Viva Zapata!

Josefa, I must speak with you. Shh!
- The rurales are after you.
- I risked my life to come here.

- When may I speak with your father?
- What for?

- To ask permission for your hand.
- No, don't do it.

- Why not?
- Just don't do it.

- What is wrong with me?
- That's not it.

- What would be wrong with me?
- What do you mean?

I have no intention of ending up
washing clothes in a ditch...

...and patting tortillas
like an Indian.

Who says this?
- My father.
- My mother was a Salazar.

Zapatas were chieftains and
when your grandfather lived in a cave.

Always remember that.
Well, you're not chieftains now.
You have no land, no money.

- You'll be in jail by tomorrow.
- Be still!