Original subtitles

F. M. DOSTOYEVSKY

WHITE NIGHTS

Starring: Lyudmila MARCHENKO

Oleg STRIZHENOV

Written and Directed by Ivan PYRIEV

Photography by Valentin PAVLOV

Production Designer S. VOLKOV

А.РОЙТМАН

The Cast:

L. Marchenko as Nastenka O. Strizhenov as The Dreamer

A. Fedorinov as The Lodger

V. Popova as grandmother S.Kharitonova as Fyokla

Фекла - И.ХАРИТОНОВА

Kindly forgive me, dear gentlemen,

but since you happened to visit this abode of a lonely person,

allow me to tell you

about one lovely girl

who forever blessed my whole life with her happiness.

Oh, it was very long ago.

Here, look at her portrait.

She gave it to me on the day of her wedding.

Like myself, it has grown old, of course,

and got damaged a little bit...

But Nastenka...

My dear Nastenka...

Here she is the same she was

during the white nights

which became so special for me.

It is the white nights

I am going to tell you about.

There were five of them.

Only five...

FIRST NIGHT

It was a wonderful spring night in Petersburg.

As usual, I was returning to my lodgings after a walk.

My way lay along the canal embankment.

I walked along, singing.

Such was my habit, you know

to hum to myself

like every lonely man would

who has no friend or acquaintance.

So, I was strolling along and singing

when suddenly...

Mademoiselle!

Oh, birdie! Where are you going, fledgling?

Chuk-chuck!

Halt, you, despicable man!

Hey, hey...

Just you wait!

Oh, what an amusing duel!

But he scared me very much.

There, you see, why did you run away from me?

But I did not know you, I thought that you too...

Why, do you know me now?

A little. But why are you trembling?

Perchance you got scared?

No! I am just exceedingly excited.

It's like a dream, I couldn't even imagine

I would ever talk with such a pretty woman.

Oh, don't...

You know, I am very shy with women,

I don't even know how to talk with them.

Though I have turned 26,

I have never talked to any girl.

I do nothing but dream that at last I shall meet someone.

If only you knew how often I have been in love in that way.

How? With whom?

Why, with no one, with an ideal I dream of in my sleep.

Ah, you don't know me!

In my dreams I imagine all kind of plots.

I shall make you laugh if I tell you

that I have several times

thought of speaking to some aristocratic lady in the street.

Speaking to her timidly, respectfully, passionately,

telling her that I am perishing in solitude,

begging her not to send me away.

That, in fact, all I ask is,

that she should say two or three sisterly words with sympathy,

listen me out.

- But you are laughing. - Don't be vexed, -

I am only laughing at your being your own enemy.

But if you had tried, no kind-hearted woman

would send you away without those two kind words.

Though I would take you for a madman.

Oh, thank you!

But tell me how did you find out that I was the sort of woman

with whom...

with whom...

What made you decide to come up to me?

But you were alone,

and that gentleman was too insolent.

No, no, I mean before.

Really I don't know,

but I fancied that you were...

that you were crying, and I...

That's enough, don't talk of it.

Kindly tell me - why?

But there I am home,

I must go down this turning,

it's two steps from here.

Good bye, thank you.

Surely, you don't mean...

that we shall never see each other again?

You see, at first you only wanted two words, and now...

However, I won't say anything...

- Perhaps we shall meet. - I will come here tomorrow,

I will certainly come.

Oh, you are not very patient, you are almost insisting.

Listen, listen...

Certainly I would be eager to see you once again.

Very good, perhaps

I will come here tomorrow, too.

But what time is it now?

About ten o'clock.

I will come at ten sharp,

- only a compact beforehand. A compact? -

Speak, tell me all beforehand, I agree to anything.

Mind you will come on the condition

you won't fall in love with me.

I'm ready for friendship, but not love.

Oh, I swear I won't.

Don't swear, and don't think ill of me for saying so.

I, too, have no one to whom I can say a word,

whose advice I can ask.

If only you knew how I need

a well-meant, friendly advice.

Advice? Pray tell me what kind of advice?

No, no. I will keep it a secret yet.

Maybe I will tell you tomorrow, but maybe not.

I will talk to you, to know you better.

Oh, and I will tell you all about myself tomorrow.

Only I don't know how I'm going to survive till then.

Sleep soundly, and you will survive.

- Well, goodbye. - Goodbye.

And she left.

I kept standing there for a long time

looking at where she had disappeared.

And then I walked about

all night

thinking about her all the time,

repeating again and again:

tomorrow, tomorrow,

tomorrow!

SECOND NIGHT

Well, so you have survived. Good evening.

I've been here for the last two hours.

Oh, what a state I have been in all day.

I know, but I beg you not to squeeze my hand.

I must tell you that I spent a long time thinking about you.

And how did it end?

I decided that I don't know you at all

and that I behaved like a baby last night.

I want to find out all about you minutely. Come

- and tell me your whole history. - My history?

- I have no history. No history? -

None at all. - - Then how have you lived?

I just lived, absolutely without any history,

utterly alone.

But how alone? Do you mean you never saw anyone?

Oh, no, I see people, of course, but still I am alone.

Why, do you never talk to anyone?

Strictly speaking, with no one.

Who are you then? I am... a type!

- Type? - Yes.

Type?

- What kind of type? - A this sort of type!

Aren't you amusing!

- Let's sit down. - Let us.

Well, now start telling your history.

I'm somehow sure it's an interesting one.

- To begin with, what is a type? - A type? -

A type is an original,

an absurd character.

Listen, do you know what is meant by a dreamer?

Indeed I do know. I am a dreamer myself.

As I sit by grandmother, all sorts of things come into my head.

Once in my fancies I even married a Chinese prince!

Excellent, excellent!

Since you've been 'married' to a Chinese emperor,

you will quite understand me.

But one minute, I don't know your name yet.

At last you are asking.

Oh, my goodness, I felt quite happy as it was.

- My name is Nastenka. - Nastenka!

Well, listen, Nastenka,

now for this absurd history.

There are

strange nooks in Petersburg.

It seems as though

the same sun as shines for all Petersburg people

does not peep into those spots,

but some other different new one,

bespoken expressly for those nooks,

and it throws a different light on everything.

In these corners live strange people -

dreamers.

The dreamers, my dear Nastenka, differ from each other.

Some dream about changing life on the Earth,

yet others - about technical progress.

But my dreamer

is absolutely special.

Strictly speaking, it is not a human being,

but a creature of an intermediate sort.

Just look at this funny person.

He is a dreamer.

You see how he is thinking of something.

Of dinner, do you imagine? Or of festive day tomorrow?

No - he is dreaming,

he lives his imaginary life,

What is real life to him!

In his eyes we live, you and I, Nastenka,

so torpidly, slowly, insipidly.

Look at these magic phantasms,

which so enchantingly group before him

amongst the smoke of this room.

Look!

This is what our hero's fantasy world is like.

And what is there for him, voluptuous sluggard, in this life,

for which you and I have such a longing?

He thinks that this is a poor pitiful life,

but sometime the mournful hour may strike,

when for one day of that pitiful life

he would give all his years of fantasy.

Time will come when his heart

will ache in the grips of desperation,

when his fancy will wear out,

and all his ideal mirages

will be shattered into dust.

And then...

And then, O Nastenka, he will ask himself:

what have I done with my best years?

Have I ever lived at all?

Surely you haven't lived like that all your life?

All my life, Nastenka, all my life.

That must not be!

Maybe I myself shall waste all my life beside grandmother.

Do you know, it is not at all good to live like that?

I know, Nastenka, I know!

And now I know it and feel it more painfully,

because God has sent me you.

Now it's over!

Now we shall be two together.

Now, whatever happens, we will never part.

Listen, I am a simple girl,

I have not had much education,

but truly I understand you

I am very glad that you have been quite open with me.

I want to tell you my history too,

all without concealment

and after that you must give me advice.

Tell me frankly, what sort of advice do you want?

My pretty Nastenka! At this moment I am so happy, so bold and sensible.

I don't only want sensible advice,

I want warm brotherly advice,

as though you had been fond of me all your life!

Even if I have loved you, Nastenka, for twenty years,

still I wouldn't have loved you stronger than I do today.

And so let us begin my history.

First of all you must agree not to interrupt me.

I have an old blind grandmother.

I came into her hands when I was a little girl,

for my father and mother are dead.

When I was fifteen,

I got into mischief-

it's enough to say that it wasn't very important.

But grandmother was very angry.

She called me to her,

took a pin,

pinned my dress to hers

and said

that as she was blind she could not look after me,

and so we should sit like that for the rest of our lives.

Only don't you laugh at grandmother, please.

What can I do, since she is like that,

but yet I am fond of her in a way.

Oh, I forgot to tell you

that our house belongs to us, that is to grandmother.

It is a little wooden house with three windows

as old as grandmother herself

with a mezzanine:

I live in one little room there,

and the other room is for rent.

Once there moved in a new lodger,

because the old one had died.

We could not live without a lodger -

the rent is almost all we have.

But the new lodger was a young man,

a stranger not of these parts.

Whistling! God forbid.

He keeps whistling and whistling!

Fyokla!

Granny is calling for you.

What is it?

Tell me, Fyokla, what is our lodger like is he young or old?

What's wrong with her? Deaf as a beetle.

Grandma is asking

whether our new lodger is young or old.

What a silly woman!

Silly indeed!

Perchance you saw him, Nastenka?

Yes, I did. When did you manage to?

I saw him on the day when he arrived.

What is he like young or old?

Not exactly young, but not old either.

Did you notice, my child,

whether he is pleasant or ugly looking?

I noticed, grandmother,

that he is rather pleasant-looking.

Oh, 'tis such a nuisance!

What times these are! Why, a paltry lodger like this,

and he must be pleasant looking too.

It was very different in the old days!

Come here, my child.

Yes, grandmother?

I tell you this, grandchild,

that you may not be looking after him.

Sit here with your handiwork.

There, again...

You know, grandmother was always regretting

the old days:

she was younger in old days,

and the sun was warmer in old days

and cream did not turn so sour in old days -

it was always the old days!

I sat once pinned up to grandmother, thinking:

were old days really so good?

Is your mistress home? Yes, my dear sir.

- Who is here? -Your lodger, Praskovya Ivanovna.

- Good afternoon. - Good afternoon, Nastenka.

Pray, take a seat.

- Fyokla! - What?

Fetch a chair to this young man.

Not to worry, I will fetch it myself.

I brought you the money, Praskovya Ivanovna -

for two months in advance, as we have agreed.

Kindly accept it.

It's very commendable

that you are so young and so accurate.

Take the money, Nastenka,

and put it into my casket.

There should be 12 roubles and 50 kopecks.

You're absolutely right. 12 roubles and 50 kopecks.

Please accept it.

Oh, my goodness, where are you pulling me?

Where are you pulling me?

Why are you standing?

I told you go to my room

and put the money in the casket.

What's the matter? Why are you crying?

Miss, here is the books the lodger sent to you.

He said: let Nastenka read them

lest she is dull sitting with her grandmother.

Oh, grandmother, how many books!

What kind of books are there?

- Are they moral or immoral? - I don't know.

I'll look and see.

If it's immoral books, you shan't even look at them,

one would learn evil from them.

And what should I learn, grandmother?

What is there written in them?

What's described in them, is how young men seduce virtuous girls,

how, on the excuse that they want to marry them,

they carry them off from their parents' houses,

how afterwards they leave these unhappy girls to their fate,

and they perish in the most pitiful way.

But they are all Walter Scott's novels, grandmother.

Novels. I used to read novels in old days.

But stay, isn't there some trick about it?

- Trick? - Look,

hasn't he stuck a love-letter among them?

Let me see.

No, grandmother, there isn't a love-letter.

But look under the binding.

I'm telling you:

they sometimes stuff it under the bindings, the rascals!

No, grandmother, there is nothing under the binding.

Well, that's all right.

That's all right.

Now pick out some novel and read it to me.

I adored novels in old days.

Read.

So we began reading Walter Scott.

Then he sent us more and more. He sent us Pushkin, too,

so that at last I could not get on without a book

and...

left off dreaming of how fine it would be to marry a Chinese prince.

Once...

It was in winter-time...

Good afternoon, Nastenka.

Good afternoon. How is your grandmother?

She is quite well, thank you.

Have you read the books that I sent to you?

I did, and I'm very grateful to you.

And what did you like most of all?

"Ivanhoe" and Pushkin.

Aren't you dull sitting all day with your grandmother?

Excuse my speaking to you like that,

but have you no friends

that you could go and visit?

I have had no friend but Mashenka,

and she had gone away to Pskov.

Would you like to go to the theatre with me?

To the theatre!

What about grandmother?

But you can go without her knowing it.

No,

I don't want to deceive grandmother.

Goodbye.

I'm just a poor shepherd

Who in meadows livestock tends

A curly lamb and doggie

My only dear friends

My only dear friends.

A little creek - my mirror,

My crown-a flowers' wreath

I'll hide away from hot sun

In a shady comb beneath

I'll hide away from hot sun

In a shady comb beneath

I'm not much educated-

A humble underling

I'm only singing carols

About birds and spring

About birds and spring

Good morning. Good morning,

young man. Please, take a seat.

Well, isn't the room too small for you?

Not at all, Praskovya Ivanovna,

I feel quite comfortable.

Very good, very good.

Would you like to go to the theatre?

I have taken a box at the opera for this evening.

My friends meant to go, but afterwards refused.

Why not, why not?

Say, my Nastenka have never been to theatre.

Nastenka, where are you?

I'm here, grandmother.

The young man is inviting us to theatre.

-Shall we go, maybe? - -I don't know. As you wish.

What are they giving tonight?

'The Barber of Seville!! 'The Barber of Seville'! -

Why, the same they used to act in old days?

Yes, it's the same barber.

To be sure, I know it.

Why, I took the part of Rosina myself in old days, at a private performance!

Well, it goes like this..

And if he dares to block my path,

then he had best be ready to feel my wrath!

I've got some tricks to play

aim to get my way

Fyokla, Fyokla!

Yes, my mistress?

Heat the water, get the iron ready,

take out from the chest my moire dress.

- Oh, my goodness! - We are going to the theatre!

Grandmother!

Lo in the smiling sky,

the lovely dawn is breaking,

and you are not awake,

and you are still asleep?

Arise, my sweetest love,

oh come, my treasured one...

Soften the pain of the dart which pierces me.

Thank you.

I'm waiting for you

Here under your windows...

Here...

- Well, goodbye. - Goodbye.

Nastenka...

I expected that he would come and see us

more and more often after that,

but...

He almost entirely gave up coming.

He would just come in about once a month

to give the money to grandmother.

At last I grew thin and was very nearly ill.

I couldn't sit still, I couldn't read,

I couldn't work.

I would pace the rooms,

looking outside,

waiting for him to come.

A wicket gate slammed, our dog Polkan barked,

and I hurried to the mud room

so as to run into him 'accidentally'.

He would come in and, on seeing me,

would bow so silently, so gravely,

as though he did not want to speak.

He would go to his room, even slamming the door,

while I stood there,

as red as a cherry,

my heart torn apart from anguish.

But still I wouldn't go away,

waiting for him

to come out and talk to me.

Once on Sunday, grandmother and Fyokla went to the church,

and the lodger was away, too.

So I quietly went upstairs

and entered his room,

I had never been there before.

Now I knew why he was ignoring me.

He was a learned, well-red man,

while I was just an ignoramus,

sitting pinned up to my grandmother.

Suddenly I felt an urge

to read all these books.

I picked out the thickest book and ran to my room.

What a disappointment -

on opening the book, I saw an unfamiliar Latin text.

Polkan!

I...

- I only wanted... - It's all right.

I'll pick them up.

Let me help you.

Very well.

Nastenka!

Nastenka...

Go away, Nastenka,

go away, it's not good at all.

My God, what a state I was in!

For three weeks on end I wouldn't dare to look at him,

I only blushed and cried.

And the thoughts, most upsetting,

absurd and silly,

whirled in my head.

Meanwhile, spring stepped in.

Miss, our lodger is leaving to Moscow tomorrow.

He said: "Farewell, Fyokla, we won't see each other again."

Grandmother!

Grandmother!

What is it, Nastenka?

What happened, my child?

He is... leaving!

Leaving for good.

Who is leaving?

Our lodger is leaving!

Godspeed to him then.

Let him leave, Nastenka.

Maybe he has some important business waiting.

Don't cry, my child.

We'll let out the room to another lodger,

maybe even better than this one.

I don't want anyone better!

"Oh, my Jesus!

"Oh, my Jesus," I thought,

"What am I to do?"

"If he leaves, I will never see him again."

"And I'll spend all my life"

"in the company of grandmother and Fyokla."

Forgive me, grandmother.

Nastenka...

Nastenka...

What happened?

Calm down, Nastenka.

Listen, Nastenka,

listen, oh you good pure soul.

How could we live?

I have no wherewithal.

Have I any right to marry you?

But I...

I don't want to live with grandmother.

I will run away from her all the same.

I don't want to be pinned to her.

If you don't want to marry me,

I will simply follow you to Moscow.

Because... because...

Because I can't live without you.

My darling!

My dear good Nastenka,

do you know, my angel,

that I love you, too, since the very beginning.

I swear to you

that if I am ever in a position to marry,

you are the only one

who could make me happy.

But tomorrow I must leave by all means,

because I can't stay here anymore.

And I will leave not to Moscow,

but somewhere far away, somewhere no one can find me,

so that you would forget about me.

And in a year

I will come back.

I will certainly come back, because I I love you.

And if you still love me,

if you don't forget me,

I will marry you, and we...

We shall be happy!

Next morning he left.

More than twelve months have passed,

he is back in Petersburg, and...

And what?

And up to now has not shown himself!

There's no sign or sound of him.

How do you know?

Perhaps he hasn't returned.

- Perhaps he is not here yet. He is. -

He is.

I know it.

But tell me, can I do anything to help you?

Wouldn't it be possible for me to go to him?

Would that be possible? - No, of course not.

But if you wrote a letter... - - A letter?

No, that's impossible, I can't do that.

But why? It depends what sort of letter:

there are letters and letters and...

How would you write?

- Write what? - This letter.

I tell you how I would write:

- 'Dear sir... - Must I really begin like that?

What? - Must I begin with 'Dear Sir'? -

You certainly must! Though, after all, I don't know, I imagine...

Well, well, what next?

'Dear Sir, forgive my impatience,

'but I have been happy for a whole year in hope

'which you filled me with during your departure.

'Now that you have come,

'perhaps you have changed your mind.

'If so, this letter is to tell you

'that I do not repine, nor blame you.

'such is my fate!'

Yes, yes!

That's exactly what I was thinking!

What a nice wording!

But now I tell you what, listen:

When parting, we made an agreement

that as soon as he arrived

he would let me know through people of my acquaintance

and would be here at ten o'clock on the day he arrived.

I know he has arrived already:

but now it's the third day I'm coming here,

but there's no sign of him. So I'm asking you:

give this letter to those kind people I spoke to you about.

And if there is an answer you bring it tomorrow.

Tomorrow?

But you must write the letter first!

The letter... The letter...

Here it is.

- Ro-si-na! - Ro-si-na!

Rosina!

Come, enough, enough! Granny must be worried already.

Here is the letter, here is the address.

Goodbye, till we meet again! Till tomorrow!

And again I stood motionless

and looked at her leaving...

And again,

in utter excitement, I walked along the desolate streets

and banks of the Neva river,

whispering over and over:

Till tomorrow!

Till tomorrow!

Till tomorrow!

THIRD NIGHT

Well? Tell me everything straight away.

I have carried out all your commissions,

given the letter, gone to see your good friends.

My God, you are so nice, so disinterested!

Any other person would have fallen in love with me,

but you are so nice -

so nice, that you even passed my letter

and brought flowers for me.

When I am married

we will be great friends,

I shall care almost as I do for him.

You...

You are very much upset,

you are frightened: you think he won't come.

Oh dear!

Don't talk like this!

I believe I should cry

at your lack of faith.

Listen, Nastenka!

I... I don't know what is going on with me.

On the way here

it seemed to me as if my life had stopped,

but hardly had I...

Hardly had I seen you...

What are you afraid of?

Why did you let go of my hand?

We will meet him together.

I want him to see how fond we are of each other.

How fond we are of each other!

Oh, Nastenka, can't you see...

Yes, yes, now I will own that you are right.

I'm frightened.

I am somehow not myself:

I am all suspense, waiting for him.

But hush!

He will come.

He will surely come.

Yes, of course he will come.

You know, my dear Dreamer,

I feel a little vexed

that you are not in love with me.

There's no understanding you!

Listen!

That's eleven,

I believe.

Three...

Four...

Five...

Six...

Seven...

Eight...

Nine...

Ten...

Eleven...

Eleven!

Yes,

it's eleven!

How can you? How can you?

Oh, what a baby you are.

Why, he could not have come,

he can scarcely have received the letter.

Suppose he is not able to come,

suppose he was not at home.

Anything may happen, you know.

Yes, yes!

Of course anything may happen.

I tell you what you must do,

you go as early as possible tomorrow morning,

and if you get anything

let me know at once.

You know where I live, don't you?

In a by-street here behind the bridge.

In a small wooden house.

You are so kind, you know.

Why isn't he you?

He is not as good as you,

though I love him more than you.

Or maybe it's unfair to say so?

No, it's all right, Nastenka.

It only means that you love him more than anything else in the world.

It must be truly so.

But tell me:

why is it that even the best of men

always seem to hide something from other people?

Why not say straight out what is in one's heart?

But, Nastenka, there are many reasons for that.

No, no! Here you, for instance,

it seems to me that you are sacrificing something for me.

- Oh, not all! - But what you told me -

about your dreamer is quite untrue now!

It's not true of you.

Oh, it's not untrue!

It's clear he won't come to-night.

- He will come tomorrow. - Yes,

I see for myself now that he could not come till tomorrow.

- Well, goodbye. - Goodbye.

If it rains perhaps I shall not come,

granny won't allow me.

But the day after tomorrow, I shall come for certain.

Be sure to be here, I want to see you and tell you everything.

We shall always be together, shan't we?

Oh, Nastenka, Nastenka!

If only you knew

how lonely I am now!

On the next day it was rainy,

but still I came waiting for her

when the clock struck nine.

It seemed to me that she would come

in spite of the weather.

But she didn't come.

FOURTH NIGHT

Well...

She didn't not come.

I walked to and fro,

waiting for her.

My head was abuzz with all kind of strange, most peculiar thoughts.

At last I lowered myself on the bench

and mused about everything.

'Indeed, ' thought I,

'how fine joy and happiness

'makes any one!'

There was such a softness in her words,

such a kindly feeling in her heart towards me yesterday...

Her heart was brimming with love to that other man.

But, my God,

I thought that she...

Oh, my God!

How could I have thought it?

When everything

had been taken by another already.

When, in fact, her very tenderness to me,

her anxiety, her love...

yes, love for me,

was nothing else but joy at the thought

of seeing another man so soon.

I sat there engrossed in my thoughts,

under the peltering rain.

At last I rose to my feet impatiently

and, ashamed of myself, walked towards the by-street.

Her wooden house was as old as her grandmother.

It was all wrapped in darkness,

only a little light quivered

in Nastenka's room.

She was probably writing a letter to him.

Or, maybe, the two of them

were already together...

I stood there, looking at the light

until it went out.

Now listen

how it all ended.

My God, how it has all ended!

FIFTH NIGHT

Nastenka!

Well?

Make haste, give me the letter!

The letter!

Where is the letter?

Speak up!

But there is no letter.

No letter?

Hasn't he been to you yet?

Well, God be with him.

God be with him

if he leaves me like that.

Oh don't, don't!

Don't, Nastenka!

What for?

Oh, how inhumanly cruel it is!

When I think that I was the first to go to him,

that I humbled myself before him,

cried,

that I begged of him a little love!

And not a line after that!

Not a single line!

But, listen,

maybe it isn't so?

Maybe you are mistaken?

Perhaps he has not received the letter?

Perhaps he still knows nothing about it?

How could anyone, tell me,

behave with such barbarous coarseness?

Nastenka, Nastenka!

Why do you keep silent?

Just say anything!

I shall go to him tomorrow in your name.

I will question him about everything, I will tell him everything.

You write a letter.

Don't say no, Nastenka,

don't say no!

I will make him respect your action,

and if...

No, my friend, not another word,

not another line from me!

I don't know him.

I don't love him anymore.

I will forget him!

Nastenka, where are you going?

Nastenka!

Calm yourself, calm yourself!

Nastenka,

calm yourself, for God's sake.

I am calm. Don't trouble. It's nothing!

Why, do you imagine

I shall do away with myself,

that I shall throw myself into the river?

No, my friend!

It's only tears, they will soon dry.

Well, thank God.

Let's sit here.

Tell me, my friend:

you wouldn't have behaved like this, would you?

You would not have abandoned a girl who had come to you of herself?

You would not have laughed at her weak foolish heart?

You would have realized that it was not her fault,

that she had done nothing...

Nastenka, you torture me!

I cannot be silent anymore!

I must speak at last!

What I am going to say to you now is all nonsense,

all impossible, all stupid!

But I...

I love you and I love you!

Well, what then?

What of it?

I knew you loved me long ago,

only I always thought that you simply liked me.

At first it was simply liking,

but now, now!

I am just in the same position as you were

when you went to him with your bundle.

Even in a worse position than you, Nastenka.

What are you saying to me!

What's this for?

I don't mean what for, but why are you so suddenly...

Oh dear, I am talking nonsense!

But you...

What's to be done, Nastenka?

I am to blame.

But no, no, I am not to blame.

I cannot hurt you in any way, I cannot wound you!

I was your friend, but I am still your friend.

You would never have found out that I loved you.

I would not have worried you at such a moment.

But I could not resist it now, you spoke of it yourself.

It is your fault, your fault and not mine.

You cannot drive me away from you.

No, no, I don't drive you away,

no! You... You...

-You don't drive me away? No. -

Listen, my friend,

I am, of course, a poor, humble man,

of no great consequence,

only I would love you,

I would love you so!

That even if you still loved him,

even if you went on loving him,

you would never feel that my love

was a burden to you. You would only feel

every minute that at your side

was beating a grateful heart, a warm heart ready for your sake.

Oh Nastenka, Nastenka!

Don't cry.

Don't cry.

I don't want you to cry.

Come along, get up,

let us go now, maybe I will tell you something.

Come along.

Listen,

answer me.

If I were to love you, for instance,

that is, if I only...

Oh my friend, to think how I wounded you,

when I laughed at your love...

No, Nastenka,

I'd better go away now,

I'd better go away.

I am simply tormenting you.

- Farewell! - Wait!

Wait.

Listen to me:

- can you wait? Wait? -

What for? How?

I love him,

but I shall get over it.

I am getting over it, I feel that...

Only don't say anything now!

Let's go.

It's like this:

don't think

that I am so light and inconstant,

or that I can forget

and change so quickly.

I...

I have loved him for a whole year,

but he has wounded my heart.

I... I do not love him anymore.

- Oh, Nastenka! - Well, that's enough of him.

But don't let us say any more about that.

I only wanted to tell you...

I wanted to tell you

that if, although I love him

(no, did love him),

if, in spite of this you feel

that your love is so great

that it may at last drive from my heart my old feeling -

if you are ready to love me always as you do now

I swear to you that my love

will be at last worthy of your love.

Will you take my hand?

Nastenka!

Oh Nastenka,

my Nastenka! - - Enough, enough!

Everything is said.

We are both happy, and let us not say more.

Please, talk about something else.

Why, of course! Let us talk about something else!

Let us go and talk about something else!

Oh, Nastenka, Nastenka!

I am so happy, so happy!

My God, how happy I am!

I am living alone now, Nastenka.

But tomorrow...

Tomorrow...

Of course, you know, I am poor.

Well, not exactly.

I have only got my salary, but that doesn't matter.

Of course not.

But we must take granny.

- And she has her pension. - Of course we must take granny.

But there's Matrona, my cook.

And we've got Fyokla too!

- We must take Fyokla. - Of course we'll take Fyokla.

Matrona is a good woman, but she has no imagination,

absolutely none!

Only you must move to us tomorrow.

To you? How so?

I would gladly do so, but...

You could hire a room from us. - Oh, really?

Yes, it's empty now.

We had an old man there, but he had died.

So you can move straight away tomorrow.

Yes, straight away.

I owe a little for my rent,

but that doesn't matter, I shall soon get my salary.

And I will perhaps give lessons:

I will learn something myself and then give lessons.

Capital!

And I shall soon get a bonus, they promised me.

So by tomorrow you will be my lodger.

Yes, and we'll go to theatre,

to 'The Barber of Seville'.

Yes, we'll go,

but better see something else

and not 'The Barber of Seville'.

Very well, something else.

Of course that will be better.

Here we are, near our bench.

Yes.

But it's time I was home at last.

- It must be very late. - Yes,

it must be late.

Only I shan't sleep tonight:

I am not going home.

I don't think I shall sleep either.

Only see me home.

I should think so!

- Well, come along. Come along. -

Look at the sky, Nastenka. Look!

Tomorrow it will be a lovely day.

Look, that yellow cloud

is covering the Moon now.

Look, look!

Who is it, Nastenka?

It's...

It's he...

Nastenka!

Nastenka! It's you!

MORNING

Who is there? - -Sir, it's me, Matrona.

- There's a letter for you. - A letter?

From whom?

I don't know, sir, better look.

Some bespectacled gentleman brought it.

Give it to me.

It's from her...

It's from her,

Oh, forgive me, forgive me!

I beg you on my knees to forgive me!

I deceived you and myself.

It was a dream, a mirage...

I shall remember for ever how you opened your heart to me

and so generously accepted the gift

of my shattered heart to care for it, nurse it and heal it...

Don't blame me,

for I have not changed to you in the least.

I told you that I would love you,

I love you now,

I more than love you.

If only I could love you both at once!

Oh, if only you were he!

We shall meet,

you will come to our wedding,

you will be for ever a friend, a brother to me.

Forgive me,

remember and love your Nastenka.

Your Nastenka...

Your Nastenka...

Your Nastenka...

And here ends

my story about white nights, my dear gentlemen.

My dear Nastenka,

to imagine that I should

bear you a grudge!

Oh never, never,

my dear, kind girl.

May your sky be clear,

may your sweet smile

be bright and untroubled,

and may you be blessed for that moment of blissful happiness

which you gave to another, lonely and grateful heart!

My God,

My God, five nights!

Five blissful nights

of true, wonderful life!

The miserable,

unimportant phantasms

to which I dedicated my whole youth

simply pale before it...

No,

no, my dear gentlemen.

They were just a puff,

a one big

and complete zero!

Just a zero!

The End