Love and Death Page #2

What's going on downstairs?

Have you heard the news?

Napoleon has invaded Austria.

- Why? ls he out of Courvoisier?

- A chance to taste the glories of battle.

Check with me when it's over...

- No, Boris. You're going to fight.

- You're gonna have your head examined.

- We leave the day after tomorrow.

- Fellas, I'm a pacifist.

- I don't believe in war.

- He doesn't believe in war.

Napoleon, he believes in war.

What are you going to do when

the French soldiers rape your sister?

- I don't have one.

- That's no answer.

- They won't rape lvan. They'd throw up.

- Don't disgrace me in front of my friends.

What good is war? We kill Frenchmen,

they kill Russians, then it's Easter.

Boris, you're talking about Mother Russia.

She's not my mother. My mother wouldn't

let her youngest get shrapnel in his gums.

- Get away from me.

- I can't believe what I'm seeing.

- He has a yellow streak down his back.

- No, it runs across.

- Boris, you're a coward.

- Yes, but a militant coward.

Boris. Medals... We'll get medals.

Take it easy, lvan.

You've got to cut down on your raw meat.

He'll go and he'll fight.

And I hope they will put him

in the front lines.

Thanks a lot, Mum. My mother, folks.

This is crazy. I can't shoot a gun.

I was meant to write poetry.

Sonja, I'm not the army type.

I slept with the light on till I was 30.

I can't shower with other men.

Friends. My friends.

On the eve of this glorious occasion,

I have an announcement to make.

Because we go into battle, perhaps

never to see our loved ones again,

I wish to announce

that tomorrow I intend to marry.

I'm going to take as my bride

a woman I have grown up with.

Anna lvanova.

Ivan.

I'm sorry. I should have told you.

I also have an announcement to make.

Tomorrow, I too get married.

I have been proposed to

and have accepted the hand of

Sergei lvanovich Minskov.

Yes... I mean Leonid Voskovec,

the herring merchant.

You! Get out here!

You're the worst soldier I ever seen.

- You ignorammus!

- Ignoramus, sir.

- You want a dishonourable discharge?

- Yes, sir. Or a furlough.

Goddamn you!

You love Russia, don't you?

- Yessir.

- Louder!

- You like it here?

- Yessir!

- You want to make a career in the army?

- Well, let's not get carried away.

You can clean the mess hall

and the latrine!

Yessir. How will I tell the difference?

OK.

One, two! One, two! One, two!

Three is next, if you're having any trouble.

Naturally, the war affects

the herring industry.

The ports are blockaded.

Fresh shipments of the herring

become more difficult to obtain.

And, of course, when something

hurts herring, it hurts me.

What people don't understand

is that there are hundreds

of types of herring,

each with its own interesting history.

Sonja. Are you OK?

Oh, yes.

But I've talked long enough.

Why don't you two play, as I have got

some important business to attend to?

A capital idea.

Ready? And a one and a two...

And...

- You stopped.

- What would you think

if I told you you were one of the most

beautiful women I have ever seen?

I'd think what a mad fool he is.

And what would you say

if I suddenly put my arms around you?

I'd think what a mad,

impetuous fool he is.

And what would you think if I kissed you?

I'd think what a mad,

impetuous, wonderful fool he is.

- Don't!

- I must!

- We just ate.

- Your skin, it is so beautiful.

Yes, I know. It covers my whole body.

I must have you.

No, not on the piano. It's a rented piano.

Darling, my darling, my...

Sonja!

Sonja, did you see a jar of wine sauce?

- Come to my quarters tomorrow at three.

- I can't.

- Please!

- It's immoral. What time?

- Who is to say what is moral?

- Morality is subjective.

Subjectivity is objective.

Moral notions imply attributes

to substances

which exist only in relational duality.

Not as an essential extension

of ontological existence.

Can we not talk about sex so much?

- I'm terribly sorry.

- You'd better go.

- Sonja, please.

- No, I mean it.

Men...

Next week, we leave for the front.

The object will be to kill

as many Frenchmen as possible.

Naturally, they are going to try

and kill as many Russians as possible.

If we kill more Frenchmen, we win.

If they kill more Russians, they win.

What do we win?

What do we win, Private?

Imagine your loved ones

conquered by Napoleon

and forced to live under French rule.

Do you want them to eat

that rich food and those heavy sauces?

No.

Do you want them to have

souffl every meal and croissant?

No.

Men, since you are all getting a three-day

furlough before going into battle,

we would like to show you

this little hygiene play.

Goodbye. I hope you had a good time.

I did. I had a good time.

What's this sore on my lip?

I'd better see the doctor.

Doc, I have this sore on my lip.

- You have a social disease, my friend.

- Oh, my God.

If you do not treat it, you will go blind.

Or insane!

Well, men. That is the end of the play.

Have a good time on your furlough,

but look after yourselves!

- Well, what did you think of the play?

- It was weak. I was never interested.

Although the doctor

was played with gusto.

The girl had a delightful cameo role.

A satire of contemporary mores, a spoof

aimed more at the heart than the head.

I'm planning to spend

the next three days in a brothel.

- Can't you come with me?

- No. I went to a brothel once in my life.

I got hiccups. It was over like that.

And there's someone I must see

in Saint Petersburg.

Well, have fun.

I think the Magic Flute

is Mozart's greatest opera.

It's a hell of an opera, isn't it?

Do they sell popcorn?

We're so delighted you decided

to spend your furlough with us.

You were always our favourite nephew.

Even though you are

an incredible coward.

Thank you so much.

Any news of cousin Sonja?

Only that she and Voskovec

are unhappy and she takes lovers.

- She takes uppers?

- Lovers.

Oh, lovers.

Hey. Who is that?

That's the Countess Alexandrovna.

One of the most enticing women

in Saint Petersburg.

Ample bosoms, yes?

I'd say ample for a regiment.

She's recently widowed.

They say her husband, the Count,

died in her arms

trying to satisfy

her prodigious sexual desires.

No kidding! Died smiling, I bet.

Who's the character with her

with the wry moustache?

That's Anton lvanovich Lebedokov,

her current lover.

Although the way she's staring at you...

I could work something out with him.

I'd let him warm her up.

I could come in and finish her.

You must be careful of Anton lvanovich.

He has a furious temper.

- Really?

- He has killed several men in duels.

All in a jealous rage over the Countess.

Glad you mentioned it.

Think I'll watch the opera.

Ah, there is something about Mozart!

Well, I think you're probably

responding to his music.

Couldn't you be careful?

I believe...

I believe that the lobby of...

I believe that the lobby of the St Pete...

Opera House

is one of the most beautiful in Europe.

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