Love and Death Page #7

- No, a greater honour for me.

- No, a greater honour for me.

- Well, perhaps it is a greater for you.

- You must be Don Francisco's sister.

- You must be Don Francisco's sister.

- No, you must be Don Francisco's sister.

- No, you must be Don Francisco's sister.

- No, it's a greater honour for me.

- Our guests have a sense of humour.

- She's a great kidder.

- No, you're a great kidder.

No, you're Don Francisco's sister.

- Shall we dine?

- Oh, can we eat first?

Your sister and His Highness

seem to be getting along quite well.

Do you find me attractive as a man?

Yes. I think that's your best bet.

How much of your feelings for me

are because I rule half of Europe?

Oh, I'd say half my feelings. It evens out.

Will you be more difficult

to conquer than Russia?

Well, I weigh less.

- I'll go to your room after dinner.

- Good. I'll go to yours.

Come in.

Sonja, I've been thinking

about this. It's murder.

If everybody did this,

it'd be a world full of murderers.

- What would that do to property values?

- I know.

If everybody went to

the same restaurant one evening

to eat blintzes, there'd be chaos.

But they don't.

I tell her murder. She tells me blintzes.

Hey, you said yourself

there is no right or wrong.

- It's what you choose.

- That's right,

and I choose danger.

- Oh, really?

- No, but it sounded great tonight.

Oh, Boris.

If only we could be children again.

Yeah, I know. Preferably French children.

Do you know the only truly happy person

I know is Berdykov, the village idiot?

It's easier to be happy

if your only concern

is figuring out how much saliva to dribble.

- Kiss me.

- Which one do you want?

- Give me a number eight.

- That's two fours. That's an easy one.

Coming!

- Are you alone?

- Of course.

- I thought I heard voices.

- I was praying.

- I heard two voices.

- Oh, well, I do both parts.

Champagne! From France.

I see you brought the whole kit.

- To your eyes.

- To the bridge of your nose.

My lust knows no bounds.

Shall we... to the bed?

Shall we what to the bed?

Forgive my haste.

We have always heard

that Spanish blood is the hottest.

- I had mine cooled for the summer.

- You may set the pace.

Good. Why don't we just

sit awhile and build slowly?

You don't want to peak too early.

You'll be gone before midnight.

- You are a temptress.

- Oh, please, Excellency.

- Call me Napoleon.

- Good. You can call me Napoleon, too.

I've never met a woman like you.

I could rest my head on your shoulder

like this for ever.

Yes, it sounds like it'd be fun,

except for the grease mark.

His Excellency.

- What's that?

- Oh, just a breeze.

A breeze with mice.

Mice, what's the difference?

If I had a woman like you

instead of my wife,

I would conquer all of Europe.

- What's that?

- What? Oh, that.

I think that was the old closet door

slamming shut.

One can't be too careful. The Russian

underground would love me dead.

I take a great chance

in an occupied territory.

Assassins surround me.

Every day

is another encounter with death.

Yes, well... This is the price

one pays for political power.

Yes, life at the top is hell.

Which is why

I relish every minute with you.

Every second means something to me.

That's why the sooner...

The sooner we consummate

the act of love, the happier I will be.

- Go ahead.

- I can't.

- Don Francisco.

- Shoot!

Put down that pistol. She's over 18.

You're a tyrant and a dictator

and you start wars.

- Why is he reciting my credits?

- Kill him!

- Guards!

- No.

Boris, we're not here on a vacation.

I can't shoot him. He's a human being.

He'll bleed on the carpet.

Give me that gun.

See? It's not so easy.

Why? Why can't I do it?

Because it's morally wrong.

- I see. Can you define your terms?

- There's a moral imperative here.

- Where?

- By killing Napoleon, you kill yourself,

because we're involved

in a kind of a total absolute.

Come on. We're not.

You're being pantheistic again.

How is that pantheistic? We all

relate universally to a giant oneness.

You wanna hit him? He's coming to again.

Just give him a little shot.

We're dealing with an ethical question.

You're not gonna quote

Thomas Aquinas again?

Absolutely. He said "Never kill a man,

particularly if it means taking his life."

What?

If we don't stop him,

he'll burn down half of Europe.

Maybe it'll be

the half with our landlord in it.

- Boris. For our children.

- We don't have any.

- For our parents.

- They don't have children.

- Well, I'm gonna kill him.

- Sonja.

- I am.

- No. All right. Look,

pull the carriage out front. I'll go kill him.

Look at him. If I don't kill him,

he'll make war all through Europe.

But murder?

What would Socrates say?

All those Greeks were homosexuals.

Boy, they must have had

some wild parties.

I bet they all took a house together

on Crete for the summer.

(a) Socrates is a man.

(b) All men are mortal.

(c) All men are Socrates.

That means all men are homosexuals.

I'm not a homosexual.

Once, some Cossacks whistled at me.

I happen to have the kind of body

that excites both persuasions.

But, you know,

some men are heterosexual,

and some men are bisexual,

and some men don't think about sex at all.

They become lawyers.

My problem is that

I see both sides of every issue.

I'm too logical.

You know, the world is not logical.

If it was logical, how would Old Nehamkin

be younger than Young Nehamkin?

I knew there was something crazy

about that when I was a kid,

but every time I said something,

they'd smack me. So, you know,

I'm just racked with guilt

and I'm consumed with remorse

and stricken with suffering

for the human race.

And not only that, but I'm developing

a herpes on my lip here

that is really killing me.

What to do?

Arrest this man for murder.

Fortunately, he only killed an impostor.

I didn't do anything.

Hey, take it easy, will you?

You're bending my throat.

The Spanish government

will hear about this.

Don Francisco is not a man

who takes these things lightly.

There's Don Francisco now.

There's been a mistake. I know - I made it.

By some miracle, Sonja managed

to elude the French and escape.

I, with my usual good luck, got thrown

in a damp cell to await execution -

my favourite pastime.

Fortunately, it was a Frenchjail,

so the food was not bad.

My family was allowed to visit me.

Remember that nice boy next door?

Raskolnikov?

- Yeah?

- He killed two ladies.

No! What a nasty story.

Bobick told it to me. He heard it

from one of the Karamazov brothers.

- He must have been possessed.

- Well, he was a raw youth.

- Raw youth? He was an idiot.

- And he acted insulted and injured.

- I hear he was a gambler.

- You know, he could be your double.

Really? How novel.

Son,

for long years

I have saved this piece of land for you.

- Look, it has a house on it.

- Yes, it's a nice little house.

You haven't wasted your life, I see.

Don't let any strangers come on it.

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