Here, you read it, then. Come on!
- Okay.
- Which part?
- Right here.
- Could you step away, please?
- Me?
- You.
- Sure.
- I travelled…
…gambled…
…played, and laboured hard.
Learned friendship…
…earned a broken heart.
I cared not for titles…
…knew no fame.
I’ve nothing left in life…
…except for you.
A charming angel, and a precious ewe.
Your love, your smile…
…your look, your very breath,
I feel alive…
…as long as they are mine.
Without them, no happiness divine…
No soul…
…no feelings…
…nothing short of death.
That’s it.
Loves her crazy.
To death.
That’s all.
- Listen, Lopukhin…
I don’t know whether you have talent…
But you seem to get it.
And that’s no small feat.
- Let Lopukhin play Arbenin, then.
Since he seems to “get him.”
- Why not, seriously?
Go for Arbenin, Bramble!
- Draw lots, then.
- What for?
Come on, Mitya. And I’ll do Zvezdich.
Let’s swap and no hurt feelings, eh?
- No.
Furikov’s right.
Let the fates decide.
Draw lots.
- Well, what is it?
- Arbenin.
- Sleeping?
Excellent.
Breathing deeply?
Very good.
Well-well…
Sweet dreams.
“Insomnia”
“Middle of the Summer”
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