Finian McLonergan:
How are things in Glocca Morra?
Og:
Oh, alas, alack, and willy-wally! I weep for Ireland.
Finian McLonergan:
Why, what's happened?
Og:
A blight has fallen over Ireland!
Finian McLonergan:
The British are back?
Og:
Never have I seen such a curse befall a folk in all me four hundrend and fifty... nine years! Poor Ireland!
Finian McLonergan:
Poor Ireland!
Og:
Suffering Ireland! The native land!
Finian McLonergan:
Me native land! A fine lot of faery folk you are! You and your associates letting all this happen! Why don't you wish it away?
Og:
We've lost the power!
Finian McLonergan:
You've lost the power to make wishes? What has Ireland to live for now! Answer me that!
Og:
Doom and gloom! DOOOOOOOOM AND GLOOOOOOOOM!
Finian McLonergan:
Who's the author of this foul outrage?
Og:
A monster, McLonnergan!
Finian McLonergan:
A monster? You mean the old flame-breathing type with the head of a dragon?
Og:
Oh, no, this is a tiny wee monster, about... your size.
Finian McLonergan:
Lead me to him! Who is this monster?
Og:
You'll excuse me for pointing, Mr. McLonnergan... but it's you.

Film

Sulle ali dell'arcobaleno (1968)

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