Pierre & Natasha

[Pierre]

Natasha was standing

In the middle of the drawing room

With a pale yet steady face

When I appeared in the doorway

She grew flustered and I hurried to her

I thought that she would give me her hand

But instead she stopped

Breathing heavily

Her thin arms hanging lifelessly

Just in the very pose

She used to stand in as a young girl

When she went to the middle of the ballroom to sing

But the look on her face was quite different

[Natasha]

Peter kirilovich

[Pierre]

Pierre

[Natasha]

Prince bolkonsky was your friend—

He is your friend

He once told me that I should turn to you

[Pierre]

Pierre sniffed as he looked at her, but he didn’t speak

’Til then he had reproached her, and tried to despise her

But now he felt such pity for her

That there was no room in his soul for reproach

[Natasha]

He is here now

Tell him to—tell him to forgive me

[Pierre]

Yes, I will tell him to forgive you

But, he gave me your letters—

[Natasha]

No, I know that all is over

I know that it never can be

But still I’m tormented by the wrongs I’ve done him

Tell him that I beg him to forgive, forgive

Forgive me for everything

[Pierre]

Yes I will tell him, tell him everything

But—

But I should like to know one thing

Did you love—

Did you love that bad man?

[Natasha]

Don’t call him bad

But I don’t know, I don’t know at all

[Pierre]

She began to cry

And a greater sense of pity, tenderness, and love overflowed pierre’s heart

He felt the tears begin to trickle underneath his spectacles

And he hoped that no one would see

We won’t speak of it anymore

We won’t speak of it, my dear

But one thing I beg of you, consider me your friend

And if you ever need help, or simply to open your heart to someone

Not now, but when your mind is clear

Think of me—

Pierre grew confused

[Natasha]

Don’t speak to me like that

I am not worth it!

[Pierre]

Stop, stop, stop!

You have your whole life before you—

[Natasha]

Before me? No, all is over for me!

[Pierre]

All over?

(Music stops.)

If I were not myself

But the brightest, handsomest

Best man on earth

And if I were free—

I would get down on my knees this minute

And ask you for your hand

And for your love

(Music resumes.)

[Natasha]

And for the first time in many days

I weep tears of gratitude

Tears of tenderness

Tears of thanks

And glancing at pierre

Oh pierre

I leave the room smiling

[Pierre]

And restraining tears of tenderness

Tears of joy which choke me

I throw my fur coat on my shoulders

Unable to find the sleeves

Outside, my great broad chest

Breathes in deep the air with joy

Despite the ten degrees of frost

And I get into my sleigh