Original subtitles

Central Partnership

Central Partnership presents

Halt!

A Kolibri Studio production

Sergei KOLTAKOV

Get them out!

Sergei GOROBCHENKO

One, two, three, one, two, three!

Yelena LYADOVA

Anatoliy BELIY

Viktoria ISAKOVA

Alexander GOLUBEV

Pavel DEREVYANKO

In a Yury Moroz film

THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV

Based on the novel by F.M. Dostoyevsky

Screenplay: Alexander CHERVINSKY

Director of photography: Nikolai IVASIV R.G.C.

Halt!

Forward march!

Move!

Part Ten

It's hot here.

Take off your coat.

Are we alone? Can they overhear us in there?

No one can hear anything.

You've seen for yourself: there's a passage.

Listen, my good fellow,

what was that you babbled, as I was leaving the hospital,

that if I said nothing about your faculty of shamming fits,

you wouldn't tell the investigating lawyer all our conversation at the gate?

What do you mean by all?

This is what I meant then,

that you, knowing beforehand of this murder of your own parent,

left him to his fate.

That's what I promised not to tell the authorities.

Are you out of your mind?

I'm perfectly in possession of all my faculties.

Do you suppose I knew of the murder?

Speak, scoundrel!

It's a shame, sir, to strike a sick man.

So you thought then, that together with Dmitri I meant to kill my father?

No, you couldn't have done that.

And didn't want to.

But as for wanting someone else to do it that was just what you did want.

I didn't know what thoughts were in your mind then.

And so I stopped you then at the gate to sound you on that very point.

To sound what, what?

That very circumstance.

Whether you wanted your father to be murdered or not.

It was you murdered him.

You know of yourself, for a fact, that it wasn't I murdered him.

And I should have thought there was no need for a sensible man to speak of it again.

So, according to you, I had fixed on Dmitri to do it?

I was reckoning on him?

I thought you'd understand without wasting words.

And that being such a sensible man you wouldn't care to talk of it openly.

There's not a doubt you did reckon on Dmitri.

If I had reckoned on anyone then, it would have been on you.

I thought, too, for a minute, at the time

that you were reckoning on me as well.

You scoundrel!

So that's how you understood it!

What reason had you to consent?

Since you went to Moscow with no reason.

Simply at my word, it shows that you must have expected something from me.

If I don't beat you to death,

it's simply because I suspect you of that crime

and I'll drag you to justice.

To my thinking, you'd better keep quiet.

No one would believe you.

Only if you begin, I shall tell everything, too.

Do you think I am afraid of you now?

If the court doesn't believe all I've said to you just now,

the public will, and you will be ashamed.

That's as much as to say, 'It's always worth while speaking to a sensible man.'

You hit the mark, indeed.

And you'd better be sensible.

What a good thing it is I refused you and shall not be your wife.

You are not fit to be a husband.

If I were to marry you and give you a note to take to the man I loved after you,

you'd take it, right?

Yes.

And I don't respect you.

If I respected you, I shouldn't talk to you without shame, should I?

No.

But do you believe that I am not ashamed with you?

No, I don't believe it.

Tell me, why did you send for me today?

I wanted to tell you of a longing I have.

I should like someone to torture me.

Marry me and then torture me, deceive me and go away.

I don't want to be happy.

You are in love with disorder?

Yes, I want disorder.

I keep wanting to set fire to the house.

- You don't believe me? - I believe you.

There are children of twelve years old, who have a longing to set fire to something.

And they do set things on fire.

It's a sort of disease.

I have read that at Easter the Jews steal a child and kill it. Is it true?

I don't know.

I have read that they kill them.

I have read about a Jew, who took a child of four years old

and cut off the fingers from both hands, and then crucified him on the wall.

And he said at trial that he stood admiring it.

That's nice!

Nice?

Nice.

I imagine that it was I who crucified him.

He would hang there moaning and I would sit opposite him eating pineapple compote.

I am fond of pineapple compote. Do you like it?

When I read about that, in the morning I wrote a letter to a certain person

begging him to come. And he did come.

And I told him all about the child and the pineapple compote.

And said that it was nice.

He laughed and said it really was nice.

Then he got up and went away.

He didn't believe me. He despised me.

That man is very ill now, Lise.

He does not believe anyone. If he doesn't believe in people, he does despise them.

Me too?

You, too.

That's good.

The child with fingers cut off is nice too.

And to be despised is nice.

I don't want to live, because I loathe everything! I loathe everything.

Alyosha, why don't you love me?

I do love you!

And when I die, will you weep over me?

Yes.

You will?

Thank you.

Everyone else may trample me under foot, for I don't love anyone.

Do you hear, not anyone!

I hate everyone.

Now go to your brother. Go, go, go!

Wait!

Yes, yes, give it to him, to Ivan Fyodorovitch.

Give it to him at once, or I'll poison myself!

That's why I sent for you.

I am a wretch, wretch, wretch!

Dmitri killed him, but there is no a mathematical proof of it.

If it's not Dmitri, but Smerdyakov then...

Calm down.

What then?

Then, I am the murderer, too.

What's wrong with you, Ivan?

You could not foresee that happening.

Did you visit the doctor today?

You have nothing to blame you for.

If they prove that the footman murdered him, I can blame myself.

Smerdyakov didn't murder him.

Do you need a mathematical proof?

Here it is.

What is it?

This is a letter.

It was written by Dmitri on that very day when that woman insulted me.

He wrote it when he was drunk in the tavern.

Look, it is written on some sort of bill!

Fatal Katya, tomorrow I will get the money and repay your three thousand

and farewell, my love.

Tomorrow I shall try and get it from everyone,

and if I can't borrow it, I give you my word of honour

I shall go to my father and break his skull.

And take the money from under the pillow.

Forgive me, for I love another woman.

I will murder my father, and will ruin myself

to hold my ground, rather than endure my pride.

Farewell. I shall tear three thousand from him and fling it to you.

I kiss your feet. D. Karamazov.

Didn't you show it to anyone?

No.

This is an evidence against him.

But this is that 'mathematical proof' you were looking for, isn't it?

You hate him so much.

Yes, I do hate him.

I hate him.

Not because of your 'returns.'

I hate him more every day.

And you are not the reason.

The reason is that he killed his father.

I will not leave him anyway. Do you hear me?

I will never leave him.

Ah, it's you.

You are going to her?

I don't advise you to.

Ivan Fyodorovitch, will you come back for just a minute?

I won't stay more than a minute.

Alexey Fyodorovitch, have you come from Dmitri?

Yes, I have been with him.

What did he ask you to tell me?

That you'd say nothing at the trial of what passed between you at the beginning.

He asks me to spare - whom? Him or myself?

Both yourself and him.

Glad to hear it.

You don't know me yet, Alexey Fyodorovitch.

Perhaps you'll want to trample me under foot after my examination tomorrow.

You will give your evidence honorably, that's all that's wanted.

Women are often dishonorable.

But did he do it? Is he the murderer?

But you know that.

No.

It was you, you who persuaded me that he murdered his father.

It's only you I believed.

Well, that's enough, I am going.

Follow him! He's mad! Don't you know that he's mad?

The doctor told me so. Go, run after him.

Don't leave him alone.

Ivan.

What do you want?

She is right that you are ill.

And do you know, Alexey Fyodorovitch, how people do go out of their minds?

No, I don't. I suppose there are all kinds of insanity.

And can one observe that one's going mad oneself?

I think no.

I have a letter for you.

Ah, from her. She's not sixteen yet, and already offering herself.

How do you mean, offering herself?

As wanton women offer themselves.

Ivan, how can you?

I couldn't hide her letter from you.

She is a child.

You are insulting a child!

If she is a child, I am not her nurse.

Be quiet, Alexey. I am not even thinking about it.

She will be praying all night now to the Mother of God

to show her how to act to-morrow at the trial.

Whether she's to save Mitya or ruin him.

She loves you, brother.

Perhaps, but I am not very keen on her.

Why did you give her hope?

Because it's all a lie.

Lie upon lie!

If I break off with her now,

she will avenge herself on me by ruining that scoundrel tomorrow at the trial.

For she hates him and knows she hates him.

As long as I don't break off with her, she won't ruin that monster,

knowing how I want to get him out of trouble.

But how can she ruin?

She's got a document that proves that he did murder our father.

There can't be such a document! Because he's not the murderer.

Who is it then?

You know who.

You mean the myth about that crazy idiot, the epileptic, Smerdyakov?

You know who.

Who?

I only know one thing, it wasn't you killed father.

Not you.

What do you mean by 'not you'?

It was not you killed father!

I know I didn't. Are you raving?

You've told yourself several times that you are the murderer.

When did I say so?

I was in Moscow. When have I said so?

You've said so to yourself many times, when you've been alone.

But you didn't do it. Do you hear?

It was not you!

Brother, you'll believe my word.

I tell you once and for all, it's not you.

God has sent me to tell you so.

Alexey Fyodorovitch, I can't endure messengers from God.

Prophets especially.

I break off all relations with you from this moment.

Pavel Fyodorovitch is ill now. He seems not himself.

Why, does he make a row?

Quite the contrary, he's very quiet.

I only came with one question.

Has the young lady, Katerina Ivanovna, been with you?

I won't go without an answer.

You seem very ill yourself. Your face is sunken.

Never mind my health, tell me what I ask you.

Was she here, and did she ask about me?

Are you so worried?

I say, how your hands are trembling!

Why are your fingers moving like that?

Go home, you did not murder him.

I know it was not I.

Do you?

What do you want to say? Tell me everything, you viper!

Well, it was you who murdered him, if that's it.

You mean my going away. What you talked about last time?

Aren't you tired of it?

Here we are face to face.

What's the use of going on keeping up a farce to each other?

Are you still trying to throw it all on me?

You murdered him.

You are the real murderer.

I was only your faithful servant.

And it was following your words I did it.

Did it?

Why, did you murder him?

Are you frightened?

It's a lie that you killed him!

You are mad, or teasing me again!

- Wait a minute. - He's mad!

Mad!

Here.

What is it?

Three thousand roubles.

You need not count them. They are all here.

Take them.

Can you really not have known till now?

No, I did not know.

I kept thinking of Dmitri.

Did you kill him with my brother's help or without?

It was only with your help.

I killed him with you.

And Dmitri Fyodorovitch is quite innocent.

My head aches.

Why do I keep on trembling?

You were bold enough then.

You said 'everything was lawful,'

and how frightened you are now.

Speak, speak how was it?

How it was done?

In a most natural way, following your very words.

Dmitri won't kill my father.

He might have killed him now like the frantic, savage fool he is,

but he won't steal.

If he's in very great need of money?

And besides that, if Agrafena Alexandrovna doesn't want your brother.

If she wants Fyodor Pavlovitch to marry her?

Than neither Dmitri Fyodorovitch nor yourself and Alexey Fyodorovitch,

would have anything after the master's death, not a rouble.

But if your father were to die now, there'd be some forty thousand for sure.

Dmitri Fyodorovitch knows all that very well.

And who can keep him?

Grigory Vassilyevitch for example uses balsam to treat his lumbago.

And he sleeps soundly after that treatment.

Then why do you advise me to go to Tchermashnya?

If I go away, you see what will happen here.

Precisely so.

That will happen once you leave it.

You see, I am going to Moscow.

It's a true saying then, that 'it's always worth while speaking to a clever man.

I am a scoundrel.

You'd gone away, then I fell into the cellar.

In a sham.

A sham, naturally.

I went quietly down the steps, laid down quietly, and gave a scream.

And were you shamming afterwards in the hospital?

No, next day, in the morning, I had a real attack.

And a more violent one than I've had for years.

And what was that night?

At night I moaned quietly.

I kept expecting Dmitri Fyodorovitch to come.

Expecting him? To come to you?

Not to me. To father.

I expected him to kill Fyodor Pavlovitch.

Wait. If he had killed him,

He would have taken the money.

What would you have got by it afterwards?

But he would never have found the money.

It is now everyone believed he kept it under the pillow.

And the envelope laid, in the corner behind the ikons.

I am getting mixed. So you only took the money?

And it was Dmitri who killed him?

No.

I might as well have told you now that he was the murderer.

But I don't want to.

Because I want to prove to your face.

To prove what?

That you are the only real murderer.

And I am not the real murderer, though I did kill him.

You are the rightful murderer.

Why?

Why me?

Why me? Oh, God!

Oh, God!

It is later. Later. Go on.

Tell me what happened that night.

What more is there to tell!

I lay there and hear Grigory Vassilyevitch had suddenly got up and came out.

And he suddenly gave a scream.

And then all was silence.

Darkness.

I got up. My heart beating.

I saw there was no Grigory Vassilyevitch in the house.

And I determined on the spot to make an end of it.

Where is she?

- Where is Grusha? - She is over there.

Call to her yourself from the study.

Where is she?

There, under the window.

How is it you don't see her?

Where is she? I don't see her.

She was frightened at the noise.

Call to her!

I snatched up that paper-weight from his table.

I swung it and hit him on the top of the skull.

I hit him again and a third time.

I went back to my bed, and thought,

'If Grigory Vassilyevitch is not killed

he'll bear witness that Dmitri Fyodorovitch has been here.

But what if he has been killed?'

Then I began groaning, so as to wake Marfa.

What about the door?

If he only opened the door to you, how could Grigory have seen it open before?

As for that door and, that's only his fancy.

It's just our luck he took that notion into his head,

for they can't fail to convict Dmitri Fyodorovitch after that.

Well, it was the devil helped you!

I didn't urge you on at all. No, I didn't urge you on!

Perhaps I really had a secret desire for my father's death.

But I didn't urge you.

I will say that tomorrow at the trial.

Everything. By myself.

But we'll make our appearance together.

You must confess.

And if you won't go, I'll go alone.

There'll be nothing of the sort.

You won't go.

You'll be too much ashamed.

You have not a single proof.

And what about the money?

They'll say you'd brought your money.

Why do you give it to me

if you committed the murder for the sake of it?

I did have an idea,

for if there's no everlasting God,

of beginning a new life with that money

in Moscow or, better still, abroad.

And what now?

I suppose, you believe in God, since you are giving back the money?

No.

- And you... - What?

You used to say yourself that everything was lawful

so now you even want to go and give evidence against yourself.

Only you won't go!

The only reason I haven't killed you is that I need you for tomorrow.

Well, kill me.

Kill me now.

You won't dare do that.

You won't dare to do anything.

You, who used to be so bold!

Take the money.

- I will show it tomorrow. - Wait.

Show me it again.

Good-bye!

Till tomorrow!

'I destroy my life of my own will and desire, so as to throw no blame on anyone.'

THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV

End of Part Ten