Good evening, Pierre
Studying?
Yes
How was the opera?
Lovely
Natalya Rostova was there
Oh?
Oh, that charming young girl?
I have known her since she was a child
And long carried affection for her
Yes, charming
Look, Dolokhov is coming round
And we are off to the Club
Will you come, old man?
I will come
Lend me fifty rubles?
Drink, drink
Gonna drink tonight
Gonna drink tonight
Gonna drink
Gonna drink
Gonna drink tonight
Gonna drink tonight
Gonna drink tonight
Gonna
Drink, drink
Gonna drink tonight
Gonna drink tonight
Gonna
Gonna drink
Gonna drink tonight
Gonna drink tonight
Gonna drink tonight
Drink with me my love
For there's fire in the sky
And there's ice on the ground—
Either way, my soul will die
Whoa
The doctors warn me
That, with my corpulence
Vodka and wine are dangerous for me
But I drink a great deal
Only quite at ease
After pouring several glasses
Mechanically into my large mouth
Then I feel
A pleasant warmth in my body
A sentimental attachment to my fellow men
Keep drinking old man
Keep drinking old man
Drink the whole night through
Keep drinking old man
Keep drinking old man
Drink the whole night through
Keep drinking old man
Now, Anatole
What women tonight?
Moscow ladies
Or Gypsy girls?
French actresses?
Just no more unmarried heiresses
So plain and boring!
And a little too dangerous, eh?
Anatole is a married man
A fact known only to his intimates
A Polish landowner of some small means
Had forced him to marry his daughter
Never mind about that now
It doesn't matter, I don't give a damn
Just as a duck is made to swim in water
God has made me as I am
All I care for is gaiety and women
And there's no dishonor in that
As long as there's money and vodka
I'll keep a feather in my hat
Whoa
I used to love
I used to love
I used to be better
Keep drinking old man
Yes, drink, drink, drink
Drink, drink, drink
God, to think I married a man like you
Don't speak to me, wife—
There is something inside me
Dolokhov, pour me another
Something terrible and monstrous
Here's to the health of married women!
And a smile lurks in the corner of my mouth
Here's to the health of married women
And their lovers!
Here's to the health of married women!
Here's to the health of married women
And their lovers!
Here's to the health of married women!
Here's to the health of married women
And their lovers!
How dare you touch her?
You can't love her!
Enough!
You bully, you scoundrel!
I challenge you!
Oh, a duel!
Yes, this is what I like
He will kill you
Stupid husband!
So I shall be killed
What is it to you!
Anatole, my guns
Oh, this is horribly stupid!
Just show me where to go
And tell me when to shoot
Just wait 'til you're close enough
You'll never hit him from forty paces
Well, let's begin
This is child's play
As the adversaries have refused a reconciliation
We shall please proceed with the duel
Ready your pistols
And on the count of tri
Begin to advance
Rahz! Dva! Tri!
Pierre, hold your fire
Pierre, hold your fire
Pierre, not yet!
No!
My turn
My turn
Pierre!
Stand back!
Missed
Missed
Oh my mother, my angel
My adored angel mother!
Take him away
Missed
Missed
Such a storm of feelings
You are a fool
Natasha, Natasha
Her arms, her shoulders
Her neck, her feet
The air of a connoisseur
I will m**e to her
And what will come of it?
She's first-rate, my dear
But she's not for you—
You'd better wait till she's married
You know I adore little girls
They lose their heads at once
Ask her to dinner, eh?
Sweet sister
