ ´Ã °³¹æµÇ¾î ÀÖÀݳª. Á¤½Å Á» Â÷¸®¶ó±¸.
 
JOE. Yeah, I know but, er, look I can't prevent you from selling the pictures if you want to. You'll get a good price for 'em.
¾Ë¾Æ, ÀÚ³×°¡ ¿øÇѴٸ頻çÁøÀ» ¸øÆÈ°Õ ÇÒ ¼ö ¾øÁö. ºñ½Ñ °ª¿¡ Æȸ±°Å¾ß.
 
IRVING. Yeah! [he bends over the bed to gather the pictures up].
´ç¿¬ÇÏÁö.
 
JOE. You going to the interview?
ÀÎÅͺ信 °¥²«°¡?
 
IRVING. You goin'?
Àڳ״ °¥²«°¡?
 
JOE. Yeah. Well, it's an assignment, isn't it?
¾à¼ÓÀÌÀݳª?
 
IRVING. Yeah. [Irving closes the envelope, noticing his soaking pants. He lifts them off his wet leg, looking at Joe, annoyed. He goes out the door, talking back to Joe, disappointed] I'll see you.
À̵û º¸¼¼.
 
Joe stands and watches him leave.
 
The huge Embassy hall. The floor teams with journalists and photographers, milling around. Joe and Irving enter, standing at the entrance.
 
IRVING [looking up at the incredible ornation in the building] It ain't much, but it's home.
Å©Áø ¾Ê¾Æµµ ÁýÀ̷αº.
 
They walk into the crowd. A man approaches at the front of the room, on top of the landing and walks to right of the ornate chair sat in the centre. Several steps lead up to the landing from the floor and are carpeted down the centre. Standing motionless at the
top of the steps the man claps twice, loudly.
 
EMBASSY ANNOUNCER. Ladies and Gentlemen: please approach.
½Å»ç ¼÷³à ¿©·¯ºÐ. ¸ð¿©ÁֽʽÿÀ.
 
The crowd moves forward, pressing to the front behind the rope that marks the boundary. Joe and Irving move to the front, towards the right side of the gathering. The Master of Ceremonies approaches from the back also, walking to the other side of the first man,
standing still. The Master of Ceremonies announces, in Italian, "Her Royal Highness", then again in English. He then stands sideways and waits.
 
In a moment, the Princess emerges accompanied by the Ambassador, the Countess, the General, and many others behind. Joe smiles slightly as she approaches. Princess Ann stands in front of the chair.
 
AMBASSADOR. Your Royal Highness: the ladies and gentlemen of the Press [he motions with his hand].
°øÁÖ ÀüÇÏÀ̽ʴϴÙ. °øÁÖ ÀüÇÏ, ±âÀںеéÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
Princess Ann turns to the gathering, raising and lowering her head in acknowledgement to them. As she looks over them her eyes fall on Joe and she starts just slightly, her £åxpression hardening a little.
 
She looks down as the Ambassador motions to the chair with his hand. She sits back gracefully, looking back up at Joe. They exchange looks. Ann turns her head, nodding to the Master of Ceremonies.
 
MASTER OF CEREMONIES [he bows, then turns to the group] Ladies and Gentlemen: Her Royal Highness will now answer your questions.
½Å»ç ¼÷³à ¿©·¯ºÐ. Áú¹®ÇØ ÁֽʽÿÀ.
 
CHIEF OF CORRESPONDENTS [standing in the crowd of journalists; speaking slowly, formally] I believe at the outset, Your Highness, that I should express the pleasure of all of us at your recovery from the recent illness.
óÀ½ºÎÅ͠ȸº¹µÇ½Ã¸®¶ó°í ¹Ï°í ÀÖ¾ú½À´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN. Thank you.
°í¸¶¿ö¿ä.
 
AMERICAN CORRESPONDENT [speaking from the crowd] Does Your Highness believe that Federation would be a possible solution to Europe's economic problems?
¿¬¹æÁ¦°¡ À¯·´ °æÁ¦¹®Á¦¸¦ ÇØ°áÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù°í ¹ÏÀ¸½Ê´Ï±î?
 
ANN. I am in favour of any measure which would lead to closer cooperation in Europe.
À¯·´ÀÇ ±ä¹ÐÇÑ À¯´ë¸¦ À̲ô´Â °Å¶ó¸é Âù¼ºÇÕ´Ï´Ù.
 
CORRESPONDENT. And what, in the opinion of Your Highness, is the outlook for Friendship Among Nations?
±¹°¡°£ÀǠģ¼± Àü¸Á¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ÀÇ°ßÀº ¾î¶°½ÅÁö¿ä?
 
ANN. I have every faith in it... [pausing; turning to look at Joe] as I have faith in relations between people [the people on the stage around her look about, slightly baffled; the press gathering stirs slightly].
Àΰ£ °ü°è¿¡ ¹ÏÀ½À» °¡Áöµí ¸ðµç °É ¹Ï½À´Ï´Ù.
 
JOE. May I say (speaking from my own press service) we believe that Your Highness's faith will not be unjustified.
ÇÁ·¹½º ¼­ºñ½º¸¦ ´ëº¯Çϰǵ¥ ÀüÇÏÀÇ ¹ÏÀ½Àº ÀÌÄ¡¿¡ ¸ÂÀ¸½Ç°Å¶ó ¹Ï½À´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN [looking at Joe; smiling very slightly to him] I am so glad to hear you say it.
±×·± ¸»À» µéÀ¸´Ï Á¤¸» ±â»Ú±º¿ä.
 
CORRESPONDENT. Which of the cities visited did Your Highness enjoy the most?
°¡Àå Áñ°Å¿ì¼Ì´ø µµ½Ã´Â ¾îµð¿´½À´Ï±î?
 
Ann pauses as she looks at Joe.
 
GENERAL [quietly, prompting her] Each in its own way...
 
ANN. Each in its own way was... unforgettable. It would be difficult to... [she stops, then her face softens]. Rome; by all means, Rome. [The press stirs, muttering to themselves quietly. She turns to look at Joe] I will cherish my visit here, in memory, as long as I live.
±× ³ª¸§´ë·Î °¢ÀÚ... °¢ÀÚ ÀØÀ»¼ö ¾øÁö¸¸... ·Î¸¶¿´¾î¿ä. ²À ·Î¸¶¸¦ ±â¾ïÇÏ°Ú¾î¿ä. »ì¾ÆÀִ ÇÑ ÀÌ°÷ÀÇ ¹æ¹®À» ±â¾ïÇÏ°Ú¾î¿ä.
 
CORRESPONDENT. Despite your indisposition, Your Highness?
½ÈÁõÀÌ ³ª½Ã´õ¶óµµ¿ä?
 
ANN [turning to the correspondent] Despite that.
±×·¸½À´Ï´Ù.
 
MASTER OF CEREMONIES. Photographs may now be taken.
ÀÌÁ¦ »çÁø ÃÔ¿µÀ» ÇϽʽÿÀ.
 
The photographers swarm out from both sides from under the rope, jostling before the steps as they photograph her. Princess Ann stands up for them, stepping forward.
 
As the photographers finish, Irving steps up, smiling to Ann as he holds his small cigaretter lighter camera. He bends forward, looking into it, as Ann smiles at him from above. Her £åxpression turns to astonishment when she realises what is it that he is using as a camera. Irving smiles at her and Ann looks over at Joe who also smiles back. The last of the photographers retreats behind the rope.
 
Irving rejoins Joe behind the rope.
 
GENERAL. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you very much.
°í¸¿½À´Ï´Ù. ½Å»ç ¼÷³à ¿©·¯ºÐ.
 
ANN [to the Ambassador, who is slightly taken aback] I would now like to meet some of the ladies and gentlemen of the Press.
±âÀÚ ¿©·¯ºÐµéÀ» ¸¸³ªº¸°í ½Í±º¿ä.
 
Ann walks down the steps, stopping as the Countess and the General walk down to accompany her. When they stop, she continues, walking down the steps and to the left of the gathering, smiling as she walks to up to the journalists.
 
AMERICAN CORRESPONDENT. Hitchcock, Chicago Daily News.
½ÃÄ«°í ¸ÅÀÏ ´º½ºÀÇ È÷Ä¡ÄÛÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN [as she shakes his hand] I'm so happy to see you, Mr. Hitchcock.
ºË°Ô µÇ¼­ ±â»Ú±º¿ä.
 
AMERICAN CORRESPONDENT. Thank you.
 
Princess Ann walks walks along to meet the next one.
 
CORRESPONDENT. European Correspondent [bowing slightly] * de La Switch* [she shakes his hand].
½ºÀ§½ºÀÇ ½ºÄ«Áö¾Æ´ÏÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
GERMAN CORRESPONDENT. Deutsche Press *.
µ¶ÀÏ ½Å¹®»çÀǠŬ¸µ°ÅÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN [shaking his hand] *.
±â»µ¿ä.
 
CORRESPONDENT. *, Le Figaro* [he bends forward, kissing her hand].
ÇÇ°¡·ÎÀÇ ¸ð¸®½º ¸óŸºê·¹ÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
DUTCH CORRESPONDENT (Woman) [curtsies] *, * Amsterdam.
¾Ï½ºÅ׸£´ã, ¸®´ÏÀÇ »çÀÌÃ÷ÄÉ °¥·¹¸¶ÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN [shaking her hand] * [the woman curtsies again].
¹Ý°¡¿ö¿ä.
 
CORRESPONDENT. Correspondent. Jacques *, *.
Æĸ®ÀÇ ÀÚÅ© Æ丮ÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN [shaking his hand] Enchanter.
¸ÅȤÀûÀ̽ñº¿ä.
 
Irving looks a Joe, shifting nervously as she comes closer.
 
CORRESPONDENT. *, * [he bows and shakes her hand].
´Ù¹Ù ÅھƺñºêÀÇ ±×·Î½ºÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
CORRESPONDENT. *, *.
ABC ¸¶µå¸®µåÀÇ ²ÃÅ×½º Ä«ºñ´Ï¶ó½ºÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN [smiling as he kisses her hand] Incontada.
±â»µ¿ä.
 
CORRESPONDENT. Lampe. New York Herald Tribune.
´º¿å ÇØ·²µå Æ®·¯ºåÀÇ ¶÷ÇÁÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN. Good afternoon [she shakes his hand]
¾È³çÇϼ¼¿ä?
 
CORRESPONDENT. Good afternoon.
 
IRVING. Irving Radovich, C.R. Photo Service.
CR »çÁø±¹ÀÇ ¾îºù ¶óµµºñÄ¡ÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN. How do you do? [she shakes his hand]
óÀ½ ºË°Ú¾î¿ä.
 
IRVING [reaching into his pocket, then giving her the envelope] Er, may I present Your Highness with some commemorative photos of your visit to Rome?
·Î¸¶¿¡ ¹æ¹®ÇϽŠ±â³ä»çÁøÀ» µå·Áµµ µÇ°Ú½À´Ï±î?
 
ANN [she takes the envelope, opening it, and removing one of the photos slightly to see. It is the one of her hitting the man with the guitar. She suppresses her amusement] Thank you so very much [she pauses slightly before she turns look at Joe].
Á¤¸» °í¸¿±º¿ä.
 
JOE [as she walks across to him] Joe Bradley, American News Service.
¾Æ¸Þ¸®Ä« ´º½ºÀÇ ÁÒ ºê·¡µé¸®ÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN [she shakes his hand and he smiles back, Ann with more suppressed emotion] So happy, Mr. Bradley.
Á¤¸» ±â»µ¿ä, ºê·¡µé¸®¾¾.
 
 
CORRESPONDENT. *, * [he bows and they shakes hands. She appears to almost speak but doesn't, moving on to the next correspondent].
¹Ù¸£¼¿·Î³ª, ¹æ°¡µð¾ÆÀÇ ¸ð¸®¿À³×ÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
CORRESPONDENT. Steven Hausen, The London Exchange Telegraph.
·±´ø ±³È¯Àü¼±±¹ÀÇ ½ºÆ¼ºì ÇϿ콺ÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
ANN [shaking his hand] Good afternoon.
¾È³çÇϼ¼¿ä?
 
CORRESPONDENT. *, * Press [he shakes her hand].
¿¡ÀÌÁ¨½º ÇÁ·¹½ºÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
 
Reaching the last of the front-row journalists, Ann turns and walks slowly up the steps. The press gathering applauds her warmly as she reaches the top, her back to them. Slowly, she turns to face them, smiling broadly to the the gathering as she looks over them.
 
 
Inevitably, her eyes fall to Joe. He smiles back, then her £åxpression grows sorrowful. She manages another slight smile then turns away from them, and walks slowly and gracefully towards the exit. The officials step aside for her to pass and then file after her through the door.
 
As she leaves, Joe watches her solemnly, the press turning to leave also. Before turning to go himself, Irving looks to Joe, but seeing his gaze unmoved walks away with the rest of them.
 
The press, bustling and chattering behind him leave Joe alone, standing at the rope, looking at the empty spot where the Princess was last.
 
Finally, Joe turns slowly to leave as the crowd disappears out of the entrance to the building. Alone but for the guards lining the room he walks slowly to the exit; hands in pockets, leaving the stage behind him; the huge room silent except for his slow footsteps.
 
Stopping near the entrance, he pauses for a moment to look down the long hall back at the empty stage. Then, he turns and walks away.
 
  
 
THE END
 

 
   
 

¿î¿µÀÚ e-mail : gaiakingdum@daum.net (Ä«Åå¾ÆÀ̵ð: dalmage57)    2013.04.08.(ÃÖ±Ù¼öÁ¤ : 2020.02.11)