The other son.
He never killed a fatted calf for me,
all the years I worked here by his side.
You spent your birthright; here I stayed tied
to these green squares of land while you fled free.
But I have served him well; you will not see
a better vineyard in a five-days' ride.
You have nothing, and have come to hide
among the swineherds, swathed in penury.
Well, we can't have that.. No, try this red.
It's one I'm rather proud of, our best year.
My clothes hang rather loosely, but I feel
we should put some meat back first, instead
of buying you new clothes to burst. Here,
I'll cut you more of this delicious veal.