Alber Camus The misunderstanding 2012
MARIA (turning to him) Oh, no. Perhaps. I don't know. But help me,
please. Someone must help. Have pity on me! I need your help.
Please help me!
Hear my
prayer, and turn your face to me! Have mercy on us! On those
who love each other, and are driven apart
We'll be there. And we'll be waiting for
you.
With reality. With an arrangement that guarantees that no one
person ever knows another.
Reality has us all firmly in its grip
MARTHA Don't worry. I'll be going soon. Your love and your tears are
more than I can take, and it'll be a great relief to be rid of
them forever. But I refuse to die while you still believe that
you are right and I am wrong, that love is never futile, and
that all of this is some kind of accident, a ghastly mistake.
It isn't. It's simply the final revelation of how things
really are, and you must come to terms with it.
Crime's just another form of loneliness, even if you're one in
a thousand. I've lived alone and killed alone, and now I must
die alone.
Let's keep things in proportion. You've lost your husband, and
I've lost my mother. So we stand even. But he only left you
once. Think of all those years when you had him to yourself,
And you were never rejected. I was. By my own mother. And now
she's dead. So that makes twice.
If you must know, there was in fact a slight misunderstanding.
Nothing out of the ordinary. It's the kind of thing that
happens. Even you should know that.
please. Someone must help. Have pity on me! I need your help.
Please help me!
Hear my
prayer, and turn your face to me! Have mercy on us! On those
who love each other, and are driven apart
We'll be there. And we'll be waiting for
you.
With reality. With an arrangement that guarantees that no one
person ever knows another.
Reality has us all firmly in its grip
MARTHA Don't worry. I'll be going soon. Your love and your tears are
more than I can take, and it'll be a great relief to be rid of
them forever. But I refuse to die while you still believe that
you are right and I am wrong, that love is never futile, and
that all of this is some kind of accident, a ghastly mistake.
It isn't. It's simply the final revelation of how things
really are, and you must come to terms with it.
Crime's just another form of loneliness, even if you're one in
a thousand. I've lived alone and killed alone, and now I must
die alone.
Let's keep things in proportion. You've lost your husband, and
I've lost my mother. So we stand even. But he only left you
once. Think of all those years when you had him to yourself,
And you were never rejected. I was. By my own mother. And now
she's dead. So that makes twice.
If you must know, there was in fact a slight misunderstanding.
Nothing out of the ordinary. It's the kind of thing that
happens. Even you should know that.