Love and Death Page #4

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.

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