MOSFILM Comedy HUSSAR BALLAD Written by A.GLADKOV
Co-written by E.RYAZANOV Directed by Eldar RYAZANOV Director of Photography
Leonid KRAINENKOV Production Designers
M.BOGDANOV, G.MYASNIKOV Coctume Designer
O.KRUCHININA Music by Tikhon KHRENNIKOV Starring Larisa GOLUBKINA
Yuri YAKOVLEV Kutuzov – Igor ILYINSKY Ivan – Nikolai KRYUCHKOV
Azarov – Victor KOLTSOV Count Nurin – Antony KHODURSKY Jermon – Tatiana SHMYGA
Pelymov – Lev POLYAKOV Again alone, again astride. Your love of riding’s
not a sin, it’s not. But, frankly, you should know
where to stop. It doesn’t behoove you
to be childish at 17. Well, it’s not 117! Ah, uncle, don’t lecture me
on morals. Shura dear, what will you
be wearing? – You want to outshine them all?
– Do tell me. – Oh, I really don’t know.
– Make up your mind, my doe. – There’s still time.
– The ball’s on everybody’s lips. It’s being eagerly awaited. Make a guess. I will be wearing a fancy dress. Little fidget… Three thousand devils! My good man, tell the Major that Brigadier Rzhevsky’s nephew has a letter for him. Don’t stand and look at me.
I’m not a gingerbread. This is an honor,
Lieutenant Rzhevsky! Are you a cornet? In full-dress uniform! – No… I mean yes.
– What a surprise! I do salute you, brother. A hussar is a brother to a hussar. What brings you here? You’re not a relative, are you? – Oh yes, I am.
– So much the better. You now tell me all about them. I am at your service. Lives here maiden Alexandra, a Russian Rosine. Oh, Shurochka!
She is my cousin. Deliver all you know about her. I am betrothed to her
since childhood. Being a cousin, you must know it. Yes, I’ve heard about the betrothal. – So it is you?
– Alas, my friend. – Alas? But why?
– Listen, can you punt? – Er… Yes.
– Then you will understand. I lost my money gambling. Uncle, an old fogy, helped me, on condition that I marry her.
I promised. I was desperate,
or maybe dead drunk. The day of reckoning has come. – I’m truly sorry.
– At least she’s rich. – Oh no, not at all.
– Well, no matter. A drowning man is
catching at a straw. – Suppose–
– Suppose what? What if my cousin likes you not? Hussars, let it be known, don’t know the word “no.” Should I decide to cross
the hell gate, any gal would wish to be my mate. Back to your cousin though. I bet she’s plain and homely. – Far from it.
– A beauty then? – Don’t know what to say…
– Neither fish nor fowl. I thought so! Affected creatures
they are called. “Ideal” is forever on her lips. She’s fidgety and whining. A dolt, she wags her tongue
without letup. Your judgement is so harsh. An older guy, I know women better. You must have had no luck with them. I could get harnessed
many a time but freedom is a motto of mine. – Are you as cautious in the field?
– Cornet! I meant no offense, lieutenant. – I do apologize.
– Now I demand to know if you have amours
with my betrothed. My word of honor!
I don’t shave yet. And I can not steal the hearts
of fair maidens. It is the priviledge of you,
mustachioed men. Well, then, I take you
under my wing. I’m really delighted
to have met you. Me too, dear cornet.
A hussar is a brother to a hussar. Lieutenant Rzhevsky! Ah, here you are at last. – Have you seen my niece?
– I haven’t. It’s ages since we met. Oh, we are giving a ball tonight. Your sweet betrothed has turned 17. The cook is wondering
what broth you wish prepared
for the sauce. – Lieutenant Rzhevsky!
– In the flesh. – I am delighted.
– Enchante. We’ll soon be fam’ly I believe. Hope you mind not if I take leave. You came from Petersburg – …or Moscow?
– From Moscow if you please. And how do you like our quiet place? You live here,
that’s enough for me to like your town. You’re nice indeed. A hussar always speaks his mind. Which books d’you fancy? Say, “Clarissa.” The best ‘mong other novels, what? I am awfully sorry.
I read it not. How long d’you plan
to stay around here? I’ve got a month-long leave and it is drawing to a close. What color’d you suggest for this? Bordeau and orange are in today. If you ask me
what’s my pleasure, I will answer: it is azure. Oh no, azure doesn’t really fit. Red wine and grey
would do the trick. – Whatever you say.
– Oh, many thanks. I would like to give you a cushion. Really… I’m not worthy of your favors. I made it with my own hands. True, the design is not at all new. A question I would like to ask you. – Do you cry often?
– Phew. There’s nothing in the world
like pure tears. What do you say of “Werther”? I have not read it either. Do read it.
It’s amazing! Where is your uncle? Haven’t you gazed at stars in melancholy moonlight or wept in perfect sorrow? If you have,
I’ll open you a secret… Sir, will you proceed
into my master’s study. Count Nurin. Dear Count, what a surprise! You’re very welcome.
It’s an honor. Let me introduce my niece. You were a little child when I left these parts. Quite so. How is Paris? Oh, it’s paradise! I wonder if it’s true the French
are going to war with us. Pah! There’ll never be any war. I’m not faint-hearted I swear but we can’t measure swords
with Europe, ne’er. Not possible! La France and us! Advise us the best minds
against engagement with la France. I saved the cotillion for us. I am overwhelmed. We’ll finish our debate on the ideal tears. How I wish to tilt the balance
in my favor! There’s half a chapter
in “Werther…” Shura dear, sing for us
the ballad the lieutenant sang last time. – What? Now?
– Please do. It’s fine. My charming girl, I’m leaving.
Farewell, adieu, goodbye. A stray bullet may cut short
My earthly life, I’ll die. Should Lady Fortune fail me
And I fall in the war, Armida, please remember
My very short life. O! Me, dangling from the saddle,
All soaked in blood and sweat, My horse will race to maples
Away from martial hell. The setting sun above me
Which nothing ever feels Throws a blood-red reflection
On my hussar’s pelisse. Invisible hand of sunset
Will bless me, poor thing, The maple very gently
Will rustle your name to me. One’s loftiest lot– believe me– is
To love and sing and dream And lay down one’s own life
For Motherland so dear. Lovely! You should be an actress, cherie. – Their life is one feast.
– That’s not my cup of tea. I’ll be back in a fancy dress. Mazurka! Here you are, cornet.
Where have you been? I looked for you.
It’s so boring here. I am at your service. A ball can never bore one. It is my cousin’s fault
that you are bored. Being with her I endured a lot. – Oh yes, you spoke with her…
– Who? My cousin, damn her! Even now
the back of my head is aching. Like Eden’s serpent I wormed out her impression
about the would-be husband. She’s head over heels in love. She liked you not at all. She didn’t? You showered compliments
on her for nothing. Me showered? She’s never seen such
insolent guys she said. And – pardon me – your mustache is hanging
down like bast. How dares she! I– Also you have the manners
of a horse groom. I wouldn’t swap one mare
for the likes of– And of all the faces that she knows she hasn’t seen
a more repulsive one. A thousand devils! Since she doesn’t fance me
there will be no wedding. Wrong. She said she couldn’t oppose
her Uncle’s will. She’d marry a beast
if she is told to, for even bears can be schooled. I believe every word of yours. You are the best friend
among them all. All airs and graces,
wry-faced fool! So you’ll not marry her at all? I wish I could. I owe my uncle
and I will repay my debt. Do not lose heart!
Let’s go and dance. But first let us drink brotherhood. They have delish Clicot. I’m flattered but… – You are my superior.
– Oh nonsense! Equality is where you hear
the clanging of a hussar’s spurs. Attention, ladies an’ gentlemen! Misfortune has aflicted our land. Storm clouds covered our skies. On the thirteenth
the Buonaparte troops a-forced the Niemen. The hour of trial struck. I hope all will do
their soldier’s duty and officers will join their units. – Great!
– We will be equal to the test. The ball’s suspended, gentlemen. – Sorry, my friend.
– Don’t be, Your Highness. We’ll die for our Motherland. No better lot than dying
for your country. N’est pas, cornet? – Allow me to take my leave.
– Bad luck. Drop me a line. We’ll find each other
if we survive the war after the dawn of vict’ry breaks. Won’t you say goodbye
to my sweet cousin? Not I. Not worthy of that damsel. Give her my compliments. To you I’ll kiss goodbye. – Oh, Shurochka!
– Pardon! Appropriate garb –
and the occasion fits. Bravissimo, bravo! We are discussing
how to help our troops. We will prepare lint
for the sick quarters. How did he put it? “No better lot than dying for your dear country…” If only I could have my way, I would be glad to die in action on a warhorse swift as wind. My, miss! What are you wearing? A real hussar with military bearing! You want a warhorse
and a naked sword– and you are fit for a parade. I’d be happy to be your orderly e’en tho I’ve served properly. The guests are gone.
It’s time to sleep. Listen, would you serve with me if I were a man? I spoke to my master ’bout it. Whene’er I see an enemy
attacking my Homeland, I want to be of use and spill my blood for it. Take me along. I’m serious.
A hussar’s before you. You taught me how to shoot. You mentioned horse and sword.
There is no option. Are you mocking at your
faithful servant? I’ll tell the master to keep
an eye on you. I am not daunted. I’ll go even if you lock me in. All Russians have an idee fixe –
how to save our land from foes. And me here doing fancywork! I want to prove my worth
and show my mettle in action! If I am killed, the fault is yours,
yours only, for you refused to be my orderly. Well then, goodbye! You will be found out
in no time. Have no fear, old man.
No one will know, ever. So I am going all alone? Well, God favors brave souls. And your uncle. He’ll be prostrate not finding you on the estate. He is thinking of your wedding. I’ll write to him– but later. Well, go tell them to lock the door.
I’ll use a window– and be off. Please, do forgive me, an old fool. I served Suvorov, I’ll serve you. Get ready, I’ll wait for you here. – Saddle the horses!
– I’ll fail you not, dear. Farewell, my good old home. Could be for good. Here I spent my carefree childhood, I played and frolicked too. Then I reached maidenhood. Farewell, my sweet, good old home! Magic moonlit clearings. Night is light as day. Sleep as I did, dearest, Many years away. Hide your face in pillow As I did one time. Stars, those shiny freckles, Guard your sleep and mine. Trees in our garden Rustle their leaves. Dawn will break, so sudden. What it promises? The candle’s burning low, It’ll burn down soon. Sleep, my very own, As I used to do. – I hear the roar of fighting.
– Our army’s near. What are you going to say? That I fell behind my regiment and I’m bursting to go into action. Nobody can say I lie. Oh miss, look there… in the rye. What’s with you, captain? I’m wounded in the chest. I’ve got a letter to dispatch. Cornet, you will accomplish
the mission the Field Marshal charged me with, without any delay. Across the river our rearguard is battling
with Murat. I’ll prove I can be trusted. Now go – and help you God! He’s bad. You stay with him. But miss– Do it! See you later, cap. Your Highness, a dispatch
from the Field Marshal. What? Blood? You’re hurt? Not me. The messenger.
He gave me the dispatch. A bullet hit his chest. It’s war, no less. You’re an ace trooper.
I’d gladly take you as an aide in the headquarters. My pleasure! Murat is out to encircle us. The Marshal’s order’s to retreat. Once there lived King Henry, A nice and jovial bloke. Very seldom was he sober, Was drinking till he broke… He loved war to distraction And fought like a game cock And in hand-to-hand action He was worth e’en two blokes. One day Death, bony old hag, came for him with a crutch. He punched her in the ear, Yes, with his knightly clutch. To Moscow But Death, so sly and crafty, Was on the watch for him And dealt a deadly blow– Right! – underhandedly… The blow sent him reeling, Blood gushed out of his wound. Old reprobate passed out Unseemly as he lived… Here’s a dispatch from headquarters. A dispatch? For whom? – I am an aide-de-camp.
– Of course you are. – Whom do I hand it to?
– Vasiliev’s on the scout. Then who? His deputy perhaps? That’s another matter.
No problem. Lieutenant, it’s for you.
Stand up whene’er you see a staff officer. A staffer again!
Vodka would be better. My! Is that you, lieutenant? How come? I never thought I’d meet you here. Half-asleep, I didn’t recognize you. – Good to see you.
– They seem to know each other! – Here’s your orders.
– I spit on orders! Cornet Azarov, a friend of mine. Make the hussar feel welcome. We proudly ask you to join our intimate circle. Guerrilla hospitality’s well known. Please share lunch with us. Don’t you have a bottle
by any chance? – No, sorry.
– Clearly, your record isn’t big. Tell me about yourself.
How are you doing? I am fine. My cousin sends her love. Please, not a word about her. – A cousin?
– Well, I never. – Come on, tell us.
– I’d rather not. You saucy guy. – It’s nothing.
– Stop dodging. Very well. He is my witness. Uncle decided to marry me off. It was the meannest day
in my life. The girl… Oh God! The cold’s
striking through me. Can she be that ugly? A reg’lar fright. – What, cornet?
– You’re not being fair. – She’s pretty.
– Her nose is a plum, her eyes are saucers,
her hair’s oakum. She is a silly goose, she is. – She’s not a fright, I’m sure.
– Well, tastes differ. But on the whole
she is loathsome. Worse still, she fell head over heels in love with me. – What’s with you, cornet?
– I am fine. They gave a ball that night. She followed me like shadow, couldn’t tear her languishing
eyes off me. I bet that’s not the whole story. You kissed her
in some secluded corner. I don’t want to be immodest. Well, I did.
What is it, cornet? – Oh, nothing.
– No great sin. I couldn’t, by my faith, backtrack as she was struggling outa dress. – You are a nice one!
– O how I hate affected creatures
an’ wry-faced fools. If one of such ever gets in trouble, I’ll run away, er,
at the double. Suppose my cousin comes to grief, – would you possibly be as stiff?
– Of course I would. – I bet my life that you–
– What? …are slandering yourself.
That’s that. Let’s make a bet: if I save a fashion-conscious
woman – I’ll–
– …marry her without much ado. Never happen, that’s for sure. Break our hands somebody here. A French wagon train we spotted
in the forest. Follow me, friends!
We’ll greet’em a la Russe. What? Rags and piles of silk. Heh! Guns. Just what we need. This trophy comes in handy. Rejoyce, hussars, there’s wine! Hey, if my eyesight fails me not, it’s Louise Jermon! Is it a dream or what? – Join us, Jermon.
– Where are you from? – How nice.
– What’s that for, guys? I’d rather believe in bird
flitting outa brook. Here, on our camp the goddess of your dreams
and fancies! I like your flatt’ry. Yes, that’s me. Hey, Pelymov, come over here. He was your beauty’s slave last winter. Tell me your story.
Where’re you from? Not so fast.
I’ll first take breath. We won’t allow you
to be with Frenchmen. I don’t wish to go to them. Three cheers for Jermon! When lilac flames of punch
are sparkling And with delight–yes,
with delight–we’re all aglow. We sing refrain–o, so inspiring!– Long long ago, long long ago,
long long ago. We are a little bit superstitious. We only trust in wine
because we’ve always known: In it we drown all chimeras. Long long ago… Hussars are wallowing in glory. It seems what more they wish
in life, what more? Their hearts got rusty
lacking practice Long long ago… Our war life’s not a bed of roses, We risk our lives
and may be killed at every mo. Mass for th’ repose
of our souls was said Long ago… – To our Mother-Russia!
– Allow me, monsieurs. I have performed in many lands. But my success here I hold dearest. I love you all and Russia
is my second home. Hurray, Jermon! Now sing for us. – Please do.
– Oh no, monsieurs. I don’t remember… Your memory has always
failed you. Oh, here is one ditty. But don’t judge me harshly. Excitement, war, long traveling… My sweetheart, my dearest, Forget the sad past. My dearest, my sweetheart, There’s no force stronger than our love! Wine’s flowing freely, I’m drinking and drinking. I’m drinking and drinking. And everything’s reeling. And if there’s no morrow, And it’s curtains for me, I won’t be in sorrow, I won’t mourn and grieve. For the glass has the bottom, The gun has the lead. There’s wine flowing freely, I’m drinking and drinking… – You are a goddess, yes!
– Don’t lose your head! I’d lose my life for you, Louise,
not just my head. A fortune-teller said I’d fall
for a dark-haired woman. – What’s with you?
– Oh, nothing. Let me tell you something. With every hour I like you
more and more. I don’t like actresses… Oh, my memory! More of the same. Fortune-telling? Nonsense! I say, Lieutenant, – …he is cute.
– Too young for you! – Give me your elbow.
– You dare! – Are you jealous?
– Me? What an idea! I’ve never drunk so much. I swear on my life. My life was… Is… No matter, I will sing… Now. – Quiet everybody!
– Please, please! – Be serious about it.
– He breathes juvenescence. Mademoiselle, I’ve got the essence. I’m called an immature greenhorn. I couldn’t care less, that’s true. I’m not faint-hearted,
they have known it Long long ago… Some guys twirl their mustache
so fiercely, And every day they get drunk
as a lord. They’ve been a parody of hussar For so long, for so long. One guy said he’s all love
and passion. But don’t believe a single word. His passion on the bottle’s bottom Has been for long,
has been for long. All lovers take life very easy. ’bout future don’t give a straw. They don’t know they may be cheated. This practice has been in for long. – What’s with him?
– He is sick. – Hey, water!
– We, old soaks, – are used to sprees.
– Unbutt’n his tunic! No, no! I… I am just hot. Still I don’t like them females. Your eyes are shining!
Just one kiss. – No, no!
– Don’t I deserve that bliss? Bingo! I’ll be back. Don’t you wish to speak to me? – Believe–
– Do not continue. – Want to hear the truth?
– Neither the truth, – …not the untruth I want to hear.
– Oh please. Do not involve me
in your tricks. – You will regret it.
– Maybe. But that’s the way I am. Pierre, I vow fidelity. Spare me your vows. – Surprise, surprise!
– Oh, flowers! Flowers in winter! How nice! – I promised nothing.
– Have mercy! I’ll give the flowers to one who’s dearest to me, monsieurs. – There is a custom in Provence.
– My flowers! But why? – It is Pelymov!
– More wine for me! Cornet, here’s to you! Give me the flower, now! The wine has gone into his head. – He’s devilishly hotheaded.
– Thanks, mademoiselle. Very well. I challenge you to a duel! I challenge you, I do. Keep mum? You’re not worthy
of an officer’s rank, chum. Pelymov, be my second, please. – You too.
– Tomorrow he’ll leave us. – We fight now!
– But where? – Over there.
– Oh no, no. – A duel here, now?
– Please, calm down. – Let’s do it!
– Goodness gracious! Let me give you a kiss. Dammit! She drives me mad. I’m prepared to swallow an insult. Spare me your condescension. – Well, well!
– I said I forgive you. You do? Since you don’t feel
like fighting, beg my pardon. Me beg your pardon? You will not live that long! We fight here and now! The last attempt. Will you make peace? – No, never!
– I was insulted! Come together! I count. One… Two… Three… – David!
– Colonel! – What’s going on?
– A duel. How dare you?
In wartime too! When our country is in trouble! Save your ardor for a better cause. As you were! If I hear of it next time I’ll give you an exempl’ry penalty regardless of your services
and rank. Whence this cornet? I brought a packet
from the corps staff. Haven’t you found a better pastime
for yourself? Heigh-ho! Can it be you, mademoiselle? Say that I’m not dreaming! – You are not. It’s me.
– A wonder of wonders! Shahrazade among my rakes! The Field Marshal – …thanks us.
– Personally? Here: “M.Kutuzov.” Let me see. If others fought like you the French would have been routed. Guerrillas fight braving death. We beat the enemy at every place. Colonel, could you find room
for a cornet in your unit? Alas, my friend. A staffer brings bad luck. Thank you, my valiant savior! Accept my cordial gratitude. – How did you manage?
– Things worked out well. Here, you’ll find everything
you will. But I must leave you.
Duty calls! I am the tsar’s aide
Count Balmashov. See you later, my brave hero. To you I’m much indebted but I’ll repay it before long. – What are you called?
– What does it matter? – Is Balmashov still sleeping?
– Actu’lly sawing wood. He must be having sweet dreams. Has the Field Marshal arrived? Be here any minute. About time, cornet. Here’s a packet
for the Field Marshal. – Tired?
– A little bit. You can have a rest. When did the cornet come? In summer. His name’s Azarov. He’s only seventeen but he’ll leave old troopers
in the dust. – Why do you ask?
– I guess – …we’ve met before.
– So what? Oh, nothing. I just expected to see him here
least of all. I’m pretty tired I must say. I’ll have a rest before the parade. Give these buns to prisoners. You better move this arm-chair closer to the stove and adjust the curtain. Speaking of General Balmashov. I’ve heard of his adventure. That will be all. Dismissed. – What do you want?
– A packet from the Count… What is your name? – Azarov.
– Fine. Is staff major Azarov your dad? My uncle. We fought together against the Turks. It was years ago. Now we face a formidable foe, Buonaparte. What do you say? Your Highness, we’ll be okay. I think so too. – Is it your first year?
– Yes, siree. Don’t you think that paperwork is boring? I wouldn’t bear it at your age. – I beg to say–
– Quit it! Why should you stain
your hand with ink? – Smell powder…
– You’ve guessed my dream. Indeed. Permission to leave? First I’ll read it. Prince, let me prostrate myself before you. – Who are you?
– A citizen soldier from Orlov gubernia Count Nurin. I’d like to talk to you. – In private.
– A secret? Would you please leave us, cornet. Find out for yourself. All hussars wear a mustache – whereas the cornet…
– I’ll ask him. You keep mum. I swear I’ll be dumb. Send him in. – You want to see me, sir?
– Yes, cornet. – Tell me your age.
– I’m seventeen. Aren’t you afraid of being
in the war? – Tell me the truth.
– I am not, Your Highness. – Dare not lie to me.
– I do not. Then… tell me… No, wait. What did you say your name was? Alexander, after Uncle. – Were you called Sashka as a child?
– No, Shurka. Here, in this hall was Verkholet. You know him?
He, like you, is from Smolensk. No. Didn’t he visit your uncle by any chance? Be off! No, wait. Er… One more question. Do not be surprised… I mean…
Well, cornet, are you a woman? I can not lie to you. – I am.
– What? How dare you play-act
and compromise – our military honor?
– I want to be a hero. How could I sit idle
when my land’s in danger? You won’t lead me astray. Female soldiers? Without their deed we cut the ground from under Buonaparte’s feet. How did you wangle your position
in the staff? A cousin of mine
saw us last fall – and left his uniform.
– Go home now. To your madamas, nannies, rags and dolls and dances! Do your parents know? I am an orphan, sir. How could you stoop to that! Taking your cousin’s uniform! – Allow me–
– No, I do not! I won’t listen to your baby talk! It makes me sick enough
to hear staff rubbish. Think of my old age! What if my eye’s alert,
my hand is sure and I am saddlefast? What if my mind, my heart,
my nerves all crave your orders?
I’d give all of myself for Rus without remorse. None of your words! I’ll suffer no preaching from young ladies. Your game is over. – Allow me to stay, please.
– Forget it. I beg you, Prince… Your Highness. I can kneel down to you. Oh please! Now we’re shedding
floods of tears! Suppose they enter? They shouldn’t see you’re a female. Now, you stay here until your tears disappear. Oh come on… I want to ask you more. You’re in the army cos you’re
wild about your lover? Myself, I’ve sinned a lot.
In chastity I believe not. – What?
– My! Your tears have dried up. Offended? Forgive the old man. But still… Head homeward, my friend. I was not announced, er… – Sit down, general.
– The Emperor sent me. You’ve heard of my predicament? I have. If this letter– – Why no convoy?
– There was… a smattering. – But for that cornet…
– Is he here? I am afraid not. He galloped off
and didn’t give his name. – A callow youth.
– Russia’s tribulations… make heroes of them. Oh Mother-Russia! As I see it, he deserves a cross for his exploit. Still around? Be off! Give my regards to Uncle. I’ll write to him. For pity’s sake, forgive me. I recognized you not,
my gallant friend. But why are your eyes so red? You must have had bad time, my modest hero. Speaking of the cross, can’t go back on your words, Prince. He has atoned for his offense and deserves a St.George cross
and bow. It’s thanks to him
that I’m alive now. Well, Prince… Show us how you value
the imperial aide’s life. C’mon, do it now. This cross you’ve earned by right for your exploit. Wear it with pride. Congratulations. May I go now? I’ll stay around for the parade. I’ll be seeing you. No better award for me than a right to battle
for my Homeland! You have deserved it,
wear it you must. You can’t really fling
crosses about! It’s not your hair pins! And thank the general. – Can I stay?
– What if they find out you’re, well, not a man? I have been five months here and not a soul suspects a thing. Tell the count he’s mistaken. You’ve outplayed me smartly. Go serve your country. As for your rank… you keep it. Show respect for it. – Go now.
– Your Highness… – Thank you.
– I’ll keep your secret. I’ll never lose the military honor. I believe you. Go! – What now?
– The count’s there. Alright, stay in. Count, your joke
is in bad taste. It’s second grade e’en for an aide. My God! What a turn-up! – Upon my word–
– Alright, alright. See you don’t do it, ever. You, David? Come on, tell me your fibs. – And who is it?
– Lieutenant Rzhevsky. – Dashing fellow.
– Courageous too. I’ve heard a lot about you. – A hero!
– Thanks for your trust in me. You’ve justified it in the field. Well, well. But you look better as a girl. You? Yes, that’s me.
Bon jour, Lieutenant! – Still in the staff business?
– Come on! How are things going
with mademoiselle Jermon? Our unit was surrounded. The enemy took her
that very night. And you shamef’ly fled the scene. Damn! We’ll fight a duel
when we meet again. You don’t have to wait long, I’m assigned to your unit, so… Help me dispel my doubt. I give my word
I’ll keep your secret. You or not you? Isn’t that something! Me is… me. Now I must leave you.
No time for idle talk. Goodbye, monsieur. However, am I right or not? I took one prisoner, an officer I presume. – Your rank?
– Lieutenant. Please take it back.
I am your friend for good. – What’s that supposed to mean?
– I gave him my sheepskin coat. – Are you French?
– I’m Spanish. He’s not a coward
but he missed his aim cos he was shivering with cold. I’ve never met the likes of you. I’m glad I didn’t kill you. Name your unit. – Do it.
– No. The French have had it! Why maintain allegiance to them? Is it my poor hearing
or d’you suggest betrayal? What’s in this war for you,
a Spaniard? You won the day but I swore allegiance to them! I’ve got a plan! Indeed.
I can see you’re a “staffer.” Take it easy, I am joking. Back to the plan. Ours is a roadside town. He passed the posts… – Go now.
– A storm is raging. I walked on and on,
chilled to the bone. – What do you want?
– The tunic of Navarre riflemen. – Are you an officer?
– I was captured and escaped. I went through hellish suffering. I’ve got to find my unit. A la guerre comme a la guerre. Navarre riflemen!
Look for them in the other world.
They’re no more. – Oh no!
– Sit by the fireside. Liniere. Corneille. Printed in Paris. – I wonder. Paper burns like cones.
– What is your name? Vincento Salgari. I’ll go find a nook
not to be in your way. No, you wait with us. The General will be here soon. He’ll likely ask you questions. He’s very inquisitive. I’ll tell him all I know. Another fugitive.
Says he’s a French officer, went through thick and thin and only just escaped. I was captured. My regiment was crushed so who I retreat with
matters not. Where is your uniform and all? – Your rank?
– I am a lieutenant. They have my uniform. I am Vincento Salgari. Wait a minute. Hell! Do I see double? – What is your name again?
– Vincento Salgari. And yours? I am assigned to Murat’s corps. You say nothing? Fine. I didn’t recognize my cousin. He’s changed so much. – Are you both Vincentos?
– I bet we are. An old tradition
in our family is to name all men Vincento. That beats everything! One of you’s a spy. – Who? Me or him?
– Sit by the fireside. You must be chilled. From head to toe. Thank you. – That’s more than I could wish for.
– How come? You come from different places
and meet here? That’s pretty queer. The fire’s dying out. What are you burning? Parni. Racine. I want to know all
about Russian positions. You first. I’ll tell you all I know. Keep sitting, you are tired. So am I. – Where do I begin?
– Hey, not a word! – Die rather than speak.
– What’s this? – He’s delirious.
– Why are you not in bed? Go upstairs. No, wait. Which of them d’you know? Don’t be impressed
by their threats. You are female
and that is that. You a woman? – How strange!
– She is my niece, seventeen years of age. – A new twist!
– A family of spies you see. And the other one.
Is he your nephew or…? I know him not. – Never seen him before.
– Can it be that for her mission
you gave your tunic to her? I took it without his permission. He didn’t know. No more questions. So… Take him away and shoot’em down in the morn. David, the cornet was caught. – I had a narrow escape.
– There’s no hope for salvation. Alarm! Alarm! All mount! Three thousand devils! – You are my savior!
– Surprise! I am so happy to have met you. – Your cousin. Is he safe and sound?
– He is. Shut in in the barn. No, please stay here. The violent gallop left me soaked. A rendez-vous the novel style. – Lieutenant, I’m your slave.
– Pah! Who’s that dandy? Our friend, the French lieutenant. The bastards are shootin’ again. – Day’s breaking.
– The general ordered shooting us at dawn. He keeps his word. Shot I have definitely been. The fighting is in full swing. – Let’s go, cornet.
– We can’t leave here. – The maps, the orders…
– Fine trophy. Let’em know: we beat the enemy
till they surrender. I don’t know how to thank you. You saved me, Uncle
…and my cousin. She must have passed out. It’s nothing, man. I bet she flatters herself the reason is she
that you are here. Nonsense! You better load your gun.
The battle is still raging. Remember our bet, lieutenant? You save a maiden– and you marry her. A wedding’s in the offing. Not in this case. It’s you I saved, not her. The whole unit witnessed it. You can’t refuse. Congratulations!
It’s a happy lot! So to the altar, eh? I am not going to listen
to that rubbish. Yes, I lost the bet. But never will there be a wedding! – Then how about a duel?
– On what pretext? And not on this estate. If you have guts
then fight the duel. You first save me
and then put to risk. It’s so hussaresque. – Next time better luck.
– You’re a coward and schmuck. Shoot after I say “three”. So… One… Two… Wait, gentlemen! – On time, thank God.
– Three thousand devils! You see enough deaths at the war. Jermon? Watch me pluggin’ the dresser’s head. Cornet, be a man! Oh my God!
Don’t you dare! I don’t want… Just one word. Am I the cause? I love another man. – I don’t care for you two.
– Alas! Mademoiselle Jermon, you’re welcome to love e’en a devil. The cornet has insulted me. I can only wash it off with blood. Mademoiselle Jermon? How strange! What luck meeting you again. – Your arm!
– A trifle scratch. Pierre dear, – I miss you awfully.
– How can I believe it? I do believe we will be happy. – Mademoiselle Jermon–
– Louise. Call me Louise
as you used to. And kiss mt as you know how. We split because of my caprice. My fault. Forgive me please. Louise, I am an ass. – Jermon again.
– Not really. But where’s the cornet? Dueling with the Lieutenant. I guess we’ll need a crowbar. I am Azarov, staff-major in retirement. I owe you one. Is cornet Azarov your nephew? My niece. – Oh, rubbish.
– He’s seeing sights. – He sure is.
– Have no doubt. Ivan here can confirm it. – He is her nurseman.
– She’s a girl alright. Is that so! I thought
the old man’s in his dotage. Now break down the door! – Murder!
– Hurt! – You’ll pay for that!
– Some duelist! He saw a mouse–
and swooned! Given such finale,
I decided not to fight. – But you were shooting!
– I killed two mice and missed one. – What a pity!
– Please dampen your ardor. She has dreaded mice
since infancy. She?
Permit me, sir. – I must–
– Dammit! – Am I dreaming?
– I must apologize for my disguise. She is a girl! Victors are not judged you know. And for your valiance I promote you to lieutenant. – So kind of you.
– Say not a word. Champagne to celebrate the day! Well, friends, up and at it. The battle is not a bed of roses… Lieutenant, wait. I owe you an explanation. What d’you say? Your wonderment is overly long. I’m not a man. My consolation. Are you disappointed? You are my mentor
in the hussar ways. Say something. Do you love me? Only an insane man – …could love you.
– Tell me: are you in love with me? A man would lose his wits
falling for you. I’m as obstinate as you.
Answer: yes or no? I’d like to say goodbye. That’s fine but do you love me? Yes, three thousand devils! That’s going too far! I would prefer a hundred deaths! I am ashamed,
can’t look you in the face. You are in love–
and pray for death. You must despise me. – I was an ass.
– Wait, wait! Remember the ball
when we drank – …brotherhood?
– I feel bound hand and foot. Damnation! I do apologize for being insolent at the ball. You also gave me a kiss. I owe you one and I’ll return the debt. You can go now. What’s with you? Oh! Wow! Now back to the wager. There was a clause about marriage. You are freed from that obligation. You can’t stomache my cousin,
I mean myself. – I swear…
– Never have I felt so deeply. I will seek death
if you reject me. Farewell forever! I’m off. But if– – Damn!
– My hero, wait! Yes! Yes! Life offers us many a road. We either laugh or cry
or both as it were, When hearing that refrain
well-known Long long ago, long long ago,
long long ago. I am a duelist and bully And I can drench a whole bottle
at one go But so involved emotionally I was long ago. I lost my heart to a hussar hero. And his luxuriant mustache
does need a comb. There was a time
when we were en’mies. ‘t was long ago, long ago, long ago. Years will pass, so evenful. But our hist’ry we will ever
forget not. How our fathers fought for freedom. Long long ago… And if an en’my, blind with hatred, Attempts to vanquish Rus
and overload We’ll rout him the way they did it Long long ago…