The Private and Intimate Life of the House

Lyrics: Dave Malloy Music: Dave Malloy BOLKONSKY I’ve aged I’ve aged so very much I fall asleep at the table My napkin drops to the floor I’m full of childish vanities I forget things And I live in the past I’ve aged so very much People enjoy me though I come in for tea in my old-fashioned coat and powdered wig And I tell stories And utter scathing critiques This stern, shrewd old man A relic of the past century With his gentle daughter Such a majestic and agreeable spectacle MARY But besides the couple of hours during which we have guests There are also twenty-two hours in the day During which the private and intimate life of the house continues BOLKONSKY Bring my me slippers MARY Yes father, yes father BOLKONSKY Bring me my wine MARY Yes father, yes father BOLKONSKY If you’re not too busy Fiddling with your incense and icons? MARY No father, no father And I have no friends No, never go anywhere Never invited For who would take care of him BOLKONSKY I can hurt you MARY & BOLKONSKY I can hurt you MARY But I never ever ever ever would No father I love you father And time moves on And my fate slips past And nothing ever happens to me And Countess Natalya Rostova is coming for tea NATASHA I know they’ll like me Everyone has always liked me BOLKONSKY Natasha is young And worthless and dumb MARY And time moves on And my fate slips past Is this all I’ll make of my life? Will I never be happy? Will I never be anyone’s wife? BOLKONSKY Ah, what’s this? A young suitor? Ah, come in, come in But don’t sit down, don’t sit down I’m cold to you Yes I’m mean to you Now be gone, be gone be gone! And don’t come back! Oh, maybe I’ll marry someone myself Some cheap French thing Oh that offends you does it? Ah, come in my dear Come in my dear, come in MARY And he draws her to him And he kisses her hand Embraces her affectionately And I flush and run out of the room BOLKONSKY Come back here Let an old man have his fun MARY But she’s just using you papa Wants your money papa! To take advantage of your weakness like that It’s disgusting My voice breaks BOLKONSKY It’s my money and I’ll throw it where I want Not at you! And not at Andrey’s h****t! Insolent girl! Insolent girl! Where— Where— Where are my glasses? Where are they? Where are my glasses? Oh God— Oh God I’m frightened Oh God I’ve aged so very much Where are my glasses? Where are my glasses? MARY They are there upon his head The pride of sacrifice Gathers in my soul And he forgets things He falls asleep at the table His napkin drops to the floor His shaking head Sinks over his plate He is old and feeble And I dare to judge him I disgust myself I disgust myself