aside.
Do you know, Zosya, every man
is subject to the pressure...
...of a column of atmosphere
that weights 214 kilos.
What a lugubrious lover!
Indeed, I'm a typical Eugene Onegin,..
...and, at the same time,
a knight deprived of his heritage.
A fine knight you are!
Don't be angry, Zosya.
Consider the column of atmosphere!
It seems to me that it presses upon me
with greater force then on other citizens.
This is because I love you.
And besides,
I am not a member of a trade union.
That's another reason.
Also it's because you lie
more than other citizens!
That is not a lie. It is a law of physics.
And yet, perhaps there really is no column,..
...and all this is only my imagination.
I am 33 years old.
The age of Jesus Christ.
But what have I done until now?
I have created no religion.
I have wasted my disciples.
I have not brought the dead Panikovsky to life,
and only you...
Well, good-by. I'm going to the restaurant.
I'm also going to dine. I'll eat some shchi
- The restaurant is only for students.
- Well, then I'll just sit.
- Let me introduce you.
- Pericles. Femidi, Pericles.
Bender-Zadunaisky.
What! Are you also Zadunaisky?
You, too, are no longer Sinitskaya.
Judging by the socks...
I am Sinitskaya-Femidi.
For 25 days already.
"Silver" wedding anniversary.
I like your husband.
I like him myself.
It happens sometimes
that youth does not pass...
...as you have imagined
in your tender years...
...and life proves to be coarse
and low like a bass key.
In this sailor's borshch
swim the remains of a shipwreck.
What are you line of work?
I'm secretary of the art-collective
of railroad painters.
A representative of a collective.
I might have expected that.
However I shall no longer interfere
with the proper secretion of you gastric juices,..
...which are indispensable to health.
The girl was stolen!
Right out of the stall!
The representative of the collective...
...stole from the private millionaire...
Here is another Apostle Paul for you!
Accursed Seventh Day Adventist!
Goody-goody, son of a bitch!
I shall hang myself.
Such a Tolstoian deserves to be killed.
I only...to inquire. My mother!.. Uncle!
My I have my parcel back. Just for a minute.
Comrade, we never give parcels back.
What! Have you sent it already?
I brought it only an hour ago.
We never give parcels back.
But it is my parcel. Do you understand?
I sent it, and I want to take it back.
You see, I forgot to put in a jar of preserves.
Quinces!
My uncle will be frightfully disappointed.
We never give parcels back. Comrade.
- It won't hurt your uncle any.
- But you don't know my uncle!
"My uncle is so well respected" [A.Pushkin]
I'm a poor student.
Impoverished childhood in Kremenchug!
The uncle weaned me... using a woman.
I ask you as a public-spirited citizen!
Where  can I find it now?
Over there.
There are 3 tones of parcels over there.
My uncle!
He will not survive this.
OK. We are not animals, not leopards.
- Never do it again!
- Upon my my word of honor as a student!
Enough of psychological excesses!
Enough of suffering and self-torture!
It's high time to begin
a hard-working bourgeois life!
To Rio de Janeiro.
Epilogue.
Throughout the winter the great schemer
had made his preparations...
He had bought US dollars with their portraits
of white-wigged presidents...
gold watches...
cigarette cases...
wedding rings...
diamonds...
and other precious articles.
His fur coat weighed a ton.
He was opressed by gold -
the platter, the cross, the bracelets.
His back itched under the watches.
This remarkable load...
...was to secure an easy,
happy-go-lucky life...
for the commander
on the shores of the warm ocean.
In Rio de Janeiro.
I greet you, seigneurs!
Bonjour, my friends!
I greet you as representatives...
But, but! Hands off!
Souvenirs from Paris!
They'll put color
into your drab life on the border!
Bracelet!
I shall