Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: [the darkness of the gulag is making him lose his mind. Shouting] Night... night... night! Night all the time! Ceaseless night! Nothing but night all over the earth! The sun must be dead! Everything must be dead! We're the last things alive!

Station Master: Take your seats, please! Kazan... Moscow... Petrograd!

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: I don't see the train.

Station Master: Sshh! Trains that are seen are being blown up.

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: [Asking about a bribe] And all he wanted was your wristwatch?

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: [Rhetorically] Well, what use is a wristwatch when trains are to be a week late?

British Host at Train Station: Goodbye, Your Excellency. I'm sorry you can't stay for shooting.

Vladinoff: Oh, thanks. But, there's plenty of shooting where I'm going.

British Host at Train Station: Bears? Wolves?

Vladinoff: No, everything. Even Ministers.

Colonle Adraxine: Something ought to be done about these dining cars. Lunch wasn't good; but, the dinner was simply uneatable! As a soldier, I'm accustomed to privations. But, the caviar was filthy and the champagne's certainly not 1906!

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: Bad news?

Colonle Adraxine: Splendid news. A general mobilization. Do you know what that means?

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: War.

Colonle Adraxine: War! At last!

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: Calendar finished yet?

Axelstein: Well, I can't be quite sure if its March 15th or the 16th. I suppose it makes little difference.

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: Well, at least we do know that it is 1916. Two years in this frozen hell while the rest of the world turns upside down and inside out. And no tobacco.

Tomsky: Who's side are you on?

Axelstein: On the side of Revolutionary discipline.

Tomsky: Revolutionary fiddlesticks!

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: I'm ready.

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: Wait!

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: Am I not to be shot?

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: No.

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: But, I want to be shot! I hate you all. I despise you! You're like vermin. Long live Russia! Long live the Czar!

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: When I was having long sleepless nights, I used to try to repeat verses to myself.

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: You had sleepless nights?

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: In Siberia.

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: What verses?

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: Oh, Shakespeare, Browning, Shelley.

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: But, they're English poets. Have you been a student in Petrograd?

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: No, at Oxford.

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: But it was very seldom that Russian students went to Oxford.

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: My father wanted me to go to Oxford.

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: I see. Say some of your verses. Browning.

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: Browning. You must know, "Fear death?" "Fear death?-to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face - " Oh, I bet I am boring you.

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: Go on.

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: Well, just the end. I admire it. "For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end, And the elements' rage, the fiend-voices that rave, Shall dwindle, shall blend, Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain, Then a light, then thy breast, O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again, And with God be the rest!" Do you like it?

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: It's optimistic. That's the English. Listen to a Russian poem. It is hopeless and pessimistic, like we Russians. "I have grown weary of my little dreams, I have outlived the hour of my desire, Alone with tortured empty heart, I weep..."

Gen. Andreyevitch: Why, in a week we shall have retaken Khalinsk. Yes, you'll be back in your own home again.

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: Could I possibly have a bath?

Gen. Andreyevitch: A cake of soap for the Countess!

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: Go on. Please don't stop.

Lukofsky: At your service, Comrade.

Commissar: This vodka's filthy stuff. You can do better than this.

Lukofsky: I have some special bottles in the cellar. But, there's not enough for everybody.

Commissar: Everybody? But, I'm not everybody. Bring 'em up!

Lukofsky: At once, comrade.

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: Do you know this forest?

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: It belongs to me - belonged to me.

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: Are you thinking - that I wouldn't come back - for you?

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: When did you fall in love with me?

Ainsley J. Fothergill aka Peter Ouronov: The first time I saw you. Get up, I said. Get up. Return. And I was lost.

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: [Naked, after a bath, to Peter] Hello, Comrade!

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: Wonderful luck and the most wonderful of all was to meet you.

Poushkoff: Do you think so?

Countess Alexandra Vladinoff: Yes, I do think so. Even if tomorrow means the end of us. As it may do.

Poushkoff: Tomorrow may mean the end of me too. If it does, will you remember me?