NOT FOR PLEASURE ALONE
Fanny.
Mother.
Siri.
Maj.
Grandma.
I am king of 17 lands.
Heed my command.
Alexander.
How are things?
Would you like to play cards before dinner?
THE FIRST ACT
THE EKDAHL FAMILY CELEBRATES CHRISTMAS
It takes longer every year.
Worthy Joseph, do not fear
Thy angel is thee ever near
I come in haste to bring thee word
From thy creator and thy God
Mary and the child now wake
And quickly into safety take
Herod with his murdering hand
Threatens every man-child in this land
All this I have noted well
And shall do as you foretell
Praised be God upon his throne
Who thus protects my only son
Thus, good people, ends our play
It all ends well this holy day
The son of God, saved from the sword
Is our savior, Christ the Lord
We know that in his mercy mild
He guards every woman, man and child
Though far from Bethlehem we roam
The star in the east leads us home
Merrily may every light
Shed its radiance clear and bright
A time of joyous Christmas cheer
We wish to all, both far and near
Let no one into darkness fall
A Merry Christmas one and all
Traditionally the Ekdahls give a party for the theater staff down on the stage.
The guests are what you'd call a rather mixed lot.
Quite different from what we're used to here in the theater restaurant.
Nevertheless, I don't want to see any supercilious glances,
snootiness, or raised eyebrows.
I want to see generosity, warmth and kindness. Is that clear?
- Yes, sir. - That's the spirit!
Alma and Petra, take the Christmas basket.
I'll take the punch bowl.
- Are we ready? - Yes, sir.
Forward march!
Come along, Carlchen.
We mustn't be late to your mother's like last year.
Come along.
Hurry up.
Merry Christmas!
Merry Christmas, Oscar.
Help yourselves, everybody!
Step forward, step forward. Don't be shy.
When you've given Ismael his dinner,
turn off the lights in the shop and lock up.
I have the key.
Good night, Aron.
Good night, Uncle Isak.
This is the 43rd Christmas we're celebrating together.
My dear Ester, is it possible?
Yes, the 43rd.
Well, well, who'd have thought it?
Yes, it's odd.
Dear Ester.
Good evening, Mrs. Ekdahl.
Good evening, girls.
- Alida, you may join the other girls. - Thank you, Mrs. Ekdahl.
- Why are you so sullen? - I'm not sullen.
I can see you are.
You're always sullen on Christmas Eve.
- I don't know what you mean. - You heard me. You're sullen.
Old hag.
My dear friends.
For 22 years...
in the capacity of theater manager,
I've stood here and made a speech...
without really having any talent...
for that sort of thing.
Especially if you think of my father,
who was brilliant at speeches.
My only talent, if you can call it that in my case...
is that I love this little world...
inside the thick walls of this playhouse.
And I'm fond of the people who work in this little world.
Outside is the big world,
and sometimes the little world succeeds...
in reflecting the big one...
so that we understand it better.
Or perhaps we give the people who come here
a chance to forget for a while...
for a few short moments...
the harsh world outside.
Our theater is...
a little room...
of orderliness, routine, care...
and love.
I don't know why I feel...
so comically solemn... this evening.
I can't explain how I feel, so I'd best be brief.
My wife and l...
and the rest of the Ekdahl family,
my brother Carl - I think Carl is here.
We wish you all a happy and joyous Christmas.
I hope we meet again on St. Stephen's Day, strengthened in body and soul.
Merry Christmas.
Isak!
Merry Christmas.
I can't think where they all are.
They should have been here a long time ago.
I expect Oscar is making a long, dull speech.
I think I hear them down in the street.
Ester, bring me my fur.
There comes my family.
Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas, Grandma.
Merry Christmas, Aunt.
Mama, you look so beautiful.
What is it, darling?
Aunt Emma, how nice to see you.
Aunt Emma, how nice. Welcome.
What time is it?
The only question is: Where are Carl and Lydia?
Perhaps they got the wrong time.
Christmas dinner is always at 4:30.
Alexander, run down and ring Uncle Carl's doorbell.
- Carlchen, please hurry. - Shut up!
- We're so late. - Shut up!
We arrive late every year.
- I'm doing this for your sake. - No more, mein Carlchen.
- Mama. - Well, Carl.
Merry Christmas, Aunt.
Well, at last we can have dinner.
Now for the first Sing hop faderallan lallan lay
And those who don't the first one take will also number two forsake
Now for the first
Sing hop faderallan lallan lay
Cheers, Isak and Miss Alida.
I've got terrible heartburn. I have to take a pill.
Mr. Jacobi, how awful!
The Ekdahls will be the death of me.
After last Christmas, I was in bed for three weeks with kidney pains.
- You don't say. - Worse than childbirth.
Does Miss Alida have children?
Good heavens, no. Why do you ask?
I'm in need of a housekeeper, Miss Alida.
Thank you, sir, but I like it with the Ekdahl family.
Let's discuss it after the New Year.
Well, there's no harm in discussing it.
So you see, my brother Gustav Adolf Ekdahl
is a magnificent human being.
Then you brown the breasts, but use plenty of butter in the pan,
and fry some prime pork at the same time.
Then you put the ground meat on top of the breast,
and the pork on top of that.
Finally, you pour the port sauce with mushrooms on top of everything.
Hey, Christmas gnomes Let's raise our glasses and be merry
Our time on earth is brief Full of toil and grief
Hey, Christmas gnomes Let's raise our glasses and be merry
No appetite, Miss Ester?
Miss Vega, you're not eating anything yourself.
It's not easy, I must say.
No, it's not easy. You're right.
It's unseemly, all of us sitting together like this.
I agree with you. It's unseemly.
Sitting together in the kitchen.
It was the old master who decided -
Be that as it may. It's awkward nonetheless.
Yes, it is. It's awkward.
Well, Fanny, we're having a pleasant time, aren't we?
I think dinner is taking too long.
You're wondering what you'll get for Christmas, of course.
Aren't you, Uncle Gusten?
You're absolutely right, my dear.
I'm quite curious as to what the evening will bring.
Frau von Bahlen.
My dear husband has implored me to sing something after dinner.
I said I couldn't, but he's so persistent.
He says my singing reminds him
of our youthful days in Munich.
My husband is so touching, Frau von Bahlen.
Sometimes he's like a child.
Your father is a magnificent human being.
You think I'm being sarcastic.
I'm never sarcastic when I'm in good spirits.
So believe me, Petra, when I say...
Then you add carrots, sprouts, red cabbage and cauliflower,
and then you pour cognac over the whole thing.
We'll have to try it on Twelfth Night - if we're still alive, of course.
Dear friends, I would like to make a speech.
But I'm not going to.
Cheers, Carl. Short and sweet!
This is the 24th Christmas I've celebrated with the family.
My dear Emma, is it really possible?
Yes, my Karl-Henrik died in '79.
Was it that long ago?
He'd be 98 years old if he were living today.
My dear Emma, imagine that.
I was 19 when we got married.
You were only 19?
A great age difference.
There's no denying that. But you were fond of -
My sister also married an older man.
Yes, I remember. It was a magnificent wedding.
He died three months later, leaving a fortune behind.
Karl-Henrik did no such thing.
No, he certainly didn't.
Putte!
Try sitting up properly for once.
Elbows down and back straight. You really have awful table manners.
Berta, since you're sitting next to my father,
could you ask him for me if I may be spared
being taught manners on Christmas Eve?
- Siri. - What is it, Jenny?
Are you mad about something?
Not at all. Why do you ask?
You're not laughing like everybody else.
Some people find it hard to laugh.
Why?
Some people bear a great sorrow, for instance.
And it grows larger and larger when others are happy?
For some people, Christmas is a bit difficult.
Why?
Well, Jenny, there are so many memories.
Maybe you'll be happy by next Christmas.
Maybe.
Aunt Anna?
Yes, Alexander?
Since you're so rich, you could get any man you please.
- You think so, Alexander? - That's what Father says, anyway.
That's nice to hear.
So, you're leaving us to get married, Miss Berta.
Yes, sir, I am.
Well, it's going to be damned lonely without you.
Both my wife and I -
It looks like you'll have some consolation.
Here's to old times, Miss Berta.
Cheers, sir...
and good luck.
A rhyme for the porridge.
"Our porridge is our strength and stay
It is our staple food
In joy, in grief, both night and day
It always does us good"
Look! I found the almond!
Four cheers for the coming year's little bride-to-be!
Now it's Yule again, now it's Yule again and Yule will last until it's Easter
That's not true of course No, that's not true of course
For in between comes Lent and fasting
What would Maj say to a little visit in her room this evening?
The master must be joking.
Are you all right, sir?
I'm fine.
I must help the girls with the tree.
Have you noticed that my old man has begun to court Maj?
- Aren't you angry? - Angry?
I think it's sweet.
Children, come.
Uncle Carl is going to treat you to one helluva fireworks show.
Stay here.
Ready?
Number one.
Now comes number two.
Now comes number three.
Bring the candle.
"And it came to pass in those days
that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus
that all the world should be taxed.
And this taxing was first made
when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.
And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city.
And Joseph also went up from Galilee
out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea...
unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem...
because he was of the house and lineage of David,
to be taxed with Mary his wife,
who was great with child.
And so it was that while they were there,
the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.
And she brought forth her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes
and laid him in a manger,
because there was no room for them in the inn."
- Give up? - No!
I'm sorry. It's a terrible mess in here.
Come see us later and you'll get a Christmas present.
Thank you, Mrs. Ekdahl.
Now then, children, into bed.
Hurry up, Alexander.
To bed now, children.
Now say your prayers.
Thank you God for this day. Please make me good.
May your angel stay by me through the night.
God bless Papa and Mama, Grandpapa and Grandmama,
myself and my brothers and sisters and cousins, uncles and aunts,
Vega, Ester, Maj, Siri, Berta, Alida, Lisen and Uncle Isak and everybody else.
Amen.
- Good night, Alexander. - Good night, sweetheart.
Good night. Sleep well.
Putte kisses like a real man.
Look at my Christmas present.
Look what Mrs. Ekdahl gave me.
Aren't I beautiful? Don't I look lovely?
I look like a real lady.
Don't you think?
Tonight you can't sleep in Maj's bed because Maj will have a visitor.
And I can't just have any number of men in my bed.
But you're Maj's sweetheart. You know that.
I think Mama should recite something.
No, my dear.
Calm down, now.
Don't be shy. You give wonderful recitations.
No, I don't know. I'll have to fortify myself.
I don't know what to read.
Well, you asked for it.
Alone I advance on my course
Farther and farther stretches the road
Alas, in the distance my goal is hidden
Dusk is falling, night fills the sky
Soon the everlasting stars are all I see
But I do not lament the fleeting day
The coming night does not appall me
For of the love that shines through the world
A gleam has entered my soul
How beautiful.
Well, my dear ones, it's time to say good night.
We're getting up early.
Carlchen! Wake up.
We're going home.
Good night, Mama. Carl's a bit tired. I'll give him a hand.
Come along now. We're going home.
Good night.
Good night, Mama.
- I stayed behind. - So I noticed.
There she lies, the beautiful girl, poor Arabella.
Little does she know what awaits her.
She's alone in the whole house.
Her mother is dead, and her father is carousing with loose companions.
Who comes there as the clock strikes 12:00 in the castle tower?
"Fear seizes me.
What is that terrifying white figure
floating on the moonbeams and drawing near my bed?
It is my dead mother. My mother's ghost."
No more noise in here now!
Go to sleep, children. Good night.
I thought I smelled kerosene in the nursery.
- Kerosene? - Yes, kerosene.
There's no kerosene lamp in the nursery.
Well, it smells like it anyway.
I'll go see what it could be.
It really does smell of kerosene.
Are you sleeping, you brats?
What have you been up to?
That's strange.
Yes, very strange.
This is a chair.
But not just any chair.
It might look like an ordinary nursery chair,
made of wood, humble and rather worn...
but looks can be deceiving.
It's actually the most valuable chair in the world.
It belonged to the emperor of China
and has by strange paths ended up in the Ekdahl nursery.
But pay attention, ladies and gentlemen.
Look closely.
Keep your eyes open.
Look there.
Do you see the mysterious light
that radiates from that little chair?
That's right. It glows from within.
Look how it shines.
Now I ask you, my children:
Why does the chair shine?
Why does it shimmer in the dark?
I'll tell you, but remember:
It's a secret.
Whoever reveals it will perish.
Do you swear to keep quiet? - We swear.
Not so loud. Mother could hear us.
And that would be the end of the performance.
This is the most valuable chair in the world.
It's made of a metal found 40 miles beneath the earth,
and only in China.
Though it appears encrusted with diamonds,
it's much finer and more costly.
The chair was built 3,000 years ago
by the emperor's master jeweler
as a birthday present for the empress.
She was very small in stature, not much bigger than Fanny,
but she was the world's most beautiful woman.
Her entire life she sat on this chair.
Two servants accompanied her wherever she went,
carrying the chair between them.
When the empress died, she was buried sitting on this chair.
For 2,000 years she sat in her burial chamber.
The chair shimmered in the dark, its light shining right through
the empress's little figure.
But then a band of robbers came
and broke into the tomb.
They knocked the empress off the chair,
and she turned to powder and dust.
Then they made off with the chair.
Now it belongs to you.
The most precious chair in the world belongs to you.
Take care of it, for it's very fragile.
It might easily fall to pieces.
Touch it gently.
Sit on it very carefully.
Talk to it.
And at least twice a day breathe on it.
What an idiotic little chair!
So worn and ridiculous!
And ugly, to boot!
I'll be damned!
I think the confounded chair is trying to bite my rear end!
I'll show it!
Don't do that!
Have you all gone mad? It's 3:00 in the morning!
We have to get up for church in two hours!
- Can we be in Hamlet? - Please.
I know you've spoken with Mr. Landahl, but this is a matter for Father to decide.
It's for Mother to decide.
It's much too late for children who have school the next day.
No, it's not.
We can be pages in the first act.
Who's not in the last act can't be in the first.
It has to be different pages in the last act anyway.
Good night, kids.
On the condition that you do your homework...
and come straight home after the court scenes.
And absolutely no whining about getting up the next morning.
Here we go, Isak. I've made some nice strong coffee.
Much better than Vega's awful dishwater.
Give this a try.
What can the time be? Ten past 3:00.
We can sit for two hours,
and then I must change for early service.
How good it is to have you here!
You're my best friend.
Whatever would I do without you?
Last year I enjoyed Christmas.
This year all I wanted to do was cry.
I suppose I'm getting old.
Do you think I've aged?
You've grown older, yes.
I thought so.
Yes, I just wanted to cry.
Though I love having the grandchildren, of course.
I didn't think Oscar looked well.
He wears himself out with that theater.
And the idea of him playing the ghost.
He should take it easy.
Besides, he's an awfully bad actor.
I wonder if Emilie realizes that he's weak and needs rest.
I think I'll have a word with her.
He's capable, of course. Capable and conscientious.
Can you believe the theater even makes a small profit?
Isn't that splendid?
A few years ago I contributed a minimum of 50,000 kronor per year.
I didn't care, but Oscar felt so awkward asking me for money.
Not like Carl.
He asked me for a new loan, but I refused.
If he comes to you for money, you must say no too.
Promise me that. - Yes, yes.
I don't understand it.
Time and again I clear everything up for him.
After a year, he's in dire straits again.
He says he doesn't go to moneylenders.
Do you know? - No.
And that poor German woman he's married to.
How could he have fallen for her?
It must be something erotic.
What do you think?
Erotic? Yes, perhaps.
- You're not listening. - Yes, I am.
Never mind. The main thing is that you keep me company.
Carl and Gustav Adolf are oversexed.
They take after their father. He was oversexed.
At times I thought it was too much of a good thing,
but I never refused.
Gustav Adolf is incorrigible.
I've spoken with Alma, and she wisely says she doesn't mind his philandering,
because he's the kindest husband in the world.
It's fortunate that Alma is so understanding.
Perhaps I ought to warn that nursemaid Maj, or whatever her name is.
I must say she's very pretty, and good with the children.
Beautiful coloring and a nice figure.
Pity she limps, the poor thing.
What you don't poke your nose into
you don't have to pull it out of, as Grandma used to say.
Are you asleep? - No, no.
Carl and Gustav Adolf got too much, and Oscar got nothing.
Imagine the tragedy for Emilie, who's such a warm-blooded young woman.
When she was pregnant with Fanny, she told me all about it.
Poor girl.
I have to say she's handled her affairs in a most tactful manner.
Oscar and Emilie are enormously fond of each other.
A happy marriage in spite of everything.
Are you sad because you've grown old?
I'm certainly not. Everything's getting worse.
Worse people, worse machines, worse wars...
and worse weather.
I'm glad I'll soon be dead.
You're an incorrigible old misanthrope and always have been.
I don't agree with you. - I thought as much.
That doesn't stop me from crying.
Would you mind if I cry a while?
No, upon my soul, I can't. The tears won't come.
I'll have to have some more cognac.
What are you laughing at?
Do you remember when we sat there on the sofa kissing madly?
You had unbuttoned my blouse,
and something else too.
Then suddenly the curtain was drawn aside,
and there stood my dear husband.
It was just like a play by Feydeau.
I screamed and you made for the door.
He rushed off to get his pistol, with me hanging on his leg.
You became friends for life.
Your husband was a greathearted man.
Now I'm weeping.
The happy, splendid life is over,
and the horrible, dirty life engulfs us.
That's the way it is.
This won't do.
I must wash up and redo my makeup,
do my hair and put on my corset and silk dress.
A weepy, lovesick woman turns into a self-possessed grandmother.
We all play our parts.
Some play them negligently, others with great care.
I'm one of the latter.
Good night, my lovely Helena.
You were a sweet lover.
Like strawberries.
You wanted me to help you with your morning toilet, Mrs. Ekdahl.
The time is ten to 5:00.
A café on Castle Street.
Your own cakes and pastries,
tarts and confections.
What do you say to that, little Maj?
You'd be in charge of it.
Just yesterday I said to Alma,
"Look at Maj. She's a princess."
What breasts you have, my girl.
Let me see properly.
You drive me crazy.
Don't be afraid, child.
I'm a wonderful lover. All the women say so.
Once you get me on my back, you'll forget about the café.
I swear.
Give me something to write on.
Come. Come over here.
Here's a pen.
Now I'll write:
"Maja Kling...
is the proprietress of my café."
Signed, Gustav Adolf Ekdahl.
Christmas night, 1907.
There! That's a contract.
Stick it under a lawyer's nose if I forget my promise.
Be careful not to put me in the family way.
Well, what do you say? Aren't I nice?
Ever felt such a wooden leg?
Damnation! The rocket went off too soon.
Oh, well, it happens. Wasn't it wonderful?
You're a real billy goat, sir.
And you're my little lamb.
I must lie on my back. I'm all in a sweat.
I ate and drank too much. - You're not ill?
Not me! I feel like a bakery ablaze.
Or should I say café?
Ill? When I'm with such a tasty little morsel?
Sit on top of me.
Oh, you're impossible, sir!
Ride a rocking horse to Banbury Cross
To see a fine lady on a white steed
What a glorious time we're having!
- My goodness, how your heart's pounding. - I've got a splendid heart.
Now you'll have to give me a new bed.
You'll have a café, an apartment,
beautiful furniture, and a big bed.
- And pretty clothes. - No one will be prettier.
You will be Gustav Adolf's mistress,
and I'll come see you every Wednesday and Saturday at 3:00.
How silly you are.
- What? - I said you're silly.
- Silly, am l? - You're a real numbskull.
I'm not a numbskull!
You are, for imagining I'd want anything from you.
Don't you want anything?
Don't you see I was joking?
Joking?
In what way?
Don't be angry.
I'm not, but I don't like being treated like an idiot.
Stop laughing. - I think you're so funny.
I don't like being laughed at.
I can feel a cold coming on.
My throat hurts when I swallow.
My teeth are tingling.
It's freezing in here. Why isn't there any heat?
We don't have any credit with the wood merchant.
We owe 150 kronor. Das weißt Du doch.
You haven't learned a damn bit of Swedish in 23 years.
Speak Swedish!
I do my best.
Last Tuesday I asked Mama for ten thousand to sort out my affairs.
She took out a paper that said I owed her 37,000.
It's incredible.
- You'll have to go to the Jew. - I've already been.
I'm paying one hell of an exorbitant interest rate,
and if I don't pay on time, he'll show the lOU to Mama.
I have some jewelry.
Idiot.
That would be nice. Professor Ekdahl running to the pawnbroker.
Aren't you coming to bed?
I feel ill.
There was something wrong with the herring salad.
It tasted stale.
I'm sure Mama saved it from Easter, the stingy hag.
You don't serve herring salad for Christmas, damn it.
Why did I marry you?
You're ugly, poor and barren.
You couldn't even give me a child.
You never make love to me.
Ich sage aber nichts. - Speak Swedish.
Poor Carl. You're so unhappy.
If you weren't so anxious -
The dean scolded me. Said I'm neglecting my lectures.
I'm a scientist,
the only real scientist in the whole damn university.
But nobody cares.
Oh, my head.
I have a terrible headache.
And we have to go to that damn early service!
Coercion at every turn!
No, Carlchen!
Then you have to smile matter-of-factly, "Dear Mama, how beautiful you are.
You look like a young woman."
"Dear Emilie, I've never seen you play the Christmas angel so wonderfully."
"How is it, Oscar,
that you succeed in everything you do?"
How do you do that?
Come, Carlchen. Come and sit by me.
You smell bad.
Have you given up washing, or are you starting to rot?
No. I don't smell bad at all.
You have olfactory hallucinations.
It's bleeding.
- Shall I bandage it up? - No.
- Won't you try and get some sleep? - Yes.
I feel sorry for you, mein Carlchen.
How is it one becomes second-rate?
Can you tell me that?
How does the dust fall?
When has one lost?
First I'm a prince, heir to the kingdom.
Suddenly, before I know it...
I'm deposed.
Death taps me on the shoulder.
The room is cold...
and we can't pay for kindling.
I'm stupid and unkind.
And I'm most unkind...
to the only person who cares for me.
You can never forgive me.
I'm a shit and a cad.
If you'd like, I'll make you a hot toddy.
Don't be so damned servile!
Wipe your mouth. Your lips are always wet. It's disgusting!
I don't mean to be unkind.
I know that, mein Liebling.
Oh, life!
Insomnia, poverty and humiliation.
Stretch out your hand and you grope in the emptiness.
Why am I such a bloody coward?
You have your amusements.
- That's enough, mein Liebling. - Nothing troubles you.
I strike you and you kiss my hand.
I spit on you and you forgive me. You're repulsive!
I can't stand your love. I have to get away from you.
You'll have to go back to Munich. We're getting a divorce.
I want to finally be spared seeing you,
smelling you, listening to your damned gibberish.
I'll be spared your solicitude, your anxious eyes,
your cloying love.
When you're sad and unhappy, you always talk like this.
I don't care anymore. You know that.
I want to sleep.
Maybe I'll dream of a sweet-smelling female body...
with small breasts and narrow hips,
Iong legs...
dark hair and cheerful personality.
Her legs and arms are wrapped around me,
pressing herself against me.
We make love.
Her flesh is firm and generous.
Damnation!
Old age, prison, disgust!
No, Carlchen!
Stop! Stop it!
Don't touch me, damn it!
You know why I hate you so, mein Liebchen?
You're a mirror image.
Kindness reflects kindness.
Mediocrity reflects mediocrity.
I see it contorting your face. You suffer, but you endure it.
That's the big difference,
I will never endure it.
Good night.
Well, Gustav Adolf.
- Good morning, Papa. - Good morning, Petra.
Don't I get a kiss?
- Good morning, Gustav Adolf. - Good morning, Alma.
Go and fry three eggs and some ham for Papa,
and make two cheese sandwiches.
What will you drink? - Beer.
Petra, you know where the beer crate is.
No, wait, I think there's some stout in the cupboard.
Would you rather have stout? - Yes.
Don't stand there staring. We have to be at Grandma's in an hour.
- How do you feel? - Cognac.
- I've put out your clothes. - Thank you.
And there's hot water if you want a bath.
That would be nice.
Hurry up now.
You're a damned handsome woman.
And you're a big shit.
- Come to bed. - I just did my hair.
We'll have a quick one standing up.
- Petra's coming with breakfast. - We'll lock the door.
Come on then, but make it quick.
- I don't think I can. - You can't?
No. There must be something wrong.
- You're not sick, are you? - I'm fit as a fiddle.
- Lie down on the bed. - Yes, I guess I could do that.
- Shall I bring in the breakfast tray? - Yes, please.
To think that I haven't killed you.
Now what do you say?
I wonder if it will be a cold day.
I think it'll be very cold.
My thermometer says 20°C below.
Don't yawn at the table, Alexander.
Cheers, brother Carl.
I heard the bishop will be saying the service today.
Really?
I can't help it. Your father's a bit nutty.
Excuse me.
Well, my friends, it's time.