All language subtitles for E-T.R.o.C.t.G.S02E08.Episode.8.1080p.Amazon.WEB-DL.DD.2.0.x264-TrollHD_track4_[eng]

SUPPORTED BY THE MINISTRY OF
CULTURE
OF THE RUSSIAN FEDERATION

RUSSIA 1

The war cannot be stopped.
And this war will destroy us.

We won't stand against them
we will die.

Nikita Ivanovich, I know you are
trying
to make me see something. But
see what?!

It's up to you, whether the
throne gets
secured or crumbles once and for
all.

And?!

Do not oppose the marriage of
the Empress and Count Orlov.

God preserve you, Nikita
Ivanovich,

you used to say that Russia
cannot be ruled by a Mrs.
Orlova.

You were against the wedding,
talked about conspiracies.

Yes, I did say that.

I did say that, and opposed it,
and it's sheer luck.

The empress is merciful
and does not cut people's
tongues off.

An Orlov instead of a Romanov as
an Emperor.

And two heirs from two different
men...

Nikita Ivanovich,
this will not secure the throne.

And what if there are more
children in the future?!

If a son is conceived in a
lawful marriage,
he will be an heir to the
throne,

equal to Pavel Petrovich
and Alexei Grigorievich.

Three heirs!

You know, there's this
good bit of folk wisdom:

no point counting what you'll
never have.

Remind me what was that Count
Orlov
promised to the members of the
Synod.

To return the land back to the
monasteries.

The land can never
be returned now.

I will try to convince the
empress to solemnly
swear not to shut down any
monasteries again.

Just two days ago, she shut down
the monastery
in Suzdal and turned it into a
prison.

- But it was a prison!
- A monastery prison!

What difference does it make?!
Now it will be
a prison for those who committed
high treason.

Your Eminence, this is not what
we should be talking about,

let us forget about our
disagreements.

But what about the conspiracy,
Nikita Ivanovich?

What conspiracy?
Dear God!

There was no conspiracy.

Just a simple wish to give one's
life
for the sake of Russia's
prosperity.

Read this.

“Report on Count Orlov's
Performance
of His Duties and Leisure”.

So, tell me the news.

There is no news. I am not with
child.

You are not trying.

But he is, tirelessly.

He just confessed his love
for me again this morning.

I did ask you not to discuss
anything
of substance with Pavel
Petrovich.

I didn't say a thing, just
asked him to let me sleep.

Your Majesty, he may fall in
love for real.

Just two more weeks will be
enough.

He may start pursuing me.

We'll tell him that you caught
consumption,

or you can go abroad,

or I can exile you to a convent.

Don't worry, not forever.

Don't read this, better burn it.

Pavel Petrovich...

Pavel Petrovich, my sweet
tormentor, I beg you.

- It will be morning soon. Pease
leave me.
- Sofya Stepanovna, I don't want
to sleep.

And I do, Pavel Petrovich, I do
want to sleep, very, very much.

I don't feel anything, don't
want anything.

When you awake I will be all
yours.
But now, sleep, sleep,
sleeeeeep!

Sleep!

- Sofya Stepanovna...
- God, no!

- Sofya Stepanovna...
- This is impossible...

Sofya Stepanovna..., where are
you going?

Well, well, well.

I am in luck. I am!

I'll place twelve hundred.

- Winning card!
- Yes!

Pavel Petrovich, I can't take
it.

I am bad at pretending.
Please let me go to my room.

I love you.

This is a torture.
You are my cruel executioner.

Please stay, I will guard your
sleep, please.

I promise I won't touch you.

- Promise?
- Promise.

Your Highness, please excuse me,
but
Count Panin is here to see you.

What of it?
I am not seeing anyone. We are
going to sleep.

The Count is your mentor and is
free to see you whenever he
wants.

Shall I get you dressed?

You have already missed your
breakfast and first lesson.

- I will leave.
- Please stay.

It your father or your older
brother had come here, then...

I don't have a father, or an
older brother.

And I don't need a mentor, I am
a grown man.

- Sofya Stepanovna, tell him.
- Oh, yes.

- Your Highness.
- Your Excellency.

- Sofya Stepanovna.
- Yes, Nikita Ivanovich, good
morning.

Well then, get up, quick now.

We have games and entertainment
in
our schedule, all in the
outdoors.

Sofya Stepanovna, do you wish to
go outdoors?

Oh, no. I didn't get any sleep
tonight.
Too much entertainment.

This entertainment is of a
different sort.
And now hurry up, to a horseback
ride.

And then, if you want,
you can do some hunting.

Would you fancy shooting some
boars in the oat fields?

Nikita Ivanovich, was it the
empress's
idea or yours to tyrannize me
so?

The empress insists that
you do not sit idly here.

The heir to the throne must be
robust in body and in spirit.

I don't believe you.

The empress has always wanted
her heir to be a Harlequin.

Who would spend all his time
in bed with pretty women.

Enough chatter. Do get dressed.

Your Majesty.

I made special note of his
visits to madam Lavinia's salon.

What was he doing there? Love
affairs?

- No, by no means.
- But what else can one do
there?

He spent days on end there, and
nights too.

I do not understand when he
slept.

- Or did he sleep in there?
- No.

And what about cards, billiards?

Did he gamble? That is unlike
him.

Grigory Grigorievich played an
occasional game of faro and
pyramid.

But... he got medical treatment
there and...
he still does.

He has fallen seriously ill,
but does not wish to trouble
you.

Ill with what?

A certain medicus by the name
of Pinkus bled him a little,

applied leeches, and performed
some other manipulations.

- Which ones, Adam Vasilievich?
- That I do not know, Your
Majesty.

I asked around among the
servants.
But you know me, I am a
mild-mannered man...

Who is that medicus?

From Ligovsky Prospekt, cheap,
charges twenty kopeck per hour.

Thank you.

Pass the report on to Mr.
Sheshkovsky,
it is now his job to deal with
this.

Your Majesty.

The day is sunny and warm,
and you are in here.

Nobody has cancelled the walk.

You brother intends to go
hunting, shooting boars.

Would you like to come with him?

Imagine, the sun sets, and the
boars come out into the field.

The oats have been left behind
on purpose.

You and your brother are sitting
high up on a tree stand.

With rifles in your hands.
It's cold and damp.

You cannot move, or you scare
them off.

And they keep coming, they come,
they dig, giant hogs, and sows,

and tiny piglets, and they go
oink-oink.

Would be a pity to shoot them,
right?

But you are not obliged to shoot
them.

You can just sit there, and
look,
and watch, would you like that?

I do not understand. Yes or no?

Yes.

Yes, that's right!

Come here.

What a good boy you are, Alexei
Grigorievich.

How I wish I had a son like you.

This spring I decided to get
married.

I wanted to start a family.

Dreamed up all sort of things,
and a son too.

And then my bride died.

That's life.

I have it all: money, and glory,
and a court position, and power.

But what's the point of it all?

After that.

Now go.

Go, get yourself ready.

Mister Pinkus.

You were asked a question: what
is Count Orlov's sickness.

Are we speaking of Count
Grigory Grigorievich Orlov?

Naturally.

If I were you, I would not
ask about his sickness,

which one may live with quite
well,
depriving oneself only of sinful
pleasures,

while sickness is something
that can bring both minor

inconveniences and
significant suffering,

the loss of one's
abilities and even death.

Do not forget where you are, Mr.
Pinkus.

You do not forget about the
trust that
exists between a practicing
medicus

and his patient,
and the Hippocratic Oath.

It has been observed for more
than
2000 years, this oath.

And it is not to me, Pinkus the
Medicus,

20 kopeck per hour, outpatient
visits,
to betray it.

I would ask you to keep me
company,
I have some business in the
dungeon.

The Hippocratic Oath seems to
have regrettably slipped my
mind,

so you can remind me on the way.

You do remember it by heart, do
you not?

- Like Pater Noster.
- Here, if you please.

Blessed be the Almighty God,

Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,
blessed for all eternity.

- I am not lying.
- Come.

Yes, yes, I am listening.

Into whatsoever house I enter,

I will enter to help the sick,
and I will abstain from all

intentional wrong-doing and
harm.

Especially...

...from abusing the bodies
of man or woman.

...I will follow this written
c-covenant
and written o-obligation
honestly,

according to my ability and
re-reasoning.

I will remain in my life and
my art of my profession...

- Do come through.
- As well as outside my
p-profession...

Sit, Pinkus. Sit.

Who is that?

- Suspected of killing a Pole.
- Confession?

Gave one, Your Worship, and
named the murder weapon too,

but couldn't name the place.

Cut it already, will you?

Nah, if I cut ropes every
time, I'll soon run out.

- Are you finished, Pinkus?
- Yes.

Are you quite satisfied or...

C-can we continue upstairs?

Let us leave, Mr. Pinkus, follow
me.

I treated His Excellency for
male impotence.

Treated him for a long time,
tried out plenty remedies.

And I cured him!

Is that even possible?

My test showed that His
Excellency
once again has the fire of
youth.

Ready to spar at any time of day
and night.

- Your test?
- A natural experiment.

We brought him a girl, and the
Count
claimed her right there, with no
prelude.

Paid me double, with no
trickery, His Excellency did.

Watch your tongue, Pinkus.

My apologies.

It's just that there are so
many swindlers these days!

Describe your course of
treatment.

Cut the flaps, cauterized with
alums, made a special mixture,

and the patient followed the
full medication regimen.

Your Worship, if you have a
similar mishap, I can help.

But here, you will have to
choose, one or the other.

Now many men choose the burden
of passion.

Shall I give you the names?

It is my understanding that
Count Orlov
will never become a father
again.

Never!
Out of the question!

But bearing in mind that we are
all mortal,
that our time here is short,

the choice is quite obvious.

What else did you treat the
Count for?

He did not complain of anything.
And I did not ask him.

The medical science knows for a
fact that
the internal organs are not
interlinked,

and if you have a healthy liver,
it
doesn't stop you from dying of
pneumonia!

Any co-conspirators?

- I work alone.
- Shall I find them?

That would surprise me.

Sign this.

It is impossible to restore the
child-bearing
function after a resection,

but for a complete picture,
I would need to conduct an
examination.

Is it true that such treatment
causes a wild surge of lust?

Yes, Your Majesty.
But not for long, just briefly.

Otherwise every man, once
reaching maturity, would have

preferred to trade the ability
to prolong his bloodline

for a chance to relish in joys
of
the flesh until his very
deathbed.

But, praise the Lord, the
medical science
is impotent when faced with male
impotence.

The medicus that maimed Grigory
Grigorievich is a charlatan.

Do not disturb Her Majesty,
she wishes to be alone.

Took gifts, that I did, Your
Worship.

I keep quiet easily.

My mom and dad did not approve
of blabbering,
if some girl chattered too much,

they'd say “she goes
rattling like a pea bucket”.

Fyokla, get to the point.

I took gifts twice,
a ruble each.

And a lot of good they did me.

Went to Sytny Market, I did, to
buy two shirts for my Antip...

I do not care!

His Excellency was
close to dying twice,

but God did not claim him,
allowed him to live some more,

but what for, he alone know sand
never will,

even if you take me to the
dungeon and
burn me with hot irons.

I do not understand,
Agniya, who knows?

Our Almighty Lord.

And who did you think it was?

It happens that Excellency
doesn't feel right.

his eyes roll up, and his
tongue sort of fall back.

And then I go - plop! Right
under his nose!

Would you like a sniff?
Creeps right to your marrow!

He took your pawn.

I am claiming my harvest!

Yes?

You have guests, Your Highness.

I am not seeing anyone.

I am afraid they'll force their
way in.

- Pavel Petrovich!
- My friends!

We've come to see you!

Here to say goodbye, I am off to
sea.

I will be in charge of a
packet boat “Bystriy”.

- “Bystriy”?
- That's what it's called.

Two masts, twelve cannons, crew
of fifty.

And I'll serve in the infantry!

I can't believe that they
entrusted you with a navy ship!

I did not expect that myself.
My father pulled some strings.

Now it's another victory
or bullet in the head.

Sofya Stepanovna, please excuse
me.

I assume you've met my friends,
but I haven't introduced you.

This is hardly the right
time, Pavel Petrovich.

You can't have so little tact,
can you?

Yes, the circumstances are
hardly fitting.

As they say in the navy, the
dispositions couldn't be worse.

Oh, stop it now!

I would ask all of you to
leave, I need to get dressed.

What a bothersome whim, bursting
into someone's bedroom!

Alexei Grigorievich, I almost
forgot!

I have a gift for you: a
boatswain's whistle.

Thank you. You are a real
friend, Andrei Kirillovich.

Come!

We are having a wonderful
time, you and me together.

A wonderful time.

Take it down!

Adam Vasilievich...

Am I, once again, unaware of
something that everyone else
knows?

Nikita Ivanovich, I prefer not
to
concern myself with idle
questions.

The empress ordered to take it
down.

But you yourself do understand
what for?

Of course.

No.

Sofya Stepanovna, allow me to
write to you.

I barely know you.
Correspondence
is for people who know each
other.

Pyotr Kirillovich Razumovsky,
lieutenant of the Ladozhsky
Infantry Regiment.

Sofya Stepanovna, married
name Chertoryzhskaya,

Her Majesty's lady in waiting.

As I see, we have nothing more
to talk about.

In your company, I like being
silent, too.

Kindly name the reason
for this correspondence.

I have a troop in my command and
need to head off to my garrison.

And that is the reason, Pyotr
Kirillovich?

Well, officers are supposed to
court ladies.

And you can't do that without
correspondence.

That is a rather frank
explanation.

Very well, I permit you to write
me a letter.

But I will not reply.

You misunderstand. Or rather, I
explained it in a wrong way.

Try again.

Pavel Petrovich is not going to
marry you.

Please do not be angry and let
me finish!

He is not going to marry you,
but I am.

You may find it hard to believe
now,
but this is the way it shall be.

I do not insist on change, Your
Eminence.

Your Majesty.

I will keep fighting for
approval
during the Synod meeting.

I do not see any obstacles in
the way
of your marriage with Count
Orlov.

Now is not the time.

Russia is about to enter a war
with
a cruel and powerful adversary.

Please go to the royal place
of prayer, Your Majesty.

Is it that important where I
stand?

What will happen to monasteries
and monastery land?

I hope that the church will
render aid to
the army and navy of its own
free will.

You know why Peter the Great
resorted to extreme measures

and molded cannons out of church
bells.
I oppose extreme measures.

It is devastating to see
monasteries shut down.

It pains our church.

We are asking you to find a
solution.
That is of utmost importance
now.

What are you saying!

That is of utmost importance?!

That is pain?!

It is embarrassing to listen to
you.

I am asking you to call the
Synod
together and voice your opinion

on the atrocities against the
serfs.

It is the church's duty to
protect the serfs
and expose the crimes of the
land owners.

Up to excommunication.

I am still waiting

for the Synod to deny service to
those
who harbor murderers and
abusers.

The senior priest of the Troitsk
church must be thrown to the
pit!

There is a war coming, and
our people are all whipped.

They get skinned alive
for daring to complain.

Do your really think the people
will
rise up in defense of the whips

and abusive masters?

Will the monstrous Saltykova be
executed?

She will be punished as law
demands.

Do you allow her name to
be mentioned in sermons?

No.

Starting for the day when
the decree is announced,

she is to be called
nothing but Saltychikha.

The way she was called by the
serfs
that she killed and mutilated.

And what about the wedding, Your
Majesty?

Do you wish to postpone it?

Forget the wedding.

Hear ye, hear ye!

Ekaterina the Second, by the
grace of God,
Empress and autocrat of all
Russian, decrees!

That Darya Nikolaevna Saltykova,
nee Ivanova,

has been found guilty of
torturing and
murdering more than a hundred
serfs.

This killer and tormentor shall
hereby be stripped of her noble
rank,

shall be prohibited to be
referred to
by her father's or husband's
name...

and shall be confined prison
without light or human company!

Light is allowed
only while eating,

and speaking is allowed only
to the Guard Commander.

Are you certain or just
suspecting?

I am certain.

Could there have been a mistake?

I am with child.

Fathered by Pavel Petrovich?

By your son.

- Does he know?
- No.

Keep it quiet.

He won't find out.

No, of course, this is a joyous
occasion.

I am finally confident about
the Grand Prince's future.

Time to find him a bride.

You seem unhappy?

This is my first.

I have been with many men, but
not like this.

What do you know the Romanov
dynasty finally produces

a man capable of bearing
offspring from a young age?

I'll pick him a German wife with
broad hips.

For making a lot of little boys
and girls.

Let them give me grandchildren.

Pavel Petrovich will never
become a decent emperor.

But I will make emperors out
of my grandchildren yet.

As, God knows, I have no
intention of dying.

And what about me?

I am even feeling hungry all of
a sudden.

Seven to eight weeks.

You will have to leave Pavel
Petrovich.

I want to end it, too. I'm too
ashamed.

- I never expected this.
- No need to torture yourself.

I have never kept anything from
men before.

I have had small affairs, no
strings attached.

But Pavel Petrovich is such a
kind boy.

He is not a boy. He is the Grand
Prince.

All right, so it's not a boy but
the
Grand Prince I am keeping this
from.

We need to get rid of it.

Isn't it too late?

No point in delaying it. We
have found out what we needed.

I cannot do this, Your Majesty.

What do you mean, you cannot do
this?

- I have never performed the
operation before.
- Who can do it then?

I assume, the medicus who
treated Count Orlov.

Can we give Pavel Petrovich a
different title?

I would like to find him a
bride, so it needs
to be emphasized that my heir is
now eligible.

Perhaps “heir to the imperial
throne”?

If Your Majesty allows, I would
take the
liberty of suggesting
“Cesarevich”.

It sounds solemn, and resembles
both “Tsarevich” and “Caesar”.

Peter the Great did not
like the word “Tsarevich”.

It invoked memories of Tsarevich
Alexei's tragic fate.

At one point, he even
ordered to ban this word.

When his daughters were born, he
could have called them
“Tsarevnas”,

but he preferred the new word,
“Cesarevnas”.

And Cesarevich? Has anyone
had this title before?

No, Your Majesty.
There was no occasion for that.

- What about Pyotr Fyodorovich?
- No.

He was never referred
to as the Cesarevich,

just the great heir
to the throne.

If you wish, I can find out the
reason.

I think that Elizaveta
Petrovna did not want to waste

this beautiful word on her
mindless and trite nephew.

Cesarevich Pavel Petrovich.

It sounds majestic.

Grigory Alexandrovich, how are
you, what's new in your life?

I am spending all my life
waiting, Your Majesty.

How I long to just meet with you
and never to hurry anywhere.

Just you and me.

There is so much I
wish to tell you.

But for now, I will write to
you.
Thank you for the walk.

Changed four lovers in one
night.

Keep riding around in a stupid
carriage,
for gawkers to see and mock at
me.

They're spreading rumors that I
have a
tape worm, wagging their tongues
about me.

As if they have nothing else to
talk about.
A pointless, empty life.

I don't know what I am living
for.

I'll get you married. Find
someone for you.

Find whom?

There can hardly be few people

who would love to get 5000 acres
of
land, a 1000 serfs, and a big
house?

You are generous with your
gifts to me, Your Majesty.

Let Rogerson tell you the
medicus' address, and go there.

There are people who write
letters
about the offences they have
suffered,

about their failures and
disappointments.

But not me.

Still, today I cannot write
a happy letter, either.

My heart is filled with unease
and doubt.

There is no one I can share
with, no one I can talk to.

Do not be surprised, just
believe me.

To His Excellency, Grigory
Alexandrovich Potemkin.

- Thank you.
- I was ordered to wait for a
reply.

In my side I really want to save
brave,
intelligent and ingenious
people.

You are reading this letter
could
think about why I wrote it?

I will answer you.

Because you should know, that I
think about
you and I am always benevolent
to you.

Not bad, but...

Ekaterina.

Nice.

This is just a job half-done,
Your Majesty,
so much still needs to be
reworked.

I know a Russian proverb: Don't
show half-baked work to fools.

This is not what I meant.

And in any case, the proverb is
wrong.

There is no point to showing
a fool anything at all.

You should not show half-baked
work to someone wise...

I... I am sorry, I've said
too much, Your Majesty.

Have you found the right stone?
As tall as three men?

The search is underway.

Ivan Ivanovich placed a notice
in the Vedomosti paper.

Maybe someone will
respond to us.

You are talking like a true
Russian: maybe yes, maybe no.

I didn't expect that from you!

This is a momentous
task, Your Majesty.

One that can be solved only
thinking like a true Russian!

And if one thinks like a
Frenchman.

- Can you do it, Monsieur
Falconet?
- Yes.

Give me freedom to act, Your
Majesty, and I
shall make the best monument in
the world!

My monument will keep bringing
joy
to people for five hundred
years.

It bears giving Monsieur
Falconet his due, Your Majesty.

This project is very important
to him, he
is dreaming of a magnificent
sculpture!

- Ivan Ivanovich.
- Your Majesty!

I learned that you were visiting
and decided to go back.

They did it! They found a stone!

I was just going to Lakhta, to
see for myself.

Lakhta — that's on the Gulf
shore?

Yes, Your Majesty.
A boulder of an incredible size!

They call it the Thunder Stone.

This is it, Your Majesty.
The Thunder Stone.

- I wonder how much it weighs.
- That would be some five
million pounds.

I intended to split it up and
sell it,
was already counting the
profits.

- What stopped you?
- Did not have the money to buy
tools with.

- It won't give in to simple
iron.
- You can see it from far off!

Thank you, Vishnyakov.

A pleasure.

It has many cracks, but we do
not need
a boulder this large in any
case.

We'll chisel off the
unwanted bits along the way.

However will we get it to the
Winter Palace?
Will you pull through?

Our men will, Your Majesty.

- As they say, many hands make
light work.
- Light work?

We will make it.

I know some strong fellows.

We'll pull it out and then haul
it to that
big water out there along the
forest's edge.

It won't be quick, so
we'll have to be patient.

And then?

Then we'll need machinery and a
sturdy barge.

- How much will it cost?
- A hundred, I summed it up
already.

“A hundred”? “A hundred” of
what?

Rubles, of course.
Not kopecks, obviously, Your
Majesty.

- A month?
- A year.

And then, fifty for each of my
men.

And some money for buying timber
for
levers, and some tools and such.

Saws, picks, shovels, iron bars.

And some supple ropes, too.

- And how many men?
- Not many, Your Majesty.

Let's make it around three dozen
master
workers, and, say, five hundred
helpers.

And no less than a hundred
horses.

Any kind of horses, so long as
they can pull.

Anyways, whatever it is, you
will still
have to pay ten kopeck for one
horse.

You won't change your mind, will
you?

Who, me?

Crows will sooner start flying
backwards
than Borka Vishnyakov turns down
good work.

How did you put it? “Light
work...”

Many hands make light work.

Many hands make light work.

Monsieur Betskoy, the most
challenging
part of transportation is
rollers.

I suggest skids with spheres.
Copper or iron...

Imagine how many spheres we
will need, Monsieur Falconet.

The job will take around three
years.

We will need to construct two
piers here and
one in St. Petersburg, and then
barges, too.

And we will need to build a
village.

This can be delegated to
Grigory Alexandrovich.

“A hundred”.

I thought it meant a
hundred thousand.

Draw the numbers, Ivan
Ivanovich.

Let Borka Vishnyakov set you an
example.

Trust me, Your Majesty, not a
single ruble will go to waste.

But how will we move it?

We will, Your Majesty.

This will be a grand monument.

To last for centuries.

I do not like your constitution.

Open your mouth. Show your
tongue.

That tongue is unsettling. Turn
around.

Your pelvis in underdeveloped.

Whom did you get such thin skin
from, your mother or father?

I do not know.

I have never met my father.
And my mother is just like me.

Ah, never met your father, did
he die early?

My mother left him for a lover.

They are living out of wedlock.
I do not see her.

Any siblings?

No, I am an only daughter.

Oh, lick this.

Oh my, this is bad.

Spread your legs wider.

Wider, I said, wider, wider.

Oh dear.

What's wrong with me?

I can perform the operation that
you,
in your carelessness, are
requesting,

but I must warn you: you
will have no other children.

You won't be able to conceive.

And if you do, you will be
unable
to bear a child, or miscarry.

So my advice to you is: keep
your baby.

This, unfortunately, is not for
me to decide.

- For whom, then?
- Not for me.

Think about it, think about it.

If you want to go through, I
will be
waiting for you tomorrow at the
same time.

How much do I owe you?

Pinkus does not charge for
examining women.

Very well.

I will come tomorrow.

- You stupid hen.
- What did you say?

I said, “when”.

See, this great heap of odds and
ends.

I was asking myself. When
someone will sort through them.

What did you think I said?

What are you looking at!
Help the lady get dressed.

This is what you call hit and
miss.

Try again.

Pavel Petrovich. Alexei
Grigorievich.

Your Majesty.

Bowing? Good boy.

You are an adult now, and ready
for a serious relationship.

I have given some thought to
your future.

I am perfectly capable of
thinking
of my future all by myself.

I have decided to find you a
fitting bride.

I shall marry Sofya
Stepanovna and no one else.

You shall not marry Sofya
Stepanovna
and don't even dare to try.

All men have passing fancies
that
come to an end, sooner or later.

This is not a fancy, this
is the love of my life.

You are forgetting that you
are heir to the throne.

From this moment, the only heir.