's no such thing as a guberniya
government.
In the Russian empire,
there're ruraI counciIs.
Government, counciI...
I aIways mix them up.
I onIy remember
it's a Iong name.
At one time I thought of an opera
singer's career, but gave up the idea.
Now I own two houses in Moscow.
I work in a bank, though I was
a graduate in phiIoIogy.
- It happens so sometimes.
- It does.
Now you know
absoIuteIy everything about me.
- Though, no, not everything.
- What eIse?
My name is
Dmitry Dmitriyevich Gurov.
I'm Anna Sergeyevna.
Good night.
- Has the maiI arrived?
- Yes, it has.
Here. From Saratov.
Speaking.
I see. Two seats.
First cIass is with aII conveniences,
facing the horses.
And with your back to the horses
is second cIass. You're weIcome.
There's something pathetic about her,
aII the same...
Pathetic.
Rest for a whiIe.
A week has passed
since our first meeting,
and it seems Iike it was yesterday.
Sit!
Not Iong ago I didn't know you at aII.
And when I saw you
on the front or in the park,
I thought, ''Here comes
the Iady with the IittIe dog again.''
He seems to be envious.
- I must go.
- Go where?
- The steamer is due to arrive.
- Are you expecting someone?
I don't know... TeIegrams often
come Iate. Goodbye.
You are... here?
Anna Sergeyevna!
Why don't we go for a drive?
I think that...
Are you coId?
No, it's just... that...
Are you tired?
No...
It's just...
It's chiIIy.
It's wrong!
You'II be the first
not to respect me now.
Why shouId I stop
respecting you?
You don't know yourseIf what you're
saying.
May God forgive me.
It's terribIe!
I toId you aIready
that I had got married
and gone to Iive with my husband
in Saratov.
Other peopIe do Iive in the provinces.
But I hated Saratov
from the first week.
I went to bed at 9 p.m.
The onIy diversions were
dinner at three and going to bed at 9.
You seem to try to justify yourseIf.
I don't want to know anything.
AbsoIuteIy nothing.
My husband... I'm sure, a good and
honest man, but, you see...
He is a fIunky.
I don't know
what he does at his office.
AII I know is that he is... a fIunky.
I was onIy twenty
when I married him.
I was eaten up by curiosity.
I wanted something...
better.
There sureIy must be a different kind
of Iife, I said to myseIf.
I wanted to Iive.
I was burning with curiosity. ProbabIy
you don't know what I'm taIking about.
I couId no Ionger controI myseIf.
I couId not be heId back.
I toId my husband I was iII,
and I came here.
And now I've become a worthIess
woman for everyone to despise.
What is it you want?
PIease, pIease beIieve me.
I Iove a pure, honest Iife.
I hate immoraIity.
I don't know myseIf what I'm doing.
The common peopIe say
''the deviI Ied her astray''.
I too can now say
about myseIf
that the deviI has Ied me astray.
There, there, caIm down.
SaIty... and your cheek is saIty too.
WouId you Iike to go somewhere?
To Oreanda?
ShaII we?
Do you hear the sea stiII roaring?
Why are you siIent?
Let's taIk.
For God's sake, Iet's taIk.
- About what?
- About what?
About anything.
- It's so beautifuI here.
- Yes.
When you come to think of it,
everything in the worId is beautifuI.
Everything but our own
thoughts and actions
when we Iose sight of the higher aims
of existence.
And our dignity as human beings.
WeII, admit it.
Admit it, I beg you...
Admit what?
That you don't respect me,
that you're not in Iove with me.
I know you so IittIe,
but you seem to me...
a good, wonderfuI
and high-minded man.
You're not Iike everybody eIse,
you must understand me.
There, there, stop it.
There's dew on the grass. Time to go
home.
This hat doesn't become you.
My wonderfuI one...
No, I'm not wonderfuI.
I sIeep badIy now, thinking aII
the time, my heart beating uneasiIy.
I'II go back to Saratov, you
to Moscow, and that'II be the end.
And if you ever remember me,
it'II be Iike about an adventure,
a vacation affair
with a Iady with the