other
so unexpectedly
as if we suddenly fell ill, that's why
I had not come to myself sooner.
Only last night I understood where I
was falling and I decided to stop.
I have told you that I love you
and you answered that you love me.
Don't you hear
how discordant it sounds?
Then you will hear it later,
when I am in the abyss.
Think carefully of what I am:
Is it possible for you to love me?
Do you love me?
"I love you," you said yesterday.
"No!" I answer firmly.
Your "I love you" is merely
an unconscious need of love.
I ought to have sternly said to you
at the beginning:
"The man before you is not the one
you have been dreaming of.
Wait, he will appear and then
you will be vexed with your mistake.
And this vexation will hurt me."
That is what I ought to have said
had nature given me a keener mind,
and had I been more sincere.
I say this, taking leave of you, as if
you're setting out on a long journey.
Goodbye, my angel,
make haste and fly away
as a bird flies from a branch
on which it had settled by mistake,
and do it as gaily and lightly,
flying from the branch
on which you had settled by chance.
- Olga...
- Go away! Why are you here?
You were right.
Anything might happen.
A man will appear,
whom I will be able to love.
But it will not be you. No, not you.
- Why?
- No. No.
I wrote this letter because
your happiness is very dear to me.
You have envied me my peaceful
happiness and hastened to disturb it.
But I'm sacrificing myself to it!
Why do you suppose I'm doing it?
For the same reason that you have now
hidden in the bushes
to see if I would cry
and how I would do it.
Had you honestly wished
what you have written,
you would have gone already
without seeing me and torturing me.
What an idea!
Oblomov was struck
by this suggestion.
He suddenly saw
that she was right.
It was not me you were sparing,
it's your ego, your pride.
Yesterday you wanted me to say I
loved you, today you wanted my tears.
Your love demands constant
sacrifices from me.
If it's not fed,
it will melt, wither!
Ilya Ilyich!
Oh, dear me!
Ilya Ilyich!
Ilya Ilyich, what are you doing here?
Olga! I must tell you!
What you said is true,
but I didn't realize it.
I was writing that letter...
and enjoyed myself.
Yes, I felt almost cheerful.
My heart was full, my mind active,
I was living.
I thought I was suffering,
but really I enjoyed it.
I enjoyed my situation,
my misery, my cigar.
Oh, Olga,
forgive me, for God's sake!
I wanted us to part,
at least I thought so.
But I won't bear our parting...
No, I won't.
I'm afraid.
Don't be afraid, it's just
a thunderstorm.
I'm afraid of you too.
There's a flutter at my heart.
Do you see someone flitting
in the darkness, my friend?
There is no one here.
Cover up my eyes with something.
Cover them close.
It's my nerves.
How your fingers are trembling.
Olga, you've got a fever.
Let us go home.
No, no, I'm better.
Olga... have pity on me... Olga...
My knees are trembling.
I'll get ill.
Dimitry, close the doors.
A thunderstorm is coming.
Yes, ma'am.
Olga, go to bed. It's late.
I'll go in a minute.
- Katya!
- Yes, ma'am?
Close the windows.
A thunderstorm is coming.
Yes, ma'am.
Ilya Ilyich!
What's the matter?
Why aren't you at home?
Zakhar and I ran throughout the park.
Such a horrible thunderstorm!
Here, I brought you a plaid.
Let's put it over you.
Cover yourself and let's go
close together.
I took a big umbrella for us.
Thank you. You go,
but I need to stay here.
Good heaven, why?
I've stolen a cup.
- May I sit with you?
- No, you had better go.
Go.
Alexeyev...
If I get married
and leave for Oblomovka for good...
why don't you go with us?
May I sit with you?
No, go, go.
You're awake, my little one.
- Are your eyes clear?
- Yes.
- And nothing hurts?
- No.
Let us pray.
Repeat after me.
O Lord Almighty,
be merciful, O Lord,
stretch forth thine all-honorable
hand on your servant
and