Original subtitles

TV CHANNEL RUSSIA

with the support of Ministry of Culture of the Russian Federation

2014 THE YEAR OF CULTURE

TV CHANNEL RUSSIA

"NON-STOP PRODUCTION" FILM COMPANY

PRESENT

Pashka!

Pashka!

Where's he... Where the hell are you?!

Pashka...

What? Why are you yelling? It was a call of nature...

A drowned man.

People...

People!

DEMONS

based on F.M. Dostoyevsky's novel

a Vladimir Khotinenko film

Part One

Maxim Matveyev

Anton Shagin

Sergey Makovetsky

Vladimir Zaitsev

Yevgeny Tkachuk Aleksei Kirsanov

Maria Lugovaya Ivanna Petrova

Nadezhda Markina Igor Kostolevsky

Boris Kamorzin Maria Shalayeva

Aleksandr Galibin Natalya Kurdyubova

Natasha Shvets Oleg Vasilkov

Yuri Pogrebnichko as Tikhon

screenplay by Natalya Nazarova Vladimir Khotinenko

director of photography Denis Alarcon Ramirez R.G.S.

production designer Vladimir Gudilin

sound director Rostislav Alimov

music by Aleksei Aigi

editing director Maxim Polinsky

producers Anton Zlatopolsky

Aleksandr Rodnyansky

Yekaterina Yefanova

Sergey Melkumov

directed by Vladimir Khotinenko

Help him!

So, you know, it's a short cut if you go straight through.

Of course, the park belongs to landowners, but we've always...

because it's shorter this way.

The ink has dried.

- "And we went..." - So we walk on...

Suddenly I see - there's no Pashka. I shouted, "Pashka!"

But first the dead man came up to the surface. I wrongly thought

- it was Pashka in the water. - Why should I be in the water?

We never had anyone drowned here.

But then I saw it myself.

- Where are you going?! - Let me through! I know who it is!

What's your name, young lady?

Darya Pavlovna Shatova.

Brought up by Her Excellency Varvara Petrovna Stavrogina.

It is my brother.

Ivan Shatov.

So,

on September 15 of this year,

on the bank of the pond at the end of the park

belonging to a general's widow Varvara Petrovna Stavrogina,

a body of former student Ivan Shatov was found

who, presumably, yet most likely,

had been murdered.

Perhaps you would like to take a rest after the road, at our inn?

I would like to get to business right away.

Any preliminary results? Any suspects?

Oh, Sir, there're suspects galore,

but who is the one, you can't figure him out.

Surely, some characters are already the figurants in our case.

Pyotr Verkhovensky and Nikolai Stavrogin, for instance.

Before their arrival in our town, everything was different.

It was peaceful and holy.

And as soon as those turned up,

the whole town became like possessed.

One thing after another.

As a result, ten corpses.

Even an infant of male sex.

And it used to be different before.

A MONTH BEFORE

We even wanted to build a capital bridge connecting the two banks.

By the way, it was the late Kirillov who designed it.

He was a gifted man, though with some oddities.

And these two characters - Stavrogin and Verkhovensky -

turned up right on the eve of the Transfiguration Feast.

On Sunday, September 17.

I should say that the appearance of one of them, Nikolai Stavrogin,

our town expected with some apprehension.

During his last visit here, he did such a queer thing.

Yes, nothing changes in this town.

Stavrogin, I've come to be open with you.

Then you have not been open with me before?

When I set off to come here, I decided to assume a character.

At first to assume the part of a fool, because it is easier,

but since being a fool is something extreme,

I ended by sticking to my own character.

Stop, my good man.

Stavrogin!

Where are you going?

I just remembered that I really did call you worthless.

But you weren't there then,

so they must have reported it.

Why are you standing? Go!

Mr. Gaganov, I received your letter.

Despite its highly insulting tone, I understand your feelings.

That incident with your father four years ago at the club here...

My action was unintentional and was the result of illness,

still I'm prepared to make you every possible apology.

I think it's the only reason for my coming here.

Scoundrel.

Coward.

I'm at your service, at any time suitable for you.

May you be damned!

Stop.

Kirillov!

Kirillov! Open up! It's me.

Kirillov!

Have you waited for me?

So you're here.

Have you found the people?

Here's the list.

Lyamshin, Liputin,

Erkel, Virginsky... Who are they?

Virginsky is a public servant, his wife is a local midwife.

Lyamshin is a musician.

Erkel is a young officer. His mother is sickly.

Well, we'll see. We'll see.

And where's Shatov?

He sent me a letter informing us that he is leaving our society.

What does he mean? He has our printing press,

and, really, it smells of treason.

Where is he?

I am no guard for him.

That's how it is, Pavel Dmitriyevich.

Who is this guest of ours?

Investigator for particularly important cases of His Majesty's Office.

Mister Goremykin.

So you say

that these young people

- are not in town? - No.

As though the earth had swallowed them up.

Both Mr. Stavrogin and Mr. Verkhovensky...

And his father, Stepan Trofimovich, God rest his soul,

has disappeared, too.

We cannot find him anywhere.

- Why? How could he disappear? - Just like that.

He had left one morning, and never returned.

- What do you say his name is? - Whose name?

The father's.

Verkhovensky, Stepan Trofimovich.

Stepan Trofimovich...

Isn't he the one who taught history in St. Petersburg?

I don't know what he taught there, but here he was stirring up trouble.

A tricky old man.

Propagating ideas. Playing a liberal.

He lied that he was on friendly terms with Herzen.

Though himself was a dependant of general's widow Stavrogina.

A blabbermouth.

A dangerous man.

By all appearances, he had even tired his patroness,

because on that same Sunday she was going to arrange

Stepan Trofimovich's engagement to her protégée Darya Shatova.

Ivan Pavlovich!

Such a misalliance...

I think we're going the same way.

Mon ami... I need to explain.

I know, yes. Enfin, c'est ridicule...

But my marriage to your sister

looks like a comedy in the eyes of society.

And in your eyes - like downright baseness.

But you know about my circumstances!

Stepan Trofimovich, why do you want to make my sister unhappy?

That's the point! There is one circumstance!

I want your sister to say it to me herself, in her own words.

I don't want to blush every time, I don't want to lie,

I don't want any secrets. I won't tolerate secrets in this matter!

Yesterday I sent her a letter.

In a noble spirit, believe me.

I let her know that I had written to Stavrogin five days before,

- also in a noble spirit. - What the devil!

But you... What right did you have to couple their names like that?

Well, suppose that something really happened

between them in Switzerland...

Or maybe was to happen...

To not be a stumbling block in their paths,

not to constrain their hearts, I had to question them.

This is a slander!

I deeply respect Darya Pavlovna,

but you know Stavrogin!

You yourself had suffered from him!

And what about this gossip about some lame idiot?

- Stop it. - The whole town is talking

about Stavrogin and her...

Get on!

My dear, please don't crush me completely!

I am entirely crushed as it is... like a cockroach!

Now only he - my son, my Petrusha - can save me.

To Skvoreshniki! Why won't he go...

Thank you, dear.

You are unhappy?

You are in need of help?

I have come only to kiss your hand.

Is that all you have come for?

May I kiss your hand?

Where do you live?

I believe she is a Lebyadkin...

Her brother, so to say, is a man not too careful in his behavior.

They say he printed forged money. And she is his sister.

She must have escaped from under supervision.

So you, my dear, are M-lle Lebyadkina?

No, I'm not Lebyadkina. My brother is Lebyadkin.

That's what I'm going to do.

I'll take you, my dear, with me.

Do you want to go with me?

I do!

Auntie... Auntie, may I go with you too?

But what are you afraid of, Lisa?

Excuse me, my dear cousine, I'm going to auntie's!

Auntie, if you don't take me with you,

I'll run after your carriage.

Get in, my dear.

What! You are lame!

- Lisa... - Stay here...

C'est ridicule, n'est-ce pas, Maurice...

Yes, yes, it's strange.

Lyamshin, where did they take her?

What? They've abducted your sister!

What do you mean, abducted? I'm her brother!

Not some phantom...

My family pride has been insulted!

To Skvoreshniki!

I'll close your case and retire.

Oh, come on, Sir! Retiring at your age?

I think you're younger than I am.

The superiors are asking me to.

They worry about my health.

Would you like some wine? It's a good wine.

They send it to me from Greece.

My doctor advised it, for my lungs.

No, I'm on duty,

Though... why not...

Your health!

For health is considered here as a virtue, and even a talent.

Yes.

By the way, who are the Lebyadkins?

They're strangers in the town.

A brother and a sister.

The brother does whatever comes. People even say

that he printed forged money.

And the sister is crazy.

A week before Stavrogin's arrival, his mother, Varvara Petrovna,

received an anonymous letter, in which its author was assuring her

that between her son and the said girl

- there was some liaison. - Was she beautiful?

She is lame as well as mad.

Absolutely no brains in her head.

That's the funny story.

I think that the appearance of that lame girl

and her brother at Skvoreshniki

had greatly influenced the further course of events

and frustrated Varvara Petrovna's plans for the engagement.

It was appointed at twelve o'clock...

Varvara Petrovna went to church and didn't return yet.

I haven't seen Petrusha for so long...

When I left him in St. Petersburg. I...

well, in short, I thought him a nonentity.

He was a nervous boy, very sensitive

and fearful.

When he went to bed, he bowed to the ground

and made a cross over the pillow, not to die.

Is that true? He made a cross over the pillow?

Yes, he did.

And you... Do you believe in God?

I cannot understand why everyone thinks I'm an atheist.

- I do believe in God. - Really?

But I cannot believe like my servant does,

or like you, dear Shatov...

You believe forcibly, as a Moscow Slavophil.

As for Christianity,

with all my sincere respect for it,

I am rather an ancient pagan,

like the great Goethe or an ancient Greek.

But what's more important is

that Russia is too great an oddity

for you and me to solve it without Germans, without work...

And since we'll never work...

A cup of coffee at once...

Keep the carriage!

Sit here.

Stepan Trofimovich... Look at this woman.

What is the meaning of this?

Well, I... you know...

You are here, too, Shatushka? Just fancy, I saw you,

but I thought it couldn't be you. How could you come here?

- Do you know her? - Yes, I know her.

Well...

It's not worth talking about.

You did get cold, didn't you, my dear? Take a drink and get warm.

Auntie... you're not angry, are you...

What?! I'm not your aunt!

And I... I thought that was the proper way.

This girl here, Lisa, called you that.

Here; I forgot to give it back

- Take it. - Put it on again.

And keep it. Drink your coffee,

and please don't be afraid of me, my dear.

The train has long been gone.

Why isn't Nikolai Vsevolodovich here yet?

Mon cher, you know...

Darya Pavlovna!

Oh, is this your Darya Pavlovna?

Well, Shatushka, your sister's not like you.

How could my Lebyadkin call such a charmer the serf Dasha?

Dasha! Do you know her?

I have never seen her before.

She must be the invalid sister of someone...

named Lebyadkin.

Mr. Lebyadkin has been waiting downstairs; he asks to be announced.

No... It's impossible... This man is dishonorable,

a convict or a counterfeiter!

He is my lackey! I usually shout to him, "Lebyadkin, bring me water!

Lebyadkin, get my shoes!" And he runs.

She treats him as a lackey;

but he never brings her water, he just beats her for that.

And she has nervous fits, so she doesn't remember anything

Wait for a while.

About six days ago,

I received an anonymous letter,

in which some scoundrel was assuring me

that my son, Nikolai Vsevolodovich,

had gone crazy, and that I should be wary

of some lame woman

who would play a momentous role in my life.

That's why I want to see this man.

Pavel Dmitriyevich, a lady is here to see you,

a general's widow; I was telling you about her.

She wants to speak to you urgently.

Shatov used to be her serf.

The murdered Shatov.

What's the lady's name?

Varvara Petrovna Stavrogina.

- Excuse me, Ivan Lvovich... - Varvara Petrovna!

- I'm not going to wait... - You can't do that!

Ivan Lvovich, please, leave us alone.

But...

- I won't talk in your presence! - Ivan Lvovich, leave us.

I've come here to inform you...

Though, there are people who might...

and I have too many ill-wishers here

who might decide to take advantage...

by word...

My son...

of course, sometimes he behaves provocatively;

I mean, unusually.

He is not guilty of anything!

He loved the late Shatov, they grew up together.

Please remind me, your son...

Nikolai Vsevolodovich Stavrogin.

Why did Shatov hit your son?

There was some slap in the face, wasn't it?

They've already reported it?

And who can take advantage?

And why?

There are many who would want to.

It all began about a month and a half ago.

My son returned home after a long absence.

And at that time, I received a letter from a Captain Lebyadkin,

which utterly puzzled me.

And a letter like this was received by Lisa Tushina,

a girl from a distinguished family, and we all believed

that her marriage to my son was all but decided.

- I have come, Madam... - Be so kind, Sir,

take a seat over there.

To begin with, may I know your name?

Madam, I would like to be called Ernest,

but yet I am forced to bear the vulgar name of Ignat.

I'd prefer you call me Prince de Mombart,

but, alas, I'm only

Lebyadkin.

Lebyadkin... derived from a lebed' (a swan).

I am a poet in soul, and might be getting a thousand rubles

from a publisher, yet I am forced to live in a pig pail.

Can you say something more definite?

I can read you a poem named "The Cockroach"!

What?!

There lived a cockroach among all,

It had been his condition...

Once he chanced in a glass to fall,

Full of fly perdition.

That's when flies get in a glass during the summer heat,

- then it's fly perdition. - It's some nonsense! Stop it...

Is this pitiful creature really your sister?

Yes.

Oh, Madam, wealthy are your mansions,

but poor is the dwelling of my sister,

née Lebyadkina. But for now, only for now,

we'll call her Maria Unknown.

You gave her ten rubles.

She accepted it.

Only because it was from you! From you, Madam!

She would've never taken it from anyone,

only from you, anything and always!

Why would she take it from me, but not from others?

Because, Madam, that is the secret

that may be buried only in the grave!

I am waiting for your answer.

Oh no, Madam, Lebyadkin will not blab!

The cockroach doesn't complain.

No, no, you don't have to announce me.

Varvara Petrovna!

Your son, Nikolai Vsevolodovich,

told me to be here a quarter of an hour ago.

Oh, Lizaveta Nikolayevna,

how glad I am to meet you at the very first step.

By the way, how are you, Varvara Petrovna?

Petrusha! Pierre, my son...

- Why, I didn't recognize you! - Oh, don't be so playful...

I haven't seen you for ten years.

I know. I know you love me, but keep your arms away.

Mon ami...

There he is!

Nikolai Vsevolodovich! Stop for a minute!

Nikolai Vsevolodovich,

is it true that this unhappy lame woman...

Is it true that she is your lawful wife?

You should not be here.

May I kneel before you now?

No, you can't do that.

Only think that you are a girl;

and though I am your devoted friend, I'm still an outsider:

not your husband, nor father or betrothed.

I will take you to the carriage. Let us go.

Let's go.

I wouldn't advise you, Mr. Lebyadkin, to slip away.

Both Nikolai Vsevolodovich and I

know very well what you've been up to.

Varvara Petrovna, allow me to clear up this matter.

Thank you. Nikolai Vsevolodovich was leading at that time in St. Petersburg

a life of mockery, so to speak.

That Lebyadkin had a sister,

this very sister who was sitting here.

He was hanging about streets begging,

and all he got he'd spend on drink.

She lived like a bird of heaven.

Nikolai Vsevolodovich gave him shelter.

He became with him someone

who would have everyone laugh at him and pay money for that.

And M-lle Lebyadkina...

Stavrogin was, so to say,

a diamond set in the background of her dirty life.

Once, Nikolai Vsevolodovich stood up for her in front of everybody.

He flung the offender out of a window...

Then she went completely crazy

and began looking on him as her betrothed

who dared not "elope" with her because he had many enemies

and family difficulties, or something of the sort.

So, Nikolai Vsevolodovich, only because of his kind heart,

had to make provision for her,

a sum of three hundred rubles a year.

And Mr. Lebyadkin finds his sister,

takes her from the nunnery

and brings her here. He doesn't feed her, beats her,

bullies her, and gets drunk using her pension.

And, instead of gratitude,

he ends by impudently defying Nikolai Vsevolodovich

with senseless demands,

sending everyone those ghastly anonymous letters.

Mr. Lebyadkin,

is it all true that I've said just now?

Pyotr Stepanovich...

If family honor

and undeserved disgrace are crying out among people,

then is a man to blame?

You're a very irritable man, Mr. Lebyadkin.

And I've hardly begun telling about your behavior,

in its real sense.

Pyotr Stepanovich...

Pyotr Stepanovich has told us a story of a man,

a noble and chivalrous man.

- Do you forgive me, Nicolas? - Chivalrous?

So you've come as far as that? Well...

I'm grateful to Pyotr Stepanovich for being in such a hurry.

I understand I can congratulate you? Or is it too soon?

- You know I've been informed. - Yes, I know.

What's the congratulation about? Bah!..

Is that what I think it is?

Do you remember? In Switzerland you bet

that you'd never get married?

Yes, apropos Switzerland...

I almost forgot.

- When are you going to Switzerland? - Me?.. To Switzerland?

What? You're not going?

You're getting married, too. You wrote me about it!

- Pierre! - Why Pierre?

You wrote in your letter that you need to "be saved".

Something about "sins in Switzerland".

I'm getting married, he wrote, for my sins

or on account of the sins of another,

and therefore, abandon everything and fly to "save" me.

So Stepan Trofimovich wrote to you

that he was getting married for "the sins of another"?

- And you should fly "to save him"? - Exactly!

If only I've misunderstood something...

Nikolai Vsevolodovich,

you've been informed of it too?

Yes, I did get a very harmless and noble letter from him.

Enough!

Stepan Trofimovich,

be so kind,

leave us at once.

And never again

set foot in my house.

Please...

Darya Pavlovna... I... you know...

Please be assured that I respect you as ever before,

and appreciate you and...

Please think of me well too.

Lisa...

Water! At once!

Lisa...

Here...

Lisa...

Lisa!

Why didn't your son challenge Shatov to a duel?

I don't know.

I only know that he just couldn't kill him! He couldn't!

I've understood your point of view.

Tell me, where is your son now?

We would like very much to talk to him personally.

I don't know where he is.

All these events had so much impressed him.

And, alas, I wasn't beside him.

Dasha and I were away when it turned out like this.

I can't forgive myself for that.

Yes, I have reports here

that link the deaths of those Lebyadkins to his participation in it.

Why should you repeat this disgusting gossip?

They were killed by that convict!

It is clear to everyone!

Until we've finished the investigation, nothing can be clear.

But he is not guilty, he could not kill.

He couldn't. If you only knew what a heart he's got!

Believe me, my son was not himself

after that fateful Sunday.

For a week, he had not left the house.

I should note

that you understand all the delicate moments about your parent

absolutely right.

But your suggestion about the almshouse, I think, is too much.

Nicolas?

May I invite Pyotr Stepanovich in to see you?

You can, of course you can!

If only you knew what nonsense I've had to say to them.

You are an enigmatic and romantic figure now.

A very advantageous position.

Everyone is extremely eager to see you.

I put Shatov's wife to use; that is,

the rumors about your liaison in Paris.

You are not angry, are you?

I'm sure you've done your best.

She never eavesdrops.

What's this insect?

It is Nymphalis Polychloros.

A multi-colored butterfly.

And this one?

Vanessa atalanta, the admiral butterfly.

Don't you think it strange, Verkhovensky,

that such an insignificant creature -

an insect, as you say -

is given such an amazingly generous shape.

A beauty...

An embodied perfection.

So you are in for butterflies now?

You are fed up with people?

I think that people are transitional creatures

and our existence on the earth is, probably,

but the continuous existence of a chrysalis turning into a butterfly.

Remember the phrase: "Angel never falls;

Demon fell so low that it is always lying down.

And Man, he falls and rises."

Why, do you believe in demons now?

Why did you stage that comedy

about the noble knight last Sunday?

You wanted to demonstrate that we're in collusion?

- I've never asked you to do that. - Absolutely!

That's just what I meant.

I did it to find out

how much you are afraid.

- You've changed your tactics? - There are no tactics.

Now it is for you only to decide everything.

I won't say a word about our cause until you order me to.

By the way, I moved the Lebyadkins that same day.

Did you get my note with their address?

I did.

Lizaveta Nikolayevna got absolutely well after her swoon.

There are rumors of her engagement to Mavriky.

You know that?

But you're right, she'd run from under the wedding crown

if you only call to her...

Well, I'm at your service.

You know it. Seriously, I'm at your service. You understand?

Well...

I am off.

It's not safe here in the streets at night.

There's a runaway convict

from Siberia, Fedka.

My father sent him to the army fifteen years ago.

A remarkable person.

You...

have spoken to him?

I have.

He is ready for anything.

Anything. For money, of course.

But he has convictions too; of a sort, of course.

Why are you reaching for your stick...

Stavrogin! By the way,

everybody here is convinced that you'll kill Shatov!

You?

Yes.

But I came to see Kirillov, not you.

Shatov!

You didn't hit me because of my connection with your wife?

No, of course not.

And not because you believed the stupid gossip about Darya Pavlovna?

No, it's nonsense!

So, you guessed it right, and I guessed it right...

You were right!

Marya Timofeyevna Lebyadkina is my lawful,

wedded wife.

In St. Petersburg, about four and a half years ago,

after a drunken dinner, on a bet.

You hit me on her account, didn't you?

No.

I hit you because of your downfall.

Because of your lies.

Because you had meant so much to me.

I didn't want to punish you.

As I was approaching you, I didn't know I'd hit you.

I thought you would come to kill me.

I bought a revolver from Lyamshin.

On my last money.

I didn't want to let you do it.

I've been waiting for you.

Thinking only about you.

I can't tear you out of my heart, Nikolai Stavrogin.

Look at this ball. Look how it jumps.

- Some tea? - Please.

Read this.

I met this Gaganov a month ago, in St. Petersburg.

He was very insolent,

angry with me for the incident with his father.

I was willing to give him every possible apology, but he had left.

And now I find him here absolutely furious.

Yes, I heard something about it at the club.

Did you really take the old man by the nose and...

It's an absurd story.

Though, I wasn't quite well at the time;

and when he, for an umpteenth time, repeated his

"no one can lead me by the nose",

I simply couldn't resist the temptation.

I've come to find out whether you would agree to be my second?

How will you fight?

The weapons will be pistols, of course.

I particularly ask you to arrange the barriers at ten paces apart.

Each must walk up to his barrier;

though he can fire even before, on his way.

Ten paces... that's too close!

Can you load a pistol?

Yes, I've got everything.

Gunpowder, bullets.

I have a revolver, too.

Are you still intending to do it?

Yes.

When?

It doesn't depend on me, as you know.

When they tell me.

Of course, I understand.

Shooting oneself...

I also thought about it.

But you seem to be very happy, Kirillov?

- You are designing a bridge. - Yes.

I'm very happy!

Have you seen a leaf?

The leaf from a tree?

I've seen one recently. A yellow leaf.

A little greenish, decayed at the edges,

it was swept by the wind.

When I was ten,

I closed my eyes in winter and tried to visualize a leaf,

a green, bright leaf with veins...

Shining and iridescent in the sun.

I opened my eyes and couldn't believe that it was so good,

and I closed them again.

The leaf is good. Everything's good...

Everything?

Man is unhappy because he doesn't know that he is happy;

it's only that. Yes...

Whoever understands it, he'll become happy at once.

And if anyone dies of hunger?

Or hurts and violates

a little girl -

is that good?

They just need to know they are good.

They all will become good at once. All of them.

When they only learn it, they won't outrage a little girl.

He who teaches that all are good will end the world.

- He who taught it was crucified. - He will come...

And his name will be the man-god.

- The god-man? - The man-god, there's a difference.

Do you pray yourself? I see the icon.

It's the owner's, and I don't object.

I pray to everything.

I think that when I come next time you'll be believing in God too.

- Why so? - You don't know that you believe

in God, that's why you don't believe in Him.

That's not right. You've turned it all over.

Remember what you had meant in my life, Stavrogin!

Thank God they've agreed to fifteen paces.

Damn... My hands are trembling.

- Artemiy Pavlovich! - What is it now?

Just as a formality, I ask you for the last time:

will you not be reconciled?

- It's the duty of a second. - I agree with Mr. Kirillov.

The idea that you can't reconcile at the barrier is just a prejudice.

I reiterate my offer to give all possible apologies.

He feels it impossible to be insulted by me!

What does he think of me?

You're just irritating me, to make me miss.

The negotiations are over.

Please listen to my command.

One!

Two!

Three!

I declare! This man

fired in the air.

On purpose!

I didn't mean to insult you.

I fired in the air because I no longer want to kill anyone.

Is he sparing me?

I despise his mercy! I... I spit on it...

- Why did he challenge me? - You wouldn't listen;

- how else can he get rid of you?! - Let me note that if

a combatant declares beforehand he will fire in the air,

the duel cannot go on.

You may not know what's on my mind

and how I'm going to shoot! In no way I'm violating the duel.

Vyacheslav Ivanych...

- And you?! - What about me?

There was no time to have breakfast.

Gentlemen, take your places!

One!

Two!

Three!

Again?!

No matter!

I've been challenged, and I will use my right!

I want to fire the third time!

Please listen to my command.

One!

Two!

Three!

Too long.

Too long. Fire!

Fire!

Fire! Don't detain your adversary!

Thank God!

There's no need for the doctor.

The duel is over.

I think Stavrogin was involved.

This man could not take such an insult.

Well... he could have challenged him to a duel.

He did fight a duel with Gaganov.

But Gaganov is a nobleman... And Shatov used to be a serf.

Our dandy just couldn't have a duel with a muzhik. It's ridiculous.

That's right!

And Kirillov was Stavrogin's second

at his duel with Gaganov.

That duel was just a smokescreen to cover the most important thing -

the murder of Shatov.

Guilty!

- Come on, stop! - I'm guilty!

- We all are guilty... All five of us... - What is it?

Which five?

The traitors to the State!

The State! We have killed; we've taken a sin upon our souls!

- We wanted to frighten them. - Who? Who are you?

Lyamshin, a clerk at the post office. A madman.

Wait!

What are the names? The names!

I, Liputin, Virginsky, Shigalyov...

and lieutenant Erkel!

A clandestine link.

The chain of those links is over all Russia!

Well, you know...

Maybe we should report it to St. Petersburg?

If it's really like that.

Yes...

Be sure that they'll jump at this case.

The people are shrewd there, they know where to catch their fish.

And you will only be reprimanded:

"You've overlooked, you've let them slip away!"

No, Ivan Lvovich, let's do it ourselves.

A whistle... Liputin did whistle;

he gave a signal.

Ourselves.