He must keep order, keep the law, that’s what the government is there for. Am I not right, good Christians? He thinks there’s no government! How can one do without government? Or else there would be plenty who’d rob us.


Why talk nonsense? Will they give up Moscow like this? They told you that for fun, and you believed it! Aren’t there plenty of troops on the march? Let him in, indeed! That’s what the government is for. You’d better listen to what people are saying,


An ukáse, they are reading an ukáse! Reading an ukáse!


Early tomorrow I shall go to his Serene Highness,


Sirin Highness,


to consult with him to act, and to aid the army to exterminate these scoundrels. We too will take part...


Do you see, he’s going to clear up the whole affair for you....


in destroying them, and will send these visitors to the devil. I will come back to dinner, and we’ll set to work. We will do, completely do, and undo these scoundrels.


We should ask him... that’s he himself? Yes, ask him indeed!... Why not? He’ll explain


What people are these? What people are these?


your honor, in accord with the proclamation of his highest excellency the count, they desire to serve, not sparing their lives, and it is not any kind of riot, but as his highest excellence said...


The count has not left, he is here, and an order will be issued concerning you. Go on!


It’s a fraud, lads! Lead the way to him, himself! Don’t let him go, lads! Let him answer us! Keep him!


There now, the gentry and merchants have gone away and left us to perish. Do they think we’re dogs?


Why were the holy relics, the arms, ammunition, gunpowder, and stores of corn not removed? Why were thousands of inhabitants deceived into believing that Moscow would not be given up—and thereby ruined? To preserve the tranquillity of the city. Why were bundles of useless papers from the government offices, and Leppich’s balloon and other articles removed? To leave the town empty,


Who is to blame for it? Who has let things come to such a pass? Not I, of course. I had everything ready. I had Moscow firmly in hand. And this is what they have let it come to! Villains! Traitors! Your excellency, the Director of the Registrar’s Department has sent for instructions.... From the Consistory, from the Senate, from the University, from the Foundling Hospital, the Suffragan has sent... asking for information.... What are your orders about the Fire Brigade? From the governor of the prison... from the superintendent of the lunatic asylum... Oh, tell that blockhead, that he should remain to guard his documents. Now why are you asking silly questions about the Fire Brigade? They have horses, let them be off to Vladímir, and not leave them to the French.


Your excellency, the superintendent of the lunatic asylum has come: what are your commands?


My commands? Let them go away, that’s all.... And let the lunatics out into the town. When lunatics command our armies God evidently means these other madmen to be free. Do you expect me to give you two battalions—which we have not got—for a convoy? Release them, that’s all about it!


Your excellency, there are some political prisoners, Meshkóv, Vereshchágin...


Vereshchágin! Hasn’t he been hanged yet? Bring him to me!


Is my carriage ready?


It is, your excellency,


But what do they want?


Your excellency, they say they have got ready, according to your orders, to go against the French, and they shouted something about treachery. But it is a turbulent crowd, your excellency—I hardly managed to get away from it. Your excellency, I venture to suggest...


You may go. I don’t need you to tell me what to do! This is what they have done with Russia! This is what they have done with me! Here is that mob, the dregs of the people, this rabble they have roused by their folly! They want a victim. Is the carriage ready?


Yes, your excellency. What are your orders about Vereshchágin? He is waiting at the porch,


Ah! Good morning, lads! Thank you for coming. I’ll come out to you in a moment, but we must first settle with the villain. We must punish the villain who has caused the ruin of Moscow. Wait for me!


He’ll settle with all the villains, you’ll see! And you said the French... He’ll show you what law is!


Where is he? Ah! Put him there.


Lads! This man, Vereshchágin, is the scoundrel by whose doing Moscow is perishing.


He has betrayed his Tsar and his country, he has gone over to Bonaparte. He alone of all the Russians has disgraced the Russian name, he has caused Moscow to perish. Deal with him as you think fit! I hand him over to you. Beat him!... Let the traitor perish and not disgrace the Russian name! Cut him down. I command it.


Count! Count! One God is above us both....


Cut him down! I command it...


Draw sabers! Saber him!


Ah!


O Lord!


Hit him with an ax, eh!... Crushed?... Traitor, he sold Christ.... Still alive... tenacious... serves him right! Torture serves a thief right. Use the hatchet!... What—still alive? O Lord! The people are like wild beasts! How could he be alive? Quite a young fellow too... must have been a merchant’s son. What men!... and they say he’s not the right one.... How not the right one?... O Lord! And there’s another has been beaten too—they say he’s nearly done for.... Oh, the people... Aren’t they afraid of sinning?...


This way, your excellency... Where are you going?... This way, please...


The mob is terrible—disgusting. They are like wolves whom nothing but flesh can appease.


Count! One God is above us both!


I had other duties. The people had to be appeased. Many other victims have perished and are perishing for the public good Had I been simply Theodore Vasílyevich my course of action would have been quite different, but it was my duty to safeguard my life and dignity as commander in chief.


Vereshchágin was tried and condemned to death, he was a traitor and a spy. I could not let him go unpunished and so I have killed two birds with one stone: to appease the mob I gave them a victim and at the same time punished a miscreant.


Stop! Pull up, I tell you! Thrice have they slain me, thrice have I risen from the dead. They stoned me, crucified me... I shall rise... shall rise... shall rise. They have torn my body. The kingdom of God will be overthrown... Thrice will I overthrow it and thrice re-establish it!


Go fas... faster!


Cut him down! I command it....


Why did I utter those words? It was by some accident I said them.... I need not have said them. And then nothing would have happened. But I did not do it for my own sake. I was bound to act that way.... The mob, the traitor... the public welfare. Things would have been different if your Serene Highness had not told me that you would not abandon Moscow without another battle; all this would not have happened,


No! I shall not give up Moscow without a battle!


Is that their Tsar himself? He’s not bad! Take off your cap... your caps!


Good!


Fire!


Fire! Clear that away! Clear that away!


Le patriotisme féroce de Rostopchíne


Are you remaining in Moscow?... How splendid!


Yes, alone, for the sake of all, I must do it or perish! Yes, I will approach... and then suddenly... with pistol or dagger? It is not I but the hand of Providence that punishes thee. Well then, take me and execute me!


They’re frightened. I say I won’t surrender, I say... Am I not right, sir? To arms! Board them! No, you shan’t get it,


That will do, please, that will do. Have the goodness—please, sir, to let go! Please, sir...


Who are you? Bonaparte!...


That’s not right, sir. Come to your room, please, and rest. Allow me to have the pistol.


Be off, thou base slave! Touch me not! See this? Board them!


Catch hold!


It’s them! Gracious heavens! O Lord, four of them, horsemen!


Bonjour, la compagnie! Vous êtes le bourgeois? Quartier, quartier, logement! Les français sont de bons enfants. Que diable! Voyons! Ne nous fâchons pas, mon vieux! Well, does no one speak French in this establishment?


Quarters, quarters, lodgings! The French are good fellows. What the devil! There, don’t let us be cross, old fellow!


Master, not here—don’t understand... me, you...


Board them!


You are not wounded?


I think not. But I have had a lucky escape this time. Who is that man?


Oh, I am really in despair at what has occurred. He is an unfortunate madman who did not know what he was doing.


Brigand! You shall pay for this. We French are merciful after victory, but we do not pardon traitors. You have saved my life. You are French,


I am Russian,


Tut, tut, tut! Tell that to others. You shall tell me all about that presently. I am delighted to meet a compatriot. Well, and what are we to do with this man?


You have saved my life! You are French. You ask his pardon? I grant it you. Lead that man away! You will be called in when you are wanted,


Captain, there is soup and a leg of mutton in the kitchen. Shall I serve them up?


Yes, and some wine,


When the French officer went into the room with Pierre the latter again thought it his duty to assure him that he was not French and wished to go away, but the officer would not hear of it. He was so very polite, amiable, good-natured, and genuinely grateful to Pierre for saving his life that Pierre had not the heart to refuse, and sat down with him in the parlor—the first room they entered. To Pierre’s assurances that he was not a Frenchman, the captain, evidently not understanding how anyone could decline so flattering an appellation, shrugged his shoulders and said that if Pierre absolutely insisted on passing for a Russian let it be so, but for all that he would be forever bound to Pierre by gratitude for saving his life.


A Frenchman or a Russian prince incognito. I owe my life to you and offer you my friendship. A Frenchman never forgets either an insult or a service. I offer you my friendship. That is all I can say. Captain Ramballe, of the 13th Light Regiment, Chevalier of the Legion of Honor for the affair on the seventh of September. Will you now be so good as to tell me with whom I have the honor of conversing so pleasantly, instead of being in the ambulance with that maniac’s bullet in my body? Oh, please! I understand your reasons. You are an officer... a superior officer perhaps. You have borne arms against us. That’s not my business. I owe you my life. That is enough for me. I am quite at your service. You belong to the gentry? Your baptismal name, if you please. That is all I ask. Monsieur Pierre, you say.... That’s all I want to know. Excellent! Delicious!


Yes, my dear Monsieur Pierre, I owe you a fine votive candle for saving me from that maniac.... You see, I have bullets enough in my body already. Here is one I got at Wagram and a second at Smolénsk and this leg which as you see does not want to march, I got that on the seventh at the great battle of la Moskowa. Sacré Dieu! It was splendid! That deluge of fire was worth seeing. It was a tough job you set us there, my word! You may be proud of it! And on my honor, in spite of the cough I caught there, I should be ready to begin again. I pity those who did not see it.


I was there,


Bah, really? So much the better! You are certainly brave foes. The great redoubt held out well, by my pipe! And you made us pay dear for it. I was at it three times—sure as I sit here. Three times we reached the guns and three times we were thrown back like cardboard figures. Oh, it was beautiful, Monsieur Pierre! Your grenadiers were splendid, by heaven! I saw them close up their ranks six times in succession and march as if on parade. Fine fellows! Our King of Naples, who knows what’s what, cried ‘Bravo!’ Ha, ha! So you are one of us soldiers! So much the better, so much the better, Monsieur Pierre! Terrible in battle... gallant... with the fair that’s what the French are, Monsieur Pierre, aren’t they? Apropos, tell me please, is it true that the women have all left Moscow? What a queer idea! What had they to be afraid of?


Would not the French ladies leave Paris if the Russians entered it?


Ha, ha, ha! What a thing to say! Paris?... But Paris, Paris...


Paris—the capital of the world,


Well, if you hadn’t told me you were Russian, I should have wagered that you were Parisian! You have that... I don’t know what, that...


I have been in Paris. I spent years there,


Oh yes, one sees that plainly. Paris!... A man who doesn’t know Paris is a savage. You can tell a Parisian two leagues off. Paris is Talma, la Duchénois, Potier, the Sorbonne, the boulevards. There is only one Paris in the world. You have been to Paris and have remained Russian. Well, I don’t esteem you the less for it. To return to your ladies—I hear they are lovely. What a wretched idea to go and bury themselves in the steppes when the French army is in Moscow. What a chance those girls have missed! Your peasants, now—that’s another thing; but you civilized people, you ought to know us better than that. We took Vienna, Berlin, Madrid, Naples, Rome, Warsaw, all the world’s capitals.... We are feared, but we are loved. We are nice to know. And then the Emperor...


The Emperor, is the Emperor...?


The Emperor? He is generosity, mercy, justice, order, genius—that’s what the Emperor is! It is I, Ramballe, who tell you so.... I assure you I was his enemy eight years ago. My father was an emigrant count.... But that man has vanquished me. He has taken hold of me. I could not resist the sight of the grandeur and glory with which he has covered France. When I understood what he wanted—when I saw that he was preparing a bed of laurels for us, you know, I said to myself: ‘That is a monarch,’ and I devoted myself to him! So there! Oh yes, mon cher, he is the greatest man of the ages past or future.


Is he in Moscow?


No, he will make his entry tomorrow,


The colonel of those Württembergers is delightful. He’s a German, but a nice fellow all the same.... But he’s a German. By the way, you know German, then? What is the German for ‘shelter’?


Shelter? The German for shelter is Unterkunft.


How do you say it?


Unterkunft,


Onterkoff. These Germans are first-rate fools, don’t you think so, Monsieur Pierre? Well, let’s have another bottle of this Moscow Bordeaux, shall we? Morel will warm us up another little bottle. Morel! There now, we’re sad. Have I upset you? No, really, have you anything against me? Perhaps it’s the state of affairs?


Thank you,


Well, in that case, I drink to our friendship! Yes, my dear friend, such is fortune’s caprice. Who would have said that I should be a soldier and a captain of dragoons in the service of Bonaparte, as we used to call him? Yet here I am in Moscow with him. I must tell you, mon cher, that our name is one of the most ancient in France. But all that is only life’s setting, the real thing is love—love! Am I not right, Monsieur Pierre? Another glass? Oh, women, women!


I have saved your life, and I save your honor!


Peter Kirílovich, come here! We have recognized you,


He began to explain that he understood love for a woman somewhat differently. He said that in all his life he had loved and still loved only one woman, and that she could never be his.


Tiens!


Platónic love, clouds...


There now, how good it is, what more does one need?


But look here, brothers, there’s another fire!


But they told us Little Mytíshchi had been set on fire by Mamónov’s Cossacks.


But that’s not Mytíshchi, it’s farther away.


Look, it must be in Moscow!


It’s more to the left, why, Little Mytíshchi is over there, and this is right on the other side.


See how it’s flaring. That’s a fire in Moscow: either in the Sushchévski or the Rogózhski quarter.


What are you staring at, you good-for-nothing?... The count will be calling and there’s nobody there; go and gather the clothes together.


I only ran out to get some water,


But what do you think, Daniel Teréntich? Doesn’t it look as if that glow were in Moscow?


God have mercy.... It’s windy and dry...


Just look! See what it’s doing now. O Lord! You can even see the crows flying. Lord have mercy on us sinners!


They’ll put it out, no fear!


Who’s to put it out? Moscow it is, brothers. Mother Moscow, the white...


Oh, how terrible. I believe the whole of Moscow will burn, there’s an awful glow! Natásha, do look! You can see it from the window,


Look, Natásha, how dreadfully it is burning!


What’s burning? Oh, yes, Moscow.


But you didn’t see it!


Yes, really I did,


You are cold. You are trembling all over. You’d better lie down,


Lie down? All right, I will. I’ll lie down at once,


No, Mamma, I will lie down here on the floor,


Lie down, darling; lie down, my pet. Come, lie down.


Oh, yes... I’ll lie down at once,


Natásha, you’d better lie in the middle,


I’ll stay here. Do lie down,


I think she’s asleep, Mamma,


Sónya, are you asleep? Mamma?


What do you want? What’s the matter?


And the tea?


I don’t want any more. Is Timókhin here?


I am here, your excellency.


How’s your wound?


Mine, sir? All right. But how about you?


Couldn’t one get a book?


What book?


The Gospels. I haven’t one.


What trouble would it be to you? I have not got one. Please get it for me and put it under for a moment,


You fellows have no conscience. For just one moment I didn’t look after you... It’s such pain, you know, that I wonder how he can bear it.


By the Lord Jesus Christ, I thought we had put something under him!


Yes, a new happiness was revealed to me of which man cannot be deprived. A happiness lying beyond material forces, outside the material influences that act on man—a happiness of the soul alone, the happiness of loving. Every man can understand it, but to conceive it and enjoin it was possible only for God. But how did God enjoin that law? And why was the Son...? piti-piti-piti ti-ti it stretches, stretches, spreading out and stretching,


But perhaps that’s my shirt on the table, and that’s my legs, and that is the door, but why is it always stretching and drawing itself out, and ‘piti-piti-piti’ and ‘ti-ti’ and ‘piti-piti-piti’...? That’s enough, please leave off! piti-piti-piti Yes—love. But not love which loves for something, for some quality, for some purpose, or for some reason, but the love which I—while dying—first experienced when I saw my enemy and yet loved him. I experienced that feeling of love which is the very essence of the soul and does not require an object. Now again I feel that bliss. To love one’s neighbors, to love one’s enemies, to love everything, to love God in all His manifestations. It is possible to love someone dear to you with human love, but an enemy can only be loved by divine love. That is why I experienced such joy when I felt that I loved that man. What has become of him? Is he alive?... When loving with human love one may pass from love to hatred, but divine love cannot change. No, neither death nor anything else can destroy it. It is the very essence of the soul. Yet how many people have I hated in my life? And of them all, I loved and hated none as I did her. If only it were possible for me to see her once more! Just once, looking into those eyes to say... Piti-piti-piti and ti-ti and piti-piti-piti boom!


Oh, how oppressive this continual delirium is,


You? How fortunate!


Forgive me! Forgive me!


I love you,


Forgive...!


Forgive what?


Forgive me for what I ha-ve do-ne!


I love you more, better than before,


What’s this? Please go away, madam!


Am I not too late? No, probably he won’t make his entry into Moscow before noon. No matter, the dagger will do,


Dear people, good Christians, save me, help me, dear friends... help us, somebody. My girl... My daughter! My youngest daughter is left behind. She’s burned! Ooh! Was it for this I nursed you.... Ooh!


Don’t, Mary Nikoláevna! Sister must have taken her, or else where can she be?


Monster! Villain! You have no heart, you don’t feel for your own child! Another man would have rescued her from the fire. But this is a monster and neither a man nor a father! You, honored sir, are a noble man. The fire broke out alongside, and blew our way, the maid called out ‘Fire!’ and we rushed to collect our things. We ran out just as we were.... This is what we have brought away.... The icons, and my dowry bed, all the rest is lost. We seized the children. But not Katie! Ooh! O Lord!... My child, my dear one! Burned, burned!


But where was she left?


Oh, dear sir! My benefactor, set my heart at ease.... Aníska, go, you horrid girl, show him the way!


Show me the way, show me, I... I’ll do it,


On ne passe pas!


You can’t pass!


This way, uncle. We’ll pass through the side street, by the Nikúlins’! It’s here, close by,


Which is it? Which is your house?


Ooh! That’s it, that was our lodging. You’ve burned to death, our treasure, Katie, my precious little missy! Ooh!


What does this fellow want?


There’s a child in that house. Haven’t you seen a child?


What’s he talking about? Get along!


A child? I did hear something squealing in the garden. Perhaps it’s his brat that the fellow is looking for. After all, one must be human, you know....


Where is it? Where?


There! There! Wait a bit—I’m coming down. Hurry up, you others! It’s getting hot. There is your child! Oh, a girl, so much the better! Good-by, Fatty. We must be human, we are all mortal you know!


Have you lost anyone, my dear fellow? You’re of the gentry yourself, aren’t you? Whose child is it?


Why, that must be the Anférovs. Lord have mercy, Lord have mercy!


The Anférovs? No. They left in the morning. That must be either Mary Nikoláevna’s or the Ivánovs’!


He says ‘a woman,’ and Mary Nikoláevna is a lady,


Do you know her? She’s thin, with long teeth,


That’s Mary Nikoláevna! They went inside the garden when these wolves swooped down,


O Lord, have mercy!


Go over that way, they’re there. It’s she! She kept on lamenting and crying. It’s she. Here, this way!


Here, take the child! Give her back to them, give her back!


Let that woman alone!


Voyons, pas de bêtises!


Look here, no nonsense!


Lieutenant, he has a dagger,


Ah, a weapon? All right, you can tell all about it at the court-martial. Do you speak French? Do you speak French? Call the interpreter.


He does not look like a common man,


Ah, he looks very much like an incendiary. And ask him who he is,


Who are you? You must answer the chief.


I will not tell you who I am. I am your prisoner—take me!


Ah, ah! Well then, march!


Where are they taking you to, you poor dear? And the little girl, the little girl, what am I to do with her if she’s not theirs?


What does that woman want?


What does she want? She is bringing me my daughter whom I have just saved from the flames. Good-by!


They say the poor countess is very ill. The doctor says it is angina pectoris.


Angina? Oh, that’s a terrible illness!


They say that the rivals are reconciled, thanks to the angina...


The count is pathetic, they say. He cried like a child when the doctor told him the case was dangerous.


Oh, it would be a terrible loss, she is an enchanting woman.


You are speaking of the poor countess? I sent to ask for news, and hear that she is a little better. Oh, she is certainly the most charming woman in the world. We belong to different camps, but that does not prevent my esteeming her as she deserves. She is very unfortunate! Your information may be better than mine, but I know on good authority that this doctor is a very learned and able man. He is private physician to the Queen of Spain.


I think it is delightful,


What? What’s that?


The Emperor returns these Austrian banners, friendly banners gone astray and found on a wrong path,


Charming, charming!


The path to Warsaw, perhaps,


Most Gracious Sovereign and Emperor! Moscow, our ancient capital, the New Jerusalem, receives her Christ as a mother receives her zealous sons into her arms, and through the gathering mists, foreseeing the brilliant glory of thy rule, sings in exultation, ‘Hosanna, blessed is he that cometh!’


Let the bold and insolent Goliath...


Let the bold and insolent Goliath from the borders of France encompass the realms of Russia with death-bearing terrors; humble Faith, the sling of the Russian David, shall suddenly smite his head in his bloodthirsty pride. This icon of the Venerable Sergius, the servant of God and zealous champion of old of our country’s weal, is offered to Your Imperial Majesty. I grieve that my waning strength prevents rejoicing in the sight of your most gracious presence. I raise fervent prayers to Heaven that the Almighty may exalt the race of the just, and mercifully fulfill the desires of Your Majesty.


What force! What a style!


You will see, that tomorrow, on the Emperor’s birthday, we shall receive news. I have a favorable presentiment!


What a wonderful coincidence! Just during the service. But what a loss Kutáysov is! How sorry I am!


What did I tell about Kutúzov? I always said he was the only man capable of defeating Napoleon.


Fancy the Emperor’s position!


I only wonder that the fate of Russia could have been entrusted to such a man.


Prince Kutúzov’s adjutant has brought me a letter in which he demands police officers to guide the army to the Ryazán road. He writes that he is regretfully abandoning Moscow. Sire! Kutúzov’s action decides the fate of the capital and of your empire! Russia will shudder to learn of the abandonment of the city in which her greatness is centered and in which lie the ashes of your ancestors! I shall follow the army. I have had everything removed, and it only remains for me to weep over the fate of my fatherland.


Prince Michael Ilariónovich! Since the twenty-ninth of August I have received no communication from you, yet on the first of September I received from the commander in chief of Moscow, via Yaroslávl, the sad news that you, with the army, have decided to abandon Moscow. You can yourself imagine the effect this news has had on me, and your silence increases my astonishment. I am sending this by Adjutant-General Prince Volkónski, to hear from you the situation of the army and the reasons that have induced you to take this melancholy decision.


Have you brought me sad news, Colonel?


Very sad, sire. The abandonment of Moscow.


Have they surrendered my ancient capital without a battle? Has the enemy entered the city?


Yes, sire, and Moscow is now in ashes. I left it all in flames,


I see, Colonel, from all that is happening, that Providence requires great sacrifices of us... I am ready to submit myself in all things to His will; but tell me, Michaud, how did you leave the army when it saw my ancient capital abandoned without a battle? Did you not notice discouragement?...


Sire, will you allow me to speak frankly as befits a loyal soldier?


Colonel, I always require it. Conceal nothing from me, I wish to know absolutely how things are.


Sire! sire, I left the whole army, from its chiefs to the lowest soldier, without exception in desperate and agonized terror...


How is that? Would misfortune make my Russians lose heart?... Never!


Sire, they are only afraid lest Your Majesty, in the goodness of your heart, should allow yourself to be persuaded to make peace. They are burning for the combat, and to prove to Your Majesty by the sacrifice of their lives how devoted they are....


Ah! You set me at ease, Colonel. Well, then, go back to the army, and tell our brave men and all my good subjects wherever you go that when I have not a soldier left I shall put myself at the head of my beloved nobility and my good peasants and so use the last resources of my empire. It still offers me more than my enemies suppose, but should it ever be ordained by Divine Providence, that my dynasty should cease to reign on the throne of my ancestors, then after exhausting all the means at my command, I shall let my beard grow to here and go and eat potatoes with the meanest of my peasants, rather than sign the disgrace of my country and of my beloved people whose sacrifices I know how to appreciate. Colonel Michaud, do not forget what I say to you here, perhaps we may recall it with pleasure someday... Napoleon or I. We can no longer both reign together. I have learned to know him, and he will not deceive me any more....


Sire! Your Majesty is at this moment signing the glory of the nation and the salvation of Europe!


You are Count Ilyá Rostóv’s son? My wife was a great friend of your mother’s. We are at home on Thursdays—today is Thursday, so please come and see us quite informally,


better late than never


Which lady?


A charming lady, a divine one. Her eyes are blue, her mouth coral and ivory; her figure like Diana’s.... Ah, Nikíta Iványch!


Anna Ignátyevna wants to see you, Nicholas. Come, Nicholas! You know you let me call you so?


Oh, yes, Aunt. Who is she?


Anna Ignátyevna Malvíntseva. She has heard from her niece how you rescued her.... Can you guess?


I rescued such a lot of them!


Her niece, Princess Bolkónskaya. She is here in Vorónezh with her aunt. Oho! How you blush. Why, are...?


Not a bit! Please don’t, Aunt!


Very well, very well!... Oh, what a fellow you are!


Very pleased, mon cher. Pray come and see me.


Do you know, dear boy, that really would be the match for you: would you like me to arrange it?


Whom do you mean, Aunt?


I will make a match for you with the princess. Catherine Petróvna speaks of Lily, but I say, no—the princess! Do you want me to do it? I am sure your mother will be grateful to me. What a charming girl she is, really! And she is not at all so plain, either.


Not at all. As befits a soldier, Aunt, I don’t force myself on anyone or refuse anything,


Well then, remember, this is not a joke!


Of course not!


Yes, yes. But, my dear boy, among other things you are too attentive to the other, the blonde. One is sorry for the husband, really....


Oh no, we are good friends with him. But what nonsense I have been saying to the governor’s wife! She will really begin to arrange a match... and Sónya...?


Well then, remember!


But see here, to tell the truth, Aunt...


What is it, my dear? Come, let’s sit down here,


You see, Aunt, Mamma has long wanted me to marry an heiress, but the very idea of marrying for money is repugnant to me.


Oh yes, I understand,


But Princess Bolkónskaya—that’s another matter. I will tell you the truth. In the first place I like her very much, I feel drawn to her; and then, after I met her under such circumstances—so strangely, the idea often occurred to me: ‘This is fate.’ Especially if you remember that Mamma had long been thinking of it; but I had never happened to meet her before, somehow it had always happened that we did not meet. And as long as my sister Natásha was engaged to her brother it was of course out of the question for me to think of marrying her. And it must needs happen that I should meet her just when Natásha’s engagement had been broken off... and then everything... So you see... I never told this to anyone and never will, only to you. You know Sónya, my cousin? I love her, and promised to marry her, and will do so.... So you see there can be no question about—


My dear boy, what a way to look at it! You know Sónya has nothing and you yourself say your Papa’s affairs are in a very bad way. And what about your mother? It would kill her, that’s one thing. And what sort of life would it be for Sónya—if she’s a girl with a heart? Your mother in despair, and you all ruined.... No, my dear, you and Sónya ought to understand that.


All the same, Aunt, it is impossible. Besides, would the princess have me? And besides, she is now in mourning. How can one think of it!


But you don’t suppose I’m going to get you married at once? There is always a right way of doing things,


What a matchmaker you are, Aunt...


You have met him, Aunt?


Either black is particularly becoming to her or she really has greatly improved without my having noticed it. And above all, what tact and grace!


Have you seen the princess?


There is one thing I wanted to tell you, Princess. It is that if your brother, Prince Andrew Nikoláevich, were not living, it would have been at once announced in the Gazette, as he is a colonel. And I have known so many cases of a splinter wound either proving fatal at once or being very slight. We must hope for the best, and I am sure...


Oh, that would be so dread...


She must be a wonderful woman. A real angel! Why am I not free? Why was I in such a hurry with Sónya?


How she prayed! It was plain that her whole soul was in her prayer. Yes, that was the prayer that moves mountains, and I am sure her prayer will be answered. Why don’t I pray for what I want? What do I want? To be free, released from Sónya... She was right. She was right. Nothing but misfortune can come of marrying Sónya. Muddles, grief for Mamma... business difficulties... muddles, terrible muddles! Besides, I don’t love her—not as I should. O, God! release me from this dreadful, inextricable position! Yes, prayer can move mountains, but one must have faith and not pray as Natásha and I used to as children, that the snow might turn into sugar—and then run out into the yard to see whether it had done so. No, but I am not praying for trifles now. Blockhead! Why do you come in without being called?


From the governor. A courier has arrived and there’s a letter for you.


Well, all right, thanks. You can go! No, it’s not possible!


It would be too painful to me to think that I might be a cause of sorrow or discord in the family that has been so good to me and my love has no aim but the happiness of those I love; so, Nicholas, I beg you to consider yourself free, and to be assured that, in spite of everything, no one can love you more than does


I shall not be at peace till you promise me this.


Natásha, what are you about? Come here!


Sónya, will he live? Sónya, how happy I am, and how unhappy!... Sónya, dovey, everything is as it used to be. If only he lives! He cannot... because... because... of...


Yes! I knew it! Thank God! He will live.


O, Natásha!


What? What is it?


It’s that, that... You remember. You remember when I looked in the mirror for you... at Otrádnoe at Christmas? Do you remember what I saw?


Yes, yes!


You remember? I saw it then and told everybody, you and Dunyásha. I saw him lying on a bed, and that he had his eyes closed and was covered just with a pink quilt, and that his hands were folded,


Yes, yes, it really was pink! But what does it mean?


Oh, I don’t know, it is all so strange,


Sónya! Sónya, won’t you write to Nicholas?


Yes, Mamma, I will write,


was protecting a woman, to protect a woman who was being insulted was the duty of every man; that...


Put that down, that’s bad... very bad,


Who are you?


I know that man,


You cannot know me, General, I have never seen you...


He is a Russian spy,


No, monseigneur. No, monseigneur, you cannot have known me. I am a militia officer and have not quitted Moscow.


Your name?


Bezúkhov.


What proof have I that you are not lying?


Monseigneur!


How can you show me that you are telling the truth? You are not what you say,


Yes, of course!


In couples,


Sharpshooters of the 86th, forward!


That will teach them to start fires,


Well, then, mates... that very prince who...


You’ve seen a lot of trouble, sir, eh? Eh, lad, don’t fret! Don’t fret, friend—‘suffer an hour, live for an age!’ that’s how it is, my dear fellow. And here we live, thank heaven, without offense. Among these folk, too, there are good men as well as bad. Eh, you rascal! So you’ve come, you rascal? She remembers... Now, now, that’ll do!


Here, eat a bit, sir. We had soup for dinner and the potatoes are grand! Well, are they all right? You should do like this. The potatoes are grand! Eat some like that!


Oh, I’m all right, but why did they shoot those poor fellows? The last one was hardly twenty.


Tss, tt...! Ah, what a sin... what a sin! How was it, sir, that you stayed in Moscow?


I didn’t think they would come so soon. I stayed accidentally,


And how did they arrest you, dear lad? At your house?


No, I went to look at the fire, and they arrested me there, and tried me as an incendiary.


Where there’s law there’s injustice,


And have you been here long?


I? It was last Sunday they took me, out of a hospital in Moscow.


Why, are you a soldier then?


Yes, we are soldiers of the Ápsheron regiment. I was dying of fever. We weren’t told anything. There were some twenty of us lying there. We had no idea, never guessed at all.


And do you feel sad here?


How can one help it, lad? My name is Platón, and the surname is Karatáev. They call me ‘little falcon’ in the regiment. How is one to help feeling sad? Moscow—she’s the mother of cities. How can one see all this and not feel sad? But ‘the maggot gnaws the cabbage, yet dies first’; that’s what the old folks used to tell us,


What? What did you say?


Who? I? I say things happen not as we plan but as God judges. Well, and you, have you a family estate, sir? And a house? So you have abundance, then? And a housewife? And your old parents, are they still living?


A wife for counsel, a mother-in-law for welcome, but there’s none as dear as one’s own mother! Well, and have you little ones? Never mind! You’re young folks yet, and please God may still have some. The great thing is to live in harmony....


But it’s all the same now,


Ah, my dear fellow! never decline a prison or a beggar’s sack! Well, my dear fellow, I was still living at home. We had a well-to-do homestead, plenty of land, we peasants lived well and our house was one to thank God for. When Father and we went out mowing there were seven of us. We lived well. We were real peasants. It so happened... Well, lad, we thought it was a misfortune but it turned out a blessing! If it had not been for my sin, my brother would have had to go as a soldier. But he, my younger brother, had five little ones, while I, you see, only left a wife behind. We had a little girl, but God took her before I went as a soldier. I come home on leave and I’ll tell you how it was, I look and see that they are living better than before. The yard full of cattle, the women at home, two brothers away earning wages, and only Michael the youngest, at home. Father, he says, ‘All my children are the same to me: it hurts the same whichever finger gets bitten. But if Platón hadn’t been shaved for a soldier, Michael would have had to go.’ Michael,’ he says, ‘come here and bow down to his feet; and you, young woman, you bow down too; and you, grandchildren, also bow down before him! Do you understand?’ he says. That’s how it is, dear fellow. Fate looks for a head. But we are always judging, ‘that’s not well—that’s not right!’ Our luck is like water in a dragnet: you pull at it and it bulges, but when you’ve drawn it out it’s empty! That’s how it is. Well, I think you must be sleepy. Lord Jesus Christ, holy Saint Nicholas, Frola and Lavra! Lord Jesus Christ, holy Saint Nicholas, Frola and Lavra! Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and save us! That’s the way. Lay me down like a stone, O God, and raise me up like a loaf,


What prayer was that you were saying?


Eh? What was I saying? I was praying. Don’t you pray?


Yes, I do. But what was that you said: Frola and Lavra?


Well, of course, the horses’ saints. One must pity the animals too. Eh, the rascal! Now you’ve curled up and got warm, you daughter of a bitch!


Lord, lay me down as a stone and raise me up as a loaf! I lay down and curled up, I get up and shake myself.


A soldier on leave—a shirt outside breeches,


I have found out everything, your excellency: the Rostóvs are staying at the merchant Brónnikov’s house, in the Square not far from here, right above the Vólga,


How is the prince?


His excellency is staying in the same house with them.


Then he is alive. How is he?


The servants say he is still the same.


This way, this way!


Mon enfant! je vous aime et vous connais depuis longtemps.


How is he?


The doctor says that he is not in danger,


Where is he? Can I see him—can I?


One moment, Princess, one moment, my dear! Is this his son? There will be room for everybody, this is a big house. Oh, what a lovely boy!


This is my niece. You don’t know her, Princess?


Where is he?


He is downstairs. Natásha is with him. We have sent to ask. I think you must be tired, Princess.


Come, come to him, Mary,


How...


But how is his wound? What is his general condition?


You, you... will see,


How has his whole illness gone? Is it long since he grew worse? When did this happen?


But two days ago this suddenly happened. I don’t know why, but you will see what he is like.


Is he weaker? Thinner?


No, it’s not that, but worse. You will see. O, Mary, he is too good, he cannot, cannot live, because...


How are you, Mary? How did you manage to get here? And have you brought little Nicholas?


How are you now?


That, my dear, you must ask the doctor. Merci, chère amie, d’être venue.


There, you see how strangely fate has brought us together. She looks after me all the time.


Mary came by way of Ryazán,


Really?


They told her that all Moscow has been burned down, and that...


Yes, they say it’s burned. It’s a great pity. And so you have met Count Nicholas, Mary? He wrote here that he took a great liking to you. If you liked him too, it would be a good thing for you to get married,


Why talk of me? Andrew, would you like... would you like to see little Nicholas? He is always talking about you!


Yes, I shall be very glad to see him. Is he quite well? Is it about Nicholas? Mary, you know the Gosp...


What did you say?


Nothing. You mustn’t cry here,


This suddenly happened,


Ah, she has come!


Can it or can it not be? Can fate have brought me to her so strangely only for me to die?... Is it possible that the truth of life has been revealed to me only to show me that I have spent my life in falsity? I love her more than anything in the world! But what am I to do if I love her?


You are not asleep?


No, I have been looking at you a long time. I felt you come in. No one else gives me that sense of soft tranquillity that you do... that light. I want to weep for joy. Natásha, I love you too much! More than anything in the world.


And I! Why too much?


Why too much?... Well, what do you, what do you feel in your soul, your whole soul—shall I live? What do you think?


I am sure of it, sure!


How good it would be!


But you have not slept. Try to sleep... please!


Love? What is love? Love hinders death. Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love. Everything is united by it alone. Love is God, and to die means that I, a particle of love, shall return to the general and eternal source.


Yes, it was death! I died—and woke up. Yes, death is an awakening!


Is it over?


Where has he gone? Where is he now?...


This is the cause!


I should be cursed by posterity were I looked on as the initiator of a settlement of any sort. Such is the present spirit of my nation.


If I did not know you I should think you did not want what you are asking for. I need only advise anything and his Highness is sure to do the opposite,


All right—all right. I haven’t time just now,


Gone away,


No, and the general’s out too.


No, he’s gone out.


But where is it?


Why, there, over at Échkino,


What, outside our line?


They’ve put two regiments as outposts, and they’re having such a spree there, it’s awful! Two bands and three sets of singers!


Ha, ha, ha! Bravo, Nicholas Iványch! Ha, ha, ha!


You think he went off just by chance? It was a trick. It was done on purpose to get Konovnítsyn into trouble. You’ll see what a mess there’ll be tomorrow.


How! Not rec...


What sort of another blackguard are you? I’ll have you shot! Scoundrels!


Now, remember, if you have been lying I’ll have you hanged like a dog; but if it’s true you shall have a hundred gold pieces!


Oh, it is really too late,


I am sure that rascal was lying,


They can still be called back,


Eh? Really... what do you think? Should we let them go on or not? Will you have them fetched back? Fetch them back, fetch them back! It will be too late. It is quite light.


Mount! Forward, with God’s aid!


Hurrah-ah-ah!


I prefer not to take lessons from anyone, but I can die with my men as well as anybody,


The word attack is always on your tongue, but you don’t see that we are unable to execute complicated maneuvers. We couldn’t take Murat prisoner this morning or get to the place in time, and nothing can be done now! You see! They are asking to attack and making plans of all kinds, but as soon as one gets to business nothing is ready, and the enemy, forewarned, takes measures accordingly.


He’s having a little fun at my expense. It is not too late yet, your Highness—the enemy has not gone away—if you were to order an attack! If not, the Guards will not so much as see a little smoke.


That’s how everything is done with us, all topsy-turvy!


INHABITANTS OF MOSCOW! Your misfortunes are cruel, but His Majesty the Emperor and King desires to arrest their course. Terrible examples have taught you how he punishes disobedience and crime. Strict measures have been taken to put an end to disorder and to re-establish public security. A paternal administration, chosen from among yourselves, will form your municipality or city government. It will take care of you, of your needs, and of your welfare. Its members will be distinguished by a red ribbon worn across the shoulder, and the mayor of the city will wear a white belt as well. But when not on duty they will only wear a red ribbon round the left arm.


What sunshine, Monsieur Kiril! Eh? Just like spring! To be on the march in such weather...


Besides, Monsieur Kiril, you have only to say a word to the captain, you know. He is a man who never forgets anything. Speak to the captain when he makes his round, he will do anything for you. 'You see, St. Thomas,' he said to me the other day. 'Monsieur Kiril is a man of education, who speaks French. He is a Russian seigneur who has had misfortunes, but he is a man. He knows what’s what.... If he wants anything and asks me, he won’t get a refusal. When one has studied, you see, one likes education and well-bred people.' It is for your sake I mention it, Monsieur Kiril. The other day if it had not been for you that affair would have ended ill.


Ready, ready, dear fellow! A promise is own brother to performance! I said Friday and here it is, ready. See, it fits well! You see, dear man, this is not a sewing shop, and I had no proper tools; and, as they say, one needs a tool even to kill a louse,


It’s good, quite good, thank you, but there must be some linen left over.


It will fit better still when it sets to your body. You’ll be nice and comfortable....


Thanks, thanks, old fellow.... But the bits left over? But give me the pieces that are over.


What does he want the bits for? They’d make fine leg bands for us. Well, never mind. Oh dear!


Platoche! Eh, Platoche! Keep them yourself!


There, look at that. People said they were not Christians, but they too have souls. It’s what the old folk used to say: ‘A sweating hand’s an open hand, a dry hand’s close.’ He’s naked, but yet he’s given it back. But they’ll make grand leg bands, dear friend,


Russia and summer weather are not bound together,


You know, Sokolóv, they are not all going away! They have a hospital here. You may be better off than we others,


O Lord! Oh, it will be the death of me! O Lord!


I’ll go and ask them again directly. Corporal, what will they do with the sick man?... There it is!... It again!...


Pass on, pass on! What now? He’ll manage to walk, devil take him! Pass on, pass on!


But he is dying,


Be so good...


What are you disputing about? What does it matter whether it is St. Nicholas or St. Blasius? You see it’s burned down, and there’s an end of it.... What are you pushing for? Isn’t the road wide enough?


Oh, oh, oh! What have they done? All beyond the river, and Zúbova, and in the Krémlin.... Just look! There’s not half of it left. Yes, I told you—the whole quarter beyond the river, and so it is.


Well, you know it’s burned, so what’s the use of talking?


Ah, the villains! What heathens! Yes; dead, dead, so he is... And smeared with something!


Go on! What the devil... Go on! Thirty thousand devils!...


What crowds! Just look at the crowds!... They’ve loaded goods even on the cannon! Look there, those are furs! Just see what the blackguards have looted.... There! See what that one has behind in the cart.... Why, those are settings taken from some icons, by heaven!... Oh, the rascals!... See how that fellow has loaded himself up, he can hardly walk! Good lord, they’ve even grabbed those chaises!... See that fellow there sitting on the trunks.... Heavens! They’re fighting. That’s right, hit him on the snout—on his snout! Like this, we shan’t get away before evening. Look, look there.... Why, that must be Napoleon’s own. See what horses! And the monograms with a crown! It’s like a portable house.... That fellow’s dropped his sack and doesn’t see it. Fighting again... A woman with a baby, and not bad-looking either! Yes, I dare say, that’s the way they’ll let you pass.... Just look, there’s no end to it. Russian wenches, by heaven, so they are! In carriages—see how comfortably they’ve settled themselves!


Ha-ha-ha! The soldier did not let me pass. They took me and shut me up. They hold me captive. What, me? Me? My immortal soul? Ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha!...


And all that is me, all that is within me, and it is all I! And they caught all that and put it into a shed boarded up with planks!


The general on duty, quick! It’s very important!


He has been very unwell since the evening and this is the third night he has not slept. You should wake the captain first.


But this is very important, from General Dokhtúrov,


Your honor, your honor! A courier.


What? What’s that? From whom?


From Dokhtúrov and from Alexéy Petróvich. Napoleon is at Formínsk,


I don’t like waking him. He is very ill. Perhaps this is only a rumor.


Here is the dispatch. My orders are to give it at once to the general on duty.


Wait a moment, I’ll light a candle. You damned rascal, where do you always hide it? I’ve found it, I’ve found it! Oh, the nasty beasts!


Who gave the report?


The news is reliable. Prisoners, Cossacks, and the scouts all say the same thing.


There’s nothing to be done, we’ll have to wake him. Peter Petróvich! To the General Staff!


Well, what is it? From whom? Did you get here quickly? Let us go to his Highness.


They must understand that we can only lose by taking the offensive. Patience and time are my warriors, my champions,


They want to run to see how they have wounded it. Wait and we shall see! Continual maneuvers, continual advances! What for? Only to distinguish themselves! As if fighting were fun. They are like children from whom one can’t get any sensible account of what has happened because they all want to show how well they can fight. But that’s not what is needed now. And what ingenious maneuvers they all propose to me! It seems to them that when they have thought of two or three contingencies they have foreseen everything. But the contingencies are endless.


Eh, who’s there? Come in, come in! What news? Who brought it?


There can be no doubt about it, your Highness.


Call him in, call him here. Tell me, tell me, friend, come nearer—nearer. What news have you brought me? Eh? That Napoleon has left Moscow? Are you sure? Eh? Speak quicker, quicker! Don’t torture me! O Lord, my Creator, Thou has heard our prayer... Russia is saved. I thank Thee, O Lord!


No, bwother, I have gwown mustaches myself,


Oh, the devil!


There’s someone coming,


There are two, an officer and a Cossack. But it is not presupposable that it is the lieutenant colonel himself,


From the general. Please excuse its not being quite dry. There, they kept telling us: ‘It’s dangerous, it’s dangerous,’ But Komaróv and I were prepared. We have each of us two pistols.... But what’s this? A prisoner? You’ve already been in action? May I speak to him?


Wostóv! Pétya! Why didn’t you say who you were?


Well, I am glad to see you. Michael Feoklítych, this is again fwom that German, you know. He is serving under him. If we don’t take it tomowwow, he’ll snatch it fwom under our noses,


Will there be any orders, your honor? or shall I remain with your honor?


Orders? But can you stay till tomowwow?


Oh, please... May I stay with you?


But, just what did the genewal tell you? To weturn at once?


He gave me no instructions. I think I could?


Well, all wight. Well, old fellow, lead us to Shámshevo.


Bwing the prisoner here,


Whether Dólokhov comes or not, we must seize it, eh?


It is a very suitable spot,


We’ll send the infantwy down by the swamps. They’ll cweep up to the garden; you’ll wide up fwom there with the Cossacks and I with my hussars fwom here. And at the signal shot...


The hollow is impassable—there’s a swamp there. The horses would sink. We must ride round more to the left....


Why, that’s our Tíkhon,


So it is! It is! The wascal!


He’ll get away! Smart, that!


What a beast! What has he been doing all this time?


Who is he?


He’s our plastún. I sent him to capture a ‘tongue.’


Oh, yes,


We don’t do the French any harm. We only fooled about with the lads for fun, you know! We killed a score or so of ‘more-orderers,’ but we did no harm else....


It won’t hurt that devil—he’s as strong as a horse!


Hallo, mate! Never again? Gave you a twist?


Now, my lad, we’ll go and get dwy,


Well, where did you disappear to?


Where did I disappear to? I went to get Frenchmen,


Why did you push yourself in there by daylight? You ass! Well, why haven’t you taken one?


Oh, I took one all right,


Where is he?


You see, I took him first thing at dawn. I took him into the forest. Then I see he’s no good and think I’ll go and fetch a likelier one.


You see?... What a wogue—it’s just as I thought. Why didn’t you bwing that one?


What was the good of bringing him? that one wouldn’t have done for you. As if I don’t know what sort you want!


What a bwute you are!... Well?


I went for another one, and I crept like this through the wood and lay down.


One turned up and I grabbed him, like this.


Come along to the colonel. What are you up to? Christ be with you!


Yes, we saw from the hill how you took to your heels through the puddles!


Don’t play the fool! Why didn’t you bwing the first one?


Oh, but he was a regular good-for-nothing. The clothes on him—poor stuff! How could I bring him? And so rude, your honor! Why, he says: ‘I’m a general’s son myself, I won’t go!’ he says.


You are a bwute! I wanted to question...


But I questioned him. He said he didn’t know much. There are a lot of us,’ he says, ‘but all poor stuff—only soldiers in name,’ he says. ‘Shout loud at them,’ he says, ‘and you’ll take them all,


I’ll give you a hundwed sharp lashes—that’ll teach you to play the fool!


But why are you angry? just as if I’d never seen your Frenchmen! Only wait till it gets dark and I’ll fetch you any of them you want—three if you like.


Well, let’s go,


Well, tell me about yourself.


So then what do you think, Vasíli Dmítrich? It’s all right my staying a day with you? You see I was told to find out—well, I am finding out.... Only do let me into the very... into the chief... I don’t want a reward.... But I want...


Into the vewy chief...


Only, please let me command something, so that I may really command... What would it be to you?... Oh, you want a knife? Please keep it. I have several like it. Heavens! I was quite forgetting! I have some raisins, fine ones; you know, seedless ones. We have a new sutler and he has such capital things. I bought ten pounds. I am used to something sweet. Would you like some?... Have some, gentlemen, have some! You want a coffeepot, don’t you? I bought a capital one from our sutler! He has splendid things. And he’s very honest, that’s the chief thing. I’ll be sure to send it to you. Or perhaps your flints are giving out, or are worn out—that happens sometimes, you know. I have brought some with me, here they are a hundred flints. I bought them very cheap. Please take as many as you want, or all if you like.... It’s capital for us here, but what of him? Where have they put him? Have they fed him? Haven’t they hurt his feelings? I might ask,


He’s a boy himself and so he pities the boy.


I’ll show them tomorrow whether I’m a boy. Will it seem odd if I ask? Well, never mind! May I call in that boy who was taken prisoner and give him something to eat?... Perhaps...


Yes, he’s a poor little fellow. Call him in. His name is Vincent Bosse. Have him fetched.


I’ll call him,


Yes, yes, call him. A poor little fellow,


Let me kiss you, dear old fellow! Oh, how fine, how splendid! Bosse! Vincent!


Who do you want, sir?


Ah, Vesénny?


He is warming himself there by the bonfire. Ho, Vesénya! Vesénya!—Vesénny!


He’s a smart lad. We gave him something to eat a while ago. He was awfully hungry!


Ah, c’est vous! Voulez-vous manger? N’ayez pas peur, on ne vous fera pas de mal. Entrez, entrez.


Merci, monsieur,


Come in, come in! Oh, what can I do for him?


That’s so. But we must know what troops they are and their numbers. It will be necessary to go there. We can’t start the affair without knowing for certain how many there are. I like to work accurately. Here now—wouldn’t one of these gentlemen like to ride over to the French camp with me? I have brought a spare uniform.


I, I... I’ll go with you!


There’s no need for you to go at all, and as for him, I won’t let him go on any account.


I like that! Why shouldn’t I go?


Because it’s useless.


Well, you must excuse me, because... because... I shall go, and that’s all. You’ll take me, won’t you?


Why not? Have you had that youngster with you long?


He was taken today but he knows nothing. I’m keeping him with me.


Yes, and where do you put the others?


Where? I send them away and take a weceipt for them. And I say boldly that I have not a single man’s life on my conscience. Would it be difficult for you to send thirty or thwee hundwed men to town under escort, instead of staining—I speak bluntly—staining the honor of a soldier?


That kind of amiable talk would be suitable from this young count of sixteen, but it’s time for you to drop it.


Why, I’ve not said anything! I only say that I’ll certainly go with you,


But for you and me, old fellow, it’s time to drop these amenities. Now, why have you kept this lad? Because you are sorry for him! Don’t we know those ‘receipts’ of yours? You send a hundred men away, and thirty get there. The rest either starve or get killed. So isn’t it all the same not to send them?


That’s not the point. I’m not going to discuss the matter. I do not wish to take it on my conscience. You say they’ll die. All wight. Only not by my fault!


Who has told them not to capture me these twenty times over? But if they did catch me they’d string me up to an aspen tree, and with all your chivalry just the same. However, we must get to work. Tell the Cossack to fetch my kit. I have two French uniforms in it. Well, are you coming with me?


I? Yes, yes, certainly! If grown-up, distinguished men think so, it must be necessary and right. But above all Denísov must not dare to imagine that I’ll obey him and that he can order me about. I will certainly go to the French camp with Dólokhov. If he can, so can I! For you’ll admit that if we don’t know for sure how many of them there are... hundreds of lives may depend on it, while there are only two of us. Besides, I want to go very much and certainly will go, so don’t hinder me. It will only make things worse.... If we’re caught, I won’t be taken alive! I have a pistol,


Don’t talk Russian,


Qui vive?


Lanciers du 6-me,


Mot d’ordre.


Dites donc, le colonel Gérard est ici?


Mot d’ordre,


Quand un officier fait sa ronde, les sentinelles ne demandent pas le mot d’ordre... Je vous demande si le colonel est ici.


Oh, he’s a hard nut to crack. He’ll make them get a move on, those fellows!


Bonjour, messieurs!


Is that you, Clément? Where the devil...? If you were counting on the evening soup, you have come too late,


Those brigands are everywhere,


but probably they would not dare to attack large detachments?


Well, now he’ll come away,


A horrid business dragging these corpses about with one! It would be better to shoot such rabble,


Will they bring our horses or not?


Good evening, gentlemen. Do you hear? Well now, good-by. Tell Denísov, ‘at the first shot at daybreak,’


Really! you are such a hero! Oh, how fine, how splendid! How I love you!


All right, all right!


Thank God! Yes, thank God! But, devil take you, I haven’t slept because of you! Well, thank God. Now lie down. We can still get a nap before morning.


But... no. I don’t want to sleep yet. Besides I know myself, if I fall asleep it’s finished. And then I am used to not sleeping before a battle.


Well, Karabákh! We’ll do some service tomorrow,


Why aren’t you asleep, sir?


No, ah... Likhachëv—isn’t that your name? Do you know I have only just come back! We’ve been into the French camp.


Well, you should get some sleep now,


No, I am used to this. I say, aren’t the flints in your pistols worn out? I brought some with me. Don’t you want any? You can have some. Because I am accustomed to doing everything accurately. Some fellows do things just anyhow, without preparation, and then they’re sorry for it afterwards. I don’t like that.


Just so,


Oh yes, another thing! Please, my dear fellow, will you sharpen my saber for me? It’s got bl... Can you do it?


Of course I can.


I say! Are the lads asleep?


Some are, and some aren’t—like us.


Well, and that boy?


Vesénny? Oh, he’s thrown himself down there in the passage. Fast asleep after his fright. He was that glad!


What are you sharpening?


Why, this gentleman’s saber.


That’s right. Was the cup left here?


There, by the wheel!


It must be daylight soon,


Oh—why, that was in a dream! It’s in my ears. But perhaps it’s music of my own. Well, go on, my music! Now!... Oh, this is delightful! As much as I like and as I like! Now softly, softly die away! Now fuller, more joyful. Still more and more joyful! Now voices join in!


It’s ready, your honor; you can split a Frenchman in half with it!


It’s getting light, it’s really getting light!


And here’s the commander,


Well, is ev’wything weady? Bwing the horses.


Vasíli Dmítrich, entrust me with some commission! Please... for God’s sake...!


I ask one thing of you, to obey me and not shove yourself forward anywhere.


The signal!


Hurrah!... Lads!... ours!


Go round! Wait for the infantry!


Wait?... Hurrah-ah-ah!


Done for!


Killed?


Done for! We won’t take them!


I am used to something sweet. Raisins, fine ones... take them all!


Well, how are you?


How am I? If we grumble at sickness, God won’t grant us death. And so, brother, you see, brother...


And so, brother ten years or more passed by. The old man was living as a convict, submitting as he should and doing no wrong. Only he prayed to God for death. Well, one night the convicts were gathered just as we are, with the old man among them. And they began telling what each was suffering for, and how they had sinned against God. One told how he had taken a life, another had taken two, a third had set a house on fire, while another had simply been a vagrant and had done nothing. So they asked the old man: ‘What are you being punished for, Daddy?’—‘I, my dear brothers,’ said he, ‘am being punished for my own and other men’s sins. But I have not killed anyone or taken anything that was not mine, but have only helped my poorer brothers. I was a merchant, my dear brothers, and had much property. ‘And he went on to tell them all about it in due order. ‘I don’t grieve for myself,’ he says, ‘God, it seems, has chastened me. Only I am sorry for my old wife and the children,’ and the old man began to weep. Now it happened that in the group was the very man who had killed the other merchant. ‘Where did it happen, Daddy?’ he said. ‘When, and in what month?’ He asked all about it and his heart began to ache. So he comes up to the old man like this, and falls down at his feet! ‘You are perishing because of me, Daddy,’ he says. ‘It’s quite true, lads, that this man,’ he says, ‘is being tortured innocently and for nothing! I,’ he says, ‘did that deed, and I put the knife under your head while you were asleep. Forgive me, Daddy,’ he says, ‘for Christ’s sake!’ God will forgive you, we are all sinners in His sight. I suffer for my own sins. What do you think, dear friends? That murderer confessed to the authorities. ‘I have taken six lives,’ he says (he was a great sinner), ‘but what I am most sorry for is this old man. Don’t let him suffer because of me.’ So he confessed and it was all written down and the papers sent off in due form. The place was a long way off, and while they were judging, what with one thing and another, filling in the papers all in due form—the authorities I mean—time passed. The affair reached the Tsar. After a while the Tsar’s decree came: to set the merchant free and give him a compensation that had been awarded. The paper arrived and they began to look for the old man. ‘Where is the old man who has been suffering innocently and in vain? A paper has come from the Tsar!’ so they began looking for him, but God had already forgiven him—he was dead! That’s how it was, dear fellows!


À vos places!


To your places.


The Emperor! The Emperor! The Marshal! The Duke!


What did he say? What did he say?


Life is everything. Life is God. Everything changes and moves and that movement is God. And while there is life there is joy in consciousness of the divine. To love life is to love God. Harder and more blessed than all else is to love this life in one’s sufferings, in innocent sufferings. Wait a bit,


How simple and clear it is. How is it I did not know it before? God is in the midst, and each drop tries to expand so as to reflect Him to the greatest extent. And it grows, merges, disappears from the surface, sinks to the depths, and again emerges. There now, Karatáev has spread out and disappeared. Do you understand, my child?


Do you understand, damn you?


It’s all the same to him. Brigand! Get away!


Ah, he’s come? And Plat—


The Cossacks!


Brothers! Dear fellows! Darlings!


How many?


The second hundred,


Filez, filez!


J’ai assez fait l’empereur; il est temps de faire le général,


C’est grand!


Du sublime (he saw something sublime in himself) au ridicule il n’y a qu’un pas,


I am not going anywhere. Do please just leave me alone!


One thing would be terrible, to bind oneself forever to a suffering man. It would be continual torture.


This can’t go on—it won’t. You will get well—quite well. I agreed, that it would be dreadful if he always continued to suffer. I said it then only because it would have been dreadful for him, but he understood it differently. He thought it would be dreadful for me. He then still wished to live and feared death. And I said it so awkwardly and stupidly! I did not say what I meant. I thought quite differently. Had I said what I thought, I should have said: even if he had to go on dying, to die continually before my eyes, I should have been happy compared with what I am now. Now there is nothing... nobody. Did he know that? No, he did not and never will know it. And now it will never, never be possible to put it right. Terrible for you, but not for me! You know that for me there is nothing in life but you, and to suffer with you is the greatest happiness for me. I love thee!... thee! I love, love...


Come to your Papa at once, please! A misfortune... about Peter Ilýnich... a letter,


Pe... Pétya... Go, go, she... is calling...


Natásha! Natásha!... It’s not true... it’s not true... He’s lying... Natásha! Go away, all of you; it’s not true! Killed!... ha, ha, ha!... It’s not true!


Mummy!... darling!... I am here, my dearest Mummy. My dearest darling... Mummy, my precious!...


Natásha, you love me? Natásha, you would not deceive me? You’ll tell me the whole truth?


My darling Mummy!


How glad I am you have come. You are tired. Won’t you have some tea? You have improved in looks and grown more manly,


Mamma! What are you saying...


Natásha, he is no more, no more!


I don’t want to sleep, Mary, sit by me a little.


You are tired—try to sleep.


No, no. Why did you bring me away? She will be asking for me.


She is much better. She spoke so well today,


Is she like him? Yes, like and yet not like. But she is quite original, strange, new, and unknown. And she loves me. What is in her heart? All that is good. But how? What is her mind like? What does she think about me? Yes, she is splendid! Mary. Mary, you mustn’t think me wicked. No? Mary darling, how I love you! Let us be quite, quite friends.


I give you that column, lads,


How was it you promised not to abandon Moscow without a battle?


And I shall not abandon Moscow without a battle. Yes, I was just saying so myself,


a golden bridge


What were you saying? Ah, the standards!


I thank you all! I thank you all for your hard and faithful service. The victory is complete and Russia will not forget you! Honor to you forever. Lower its head, lower it! Lower, lower, that’s it. Hurrah lads!


Hur-r-rah!


You see, brothers... You see, brothers, I know it’s hard for you, but it can’t be helped! Bear up; it won’t be for long now! We’ll see our visitors off and then we’ll rest. The Tsar won’t forget your service. It is hard for you, but still you are at home while they—you see what they have come to. Worse off than our poorest beggars. While they were strong we didn’t spare ourselves, but now we may even pity them. They are human beings too. Isn’t it so, lads? But after all who asked them here? Serves them right, the bloody bastards!


Now then, all together—shove!


Now then, catch hold in twos! Hand up the lever! That’s it.... Where are you shoving to? Now, all together! But wait a moment, boys... With a song!


Oo-oo-oo-oo! That’s it. All together! Heave away, boys!...


Here, you of the Sixth Company! Devils that you are! Lend a hand... will you? You may want us one of these days. Get along... Falling? What are you stopping for? There now....


What are you up to? There are gentry here; the general himself is in that hut, and you foul-mouthed devils, you brutes, I’ll give it to you! Can’t you make less noise?


There, how that devil hits out! He’s made my face all bloody,


Don’t you like it?


Eh, Makéev! What has become of you, you son of a bitch? Are you lost or have the wolves eaten you? Fetch some more wood! And you, Jackdaw, go and fetch some wood!


Bring it here—that’s fine!


Mother! The dew is cold but clear.... It’s well that I’m a musketeer...


Look out, your soles will fly off! What a fellow you are for dancing!


Right enough, friend. It’s the steam that spoils them,


They’ll soon be issuing us new ones. They say that when we’ve finished hammering them, we’re to receive double kits!


And that son of a bitch Petróv has lagged behind after all, it seems,


I’ve had an eye on him this long while,


Well, he’s a poor sort of soldier.... But in the Third Company they say nine men were missing yesterday. Yes, it’s all very well, but when a man’s feet are frozen how can he walk?


Eh? Don’t talk nonsense!


Do you want to be doing the same?


Well, you know, a plump man gets thin, but for a thin one it’s death. Take me, now! I’ve got no strength left. Tell them to send me to hospital; I’m aching all over; anyway I shan’t be able to keep up.


That’ll do, that’ll do!


What a lot of those Frenchies were taken today, and the fact is that not one of them had what you might call real boots on. They were no more than make-believes.


The Cossacks have taken their boots. They were clearing the hut for the colonel and carried them out. It was pitiful to see them, boys. As they turned them over one seemed still alive and, would you believe it, he jabbered something in their lingo.


But they’re a clean folk, lads, he was white—as white as birchbark—and some of them are such fine fellows, you might think they were nobles.


Well, what do you think? They make soldiers of all classes there.


But they don’t understand our talk at all. I asked him whose subject he was, and he jabbered in his own way. A queer lot!


The man who had wondered at their whiteness

But it’s strange, friends, the peasants at Mozháysk were saying that when they began burying the dead—where the battle was you know—well, those dead had been lying there for nearly a month, and says the peasant, ‘they lie as white as paper, clean, and not as much smell as a puff of powder smoke.’


Was it from the cold?


You’re a clever fellow! From the cold indeed! Why, it was hot. If it had been from the cold, ours would not have rotted either. ‘But,’ he says, ‘go up to ours and they are all rotten and maggoty. So,’ he says, ‘we tie our faces up with kerchiefs and turn our heads away as we drag them off: we can hardly do it. But theirs,’ he says, ‘are white as paper and not so much smell as a whiff of gunpowder.’


It must be from their food. They used to gobble the same food as the gentry.


That was a real battle. It’s the only one worth remembering; but since that... it’s only been tormenting folk.


And do you know, Daddy, the day before yesterday we ran at them and, my word, they didn’t let us get near before they just threw down their muskets and went on their knees. ‘Pardon!’ they say. That’s only one case. They say Plátov took ‘Poleon himself twice. But he didn’t know the right charm. He catches him and catches him—no good! He turns into a bird in his hands and flies away. And there’s no way of killing him either.


You’re a first-class liar, Kiselëv, when I come to look at you!


Liar, indeed! It’s the real truth.


If he fell into my hands, when I’d caught him I’d bury him in the ground with an aspen stake to fix him down. What a lot of men he’s ruined!


Well, anyhow we’re going to end it. He won’t come here again,


Look at the stars. It’s wonderful how they shine! You would think the women had spread out their linen. That’s a sign of a good harvest next year. We shall want some more wood. You warm your back and your belly gets frozen. That’s queer. O Lord! What are you pushing for? Is the fire only for you? Look how he’s sprawling!


Hark at them roaring there in the Fifth Company! and what a lot of them there are!


They’re having such fun. Two Frenchies have turned up. One’s quite frozen and the other’s an awful swaggerer. He’s singing songs....


Oh, I’ll go across and have a look....


A bear, lads,


You won’t do it again, eh? Oh, you fool! Why talk rubbish, lout that you are—a real peasant!


Oh, you fine fellows, my kind, kind friends! These are men! Oh, my brave, kind friends,


Vive Henri Quatre! Vive ce roi valiant! Ce diable à quatre...


Vivarika! Vif-seruvaru! Sedyablyaka!


Qui eut le triple talent, De boire, de battre, Et d’être un vert galant.


Ke... ke-e-e-e, le-trip-ta-la-de-bu-de-ba, e de-tra-va-ga-la


Fine! Just like the Frenchie! Oh, ho ho! Do you want some more to eat? Give him some porridge: it takes a long time to get filled up after starving. They are men too. Even wormwood grows on its own root. O Lord, O Lord! How starry it is! Tremendous! That means a hard frost....


You mean to imply that I have nothing to eat out of.... On the contrary, I can supply you with everything even if you want to give dinner parties,


I meant merely to say what I said.


Your Serene Highness!


the old comedian. You have not only saved Russia, you have saved Europe!


Oh, how good! How splendid! Oh, how good, how splendid! Well, and what then? What am I going to do? Well, I shall live. Ah, how splendid!


What for? Because there is a God, that God without whose will not one hair falls from a man’s head.


Yes, he is a very, very kind man when he is not under the influence of bad people but of people such as myself,


Well, tell me... now, how did you get food?


It’s a pleasure to talk to a man like that; he is not like our provincials,


If all Russians are in the least like you, it is sacrilege to fight such a nation. You, who have suffered so from the French, do not even feel animosity toward them.


You are letting yourself go, my dear fellow,


To give or not to give? I have it and he needs it. But someone else needs it still more. Who needs it most? And perhaps they are both impostors?


Yes, of course that’s true. I don’t need all that at all. By being ruined I have become much richer.


Yes, perhaps. I think so,


Is it possible that he died in the bitter frame of mind he was then in? Is it possible that the meaning of life was not disclosed to him before he died?


Announce me. Perhaps she will see me,


Yes, sir. Please step into the portrait gallery.


This must be one of her companions,


Yes, so this is how we meet again. He spoke of you even at the very last. I was so glad to hear of your safety. It was the first piece of good news we had received for a long time.


Just imagine—I knew nothing about him! I thought he had been killed. All I know I heard at second hand from others. I only know that he fell in with the Rostóvs.... What a strange coincidence!


Do you really not recognize her?


But no, it can’t be! This stern, thin, pale face that looks so much older! It cannot be she. It merely reminds me of her.


Natásha!


No, it’s only the unexpectedness of it,


She has come to stay with me. The count and countess will be here in a few days. The countess is in a dreadful state; but it was necessary for Natásha herself to see a doctor. They insisted on her coming with me.


Yes, is there a family free from sorrow now? You know it happened the very day we were rescued. I saw him. What a delightful boy he was! What can one say or think of as a consolation? Nothing! Why had such a splendid boy, so full of life, to die?


Yes, in these days it would be hard to live without faith...


Yes, yes, that is really true,


Why is it true?


How can you ask why? The thought alone of what awaits...


And because, only one who believes that there is a God ruling us can bear a loss such as hers and... yours.


Yes, yes, and so...? Yes, yes... so he grew tranquil and softened? With all his soul he had always sought one thing—to be perfectly good—so he could not be afraid of death. The faults he had—if he had any—were not of his making. So he did soften?... What a happy thing that he saw you again,


Yes, that was happiness. For me it certainly was happiness. And he... he... he said he was wishing for it at the very moment I entered the room.... We knew nothing of it when we started from Moscow. I did not dare to ask about him. Then suddenly Sónya told me he was traveling with us. I had no idea and could not imagine what state he was in, all I wanted was to see him and be with him,


Well, that’s all—everything,


No, Natásha and I sometimes don’t go to sleep till after two, so please don’t go. I will order supper. Go downstairs, we will come immediately. This is the first time she has talked of him like that.


Do you take vodka, Count? Now tell us about yourself. One hears such improbable wonders about you.


Yes. They even tell me wonders I myself never dreamed of! Mary Abrámovna invited me to her house and kept telling me what had happened, or ought to have happened, to me. Stepán Stepánych also instructed me how I ought to tell of my experiences. In general I have noticed that it is very easy to be an interesting man (I am an interesting man now); people invite me out and tell me all about myself.


We have been told, that you lost two millions in Moscow. Is that true?


But I am three times as rich as before. What I have certainly gained is freedom. And are you building? Yes. Savélich says I must!


Tell me, you did not know of the countess’ death when you decided to remain in Moscow?


No. I heard of it in Orël and you cannot imagine how it shocked me. We were not an exemplary couple, but her death shocked me terribly. When two people quarrel they are always both in fault, and one’s own guilt suddenly becomes terribly serious when the other is no longer alive. And then such a death... without friends and without consolation! I am very, very sorry for her,


Yes, and so you are once more an eligible bachelor. And did you really see and speak to Napoleon, as we have been told?


No, not once! Everybody seems to imagine that being taken prisoner means being Napoleon’s guest. Not only did I never see him but I heard nothing about him—I was in much lower company!


But it’s true that you remained in Moscow to kill Napoleon? I guessed it then when we met at the Súkharev tower, do you remember?


It was an awful sight—children abandoned, some in the flames... One was snatched out before my eyes... and there were women who had their things snatched off and their earrings torn out... Then a patrol arrived and all the men—all those who were not looting, that is—were arrested, and I among them.


I am sure you’re not telling us everything; I am sure you did something... something fine?


No, you can’t understand what I learned from that illiterate man—that simple fellow.


Yes, yes, go on! Where is he?


They killed him almost before my eyes.


People speak of misfortunes and sufferings, but if at this moment I were asked: ‘Would you rather be what you were before you were taken prisoner, or go through all this again?’ then for heaven’s sake let me again have captivity and horseflesh! We imagine that when we are thrown out of our usual ruts all is lost, but it is only then that what is new and good begins. While there is life there is happiness. There is much, much before us. I say this to you,


Yes, yes. I too should wish nothing but to relive it all from the beginning. Yes, and nothing more,


It’s not true, not true! I am not to blame for being alive and wishing to live—nor you either.


What is it, Natásha?


Nothing, nothing. Good night! It is time for bed. Well, good night, Mary! Do you know, I am often afraid that by not speaking of him for fear of not doing justice to our feelings, we forget him.


Is it possible to forget?


It did me so much good to tell all about it today. It was hard and painful, but good, very good! I am sure he really loved him. That is why I told him... Was it all right?


To tell Pierre? Oh, yes. What a splendid man he is!


Do you know, Mary... he has somehow grown so clean, smooth, and fresh—as if he had just come out of a Russian bath; do you understand? Out of a moral bath. Isn’t it true?


Yes. He has greatly improved.


With a short coat and his hair cropped; just as if, well, just as if he had come straight from the bath... Papa used to...


I understand why he liked no one so much as him,


Yes, and yet he is quite different. They say men are friends when they are quite different. That must be true. Really he is quite unlike him—in everything.


Yes, but he’s wonderful.


Well, good night,


Well, what’s to be done if it cannot be avoided? What’s to be done? Evidently it has to be so. Strange and impossible as such happiness seems, I must do everything that she and I may be man and wife. What, to Petersburg? What is Petersburg? Who is there in Petersburg? Oh, yes, long ago before this happened I did for some reason mean to go to Petersburg. Why? But perhaps I shall go. What a good fellow he is and how attentive, and how he remembers everything, and what a pleasant smile he has! Well, Savélich, do you still not wish to accept your freedom?


What’s the good of freedom to me, your excellency? We lived under the late count—the kingdom of heaven be his!—and we have lived under you too, without ever being wronged.


And your children?


The children will live just the same. With such masters one can live.


But what about my heirs? Supposing I suddenly marry... it might happen,


If I may take the liberty, your excellency, it would be a good thing.


How easy he thinks it. He doesn’t know how terrible it is and how dangerous. Too soon or too late... it is terrible!


So what are your orders? Are you starting tomorrow?


No, I’ll put it off for a bit. I’ll tell you later. You must forgive the trouble I have put you to. But how strange it is that he should not know that now there is no Petersburg for me, and that that must be settled first of all! But probably he knows it well enough and is only pretending. Shall I have a talk with him and see what he thinks? No, another time. Whom do you think? Natásha Rostóva! Do you know her?


I have seen the princess. I heard that they were arranging a match for her with young Rostóv. It would be a very good thing for the Rostóvs, they are said to be utterly ruined.


No; I mean do you know Natásha Rostóva?


I heard about that affair of hers at the time. It was a great pity.


How kind they all are. And this man too. What a fine, good-looking officer and how kind. Fancy bothering about such trifles now! And they actually say he is not honest and takes bribes. What nonsense! Besides, why shouldn’t he take bribes? That’s the way he was brought up, and everybody does it. But what a kind, pleasant face and how he smiles as he looks at me.


Ah, there he is! Let’s see what will come of it!


Mary,


So you are going to Petersburg tomorrow?


No, I am not going. Yes... no... to Petersburg? Tomorrow—but I won’t say good-by yet. I will call round in case you have any commissions for me,


Yes. Yes, I wanted to tell you,


Princess, help me! What am I to do? Can I hope? Princess, my dear friend, listen! I know it all. I know I am not worthy of her, I know it’s impossible to speak of it now. But I want to be a brother to her. No, not that, I don’t, I can’t... Well. I don’t know when I began to love her, but I have loved her and her alone all my life, and I love her so that I cannot imagine life without her. I cannot propose to her at present, but the thought that perhaps she might someday be my wife and that I may be missing that possibility... that possibility... is terrible. Tell me, can I hope? Tell me what I am to do, dear princess!


I am thinking of what you have told me. This is what I will say. You are right that to speak to her of love at present... To speak to her now wouldn’t do,


But what am I to do?


Leave it to me. I know...


Well?... Well?...


I know that she loves... will love you,


What makes you think so? You think I may hope? You think...?


Yes, I think so. Write to her parents, and leave it to me. I will tell her when I can. I wish it to happen and my heart tells me it will.


No, it cannot be! How happy I am! But it can’t be.... How happy I am! No, it can’t be!


Go to Petersburg, that will be best. And I will write to you,


To Petersburg? Go there? Very well, I’ll go. But I may come again tomorrow?


Good-by, Count. I shall look forward very much to your return,


Wasn’t it all a dream? Isn’t Princess Mary mistaken? Am I not too conceited and self-confident? I believe all this—and suddenly Princess Mary will tell her, and she will be sure to smile and say: ‘How strange! He must be deluding himself. Doesn’t he know that he is a man, just a man, while I...? I am something altogether different and higher.’


I may have appeared strange and queer then,


He looks just, yes, just as if he had come out of a Russian bath—in a short coat and with his hair cropped,


He has spoken? Yes? He has spoken? I wanted to listen at the door, but I knew you would tell me. To Petersburg! Mary, tell me what I should do! I am afraid of being bad. Whatever you tell me, I will do. Tell me....


You love him?


Yes,


Then why are you crying? I am happy for your sake,


It won’t be just yet—someday. Think what fun it will be when I am his wife and you marry Nicholas!


Natásha, I have asked you not to speak of that. Let us talk about you.


But why go to Petersburg? But no, no, he must... Yes, Mary, He must....


He ought to have acted in this way and in that way. In this case he did well and in that case badly. He behaved admirably at the beginning of his reign and during 1812, but acted badly by giving a constitution to Poland, forming the Holy Alliance, entrusting power to Arakchéev, favoring Golítsyn and mysticism, and afterwards Shishkóv and Photius. He also acted badly by concerning himself with the active army and disbanding the Semënov regiment.


It would take a dozen pages to enumerate all the reproaches the historians address to him, based on their knowledge of what is good for humanity.


What do these reproaches mean?


Do not the very actions for which the historians praise Alexander I (the liberal attempts at the beginning of his reign, his struggle with Napoleon, the firmness he displayed in 1812 and the campaign of 1813) flow from the same sources—the circumstances of his birth, education, and life—that made his personality what it was and from which the actions for which they blame him (the Holy Alliance, the restoration of Poland, and the reaction of 1820 and later) also flowed?


In what does the substance of those reproaches lie?


It lies in the fact that an historic character like Alexander I, standing on the highest possible pinnacle of human power with the blinding light of history focused upon him; a character exposed to those strongest of all influences: the intrigues, flattery, and self-deception inseparable from power; a character who at every moment of his life felt a responsibility for all that was happening in Europe; and not a fictitious but a live character who like every man had his personal habits, passions, and impulses toward goodness, beauty, and truth—that this character—though not lacking in virtue (the historians do not accuse him of that)—had not the same conception of the welfare of humanity fifty years ago as a present-day professor who from his youth upwards has been occupied with learning: that is, with books and lectures and with taking notes from them.


But even if we assume that fifty years ago Alexander I was mistaken in his view of what was good for the people, we must inevitably assume that the historian who judges Alexander will also after the lapse of some time turn out to be mistaken in his view of what is good for humanity.


This assumption is all the more natural and inevitable because, watching the movement of history, we see that every year and with each new writer, opinion as to what is good for mankind changes; so that what once seemed good, ten years later seems bad, and vice versa.


And what is more, we find at one and the same time quite contradictory views as to what is bad and what is good in history: some people regard giving a constitution to Poland and forming the Holy Alliance as praiseworthy in Alexander, while others regard it as blameworthy.


The activity of Alexander or of Napoleon cannot be called useful or harmful, for it is impossible to say for what it was useful or harmful.


If that activity displeases somebody, this is only because it does not agree with his limited understanding of what is good.


Whether the preservation of my father’s house in Moscow, or the glory of the Russian arms, or the prosperity of the Petersburg and other universities, or the freedom of Poland or the greatness of Russia, or the balance of power in Europe, or a certain kind of European culture called “progress” appear to me to be good or bad, I must admit that besides these things the action of every historic character has other more general purposes inaccessible to me.


But let us assume that what is called science can harmonize all contradictions and possesses an unchanging standard of good and bad by which to try historic characters and events; let us say that Alexander could have done everything differently; let us say that with guidance from those who blame him and who profess to know the ultimate aim of the movement of humanity, he might have arranged matters according to the program his present accusers would have given him—of nationality, freedom, equality, and progress (these, I think, cover the ground).


Let us assume that this program was possible and had then been formulated, and that Alexander had acted on it.


What would then have become of the activity of all those who opposed the tendency that then prevailed in the government—an activity that in the opinion of the historians was good and beneficent?


Their activity would not have existed: there would have been no life, there would have been nothing.


If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, the possibility of life is destroyed.


If we assume as the historians do that great men lead humanity to the attainment of certain ends—the greatness of Russia or of France, the balance of power in Europe, the diffusion of the ideas of the Revolution, general progress, or anything else—then it is impossible to explain the facts of history without introducing the conceptions of chance and genius.


If the aim of the European wars at the beginning of the nineteenth century had been the aggrandizement of Russia, that aim might have been accomplished without all the preceding wars and without the invasion.


If the aim was the aggrandizement of France, that might have been attained without the Revolution and without the Empire.


If the aim was the dissemination of ideas, the printing press could have accomplished that much better than warfare.


If the aim was the progress of civilization, it is easy to see that there are other ways of diffusing civilization more expedient than by the destruction of wealth and of human lives.


Why did it happen in this and not in some other way?


Because it happened so!


Chance created the situation; genius utilized it,


But what is chance?


What is genius?


The words chance and genius do not denote any really existing thing and therefore cannot be defined.


Those words only denote a certain stage of understanding of phenomena.


I do not know why a certain event occurs; I think that I cannot know it; so I do not try to know it and I talk about chance.


I see a force producing effects beyond the scope of ordinary human agencies; I do not understand why this occurs and I talk of genius.


To a herd of rams, the ram the herdsman drives each evening into a special enclosure to feed and that becomes twice as fat as the others must seem to be a genius.


And it must appear an astonishing conjunction of genius with a whole series of extraordinary chances that this ram, who instead of getting into the general fold every evening goes into a special enclosure where there are oats—that this very ram, swelling with fat, is killed for meat.


But the rams need only cease to suppose that all that happens to them happens solely for the attainment of their sheepish aims; they need only admit that what happens to them may also have purposes beyond their ken, and they will at once perceive a unity and coherence in what happened to the ram that was fattened.


Even if they do not know for what purpose they are fattened, they will at least know that all that happened to the ram did not happen accidentally, and will no longer need the conceptions of chance or genius.


Only by renouncing our claim to discern a purpose immediately intelligible to us, and admitting the ultimate purpose to be beyond our ken, may we discern the sequence of experiences in the lives of historic characters and perceive the cause of the effect they produce (incommensurable with ordinary human capabilities), and then the words chance and genius become superfluous.


We need only confess that we do not know the purpose of the European convulsions and that we know only the facts—that is, the murders, first in France, then in Italy, in Africa, in Prussia, in Austria, in Spain, and in Russia—and that the movements from the west to the east and from the east to the west form the essence and purpose of these events, and not only shall we have no need to see exceptional ability and genius in Napoleon and Alexander, but we shall be unable to consider them to be anything but like other men, and we shall not be obliged to have recourse to chance for an explanation of those small events which made these people what they were, but it will be clear that all those small events were inevitable.


By discarding a claim to knowledge of the ultimate purpose, we shall clearly perceive that just as one cannot imagine a blossom or seed for any single plant better suited to it than those it produces, so it is impossible to imagine any two people more completely adapted down to the smallest detail for the purpose they had to fulfill, than Napoleon and Alexander with all their antecedents.


The fundamental and essential significance of the European events of the beginning of the nineteenth century lies in the movement of the mass of the European peoples from west to east and afterwards from east to west.


The commencement of that movement was the movement from west to east.


For the peoples of the west to be able to make their warlike movement to Moscow it was necessary: (1) that they should form themselves into a military group of a size able to endure a collision with the warlike military group of the east, (2) that they should abandon all established traditions and customs, and (3) that during their military movement they should have at their head a man who could justify to himself and to them the deceptions, robberies, and murders which would have to be committed during that movement.


And beginning with the French Revolution the old inadequately large group was destroyed, as well as the old habits and traditions, and step by step a group was formed of larger dimensions with new customs and traditions, and a man was produced who would stand at the head of the coming movement and bear the responsibility for all that had to be done.


A man without convictions, without habits, without traditions, without a name, and not even a Frenchman, emerges—by what seem the strangest chances—from among all the seething French parties, and without joining any one of them is borne forward to a prominent position.


The ignorance of his colleagues, the weakness and insignificance of his opponents, the frankness of his falsehoods, and the dazzling and self-confident limitations of this man raise him to the head of the army.


The brilliant qualities of the soldiers of the army sent to Italy, his opponents’ reluctance to fight, and his own childish audacity and self-confidence secure him military fame.


Innumerable so-called chances accompany him everywhere.


The disfavor into which he falls with the rulers of France turns to his advantage.


His attempts to avoid his predestined path are unsuccessful: he is not received into the Russian service, and the appointment he seeks in Turkey comes to nothing.


During the war in Italy he is several times on the verge of destruction and each time is saved in an unexpected manner.


Owing to various diplomatic considerations the Russian armies—just those which might have destroyed his prestige—do not appear upon the scene till he is no longer there.


On his return from Italy he finds the government in Paris in a process of dissolution in which all those who are in it are inevitably wiped out and destroyed.