together with major contributions by many others, present:
based on the novel by Alfred Döblin
a film in 13 parts with an epilogue
Two marks fifty,
sixty,
seventy,
eighty,
Ninety. And that's the lot.
Over and out.
But... If I were to... Don't interrupt me again.
If I were maybe to...
No! When I say no, I mean no.
I don't want you earning money for me.
I don't want to live on money earned by someone I love.
It brings bad luck. You understand? And I swore it as well.
I swore it that first night, Lina.
Yes, Franz.
And promise me you'll never bring it up again.
Bring me a schnapps, Maxie. -Coming up.
How many unemployed people are there in Berlin?
I don't know. A few hundred thousand maybe.
You reckon?
Oh, well...
One mark, two marks, two marks fifty,
sixty, seventy, eighty,
ninety.
Hey.
Hi, Meck.
Come and join us.
-Cheers. -Thanks.
-A beer for me, please. -Okay.
That's all you've got, eh?
Well, then...
Yeah?
We'll just have to see.
II. How is One to Live if One Doesn't Want to Die?
You can't collect welfare or work in a factory,
it's too cold for excavating work.
Trade would be the best thing.
In Berlin or in the country, that's up to you.
At least you'd have a full belly.
Why doesn't the proletarian man wear a tie?
Because he can't tie one.
So he has to buy a tie holder, and when he's bought one,
he's no better off. He still can't tie the thing with it.
That's a swindle.
It makes people resentful.
It pushes Germany deeper into misery than it already is.
Why don't people want to wear a big tie holder?
They don't want a dustpan around their necks. No man,
no woman wants that. Not even a baby if it could express an opinion.
Buy a tie holder like that at Tietz's or Wertheim's,
or if you don't want to buy from Jews, buy it somewhere else.
I'm an Aryan. The big department stores don't need me
to advertise for them. They can get along without me.
Buy yourself a tie-holder like these ones here,
then consider how to tie it in the morning.
Listen, folks, who's got time nowadays to tie a tie in the morning?
Who wouldn't rather sleep a minute longer?
We all need our sleep.
We have to work so hard and don't earn much.
A tie holder like this will help you sleep better.
That's competition for the drugstores.
Buy a tie holder from me,
and you won't need sleeping potions and nightcaps.
You won't need anything at all. You'll sleep like a baby at its mother's breast.
No scramble in the morning. What you need
is there on the dresser. Just push it under your collar.
You spend your money on so much other junk.
Deutsches Tageblatt.
Latest edition!
Deutsches Tageblatt.
Latest edition! -Hot sausages!
Yes, but... Wait! That's...
Deutsches Tageblatt.
You're buying quality merchandise here.
Not celluloid.
It's all genuine rubber.
Twenty pfennigs each.
Three for 50 pfennigs. Keep off the road, young man,
or you'll get run over. And who's going to clear away the mess?
Let me explain how to knot this tie.
No sledgehammer tactics needed here. You'll get it right away.
You take both ends like this, 12 to 14 inches long,
then fold it over, but not like this.
It looks like a squashed bug on the wall, a kippered herring on your chest.
A gentleman wouldn't be seen dead in it.
So use my little gadget here.
It saves time, and time is money.
This fine little thing is just what you need.
Look! The ideal Christmas present.
It suits your taste,
and it's for your convenience.
If the Dawes Plan has left you anything at all,
it's your head under your hat. And your head will tell you
that you need this, that you should buy it
and take it home, and it'll comfort you.
Hot sausages! Hot sausages!
-Who was that woman? -That...
That was Eva,
a girl I used to know.
But that's history. It's all over now.
You know, Lina, I'm no good at speaking.
I'm not a public orator.
When I call out my stuff, they understand me,
but it's not the real thing.
Do you know what mettle is?
-No. -Mettle
is spirit, brains and not just your skull.
And a speaker is a speaker.
You are one, Franz.
Don't tell me that. Me? A speaker? No.
Do you know who was a speaker?
You see? I don't either. But this here is nothing for me.
I've been thinking about it all day.
I want to sell newspapers.
-Newspapers? -That's right, newspapers.
It suddenly entered my head, and it stayed there, and it's the right thing.
Newspapers.
I'm going to see what we can do about it.
You stay here and carry on for me.
You're better at it than I am anyway. Bye.
Hello.
Well, any ideas?
Tie holders are not the right thing for me.
That's like
selling something I don't need myself.
If I were you, I'd try sexual education.
It's all the rage now, and it sells well. -What is it?
Here.
Just take a look. Then you won't ask any more questions.
Pictures of naked girls!
I don't have them in any other form.
Say, buddy,
is this your idea of fun? -What?
The girls here, and pictures like that.
Laughing Life.
They paint a naked girl with a kitten.
What's she doing on the stairs with a kitten?
Strange bird!
Do you mind if I look?
Let me take a look at these.
Figaro it's called.
And this one, Marriage.
And this. Ideal Marriage.
That's something different from marriage.
Love Between Women.
All available separately.
There's a lot of information if you've got the money,
but they're damned expensive.
Tell me...
...is there a catch to it?
Why should there be a catch?
It's all aboveboard. Nothing illegal.
I've got a permit for what I sell. There's no catch to it.
I don't touch things like that.
All I can say is, looking at pictures is no good.
I can tell you a tale about that.
It ruins a man. It screws him up.
It starts with looking at pictures,
and later, when you want to, it doesn't come natural anymore.
I don't understand what you mean.
Don't spit all over my magazines, they cost money. And don't mess up the covers!
Here,
read this.
Unmarried Couples.
There's a special magazine for everything.
Unmarried Couples.
As if they didn't exist.
I'm not married to Lina either. -Look! Read this
and tell me if it isn't true. It's just an example:
"The attempt to regulate a married couple's sex life by contract
and to dictate conjugal obligations, as prescribed by law,
is the most abominable and humiliating form of slavery
one can imagine". There! -How come?
Is it true or not?
It doesn't arise in my case.
A woman who demands something like that from a man!
Do things like that really happen? -Go ahead and read it.
My God! Just let her try that with me.
"The attempt to regulate
a married couple's sex life by contract
and to dictate conjugal obligations,
as prescribed by law,
is the most abominable and humiliating form of slavery
one can imagine."
Okay.
Here's Love Between Women
and Friendship,
and they're not just talking. They're fighting.
Yeah, for human rights.
What's their beef?
Paragraph 175, if you're not aware of it.
It's a glaring injustice, and it happens to millions every day in Germany.
It's enough to make your hair stand on end.
You can feel sorry for those guys,
but what's it got to do with me?
Did you find anything?
Well...maybe.
I told the old man we're through with tie holders.
I'm no good at it either.
No one buys anything from me.
There's a strange story in this magazine.
A bald-headed guy goes for a walk one night
in the Tiergarten district.
He meets a good-looking boy,
who takes the man's arm right away.
After strolling around for about an hour,
the bald-headed guy feels an urge
to show his affection for the boy.
The guy's married,
but he's felt these things before,
and now he has to do it,
because it's such a wonderful feeling or something.
"You're my sunshine!" he says, and:
"My treasure!"
And he's so gentle, and...
That things like that exist!
Then the boy says to him:
"You know what?
Let's go to a small hotel, and you give me five marks
or ten marks, because I'm flat broke."
And the old guy says:
"I'd do anything for you, my sunshine."
And he gives him his whole wallet.
But in the hotel rooms, there are peepholes in the doors.
The hotel owner sees something and calls his wife,
and his wife sees something too.
And they say they won't tolerate things like that in their hotel,
the sort of things they've just seen.
He should be ashamed of seducing a boy like that.
They threaten to report him to the police.
Then the porter comes and the chambermaid,
and they all stand around grinning.
The next day, the bald-headed guy buys two bottles of Asbach brandy
and leaves on a business trip to Helgoland.
He wants to drown his sorrows and then drown himself or something.
Anyway, he sails on the ship
and gets drunk,
but he doesn't kill himself after all.
And one day, while he's away convalescing,
his wife has to sign a summons for him,
which she does.
But she also takes a look at it, and sees everything described there:
the peepholes, and the wallet,
and the dear young man.
And when the bald-headed guy comes back,
they all stand around him crying their heads off,
his wife and his two grown-up daughters. Then he reads the summons himself.
"Your Honor, what did I do?
I went to my room and locked myself in.
It's not my fault if they have peepholes.
No offense was committed." And the boy confirms this.
"What did I do wrong?"
The bald-headed guy in furs sobs.
"Did I steal?
Was I caught breaking and entering?
All I entered was the heart of a dear young man.
And I said:
'You're my sunshine.'
And he was too."
I see.
Are you that way too, maybe?
Like the guy in the magazine?
What?
Lina!
Lina, wait a minute.
Lina! What's up with you?
What's all this nonsense? -No, Franz.
I'm not going with you. We're through.
You can beat it.
What's all this nonsense?
Come on, Lina.
I'll give him back his trash.
My God, Franz.
I was so scared.
What is it?
Come on! -Well, you know, I...
Okay.
In the war zone, sweet, slovenly, unwashed, little Lina,
her eyes red with tears,
made an autonomous thrust a la Prince of Homburg.
"Noble Uncle Friedrich von der Mark!" "Natalie! Let it be! Let it be!"
"Almighty God, now he is lost! No matter. No matter."
She made a beeline, straight as an arrow, for the old man's stand.
And Franz Biberkopf, noble in his suffering,
forced himself to wait in the background.
There he stood, backgrounded by the cigar shop, by Schroeder Import-Export,
from where he observed,
obscured by a light mist, by streetcars and passers-by,
the progress of hostilities.
The heroes had come to grips, figuratively speaking.
They probed each other, searching for weak spots.
In a peppery mood, Lina Przybilla from Czernowitz,
sole legitimate daughter of Stanislaus Przybilla,
after the premature births of two half-developed babies,
both of whom were to have been called Lina,
Miss Przybilla flung down the journals vehemently.
The rest was lost in the din of street traffic.
"What a woman! What a woman!"
a happily hampered Franz sighed in admiration.
He approached the center of hostilities like a reserve force,
and outside Ernst Kuemmerlich's liquor shop, the victorious, smiling heroine,
Miss Lina Przybilla, unkempt, but delightful, greeted him,
screeching, "I gave it to him, Franz!"
Then, in standing, she sank to that part of his body
she took to be his heart, but which, beneath his woolen undershirt,
was his breastbone and the upper lobe of his left lung.
She was triumphant. "Now, O Immortality, thou art mine!
What radiance unfolds!
Hail the Prince of Homburg, victor in the battle of Fehrbellin! Hail.
Hail!", open parentheses, ladies-in-waiting, officers,
and torches appear on the castle ramp, close parentheses.
-Well, how was that? -Masterly, I tell you. Masterly.
When I do something, I do it properly.
Well, I may not have any work now, but
I do have you, Lina. -Yes, Franz, you've got me.
And we'll find work too.
Give me my purse! -What?
My purse!
Wait a second. I have to pee.
Six thousand...
...six hundred and seventy-three thousand,
five hundred and eighty-two. -What was that?
You asked me how many people
are unemployed in Berlin. -Yeah.
Well, I found out:
673,582. -No, no.
673,583.
How do you work that out?
I said 673,582.
It's simple. You forgot me.
The latest figure is 673,583.
Got it? You have to stick to the facts, don't you?
Yes, but...
No "buts".
If there were 673,582 unemployed in Berlin 10 minutes ago,
there are 673,583 unemployed people in Berlin now.
-lf you say so, it must be right. -Exactly.
Listen, Lina.
You know what a layout girl is?
-A layout girl? -Yeah.
A layout girl...
...she's...
I don't know.
A layout girl has to lay things out,
and check layouts and...
-That's a layout girl. -No, Lina, that's not what I mean.
If I push you, and you're laid out on the sofa, with me next to you,
then you're a layout girl, and I'm a layout man.
Yes, you'd like that, wouldn't you?
Let's give ourselves a treat today.
Why today of all days?
Because yesterday's over and tomorrow's not yet here.
Understand? -I understand.
Okay, then, we'll go
to the New World.
The New World?
Yeah, the New World at the Hasenheide.
Don't you know it? -No.
So much the better. What you don't know, you have to find out about.
673,583.
He is your master?
How proud that sounds
True it is only Within certain bounds
When one considers, What are the grounds
For a marriage like that in Sicily?
Here stands the husband Outside the door
There sits the boyfriend inside with her
Quite without shame It's just the same
In the finest of families
In bed she lay till late
Then decked herself out in state
There she sits looking grand With a rosary in her hand
Ladies and gentlemen, find out the truth from me!
Drink, my friend, drink! Leave all your worries at home
Yeah, that's what I'll do:
I'll leave my worries at home. -Cheers.
Talk of salvation Talk of damnation
The economy's not your concern
The man is really a sucker
At home in Berlin, it wouldn't occur
No man at home Would talk in that way
Nor is his place in the kitchen, we say
And still he brings her coffee in bed
She just has to grind it That's all he said
A man from Berlin is witty and gay
And he wears the trousers anyway
That's why, so many years ago
All the songs in Berlin changed, and so
We now sing
Mother, the man with the coke is here
Just shut your trap!
I know that, my dear
I've no cash, you've no cash What's to be done?
Whoever asked the coke man to come?
Mother, the man with the coke is here
Just shut your trap!
I know that, my dear
In the south, A sunburn's for free on the whole
But in Berlin You need dough for the coal
Yes, for the coal
Encore! Encore! Encore!
So we sing
Mother, the man with the coke is here
Just shut your trap!
I know that, my dear
I've no cash, you've no cash What's to be done?
Who asked the man with the coke To come?
Come on, Franz.
You don't come here to be sad.
People come here to be happy...
...to dance
and laugh. Understand?
Yeah, but the...
...the world... -What do you mean, "the world"?
This here's the New World.
Come on, let's have a drink.
Want to give it a try? 20 pfennigs.
A small price to find out how strong you are.
For 20 pfennigs you can find out if you're a man.
-Want to try? -I don't know.
Oh, baloney! You're stronger than all of them. Come on!
That's the one thing a woman can't tell:
whether the man she loves is strong.
Two beers.
-Cheers. -And what about me?
-Cheers. -Cheers.
Cheers.
Prosit, prosit
To prostitution!
Prosit, prosit
To prostitution!
What do you say to that?
Pretty good.
A loud voice, eh? -That's right.
I've got a loud voice.
I've got a very, very loud voice.
Don't look so deep into my eyes.
Look at me.
Sure.
I'm looking at you. -What a woman dreams in spring
All those foolish, wayward things
Come here! Come on!
Closer! That's right.
Are you a German man?
German to the core? -Yeah.
-What's your name? -Franz.
Franz Biberkopf.
Are you a German man? Word of honor?
You're not with the Reds?
If you are, you're a traitor.
Anyone who's a traitor is no friend of mine.
The Poles, the French,
the fatherland for which we shed our blood...
That's the nation's gratitude!
Say,
you're a real German, aren't you?
Through and through German?
-Yes. -Yes, I saw it right away
that you're a true German,
German to the core. Where did you serve?
It doesn't matter where I served.
Today I'm out of work.
Does it help me today where I served?
You see? That's the injustice of this world.
The German man is unemployed.
That's how things are. Cheers.
You know what?
Because you're German, German through and through,
and because you're unemployed,
and because that's the justice of this world,
and because it shouldn't be that way,
I'm going to tell you something. Do you know what?
-No. -No. You couldn't know.
Listen.
I'm the Berlin representative
of the Voelkischer Beobachter.
Do you know what the Voelkischer Beobachter is?
-Well, l-- -Exactly. That's what I say.
It's the only newspaper a sensible person can read today.
And because that's my opinion, and because it's your opinion,
I'm going to give you a chance, I am.
That's right. What I always say is:
Germany for the Germans again! Am I right?
-Cheers. -Cheers.
Pickled herring in first-class spiced sauce!
Tender fish fillets! Pickled herring in fine spiced sauce!
Delicate fish with gherkins!
-There. That looks good, doesn't it? -Right.
That looks good.
Is there anything else? -What do you mean?
Well, the way you're looking at me...
No.
I was just considering whether I'd forgotten something.
Oh, well, it'll be okay.
Good luck, then.
Thanks.
There. I knew I'd forgotten something.
This is what I forgot.
Is that necessary?
I mean, do I really have to...? -What's the matter?
No need to be ashamed of that armband.
On the contrary, it's an honor. -Well,
if you think so...
Come here. I'll put it on for you.
There!
That looks quite different. There's something solid behind it.
-Yeah? Maybe you're right. -What do you mean, maybe?
It looks good, really good,
and it has an effect. Well, good luck again.
Oh, well...
Voelkischer Beobachter.
Read the Voelkischer Beobachter. Only 20 pfennigs.
Voelkischer Beobachter.
There must be order in paradise.
Fine hot sausages!
-Hello. -Hello.
-New around here? -Yes.
The Voelkischer Beobachter.
Those guys are supposed to be okay,
but...
I sense something else. Against the Jews, aren't they?
Personally, I've got nothing against the Jews.
But I am for law and order.
Everyone must see the need for order.
Potsdamer Platz!
Train to Krumme Lanke.
All aboard for Krumme Lanke!
"To the German people at the harvest festival!
Put an end to your illusions,
and punish those who deceive you!
Then the day will dawn when truth will rise from the field of battle,
with the sword of justice and shining shield,
to vanquish the foe."
Something wrong, buddy?
No. It's nothing.
I guess that's the way it has to be:
everyone finds happiness according to his own lights. And anyway,
that's how the times are.
I wish you lots of luck, buddy.
Pickled herring in fine spiced sauce!
Tender fish fillets!
Pickled herring in spiced sauce!
I'm Jewish, you know...
...but no hard feelings.
Good luck, anyway.
Thanks.
Hot dogs! Hot dogs, gentlemen, hot sausages!
That's life.
Hot dogs!
Fine hot sausages! Hot sausages!
Hey, Dreske.
Fine hot sausages!
You can't just walk by like that.
You can at least say hello.
Hey, that's Biberkopf.
Right. It's Franz Biberkopf.
With a swastika on his arm.
What's he doing wearing a swastika?
Pickled herring in spiced sauce.
Tender fish fillets!
Why are you looking at me like such dopes?
What do you mean? We're just looking at you.
Oh, because of the swastika?
Because of the swastika?
Well, Franz,
the swastika is a swastika,
isn't it?
Sure.
A swastika is a swastika.
Federalism...
...is anti-Semitism.
The struggle against the Jews
is also the fight
for the sovereignty...
...of Bavaria!
The struggle against the Jews
is also the fight for the sovereignty of Bavaria!
So you're making fun of me, Richard.
And why?
Just because you're married?
You're 27. Your wife's 18.
What have you seen of life?
Nothing.
Less than nothing.
And the armband, Dreske.
Take a good look at it.
There's nothing on it a man can't answer for.
I got out too, just like you,
but what happened afterwards?
Whether the band's red or gold, or black, white and red,
it doesn't make a cigar taste better.
It's the tobacco that counts, my boy,
outer leaf, filler properly rolled and dried,
and where it's from. That's what I say.
What did we do, Dreske? Tell me that.
When I look at you, Franz,
all I can say is-- And I've known you a long time.
--they've really pulled the wool over your eyes.
-Because of the armband? -And everything else.
Forget it.
You don't need to run around like that.
That's right.
You don't need to, Franz.
Hold it, Richard. You're a good guy,
but this here's something for men.
Having the right to vote doesn't put you on a par with Dreske and me.
They've really conned you.
We had inflation,
paper money, millions, billions.
No meat, no butter. Nothing.
And us?
We just went around pinching potatoes from the farmers.
Revolution?
Take down the flagpole, wrap the flag in oilcloth,
and put it in the closet.
Let mother give you your slippers,
and take off your bright red armband.
All you do is yap about revolution,
but your republic's nothing but a calamity.
A bee, a wasp, a bumblebee circles the ceiling, a natural wonder in winter.
Others of its tribe, species, conviction, and genus are dead,
either already dead or not yet born.
This solitary bumblebee is enduring the Ice Age,
not knowing how or why it should happen to him.
But the sunshine is eons old.
Everything seems ephemeral and trifling
when one sees it. Coming from X miles away,
shooting past star Y,
the sun shone millions of years before Nebuchadnezzar,
before Adam and Eve, before the ichthyosaurs;
and now it shines in the depths of a subway station.
Franz is sprightly, light, elated. "As light as air, from heaven I come."
We just didn't pull it off.
We might as well admit it,
or you or whoever was in on it.
There was no discipline. No one took the lead,
one guy against the next. -We were betrayed, Franz,
in 1918-1919 by the bigwigs.
They killed Rosa, and Karl Liebknecht.
People should stick together and do something.
Just look at Russia,
Lenin...
They stick together.
It's a real bond.
Just you wait!
Blood must flow. Blood must flow. Rivers of blood must flow.
I don't give a damn about that.
The world will go bust with waiting,
and you with it.
That's proof enough for me:
They haven't achieved anything. That's enough for me.
Not the slightest thing has been achieved.
I don't know what the guys with these armbands will achieve,
but that's another matter,
and that's all that's important.
-Hot dogs! -Voelkischer Beobachter!
Hot sausages!
Voelkischer Beobachter! Only 20 pfennigs...
Is that a goldfinch?
A she? -That's right.
Well, what do you know? Such a tiny creature!
And it doesn't mind the racket here?
Well, what do you know? Ain't that great?
I wonder if the smoke's good for it...
...with those little lungs?
It's used to that in here. It's always smoky in the bar.
It's not so thick yet.
I won't smoke today, so that it doesn't get too thick.
We can open the window later,
without creating a draft. -Yes.
Blood must flow. Blood must flow. Rivers of blood must flow.
Good evening, Dreske.
Five beers, Max, and make it quick.
What kind of joint is this?
A bit quiet, isn't it?
No pianist? -Who for?
It wouldn't pay.
You must know.
Then we'll sing without a piano. We usually do.
Peoples, hear the signal!
Rise for the final fight!
The Internationale
Fights for human rights
How did you like the song, buddy?
Me? Fine!
You've got good voices.
You can sing along.
No, no. I'd rather eat.
When I've finished eating, I'll sing along,
or I'll sing something on my own.
That's a promise.
Cheers!
There was a guy who ate a sausage sandwich.
In his stomach, it thought better of it. It came back up again and said:
"You forgot the mustard!"
Only then did it go down properly.
That's what a real sausage sandwich does...
...with a good pedigree.
Come on now.
Okay, okay. Leave it to me.
How about it?
Are you gonna sing something for us now?
Sure.
If I make a promise, I keep it.
It drips when you come into the warm. Sniffing doesn't help.
Well, then...
What should I sing for them?
They don't know anything about life,
but a promise is a promise.
I know a poem
from a guy in prison,
a nice poem.
Should you want to be a man And live upon this earth as best you can
Before the moment of your birth By woman wise, give it due consideration
For the world's a vale of lamentation!
First, Good Father State will tend
To keep you on a string From start to end
Tormenting you with special tools A maze of paragraphs and rules
His first commandment reads:
"Pay up, whether old or young!"
The second law is "Hold your tongue!"
Existing in a twilight state
Bewilderment's your lifelong fate
The years have left their mark on you
Moth-eaten hair bears witness too
Your frame begins to crack and creak
Your withering arms and legs Grow weak
The porridge curdles in your head
And ever thinner grows the thread
In short, you see that autumn's here You breathe your last and disappear
Yeah.
That was written by a guy in prison.
It was a long time ago, but I've remembered it.
It's good, isn't it? Something for life,
but it's bitter.
Then just remember
that bit about the state:
"Good Father State",
keeping you on a string.
Learning it by heart
ain't enough.
By no means.
Well, they don't have oysters and caviar any more than we do.
You have to earn your money.
It must be hard for a poor devil.
You can be happy you've got your legs and you're outside.
You can earn your money in different ways.
What about it, then? Are you going to sing us a song?
You make a promise and don't keep it.
Okay, okay.
You'll get your song.
When I make a promise, I keep it.
There comes a call like thunder's roar
Like clash of swords Waves dashing on the shore
Summoned by the drums to fight
My comrade, marching at my side
Advanced in step with me
A bullet came flying free
Meant for you or meant for me?
Him it struck, tore him away
At my feet he lies this day
As if a part of me
I want to reach out to you
But as I load my carbine
I can't extend my hand
Stay, then, in the Promised Land
Good comrade mine
-Good comrade mine -Get off the table!
There comes a call like thunder's roar!
There wasn't a better friend!
To the Rhine, the German, German Rhine!
Guardians all we'd be of thine
Rest easy, dear fatherland of mine!
Strong and true stands the watch
The watch on the Rhine
Strong and true stands the watch
The watch
on the Rhine
My God, there must be other chairs in this place!
What did you eat?
I said there must be other chairs in this place if you use your eyes.
That's not what we're talking about.
I want to know what you've been eating.
Cheese sandwiches, you big ox.
There's the rind for you, you ass.
I can smell that they were cheese sandwiches.
But where did they come from?
I won't have any brawling here. No fighting in my bar!
If you can't keep the peace, out you go!
Keep out of the way!
There won't be any fighting here. We're just settling a score.
If anyone breaks anything, he'll have to pay for it.
I have surrendered.
As long as they don't touch me...
As long as they don't touch me! I don't mind them,
but there'll be trouble if he lays a finger on me.
What kind of two-bit guy is this, Dreske?
-Franz! I beg you. -Let him speak!
Fascists are entitled to speak,
whatever they have to say.
They have freedom of speech here.
See what you've started
with your stuff and your songs?
No, I'm not interfering.
There was never anything like this here.
There comes a call like thunder's roar
Fascist! Butcher!
Hand over that armband.
And make it snappy.
Hand over the armband, I said!
Give me that armband.
I'll take it away from him.
-Get out of here, Biberkopf. -I was just waiting for Lina.
I sit here every evening.
But this is the first time
I've seen these two guys here.
You're a Fascist!
The armband's in your pocket.
You're a Nazi!
I told Dreske why.
I explained it all to him.
But you don't understand. That's why you're yelling.
You were yelling "The Watch on the Rhine".
If you kick up a racket like this,
and sit on my table, there'll never be peace in the world.
Not that way. There must be peace in the world,
so we can work and live.
Factory workers, tradespeople and everyone, so that there's order.
Otherwise, we won't be able to work at all.
What will you loudmouths live on?
You're drunk with words!
All you can do is make trouble and make others hateful,
till they really get malicious and smash you one.
Would you let anyone tread on your toes, you crooks?
You don't know what you're doing.
Knock the fancy ideas out of your heads!
You're ruining the whole world.
Be careful that nothing happens to you,
you cutthroats, you heels.
I did time in Tegel.
It's a terrible life. What a life!
The guy in my poem just now, he knows how things were for me.
He knows exactly how things were for me.
Ida! God... Just don't think about it.
Just don't think about lda!
You can't tell me about that!
There's nothing you can tell me!
Nothing at all.
No one can come here and tell me about things, none of you.
We all know better. We didn't lie out there
in the trenches so that you could come
and hound us, you agitators!
There must be peace! Peace!
There has to be peace!
Peace, nothing but peace!
I'll do something,
grab someone by the throat. No, no...
I'm going to fall, hit the ground.
I thought the world was at peace,
that there was order!
But there's something wrong with the world.
There they stand. Terrible!
I sense it,
and I see myself here.
In Paradise, there lived two people,
Adam and Eve.
And Paradise was the glorious Garden of Eden,
where bird and beast played.
The cloud has passed.
Thank God, it's passed.
The timber magnates insist on their warrant.
Krupp lets his pensioners starve.
One and a half million unemployed:
an increase of 226,000 in 15 days.
I'm going.
The pleasure was all mine.
I'm not responsible for what goes on in your heads.
What I owe, I'll pay tomorrow, Max.
Sorry, Dreske, that something like this had to come between us.
Thee in victory wreath we hail Potatoes with a herring's tail
"Let the despicable, renegade scoundrels,
encouraged by the bourgeoisie and social chauvinists,
disparage the constitution of the Soviets.
It simply accelerates and deepens the rift
between the revolutionary workers of Europe
and the supporters of Scheidemann and so on.
The oppressed masses are on our side."
What's the matter?
Did something happen?
Basically, they're not like that at all.
They just don't know how to cope with all that hot blood.
If they had been in Tegel or had some experience behind them,
maybe it would dawn on them.
Lina!
Oh, Lina, I thought you wouldn't come at all.
Lina, my little one...
...you know...
...I love you so.
What happened, Franz?
Something must have happened.
What should have happened?
What can have happened...
...when I tell you I love you so?
What should have happened?
It's okay, Franz. Go ahead and do it, Franz.
A bite from you...
End of part two, with