Drink with me, my love
For there's fire in the sky
And there's ice on the ground
Either way, my soul will die
Whoa
The doctors warned me
That with my corpulence
Corpulence!
Vodka and wine are dangerous for me
But I drink a great deal
Only quite at ease
After pouring several glasses mechanically
Into my large mouth
Then I feel
A pleasant warmth in my body
A sentimental attachment to my fellow man
Keep drinking old man
Keep drinking old man
Drink the whole night through
Keep drinking old man
Keep drinking old man
Drink the whole night through
Keep drinking old man
Natasha, natasha
Her arms, her shoulders, her neck, her feet
The air of a connoisseur
I will make love to her
Better not, monsieur
She's first rate, but nothing but trouble
Better wait till she's married
Anatole is a married man
A fact known only to his intimates
A polish landowner of some small means
Had forced him to marry his daughter
Nevermind about that now
It doesn't matter
I don't give a damn
Just as a duck is made to swim in water
God has made me as I am
All I care for is gaiety and women
And there's no dishonor in that
As long as there's money and vodka
I'll keep a feather in my hat
Whoa
I used to love
I used to love
I used to be better
Keep drinking old man
Drink, drink, drink
God to think I married a man like you
Don't speak to me, wife
There is something inside me
Dolokhov, pour me another
Something terrible and monstrous
Here's to the health of married women
And a smile lurks at the corner of my mouth
Here's to the health of married women
And their lovers!
Here's to the health of married women
Here's to the health of married women
And their lovers!
Here's to the health of married women
Here's to the health of married women
And their lovers!
How dare you touch her?
You can't love her
Enough!
You bully, you scoundrel
I challenge you
Oh, a duel?
Yes, this is what I like
He will kill you, stupid husband
So I shall be killed
What is it to you?
Anatole, my guns
Oh, this is horribly stupid
Well, let's begin
This is child's play
As the adversaries have refused a reconciliation
We shall please proceed with the duel
Ready your pistols
And on the count of tri
Begin to advance
Rahz! Dva! Tri!
Pierre, hold your fire
Pierre, hold your fire
Pierre, not yet!
(Pierre shoots dolokhov)
No!
Shot by a fool!
No, wait, I didn't mean –
Quiet, old man!
My turn
My turn
Pierre, stand back!
(Hélène screams)
Missed, missed
Oh my mother, my angel
My adoréd angel mother
Take him away
The sun is rising
The duel is at an end
And pierre bezukhov is the winner
Winner
You are a fool
Well, sweet sister
You certainly bring out the beast in men
What can I say?
It's a gift
How I adore you
Will you ask natasha to the ball tonight?
Of course, dear brother
Come on, old man
Let's get you home
In a moment
Sleep it off
And be happy
We live to love another day