Original subtitles

SUPPORTED BY THE MINISTRY OF CULTURE OF THE RUSSIAN FEDERATION

RUSSIA 1

The war cannot be stopped. And this war will destroy us.

We won't stand against them we will die.

Nikita Ivanovich, I know you are trying to make me see something. But see what?!

It's up to you, whether the throne gets secured or crumbles once and for all.

And?!

Do not oppose the marriage of the Empress and Count Orlov.

God preserve you, Nikita Ivanovich,

you used to say that Russia cannot be ruled by a Mrs. Orlova.

You were against the wedding, talked about conspiracies.

Yes, I did say that.

I did say that, and opposed it, and it's sheer luck.

The empress is merciful and does not cut people's tongues off.

An Orlov instead of a Romanov as an Emperor.

And two heirs from two different men...

Nikita Ivanovich, this will not secure the throne.

And what if there are more children in the future?!

If a son is conceived in a lawful marriage, he will be an heir to the throne,

equal to Pavel Petrovich and Alexei Grigorievich.

Three heirs!

You know, there's this good bit of folk wisdom:

no point counting what you'll never have.

Remind me what was that Count Orlov promised to the members of the Synod.

To return the land back to the monasteries.

The land can never be returned now.

I will try to convince the empress to solemnly swear not to shut down any monasteries again.

Just two days ago, she shut down the monastery in Suzdal and turned it into a prison.

- But it was a prison! - A monastery prison!

What difference does it make?! Now it will be a prison for those who committed high treason.

Your Eminence, this is not what we should be talking about,

let us forget about our disagreements.

But what about the conspiracy, Nikita Ivanovich?

What conspiracy? Dear God!

There was no conspiracy.

Just a simple wish to give one's life for the sake of Russia's prosperity.

Read this.

“Report on Count Orlov's Performance of His Duties and Leisure”.

So, tell me the news.

There is no news. I am not with child.

You are not trying.

But he is, tirelessly.

He just confessed his love for me again this morning.

I did ask you not to discuss anything of substance with Pavel Petrovich.

I didn't say a thing, just asked him to let me sleep.

Your Majesty, he may fall in love for real.

Just two more weeks will be enough.

He may start pursuing me.

We'll tell him that you caught consumption,

or you can go abroad,

or I can exile you to a convent.

Don't worry, not forever.

Don't read this, better burn it.

Pavel Petrovich...

Pavel Petrovich, my sweet tormentor, I beg you.

- It will be morning soon. Pease leave me. - Sofya Stepanovna, I don't want to sleep.

And I do, Pavel Petrovich, I do want to sleep, very, very much.

I don't feel anything, don't want anything.

When you awake I will be all yours. But now, sleep, sleep, sleeeeeep!

Sleep!

- Sofya Stepanovna... - God, no!

- Sofya Stepanovna... - This is impossible...

Sofya Stepanovna..., where are you going?

Well, well, well.

I am in luck. I am!

I'll place twelve hundred.

- Winning card! - Yes!

Pavel Petrovich, I can't take it.

I am bad at pretending. Please let me go to my room.

I love you.

This is a torture. You are my cruel executioner.

Please stay, I will guard your sleep, please.

I promise I won't touch you.

- Promise? - Promise.

Your Highness, please excuse me, but Count Panin is here to see you.

What of it? I am not seeing anyone. We are going to sleep.

The Count is your mentor and is free to see you whenever he wants.

Shall I get you dressed?

You have already missed your breakfast and first lesson.

- I will leave. - Please stay.

It your father or your older brother had come here, then...

I don't have a father, or an older brother.

And I don't need a mentor, I am a grown man.

- Sofya Stepanovna, tell him. - Oh, yes.

- Your Highness. - Your Excellency.

- Sofya Stepanovna. - Yes, Nikita Ivanovich, good morning.

Well then, get up, quick now.

We have games and entertainment in our schedule, all in the outdoors.

Sofya Stepanovna, do you wish to go outdoors?

Oh, no. I didn't get any sleep tonight. Too much entertainment.

This entertainment is of a different sort. And now hurry up, to a horseback ride.

And then, if you want, you can do some hunting.

Would you fancy shooting some boars in the oat fields?

Nikita Ivanovich, was it the empress's idea or yours to tyrannize me so?

The empress insists that you do not sit idly here.

The heir to the throne must be robust in body and in spirit.

I don't believe you.

The empress has always wanted her heir to be a Harlequin.

Who would spend all his time in bed with pretty women.

Enough chatter. Do get dressed.

Your Majesty.

I made special note of his visits to madam Lavinia's salon.

What was he doing there? Love affairs?

- No, by no means. - But what else can one do there?

He spent days on end there, and nights too.

I do not understand when he slept.

- Or did he sleep in there? - No.

And what about cards, billiards?

Did he gamble? That is unlike him.

Grigory Grigorievich played an occasional game of faro and pyramid.

But... he got medical treatment there and... he still does.

He has fallen seriously ill, but does not wish to trouble you.

Ill with what?

A certain medicus by the name of Pinkus bled him a little,

applied leeches, and performed some other manipulations.

- Which ones, Adam Vasilievich? - That I do not know, Your Majesty.

I asked around among the servants. But you know me, I am a mild-mannered man...

Who is that medicus?

From Ligovsky Prospekt, cheap, charges twenty kopeck per hour.

Thank you.

Pass the report on to Mr. Sheshkovsky, it is now his job to deal with this.

Your Majesty.

The day is sunny and warm, and you are in here.

Nobody has cancelled the walk.

You brother intends to go hunting, shooting boars.

Would you like to come with him?

Imagine, the sun sets, and the boars come out into the field.

The oats have been left behind on purpose.

You and your brother are sitting high up on a tree stand.

With rifles in your hands. It's cold and damp.

You cannot move, or you scare them off.

And they keep coming, they come, they dig, giant hogs, and sows,

and tiny piglets, and they go oink-oink.

Would be a pity to shoot them, right?

But you are not obliged to shoot them.

You can just sit there, and look, and watch, would you like that?

I do not understand. Yes or no?

Yes.

Yes, that's right!

Come here.

What a good boy you are, Alexei Grigorievich.

How I wish I had a son like you.

This spring I decided to get married.

I wanted to start a family.

Dreamed up all sort of things, and a son too.

And then my bride died.

That's life.

I have it all: money, and glory, and a court position, and power.

But what's the point of it all?

After that.

Now go.

Go, get yourself ready.

Mister Pinkus.

You were asked a question: what is Count Orlov's sickness.

Are we speaking of Count Grigory Grigorievich Orlov?

Naturally.

If I were you, I would not ask about his sickness,

which one may live with quite well, depriving oneself only of sinful pleasures,

while sickness is something that can bring both minor

inconveniences and significant suffering,

the loss of one's abilities and even death.

Do not forget where you are, Mr. Pinkus.

You do not forget about the trust that exists between a practicing medicus

and his patient, and the Hippocratic Oath.

It has been observed for more than 2000 years, this oath.

And it is not to me, Pinkus the Medicus,

20 kopeck per hour, outpatient visits, to betray it.

I would ask you to keep me company, I have some business in the dungeon.

The Hippocratic Oath seems to have regrettably slipped my mind,

so you can remind me on the way.

You do remember it by heart, do you not?

- Like Pater Noster. - Here, if you please.

Blessed be the Almighty God,

Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, blessed for all eternity.

- I am not lying. - Come.

Yes, yes, I am listening.

Into whatsoever house I enter,

I will enter to help the sick, and I will abstain from all

intentional wrong-doing and harm.

Especially...

...from abusing the bodies of man or woman.

...I will follow this written c-covenant and written o-obligation honestly,

according to my ability and re-reasoning.

I will remain in my life and my art of my profession...

- Do come through. - As well as outside my p-profession...

Sit, Pinkus. Sit.

Who is that?

- Suspected of killing a Pole. - Confession?

Gave one, Your Worship, and named the murder weapon too,

but couldn't name the place.

Cut it already, will you?

Nah, if I cut ropes every time, I'll soon run out.

- Are you finished, Pinkus? - Yes.

Are you quite satisfied or...

C-can we continue upstairs?

Let us leave, Mr. Pinkus, follow me.

I treated His Excellency for male impotence.

Treated him for a long time, tried out plenty remedies.

And I cured him!

Is that even possible?

My test showed that His Excellency once again has the fire of youth.

Ready to spar at any time of day and night.

- Your test? - A natural experiment.

We brought him a girl, and the Count claimed her right there, with no prelude.

Paid me double, with no trickery, His Excellency did.

Watch your tongue, Pinkus.

My apologies.

It's just that there are so many swindlers these days!

Describe your course of treatment.

Cut the flaps, cauterized with alums, made a special mixture,

and the patient followed the full medication regimen.

Your Worship, if you have a similar mishap, I can help.

But here, you will have to choose, one or the other.

Now many men choose the burden of passion.

Shall I give you the names?

It is my understanding that Count Orlov will never become a father again.

Never! Out of the question!

But bearing in mind that we are all mortal, that our time here is short,

the choice is quite obvious.

What else did you treat the Count for?

He did not complain of anything. And I did not ask him.

The medical science knows for a fact that the internal organs are not interlinked,

and if you have a healthy liver, it doesn't stop you from dying of pneumonia!

Any co-conspirators?

- I work alone. - Shall I find them?

That would surprise me.

Sign this.

It is impossible to restore the child-bearing function after a resection,

but for a complete picture, I would need to conduct an examination.

Is it true that such treatment causes a wild surge of lust?

Yes, Your Majesty. But not for long, just briefly.

Otherwise every man, once reaching maturity, would have

preferred to trade the ability to prolong his bloodline

for a chance to relish in joys of the flesh until his very deathbed.

But, praise the Lord, the medical science is impotent when faced with male impotence.

The medicus that maimed Grigory Grigorievich is a charlatan.

Do not disturb Her Majesty, she wishes to be alone.

Took gifts, that I did, Your Worship.

I keep quiet easily.

My mom and dad did not approve of blabbering, if some girl chattered too much,

they'd say “she goes rattling like a pea bucket”.

Fyokla, get to the point.

I took gifts twice, a ruble each.

And a lot of good they did me.

Went to Sytny Market, I did, to buy two shirts for my Antip...

I do not care!

His Excellency was close to dying twice,

but God did not claim him, allowed him to live some more,

but what for, he alone know sand never will,

even if you take me to the dungeon and burn me with hot irons.

I do not understand, Agniya, who knows?

Our Almighty Lord.

And who did you think it was?

It happens that Excellency doesn't feel right.

his eyes roll up, and his tongue sort of fall back.

And then I go - plop! Right under his nose!

Would you like a sniff? Creeps right to your marrow!

He took your pawn.

I am claiming my harvest!

Yes?

You have guests, Your Highness.

I am not seeing anyone.

I am afraid they'll force their way in.

- Pavel Petrovich! - My friends!

We've come to see you!

Here to say goodbye, I am off to sea.

I will be in charge of a packet boat “Bystriy”.

- “Bystriy”? - That's what it's called.

Two masts, twelve cannons, crew of fifty.

And I'll serve in the infantry!

I can't believe that they entrusted you with a navy ship!

I did not expect that myself. My father pulled some strings.

Now it's another victory or bullet in the head.

Sofya Stepanovna, please excuse me.

I assume you've met my friends, but I haven't introduced you.

This is hardly the right time, Pavel Petrovich.

You can't have so little tact, can you?

Yes, the circumstances are hardly fitting.

As they say in the navy, the dispositions couldn't be worse.

Oh, stop it now!

I would ask all of you to leave, I need to get dressed.

What a bothersome whim, bursting into someone's bedroom!

Alexei Grigorievich, I almost forgot!

I have a gift for you: a boatswain's whistle.

Thank you. You are a real friend, Andrei Kirillovich.

Come!

We are having a wonderful time, you and me together.

A wonderful time.

Take it down!

Adam Vasilievich...

Am I, once again, unaware of something that everyone else knows?

Nikita Ivanovich, I prefer not to concern myself with idle questions.

The empress ordered to take it down.

But you yourself do understand what for?

Of course.

No.

Sofya Stepanovna, allow me to write to you.

I barely know you. Correspondence is for people who know each other.

Pyotr Kirillovich Razumovsky, lieutenant of the Ladozhsky Infantry Regiment.

Sofya Stepanovna, married name Chertoryzhskaya,

Her Majesty's lady in waiting.

As I see, we have nothing more to talk about.

In your company, I like being silent, too.

Kindly name the reason for this correspondence.

I have a troop in my command and need to head off to my garrison.

And that is the reason, Pyotr Kirillovich?

Well, officers are supposed to court ladies.

And you can't do that without correspondence.

That is a rather frank explanation.

Very well, I permit you to write me a letter.

But I will not reply.

You misunderstand. Or rather, I explained it in a wrong way.

Try again.

Pavel Petrovich is not going to marry you.

Please do not be angry and let me finish!

He is not going to marry you, but I am.

You may find it hard to believe now, but this is the way it shall be.

I do not insist on change, Your Eminence.

Your Majesty.

I will keep fighting for approval during the Synod meeting.

I do not see any obstacles in the way of your marriage with Count Orlov.

Now is not the time.

Russia is about to enter a war with a cruel and powerful adversary.

Please go to the royal place of prayer, Your Majesty.

Is it that important where I stand?

What will happen to monasteries and monastery land?

I hope that the church will render aid to the army and navy of its own free will.

You know why Peter the Great resorted to extreme measures

and molded cannons out of church bells. I oppose extreme measures.

It is devastating to see monasteries shut down.

It pains our church.

We are asking you to find a solution. That is of utmost importance now.

What are you saying!

That is of utmost importance?!

That is pain?!

It is embarrassing to listen to you.

I am asking you to call the Synod together and voice your opinion

on the atrocities against the serfs.

It is the church's duty to protect the serfs and expose the crimes of the land owners.

Up to excommunication.

I am still waiting

for the Synod to deny service to those who harbor murderers and abusers.

The senior priest of the Troitsk church must be thrown to the pit!

There is a war coming, and our people are all whipped.

They get skinned alive for daring to complain.

Do your really think the people will rise up in defense of the whips

and abusive masters?

Will the monstrous Saltykova be executed?

She will be punished as law demands.

Do you allow her name to be mentioned in sermons?

No.

Starting for the day when the decree is announced,

she is to be called nothing but Saltychikha.

The way she was called by the serfs that she killed and mutilated.

And what about the wedding, Your Majesty?

Do you wish to postpone it?

Forget the wedding.

Hear ye, hear ye!

Ekaterina the Second, by the grace of God, Empress and autocrat of all Russian, decrees!

That Darya Nikolaevna Saltykova, nee Ivanova,

has been found guilty of torturing and murdering more than a hundred serfs.

This killer and tormentor shall hereby be stripped of her noble rank,

shall be prohibited to be referred to by her father's or husband's name...

and shall be confined prison without light or human company!

Light is allowed only while eating,

and speaking is allowed only to the Guard Commander.

Are you certain or just suspecting?

I am certain.

Could there have been a mistake?

I am with child.

Fathered by Pavel Petrovich?

By your son.

- Does he know? - No.

Keep it quiet.

He won't find out.

No, of course, this is a joyous occasion.

I am finally confident about the Grand Prince's future.

Time to find him a bride.

You seem unhappy?

This is my first.

I have been with many men, but not like this.

What do you know the Romanov dynasty finally produces

a man capable of bearing offspring from a young age?

I'll pick him a German wife with broad hips.

For making a lot of little boys and girls.

Let them give me grandchildren.

Pavel Petrovich will never become a decent emperor.

But I will make emperors out of my grandchildren yet.

As, God knows, I have no intention of dying.

And what about me?

I am even feeling hungry all of a sudden.

Seven to eight weeks.

You will have to leave Pavel Petrovich.

I want to end it, too. I'm too ashamed.

- I never expected this. - No need to torture yourself.

I have never kept anything from men before.

I have had small affairs, no strings attached.

But Pavel Petrovich is such a kind boy.

He is not a boy. He is the Grand Prince.

All right, so it's not a boy but the Grand Prince I am keeping this from.

We need to get rid of it.

Isn't it too late?

No point in delaying it. We have found out what we needed.

I cannot do this, Your Majesty.

What do you mean, you cannot do this?

- I have never performed the operation before. - Who can do it then?

I assume, the medicus who treated Count Orlov.

Can we give Pavel Petrovich a different title?

I would like to find him a bride, so it needs to be emphasized that my heir is now eligible.

Perhaps “heir to the imperial throne”?

If Your Majesty allows, I would take the liberty of suggesting “Cesarevich”.

It sounds solemn, and resembles both “Tsarevich” and “Caesar”.

Peter the Great did not like the word “Tsarevich”.

It invoked memories of Tsarevich Alexei's tragic fate.

At one point, he even ordered to ban this word.

When his daughters were born, he could have called them “Tsarevnas”,

but he preferred the new word, “Cesarevnas”.

And Cesarevich? Has anyone had this title before?

No, Your Majesty. There was no occasion for that.

- What about Pyotr Fyodorovich? - No.

He was never referred to as the Cesarevich,

just the great heir to the throne.

If you wish, I can find out the reason.

I think that Elizaveta Petrovna did not want to waste

this beautiful word on her mindless and trite nephew.

Cesarevich Pavel Petrovich.

It sounds majestic.

Grigory Alexandrovich, how are you, what's new in your life?

I am spending all my life waiting, Your Majesty.

How I long to just meet with you and never to hurry anywhere.

Just you and me.

There is so much I wish to tell you.

But for now, I will write to you. Thank you for the walk.

Changed four lovers in one night.

Keep riding around in a stupid carriage, for gawkers to see and mock at me.

They're spreading rumors that I have a tape worm, wagging their tongues about me.

As if they have nothing else to talk about. A pointless, empty life.

I don't know what I am living for.

I'll get you married. Find someone for you.

Find whom?

There can hardly be few people

who would love to get 5000 acres of land, a 1000 serfs, and a big house?

You are generous with your gifts to me, Your Majesty.

Let Rogerson tell you the medicus' address, and go there.

There are people who write letters about the offences they have suffered,

about their failures and disappointments.

But not me.

Still, today I cannot write a happy letter, either.

My heart is filled with unease and doubt.

There is no one I can share with, no one I can talk to.

Do not be surprised, just believe me.

To His Excellency, Grigory Alexandrovich Potemkin.

- Thank you. - I was ordered to wait for a reply.

In my side I really want to save brave, intelligent and ingenious people.

You are reading this letter could think about why I wrote it?

I will answer you.

Because you should know, that I think about you and I am always benevolent to you.

Not bad, but...

Ekaterina.

Nice.

This is just a job half-done, Your Majesty, so much still needs to be reworked.

I know a Russian proverb: Don't show half-baked work to fools.

This is not what I meant.

And in any case, the proverb is wrong.

There is no point to showing a fool anything at all.

You should not show half-baked work to someone wise...

I... I am sorry, I've said too much, Your Majesty.

Have you found the right stone? As tall as three men?

The search is underway.

Ivan Ivanovich placed a notice in the Vedomosti paper.

Maybe someone will respond to us.

You are talking like a true Russian: maybe yes, maybe no.

I didn't expect that from you!

This is a momentous task, Your Majesty.

One that can be solved only thinking like a true Russian!

And if one thinks like a Frenchman.

- Can you do it, Monsieur Falconet? - Yes.

Give me freedom to act, Your Majesty, and I shall make the best monument in the world!

My monument will keep bringing joy to people for five hundred years.

It bears giving Monsieur Falconet his due, Your Majesty.

This project is very important to him, he is dreaming of a magnificent sculpture!

- Ivan Ivanovich. - Your Majesty!

I learned that you were visiting and decided to go back.

They did it! They found a stone!

I was just going to Lakhta, to see for myself.

Lakhta — that's on the Gulf shore?

Yes, Your Majesty. A boulder of an incredible size!

They call it the Thunder Stone.

This is it, Your Majesty. The Thunder Stone.

- I wonder how much it weighs. - That would be some five million pounds.

I intended to split it up and sell it, was already counting the profits.

- What stopped you? - Did not have the money to buy tools with.

- It won't give in to simple iron. - You can see it from far off!

Thank you, Vishnyakov.

A pleasure.

It has many cracks, but we do not need a boulder this large in any case.

We'll chisel off the unwanted bits along the way.

However will we get it to the Winter Palace? Will you pull through?

Our men will, Your Majesty.

- As they say, many hands make light work. - Light work?

We will make it.

I know some strong fellows.

We'll pull it out and then haul it to that big water out there along the forest's edge.

It won't be quick, so we'll have to be patient.

And then?

Then we'll need machinery and a sturdy barge.

- How much will it cost? - A hundred, I summed it up already.

“A hundred”? “A hundred” of what?

Rubles, of course. Not kopecks, obviously, Your Majesty.

- A month? - A year.

And then, fifty for each of my men.

And some money for buying timber for levers, and some tools and such.

Saws, picks, shovels, iron bars.

And some supple ropes, too.

- And how many men? - Not many, Your Majesty.

Let's make it around three dozen master workers, and, say, five hundred helpers.

And no less than a hundred horses.

Any kind of horses, so long as they can pull.

Anyways, whatever it is, you will still have to pay ten kopeck for one horse.

You won't change your mind, will you?

Who, me?

Crows will sooner start flying backwards than Borka Vishnyakov turns down good work.

How did you put it? “Light work...”

Many hands make light work.

Many hands make light work.

Monsieur Betskoy, the most challenging part of transportation is rollers.

I suggest skids with spheres. Copper or iron...

Imagine how many spheres we will need, Monsieur Falconet.

The job will take around three years.

We will need to construct two piers here and one in St. Petersburg, and then barges, too.

And we will need to build a village.

This can be delegated to Grigory Alexandrovich.

“A hundred”.

I thought it meant a hundred thousand.

Draw the numbers, Ivan Ivanovich.

Let Borka Vishnyakov set you an example.

Trust me, Your Majesty, not a single ruble will go to waste.

But how will we move it?

We will, Your Majesty.

This will be a grand monument.

To last for centuries.

I do not like your constitution.

Open your mouth. Show your tongue.

That tongue is unsettling. Turn around.

Your pelvis in underdeveloped.

Whom did you get such thin skin from, your mother or father?

I do not know.

I have never met my father. And my mother is just like me.

Ah, never met your father, did he die early?

My mother left him for a lover.

They are living out of wedlock. I do not see her.

Any siblings?

No, I am an only daughter.

Oh, lick this.

Oh my, this is bad.

Spread your legs wider.

Wider, I said, wider, wider.

Oh dear.

What's wrong with me?

I can perform the operation that you, in your carelessness, are requesting,

but I must warn you: you will have no other children.

You won't be able to conceive.

And if you do, you will be unable to bear a child, or miscarry.

So my advice to you is: keep your baby.

This, unfortunately, is not for me to decide.

- For whom, then? - Not for me.

Think about it, think about it.

If you want to go through, I will be waiting for you tomorrow at the same time.

How much do I owe you?

Pinkus does not charge for examining women.

Very well.

I will come tomorrow.

- You stupid hen. - What did you say?

I said, “when”.

See, this great heap of odds and ends.

I was asking myself. When someone will sort through them.

What did you think I said?

What are you looking at! Help the lady get dressed.

This is what you call hit and miss.

Try again.

Pavel Petrovich. Alexei Grigorievich.

Your Majesty.

Bowing? Good boy.

You are an adult now, and ready for a serious relationship.

I have given some thought to your future.

I am perfectly capable of thinking of my future all by myself.

I have decided to find you a fitting bride.

I shall marry Sofya Stepanovna and no one else.

You shall not marry Sofya Stepanovna and don't even dare to try.

All men have passing fancies that come to an end, sooner or later.

This is not a fancy, this is the love of my life.

You are forgetting that you are heir to the throne.

From this moment, the only heir.