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BOOK 1 chapter 1 “WELL, PRINCE, Genoa and Lucca are now no more than private estates of the Bonaparte family. No, I warn you, that if you do not tell me we are at war, if you again allow yourself to palliate all the infamies and atrocities of this Antichrist (upon my word, I believe he is), I don't know you in future, you are no longer my friend, no longer my faithful slave, as you say. There, how do you do, how do you do? I see I'm scaring you, sit down and talk to me.” These words were uttered in July 1805 by Anna Pavlovna Scherer, a distinguished lady of the court, and confidential maid-of-honour to the Empress Marya Fyodorovna. It was her greeting to Prince Vassily, a man high in rank and office, who was the first to arrive at her soirée. Anna Pavlovna had been coughing for the last few days; she had an attack of la grippe, as she said—grippe was then a new word only used by a few people. In the notes she had sent round in the morning by a footman in red livery, she had written to all indiscriminately: “If you have nothing better to do, count (or prince), and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor invalid is not too alarming to you, I shall be charmed to see you at my house between 7 and 10. Annette Scherer.” “Heavens! what a violent outburst!” the prince responded, not in the least disconcerted at such a reception. He was wearing an embroidered court uniform, stockings and slippers, and had stars on his breast, and a bright smile on his flat face. He spoke in that elaborately choice French, in which our forefathers not only spoke but thought, and with those slow, patronising intonations peculiar to a man of importance who has grown old in court society. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed her hand, presenting her with a view of his perfumed, shining bald head, and complacently settled himself on the sofa. “First of all, tell me how you are, dear friend. Relieve a friend's anxiety,” he said, with no change of his voice and tone, in which indifference, and even irony, was perceptible through the veil of courtesy and sympathy. “How can one be well when one is in moral suffering? How can one help being worried in these times, if one has any feeling?” said Anna Pavlovna. “You'll spend the whole evening with me, I hope?” “And the fête at the English ambassador's? To-day is Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there,” said the prince. “My daughter is coming to fetch me and take me there.” “I thought to-day's fête had been put off. I confess that all these festivities and fireworks are beginning to pall.” “If they had known that it was your wish, the fête would have been put off,” said the prince, from habit, like a wound-up clock, saying things he did not even wish to be believed. “Don't tease me. Well, what has been decided in regard to the Novosiltsov dispatch? You know everything.” “What is there to tell?” said the prince in a tired, listless tone. “What has been decided? It has been decided that Bonaparte has burnt his ships, and I think that we are about to burn ours.” Prince Vassily always spoke languidly, like an actor repeating his part in an old play. Anna Pavlovna Scherer, in spite of her forty years, was on the contrary brimming over with excitement and impulsiveness. To be enthusiastic had become her pose in society, and at times even when she had, indeed, no inclination to be so, she was enthusiastic so as not to disappoint the expectations of those who knew her. The affected smile which played continually about Anna Pavlovna's face, out of keeping as it was with her faded looks, expressed a spoilt child's continual consciousness of a charming failing of which she had neither the wish nor the power to correct herself, which, indeed, she saw no need to correct. In the midst of a conversation about politics, Anna Pavlovna became greatly excited. “Ah, don't talk to me about Austria! I know nothing about it, perhaps, but Austria has never wanted, and doesn't want war. She is betraying us. Russia alone is to be the saviour of Europe. Our benefactor knows his lofty destiny, and will be true to it. That's the one thing I have faith in. Our good and sublime emperor has the greatest part in the world to play, and he is so virtuous and noble that God will not desert him, and he will fulfil his mission—to strangle the hydra of revolution, which is more horrible than ever now in the person of this murderer and miscreant.… Whom can we reckon on, I ask you? … England with her commercial spirit will not comprehend and cannot comprehend all the loftiness of soul of the Emperor Alexander. She has refused to evacuate Malta. She tries to detect, she seeks a hidden motive in our actions. What have they said to Novosiltsov? Nothing. They didn't understand, they're incapable of understanding the self-sacrifice of our emperor, who desires nothing for himself, and everything for the good of humanity. And what have they promised? Nothing. What they have promised even won't come to anything! Prussia has declared that Bonaparte is invincible, and that all Europe can do nothing against him.… And I don't believe a single word of what was said by Hardenberg or Haugwitz. That famous Prussian neutrality is a mere snare. I have no faith but in God and the lofty destiny of our adored emperor. He will save Europe!” She stopped short abruptly, with a smile of amusement at her own warmth. “I imagine,” said the prince, smiling, “that if you had been sent instead of our dear Wintsengerode, you would have carried the Prussian king's consent by storm,—you are so eloquent. Will you give me some tea?” “In a moment. By the way,” she added subsiding into calm again, “there are two very interesting men to be here to-night, the vicomte de Mortemart; he is connected with the Montmorencies through the Rohans, one of the best families in France. He is one of the good emigrants, the real ones. Then Abbé Morio; you know that profound intellect? He has been received by the emperor. Do you know him?” |
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一本 第一章 “啊，公爵，热那亚和卢加现在是波拿巴家族的领地，不过，我得事先对您说，如果您不对我说我们这里处于战争状态，如果您还敢袒护这个基督的敌人（我确乎相信，他是一个基督的敌人）的种种卑劣行径和他一手造成的灾祸，那么我就不再管您了。您就不再是我的朋友，您就不再是，如您所说的，我的忠实的奴隶。啊，您好，您好。我看我正在吓唬您了，请坐，讲给我听。” 一八○五年七月，遐迩闻名的安娜·帕夫洛夫娜·舍列尔——皇后玛丽亚·费奥多罗夫娜的宫廷女官和心腹，在欢迎首位莅临晚会的达官显要瓦西里公爵时说过这番话。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜一连咳嗽几天了。正如她所说，她身罹流行性感冒（那时候，流行性感冒是个新词，只有少数人才用它）。清早由一名红衣听差在分别发出的便函中，千篇一律地写道：“伯爵（或公爵），如您意下尚无任何可取的娱乐，如今日晚上这个可怜的女病人的症候不致使您过分惧怕，则请于七时至十时间莅临寒舍，不胜雀跃。安娜·舍列尔。” “我的天，大打出手，好不激烈！”一位进来的公爵答道，对这种接见丝毫不感到困惑，他穿着绣花的宫廷礼服、长统袜子、短靴皮鞋，佩戴着多枚明星勋章，扁平的面部流露出愉快的表情。 他讲的是优雅的法语，我们的祖辈不仅借助它来说话，而且借助它来思考，他说起话来带有很平静的、长辈庇护晚辈时特有的腔调，那是上流社会和宫廷中德高望重的老年人独具的语调。他向安娜·帕夫洛夫娜跟前走来，把那洒满香水的闪闪发亮的秃头凑近她，吻吻她的手，就心平气和地坐到沙发上。 “亲爱的朋友，请您首先告诉我，身体可好吗？您让我安静下来，”他说道，嗓音并没有改变，透过他那讲究礼貌的、关怀备至的腔调可以看出冷淡的、甚至是讥讽的意味。 “当你精神上遭受折磨时，身体上怎么能够健康呢？……在我们这个时代，即令有感情，又怎么能够保持宁静呢？”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道，“我希望您整个晚上都待在我这儿，好吗？” “英国公使的喜庆日子呢？今日是星期三，我要在那里露面，”公爵说道，“我女儿顺便来接我，坐一趟车子。” “我以为今天的庆祝会取消了。Jevousavouequetoutescesfetesettouscesfeuxd'artificecommencentadevenirinBsipides．”① “若是人家知道您有这种心愿，庆祝会就得取消的。”公爵说道，他俨然像一架上紧发条的钟，习惯地说些他不想要别人相信的话。 “Nemetourmentezpas．Ehbienqu'a－t－ondécidéparrapportàladépêchedeNovosilzoff？Voussaveztout．”② “怎么对您说好呢？”公爵说道，他的语调冷淡，索然无味。“Qu'a—t—ondécidê？OnadécidêqueBuonaparteabrúlésesvaisseaux，etjecroisquenoussommesentraindebrulerlesnotres．”③ ①法语：老实说，所有这些庆祝会、烟火，都令人厌恶极了。 ②法语：请您不要折磨我。哦，他们就诺沃西利采夫的紧急情报作出了什么决议？这一切您了若指掌。 ③法语：决定了什么？他们决定：波拿巴既已焚烧自己的战船，看来我们也要准备这样做。 瓦西里公爵向来是慢吞吞地说话，像演员口中道出旧台词那样。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜·舍列尔虽说是年满四十，却反而充满活力和激情。 她满腔热情，使她取得了社会地位。有时她甚至没有那种希冀，但为不辜负熟悉她的人们的期望，她还是要做一个满腔热情的人。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜脸上经常流露的冷淡的微笑，虽与她的憔悴的面容不相称，但却像娇生惯养的孩童那样，表示她经常意识到自己的微小缺点，不过她不想，也无法而且认为没有必要去把它改正。 在有关政治行动的谈话当中，安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的心情激昂起来。 “咳！请您不要对我谈论奥地利了！也许我什么都不明白，可是奥地利从来不需要，现在也不需要战争。它把我们出卖了。唯独俄罗斯才应当成为欧洲的救星。我们的恩人知道自己的崇高天职，他必将信守不渝。这就是我唯一的信条。我们慈善的国君当前需要发挥世界上至为伟大的职能。他十分善良，道德高尚，上帝决不会把他抛弃，他必将履行自己的天职，镇压革命的邪恶势力；他如今竟以这个杀手和恶棍作为代表人物，革命就显得愈益可怖了。遵守教规者付出了鲜血，唯独我们才应该讨还这一笔血债。我们要仰赖谁呢？我问您……散布着商业气息的英国决不懂得，也没法懂得亚历山大皇帝品性的高尚。美国拒绝让出马耳他。它想窥看，并且探寻我们行动的用意。他们对诺沃西利采夫说了什么话？……什么也没说。他们不理解，也没法理解我们皇帝的奋不顾身精神，我们皇帝丝毫不贪图私利，他心中总想为全世界造福。他们许诺了什么？什么也没有。他们的许诺，将只是一纸空文！普鲁士已经宣布，说波拿巴无敌于天下，整个欧洲都无能同他作对……我一点也不相信哈登贝格·豪格维茨的鬼话。Cettefameuseneutralitéprussienne，cen'estqu'unpiège．①我只相信上帝，相信我们的贤明君主的高贵命运。他一定能够拯救欧洲！……”她忽然停了下来，对她自己的激昂情绪流露出讥讽的微笑。 “我认为，”公爵面露微笑地说道，“假如不委派我们这个可爱的温岑格罗德，而是委派您，您就会迫使普鲁士国王达成协议。您真是个能言善辩的人。给我斟点茶，好吗？” “我马上把茶端来。顺带提一句，”她又心平气和地补充说，“今天在这儿有两位饶有风趣的人士，一位是LevicomtedeMostmart，ilestalliéauxMontmorencyparlesRohans，②法国优秀的家族之一。他是侨民之中的一个名副其实的佼佼者。另一位则是L'abbeMorio．③您认识这位聪明透顶的人士么？国王接见过他了。您知道吗？” |
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“Ah! I shall be delighted,” said the prince. “Tell me,” he added, as though he had just recollected something, speaking with special non-chalance, though the question was the chief motive of his visit: “is it true that the dowager empress desires the appointment of Baron Funke as first secretary to the Vienna legation? He is a poor creature, it appears, that baron.” Prince Vassily would have liked to see his son appointed to the post, which people were trying, through the Empress Marya Fyodorovna, to obtain for the baron. Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to signify that neither she nor any one else could pass judgment on what the empress might be pleased or see fit to do. “Baron Funke has been recommended to the empress-mother by her sister,” was all she said in a dry, mournful tone. When Anna Pavlovna spoke of the empress her countenance suddenly assumed a profound and genuine expression of devotion and respect, mingled with melancholy, and this happened whenever she mentioned in conversation her illustrious patroness. She said that her Imperial Majesty had been graciously pleased to show great esteem to Baron Funke, and again a shade of melancholy passed over her face. The prince preserved an indifferent silence. Anna Pavlovna, with the adroitness and quick tact of a courtier and a woman, felt an inclination to chastise the prince for his temerity in referring in such terms to a person recommended to the empress, and at the same time to console him. “But about your own family,” she said, “do you know that your daughter, since she has come out, charms everybody? People say she is as beautiful as the day.” The prince bowed in token of respect and acknowledgment. “I often think,” pursued Anna Pavlovna, moving up to the prince and smiling cordially to him, as though to mark that political and worldly conversation was over and now intimate talk was to begin: “I often think how unfairly the blessings of life are sometimes apportioned. Why has fate given you two such splendid children—I don't include Anatole, your youngest—him I don't like” (she put in with a decision admitting of no appeal, raising her eyebrows)—“such charming children? And you really seem to appreciate them less than any one, and so you don't deserve them.” And she smiled her ecstatic smile. “What would you have? Lavater would have said that I have not the bump of paternity,” said the prince. “Don't keep on joking. I wanted to talk to you seriously. Do you know I'm not pleased with your youngest son. Between ourselves” (her face took its mournful expression), “people have been talking about him to her majesty and commiserating you…” The prince did not answer, but looking at him significantly, she waited in silence for his answer. Prince Vassily frowned. “What would you have me do?” he said at last. “You know I have done everything for their education a father could do, and they have both turned out des imbéciles. Ippolit is at least a quiet fool, while Anatole's a fool that won't keep quiet, that's the only difference,” he said, with a smile, more unnatural and more animated than usual, bringing out with peculiar prominence something surprisingly brutal and unpleasant in the lines about his mouth. “Why are children born to men like you? If you weren't a father, I could find no fault with you,” said Anna Pavlovna, raising her eyes pensively. “I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess. My children are the bane of my existence. It's the cross I have to bear, that's how I explain it to myself. What would you have?” … He broke off with a gesture expressing his resignation to a cruel fate. Anna Pavlovna pondered a moment. “Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal son Anatole? People say,” she said, “that old maids have a mania for matchmaking. I have never been conscious of this failing before, but I have a little person in my mind, who is very unhappy with her father, a relation of ours, the young Princess Bolkonsky.” Prince Vassily made no reply, but with the rapidity of reflection and memory characteristic of worldly people, he signified by a motion of the head that he had taken in and was considering what she said. “No, do you know that that boy is costing me forty thousand roubles a year?” he said, evidently unable to restrain the gloomy current of his thoughts. He paused. “What will it be in five years if this goes on? These are the advantages of being a father.… Is she rich, your young princess?” “Her father is very rich and miserly. He lives in the country. You know that notorious Prince Bolkonsky, retired under the late emperor, and nicknamed the ‘Prussian King.' He's a very clever man, but eccentric and tedious. The poor little thing is as unhappy as possible. Her brother it is who has lately been married to Liza Meinen, an adjutant of Kutuzov's. He'll be here this evening.” “Listen, dear Annette,” said the prince, suddenly taking his companion's hand, and for some reason bending it downwards. “Arrange this matter for me and I am your faithful slave for ever and ever. She's of good family and well off. That's all I want.” And with the freedom, familiarity, and grace that distinguished him, he took the maid-of-honour's hand, kissed it, and as he kissed it waved her hand, while he stretched forward in his low chair and gazed away into the distance. “Wait,” said Anna Pavlovna, considering. “I'll talk to Lise (the wife of young Bolkonsky) this very evening, and perhaps it can be arranged. I'll try my prentice hand as an old maid in your family.” |
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“啊！我将会感到非常高兴，”公爵说道，“请您告诉我，”他补充说，仿佛他方才想起某件事，显露出不经心的神态，而他所要问的事情，正是他来拜谒的主要鹄的。“L'impératrice－mère④想委派斗克男爵出任维也纳的头等秘书，真有其事吗？C'estunpauvresire，cebaron，àcequ'ilparait，⑤”瓦西里公爵想把儿子安插到这个职位上，而大家却在千方百计地通过玛丽亚·费奥多罗夫娜为男爵谋到这个职位。 ①法语：普鲁士的这种臭名昭著的中立，只是个陷阱。 ②法语：莫特马尔子爵，借助罗昂家的关系，已同蒙莫朗西结成亲戚。 ③法语：莫里约神甫。 ④法语：孀居的太后。 ⑤法语：这公爵似乎是个卑微的人。 安娜·帕夫洛夫娜几乎阖上了眼睛，暗示无论是她，或是任何人都不能断定，皇太后乐意或者喜欢做什么事。 “MonsieurlebarondeFunkeaétérecommandéàL'impératrice－mèreparsasoeur，”①她只是用悲哀的、冷冰冰的语调说了这句话。当安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说到太后的名字时，她脸上顿时流露出无限忠诚和十分敬重的表情，而且混杂有每次谈话中提到她的至高无上的庇护者时就会表现出来的忧悒情绪。她说，太后陛下对斗克男爵beaucoupd'estime，②于是她的目光又笼罩着一抹愁云。 公爵不开腔了，现出了冷漠的神态。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜本身具备有廷臣和女人的那种灵活和麻利的本能，待人接物有分寸，她心想抨击公爵，因为他胆敢肆意评论那个推荐给太后的人，而同时又安慰公爵。 “Maisàproposdevotrefamille，”③她说道，“您知道吗？自从您女儿抛头露面，进入交际界以来，faitlesdélicesdetoutlemonde，Onlatrouvebelle，commeLejour．”④ ①法语：斗克男爵是由太后的妹妹向太后推荐的。 ②法语：十分尊重。 ③法语：顺便谈谈您的家庭情况吧。 ④法语：她是整个上流社会的宠物。大家都认为她是娇艳的美人。 公爵深深地鞠躬，表示尊敬和谢意。 “我常有这样的想法，”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜在沉默须臾之后继续说道，她将身子凑近公爵，对他露出亲切的微笑，仿佛在表示，政界和交际界的谈话已经结束，现在可以开始推心置腹地交谈，“我常有这样的想法，生活上的幸福有时安排得不公平。为什么命运之神赐予您这么两个可爱的孩子（除开您的小儿子阿纳托利，我不喜欢他），”她扬起眉毛，断然地插上一句话，“为什么命运之神赐予您这么两个顶好的孩子呢？可是您真的不珍惜他们，所以您不配有这么两个孩子。” 她于是兴奋地莞然一笑。 “Quevoulez－vous？Lafaterauraitditquejen'aipaslabossedelapaternité，①”公爵说道。 “请不要再开玩笑。我想和您认真地谈谈。您知道，我不满意您的小儿子。对这些话请别介意，就在我们之间说说吧（她脸上带有忧悒的表情），大家在太后跟前议论他，都对您表示惋惜……” 公爵不回答，但她沉默地、有所暗示地望着他，等待他回答。瓦西里公爵皱了一阵眉头。 “我该怎样办呢？”他终于说道。“您知道，为教育他们，我已竭尽为父的应尽的能事，可是到头来两个都成了desimBbeciles，②伊波利特充其量是个温顺的笨蛋，阿纳托利却是个惴惴不安的笨蛋。这就是二人之间唯一的差异。”他说道，笑得比平常更不自然，更兴奋，同时嘴角边起了皱褶，特别强烈地显得出人意料地粗暴和可憎。 ①法语：怎么办呢？拉法特会说我没有父爱的骨相。 ②法语：笨蛋。 “为什么像您这种人要生儿女呢？如果您不当父亲，我就无话可责备您了。”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道，若有所思地抬起眼睛。 “Jesuisvotre①忠实的奴隶，etàvousseulejepuisl'avou－er，我的孩子们——cesontlesentravesdemonexisBtence，②这就是我的苦难。我是这样自我解释的。Quevoulezvous？……”③他默不作声，用手势表示他听从残酷命运的摆布。 ①法语：我是您的。 ②法语：我只能向您一人坦白承认。我的孩子们是我的生活负担。 ③法语：怎么办呢？ 安娜·帕夫洛夫娜陷入了沉思。 “您从来没有想到替您那个浪子阿纳托利娶亲的事么？据说，”她开口说道，“老处女都有lamainedesmariages，①我还不觉得我自己会有这个弱点，可是我这里有一个petitepersonne，②她和她父亲相处，极为不幸，她就是博尔孔斯卡娅，uneparenteanous，uneprincesse．”③尽管瓦西里公爵具备上流社会人士固有的神速的颖悟力和记忆力，但对她的见识他只是摇摇脑袋表示要加以斟酌，并没有作答。 “不，您是不是知道，这个阿纳托利每年都要花费我四万卢布。”他说道，看来无法遏制他那忧悒的心绪。他沉默了片刻。 “若是这样拖下去，五年后那会怎样呢？VoilàL'avantageà'ètrepère。④您那个公爵小姐很富有吗？” ①法语：为人办婚事的癖性。 ②法语：少女。 ③法语：我们的一个亲戚，公爵小姐。 ④法语：这就是为父的益处。 “他父亲很富有，可也很吝啬。他在乡下居住。您知道，这个大名鼎鼎的博尔孔斯基公爵早在已故的皇帝在位时就退休了，他的绰号是‘普鲁士国王'。他是个非常聪明的人，可脾气古怪，难于同他相处。Lapauvrepetiteestmalheureuse，commelespierres，①她有个大哥，在当库图佐夫的副官，就在不久前娶上了丽莎·梅南，今天他要上我这儿来。” “Ecoutez，chèreAnnette，②”公爵说道，他忽然抓住交谈者的手，不知怎的使它稍微向下弯。“Arrangez－moicetteaffaireetjesuisvotre③最忠诚的奴隶àtoutjamais（奴辈，commemon村长m'écritdes④在汇报中所写的）。她出身于名门望族，又很富有。这一切都是我所需要的。” 他的动作灵活、亲昵而优美，可作为他的表征，他抓起宫廷女官的手吻了吻，握着她的手摇晃了几下，伸开手脚懒洋洋地靠在安乐椅上，抬起眼睛向一旁望去。 “Attendez，”⑤安娜·帕夫洛夫娜思忖着说道，“我今天跟丽莎（Lafemmedujeune博尔孔斯基⑥）谈谈，也许这事情会办妥的。Ceseradansvotrefamille，quejeferaimonapBprentissagedevieillefille．⑦” ①法语：这个可怜的小姐太不幸了。 ②法语：亲爱的安内特，请听我说吧。 ③法语：替我办妥这件事，我就永远是您的。 ④法语：正如我的村长所写的。 ⑤法语：请您等一等。 ⑥法语：博尔孔斯基的妻子。 ⑦我开始在您家里学习老处女的行当。 |
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CHAPTER II ANNA PAVLOVNA'S DRAWING-ROOM gradually began to fill. The people of the highest distinction in Petersburg were there, people very different in ages and characters, but alike in the set in which they moved. The daughter of Prince Vassily, the beauty, Ellen, came to fetch her father and go with him to the ambassador's fête. She was wearing a ball-dress with an imperial badge on it. The young Princess Bolkonsky was there, celebrated as the most seductive woman in Petersburg. She had been married the previous winter, and was not now going out into the great world on account of her interesting condition, but was still to be seen at small parties. Prince Ippolit, the son of Prince Vassily, came too with Mortemart, whom he introduced. The Abbé Morio was there too, and many others. “Have you not yet seen, or not been introduced to ma tante?” Anna Pavlovna said to her guests as they arrived, and very seriously she led them up to a little old lady wearing tall bows, who had sailed in out of the next room as soon as the guests began to arrive. Anna Pavlovna mentioned their names, deliberately turning her eyes from the guest to ma tante, and then withdrew. All the guests performed the ceremony of greeting the aunt, who was unknown, uninteresting and unnecessary to every one. Anna Pavlovna with mournful, solemn sympathy, followed these greetings, silently approving them. Ma tante said to each person the same words about his health, her own health, and the health of her majesty, who was, thank God, better to-day. Every one, though from politeness showing no undue haste, moved away from the old lady with a sense of relief at a tiresome duty accomplished, and did not approach her again all the evening. The young Princess Bolkonsky had come with her work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little upper lip, faintly darkened with down, was very short over her teeth, but was all the more charming when it was lifted, and still more charming when it was at times drawn down to meet the lower lip. As is always the case with perfectly charming women, her defect — the shortness of the lip and the half-opened mouth — seemed her peculiar, her characteristic beauty. Every one took delight in watching the pretty creature full of life and gaiety, so soon to be a mother, and so lightly bearing her burden. Old men and bored, depressed young men gazing at her felt as though they were becoming like her, by being with her and talking a little while to her. Any man who spoke to her, and at every word saw her bright little smile and shining white teeth, gleaming continually, imagined that he was being particularly successful this evening. And this each thought in turn. The little princess, moving with a slight swing, walked with rapid little steps round the table with her work-bag in her hand, and gaily arranging the folds of her gown, sat down on a sofa near the silver samovar; it seemed as though everything she did was a festival for herself and all around her. “I have brought my work,” she said, displaying her reticule, and addressing the company generally. “Mind, Annette, don't play me a nasty trick,” she turned to the lady of the house; “you wrote to me that it was quite a little gathering. See how I am got up.” And she flung her arms open to show her elegant grey dress, trimmed with lace and girt a little below the bosom with a broad sash. “Never mind, Lise, you will always be prettier than any one else,” answered Anna Pavlovna. “You know my husband is deserting me,” she went on in just the same voice, addressing a general; “he is going to get himself killed. Tell me what this nasty war is for,” she said to Prince Vassily, and without waiting for an answer she turned to Prince Vassily's daughter, the beautiful Ellen. “How delightful this little princess is!” said Prince Vassily in an undertone to Anna Pavlovna. Soon after the little princess, there walked in a massively built, stout young man in spectacles, with a cropped head, light breeches in the mode of the day, with a high lace ruffle and a ginger-coloured coat. This stout young man was the illegitimate son of a celebrated dandy of the days of Catherine, Count Bezuhov, who was now dying at Moscow. He had not yet entered any branch of the service; he had only just returned from abroad, where he had been educated, and this was his first appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with a nod reserved for persons of the very lowest hierarchy in her drawing-room. But, in spite of this greeting, Anna Pavlovna's countenance showed signs on seeing Pierre of uneasiness and alarm, such as is shown at the sight of something too big and out of place. Though Pierre certainly was somewhat bigger than any of the other men in the room, this expression could only have reference to the clever, though shy, observant and natural look that distinguished him from every one else in the drawing-room. “It is very kind of you, M. Pierre, to have come to see a poor invalid,” Anna Pavlovna said to him, exchanging anxious glances with her aunt, to whom she was conducting him. Pierre murmured something unintelligible, and continued searching for something with his eyes. He smiled gleefully and delightedly, bowing to the little princess as though she were an intimate friend, and went up to the aunt. Anna Pavlovna's alarm was not without grounds, for Pierre walked away from the aunt without waiting to the end of her remarks about her majesty's health. Anna Pavlovna stopped him in dismay with the words: “You don't know Abbé Morio? He's a very interesting man,” she said. “Yes, I have heard of his scheme for perpetual peace, and it's very interesting, but hardly possible …” “You think so?” said Anna Pavlovna in order to say something and to get away again to her duties as hostess, but Pierre committed the opposite incivility. Just now he had walked off without listening to the lady who was addressing him; now he detained by his talk a lady who wanted to get away from him. With head bent and legs planted wide apart, he began explaining to Anna Pavlovna why he considered the abbé's scheme chimerical. “We will talk of it later,” said Anna Pavlovna, smiling. And getting rid of this unmannerly young man she returned to her duties, keeping her eyes and ears open, ready to fly to the assistance at any point where the conversation was flagging. Just as the foreman of a spinning-mill settles the work-people in their places, walks up and down the works, and noting any stoppage or unusual creaking or too loud a whir in the spindles, goes up hurriedly, slackens the machinery and sets it going properly, so Anna Pavlovna, walking about her drawing-room, went up to any circle that was pausing or too loud in conversation and by a single word or change of position set the conversational machine going again in its regular, decorous way. But in the midst of these cares a special anxiety on Pierre's account could still be discerned in her. She kept an anxious watch on him as he went up to listen to what was being said near Mortemart, and walked away to another group where the abbé was talking. Pierre had been educated abroad, and this party at Anna Pavlovna's was the first at which he had been present in Russia. He knew all the intellectual lights of Petersburg gathered together here, and his eyes strayed about like a child's in a toy-shop. He was afraid at every moment of missing some intellectual conversation which he might have heard. Gazing at the self-confident and refined expressions of the personages assembled here, he was continually expecting something exceptionally clever. At last he moved up to Abbé Morio. The conversation seemed interesting, and he stood still waiting for an opportunity of expressing his own ideas, as young people are fond of doing. |
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第二章 安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的客厅渐渐挤满了来宾。彼得堡的有名望的显贵都来赴会了，就其年龄和性情而言，这些人虽然各不相同，但是就其生活的社会而言，却是相同的。瓦西里公爵的女儿——貌美的海伦前来赴会了，她顺路来接父亲，以便一同去出席公使的庆祝大会。她佩戴花字奖章，身穿舞会的艳装。知名的、年轻的、身材矮小的叫做博尔孔斯卡娅的公爵夫人，LafemmelaplusséduisantedePétersbourg①，也来赴会了；她于去冬出阁，因为怀胎，眼下不能跻身于稠人广众的交际场所，但仍旧出席小型晚会。瓦西里公爵的儿子伊波利特随同他所举荐的莫特马尔也来赴会了；此外，前来赴会的还有莫里约神父和许多旁的人。 “我还没有见过（或者：您和Matante②不相识吧？）。”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜对各位来宾说，又一本正经地把他们领到小老太太跟前，她头上束着高高的蝴蝶结，当宾客快要到来时，便从另一个房间从容平稳地走出来；安娜·帕夫洛夫娜喊出一个个来客的名字，同时把目光慢慢地从客人移到matante身上，之后她就走开了。 ①彼得堡的迷人的女人。 ②法语：我的姑母。 各位来宾都向这个谁也不熟悉、谁也不感兴趣、谁也不需要的姑母行礼问安。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜显露出忧郁而庄重的神态，聆听他们的问候，心中默默地表示赞许。matante用同样的言词对每位来宾谈论到他们的情形，谈论到她自己和太后的健康情形，“谢天谢地，太后今朝有起色。”各位前来叩安的客人，为着要讲究礼节，都不表露出仓忙的神色，但都怀着履行艰巨职责之后的轻快的感觉离开老太太，整个夜晚再也不到她身边去了。 年轻的名叫博尔孔斯卡娅的公爵夫人来了，她随身带着一个金线织的丝绒袋子，内中装有针线活儿。她那长有略带黑色绒毛的令人悦目的上唇，翘起来，露出了上牙，正因为这样，上唇启开时，就显得愈加好看，有时候上唇向前伸出或者搭在下唇上，就愈益好看了。她的缺点——翘嘴唇、微微张开的口——似乎已构成她的特殊的美。无论谁看见这个身体健壮、充满活力、即令是怀胎，依然一身轻快的、长相十分好看的未来的母亲，都感到无比喜悦。老年人和阴郁而烦闷的年青人，设若和她在一块待上片刻，聊聊天，就好像变得和她一个模样了。谁和她聊过天，看见她每说一句话都会露出来爽朗的微笑，看见她那雪白的、闪闪发亮的牙齿，就会感到今天受宠若惊，飘飘然。每个人脑子里都会浮现出这种想法。 身材矮小的公爵夫人手上提着一个装有针线活的袋子，迈着急速的碎步，蹒跚地绕过桌子，愉快地弄平连衣裙，便在银质茶炊旁的长沙发上坐下来，仿佛她无论做什么事情，对她本人和她周围的人，都是一件partiedeplaisir。①“J'aiapportémonouvrage，”②她打开女用手提包，把脸转向大家说道。 “您瞧吧，Annette，nemejouezpasunmauvais′tour，”她把脸转向女主人说话。“Vousm'avezécrit，quec'étaitunetoutepetitesoirée；voyezcommejesuisattifée．”③ ①法语：开心事。 ②法语：我把针线活儿随身带来了。 ③法语：不要恶毒地跟我开玩笑，您写给我的信上说，你们举行一个小型的晚会。您瞧，我已经围上披肩了。 她于是两手一摊，让大伙儿瞧瞧她那件缀上花边的雅致的灰灰色的连衣裙，前胸以下系着一条宽阔的绸带。 “Soyeztranquille，Lise，voussereztoujourslaplusjolie，”①安娜·帕夫洛夫娜回答。 “Voussavez，monmarim'abandonne。”她把脸转向一位将军，用同样的语调继续说下去，“ilvasefairetuer．Ditesmoi，pourquoicettevilaineguerre，”②她对瓦西里公爵说道，不等他回答，便转过身来和公爵的女儿——貌美的海伦谈话。 “Quelledélicieusepersonnequecettepetiteprincesse！”③瓦西里公爵轻言细语地对安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道。 ①法语：丽莎，请您放心吧，您毕竟比谁都漂亮。 ②法语：您知道，我的丈夫要把我抛弃了。他要去拼死卖命。请您告诉我，这种万恶的战争是为了什么目的啊！ ③法语：这个身材矮小的公爵夫人，是个多么讨人喜欢的人啊！ 紧随那矮小的公爵夫人之后，有一个块头大的、略嫌肥胖的年轻人走进来了、头发剪得短短的，戴着一付眼镜，穿着一条时髦的浅色裤子，那衣领显得又高又硬，还披上一件棕色的燕尾服。这个略嫌肥胖的年轻人是叶卡捷琳娜在位时一位大名鼎鼎的达官、而目前正在莫斯科奄奄一息的别祖霍夫伯爵的私生子。他还没有在任何地方工作过，刚从外国深造回来，头一次在社交场合露面。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜对他鞠个躬，表示欢迎，平素她也同样地对待自己沙龙中的下级人员。虽然这是迎接下级的礼节，但一看见皮埃尔走进门来，安娜·帕夫洛夫娜脸上就表现出惊惶不安的神情，有如看见一只不宜于此地栖身的巨大怪物似的。皮埃尔的身材确实比沙龙里其他男人魁梧些，但这种惊惶的表情只可能由于他那机灵而又畏怯、敏锐而又焦然，有别于沙龙中其他人的目光而引起的。 “C'estbienaimableàvous，monsieurPierre，d'etrevenuvoirunepauvremalade，”①安娜·帕夫洛夫娜对他说道，把他带到姑母面前，惊惶失措地和她互使眼色。皮埃尔嘟哝着说了一句令人不懂的话，继续不停地用眼睛探寻着什么。他欢快地微微一笑，像对亲密的朋友那样，向身材矮小的公爵夫人鞠躬行礼，接着便向姑母面前走去。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的惊惶失措的神态并不是无缘无故的，因为皮埃尔还没有听完姑母讲太后的健康情形，便从她身旁走开了。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜心慌意乱地用话阻拦他。 ①法语：皮埃尔先生，您真是太好了，来探望一个可怜的女病人。 “您不知道莫里约神父吗？他是个很有风趣的人……”她说。 “是的，我听过有关他所提出的永久和平的计划。这真是十分有趣，不过未必有可能……” “您有这样的想法？……”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道，她本想随便聊聊，再去做些家庭主妇的活儿，但是皮埃尔竟然做出一反常态的缺少礼貌的举动。原先他没有听完对话人的话就走开了，此刻他却说些闲话来拦住需要离开他的对话人。他便垂着头，叉开他两条大腿，开始向安娜·帕夫洛夫娜证明，他为何认为神父的计划纯粹是幻想。 “我们以后来谈吧。”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道，流露出一丝微笑。 她摆脱了那个不善于生活的年轻人之后，便回过头来去干家庭主妇的活儿，继续留心地听听，仔细地看看，准备去帮助哪个谈得不带劲的地方的人。像一个纺纱作坊的老板，让劳动者就位以后，便在作坊里踱来踱去，发现纺锤停止转动，或者声音逆耳，轧轧作响、音量太大时，就赶快走去制动纺车，或者使它运转自如——安娜·帕夫洛夫娜也是这样处理事情的，她在自己客厅里踱来踱去，不时地走到寂然无声或者谈论过多的人群面前，开口说句话或者调动他们的坐位，于是又使谈话机器从容不迫地、文质彬彬地转动起来。但是在她这样照料的当儿，依然看得出她分外担心皮埃尔。当皮埃尔走到莫特马尔周围的人们近旁听听他们谈话，后来又走到有神父发言的那一群人面前的时候，她总是怀着关切的心态注视着皮埃尔。对于在外国受过教育的皮埃尔来说，安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的这次晚会，是他在俄国目睹的第一个晚会。他知道，彼得堡的知识分子都在这里集会，他真像个置身于玩具商店的孩童那样，看不胜看，眼花缭乱。他老是惧怕错失他能听到的深奥议论的机会。他亲眼望见在这里集会的人们都现出充满信心而又文雅的表情，他老是等待能听到特别深奥的言论。末了，他向莫里约面前走去。他心里觉得他们的谈话十分有趣，他于是停了下来，等待有机会说出自己的主见，就像年轻人那样，个个喜欢这一着。 |
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CHAPTER III ANNA PAVLOVNA'S soirée was in full swing. The spindles kept up their regular hum on all sides without pause. Except the aunt, beside whom was sitting no one but an elderly lady with a thin, careworn face, who seemed rather out of her element in this brilliant society, the company was broken up into three groups. In one of these, the more masculine, the centre was the abbé; in the other, the group of young people, the chief attractions were the beautiful Princess Ellen, Prince Vassily's daughter, and the little Princess Bolkonsky, with her rosy prettiness, too plump for her years. In the third group were Mortemart and Anna Pavlovna. The vicomte was a pretty young gentleman with soft features and manners, who obviously regarded himself as a celebrity, but with good breeding modestly allowed the company the benefit of his society. Anna Pavlovna unmistakably regarded him as the chief entertainment she was giving her guests. As a clever maître d'hôtel serves as something superlatively good the piece of beef which no one would have cared to eat seeing it in the dirty kitchen, Anna Pavlovna that evening served up to her guests — first, the vicomte and then the abbé, as something superlatively subtle. In Mortemart's group the talk turned at once on the execution of the duc d'Enghien. The vicomte said that the duc d'Enghien had been lost by his own magnanimity and that there were special reasons for Bonaparte's bitterness against him. “Ah, come! Tell us about that, vicomte,” said Anna Pavlovna gleefully, feeling that the phrase had a peculiarly Louis Quinze note about it: “Contez-nous cela, vicomte.” The vicomte bowed and smiled courteously in token of his readiness to obey. Anna Pavlovna made a circle round the vicomte and invited every one to hear his story. “The vicomte was personally acquainted with his highness,” Anna Pavlovna whispered to one. “The vicomte tells a story perfectly,” she said to another. “How one sees the man of quality,” she said to a third, and the vicomte was presented to the company in the most elegant and advantageous light, like the roast-beef on the hot dish garnished with green parsley. The vicomte was about to begin his narrative, and he smiled subtly. “Come over here, chère Hélène,” said Anna Pavlovna to the young beauty who was sitting a little way off, the centre of another group. Princess Ellen smiled. She got up with the same unchanging smile of the acknowledged beauty with which she had entered the drawing-room. Her white ball-dress adorned with ivy and moss rustled lightly; her white shoulders, glossy hair, and diamonds glittered, as she passed between the men who moved apart to make way for her. Not looking directly at any one, but smiling at every one, as it were courteously allowing to all the right to admire the beauty of her figure, her full shoulders, her bosom and back, which were extremely exposed in the mode of the day, she moved up to Anna Pavlovna, seeming to bring with her the brilliance of the ballroom. Ellen was so lovely that she was not merely free from the slightest shade of coquetry, she seemed on the contrary ashamed of the too evident, too violent and all-conquering influence of her beauty. She seemed to wish but to be unable to soften the effect of her beauty. “What a beautiful woman!” every one said on seeing her. As though struck by something extraordinary, the vicomte shrugged his shoulders and dropped his eyes, when she seated herself near him and dazzled him too with the same unchanging smile. “Madame, I doubt my abilities before such an audience,” he said, bowing with a smile. The princess leaned her plump, bare arm on the table and did not find it necessary to say anything. She waited, smiling. During the vicomte's story she sat upright, looking from time to time at her beautiful, plump arm, which lay with its line changed by pressure on the table, then at her still lovelier bosom, on which she set straight her diamond necklace. Several times she settled the folds of her gown and when the narrative made a sensation upon the audience, she glanced at Anna Pavlovna and at once assumed the expression she saw on the maid-of-honour's face, then she relapsed again into her unvarying smile. After Ellen the little princess too moved away from the tea-table. “Wait for me, I will take my work,” she said. “Come, what are you thinking of?” she said to Prince Ippolit. “Bring me my reticule.” The little princess, smiling and talking to every one, at once effected a change of position, and settling down again, gaily smoothed out her skirts. “Now I'm comfortable,” she said, and begging the vicomte to begin, she took up her work. Prince Ippolit brought her reticule, moved to her side, and bending close over her chair, sat beside her. Le charmant Hippolyte struck every one as extraordinarily like this sister, and, still more, as being, in spite of the likeness, strikingly ugly. His features were like his sister's, but in her, everything was radiant with joyous life, with the complacent, never-failing smile of youth and life and an extraordinary antique beauty of figure. The brother's face on the contrary was clouded over by imbecility and invariably wore a look of aggressive fretfulness, while he was thin and feebly built. His eyes, his nose, his mouth — everything was, as it were, puckered up in one vacant, bored grimace, while his arms and legs always fell into the most grotesque attitudes. “It is not a ghost story,” he said, sitting down by the princess and hurriedly fixing his eyeglass in his eye, as though without that instrument he could not begin to speak. “Why, no, my dear fellow,” said the astonished vicomte, with a shrug. “Because I detest ghost stories,” said Prince Ippolit in a tone which showed that he uttered the words before he was aware of their meaning. |
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第三章 安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的晚会像纺车一般动起来了。纺锤从四面匀速地转动，不断地发出轧轧的响声。只有一位痛哭流涕的、面容消瘦的、渐近老境的太太坐在姑母身旁，在这个出色的社交团体中，她显得有点格格不入，除姑母而外，这个社交团体分成了三个小组。在男人占有多数的一个小组中，神父是中心人物。在另外一个小组——年轻人的小组中，美丽的公爵小姐海伦——瓦西里公爵的女儿和那矮小的名叫博尔孔斯卡娅的公爵夫人是中心人物，公爵夫人姿色迷人，面颊绯红，但年纪尚轻，身段显得太肥胖了。在第三个小组中，莫特马尔和安娜·帕夫洛夫娜是中心人物。 子爵心地和善、待人谦让，是个相貌漂亮的年轻人。显然，他认为自己是个名人，但因受过良好教育，是以恭顺地让他所在的社团利用他，摆布他。很明显，安娜·帕夫洛夫娜借助他来款待来客。假如你在污秽的厨房里看见一块牛肉，根本不想吃它，可是一个好管家却会把它端上餐桌，作为一道异常可口的美味；今天晚上安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的做法也是这样，她先向客人献上子爵，然后献上神父，把他们作为异常精致的菜肴。莫特马尔那个小组立刻谈论到杀害昂吉安公爵的情形。子爵说，昂吉安公爵的死因，是舍己为人，而波拿巴的怨恨是有特殊原因的。 “Ah！voyonsContez－nouscela，vicomte，”①安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道，高兴地感到“Contez－nouscela，vicomte”这句话àlaLouisⅩⅤ②的腔调。 ①法语：啊，是真的呀！子爵，请把这件事讲给我们听吧。 ②法语：像路易十五。 子爵鞠躬以示顺从，彬彬有礼地微露笑容。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜在子爵身边让客人围成一圈，请大家听他讲故事。 “LevicomteaétépersonnellementconnudemonB seigneur，①”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜轻言细语地对一位来客说道。 “Levicomteestunparfaitconteur，”②她对另一位来客说道。 “CommeonvoitL'hommedelabonnecompagnie，”③她对第三位来客说道。可见子爵像一盘撒上青菜的热气腾腾的干炒牛里脊，从至为优雅和对他至为有利的方面来看，他好像被端上餐桌献给这个团体的人们。 子爵想开始讲故事，脸上流露出机灵的微笑。 “请您到这边来吧，chèreHélène．”④安娜·帕夫洛夫娜对长相俊美的公爵小姐说道。公爵小姐坐在稍远的地方，她是另一个小组的中心人物。 ①法语：子爵本人和那位公爵相识。 ②法语：子爵是个令人惊讶的善于讲故事的大师。 ③法语：一下子就看得出是位上流社会人士。 ④法语：亲爱的海伦。 名叫海伦的公爵小姐面带笑容，站了起来，她总是流露着她走进客厅以后就流露的美女般的微笑。她从闪到两边去让路的男人中间走过时，她那点缀着藤蔓和藓苔图案的参加舞会穿的洁白的衣裳发出刷刷的响声，雪白的肩膀、发亮的头发和钻石都熠熠生辉，她一直往前走去，向安娜·帕夫洛夫娜身边走去，两眼不看任何人，但对人人微露笑容，宛如她把欣赏她的身段、丰满的肩头、装束时髦的、完全袒露的胸脯和脊背之美的权利恭恭敬敬地赐予每个人，宛如她给舞蹈晚会增添了光彩。海伦太美了，从她身上看不到半点娇媚的表情，恰恰相反，好像她为自己坚信不疑的、诱惑力足以倾到一切的姿色而深感羞愧，好像她希望减少自己的美貌的诱惑力，可是无能为力。 “Quellebellepersonne！”①凡是见过她的人都这样说。当她在子爵面前坐下，照常地微微发笑，使他容光焕发的时候，仿佛有一种非凡的力量使他大为惊讶，他于是耸了耸肩，垂下了眼帘。 “Madame，jecrainspourmesmoyensdevantunpareil auditoire．”②他说道，低下头来，嘴角上露出微笑。 公爵小姐把她那裸露的肥胖的手臂的肘部靠在茶几上，她认为无须说话，面露笑容地等待着。在讲故事的当儿，她腰板挺直地坐着，时而瞧瞧轻松地搁在茶几上的肥胖而美丽的手臂，时而瞧瞧更加美丽的胸脯，弄平挂在胸前的钻石项链，她一连几次弄平连衣裙的皱褶，当故事讲到令人产生深刻印象的时候，她回过头来看看安娜·帕夫洛夫娜，立时现出和宫廷女官同样的面部表情，随后便安静下来，脸上浮现出愉快的微笑。矮小的公爵夫人也紧随海伦身后从茶几旁边走过来了。 “Attendez－moi，jevaisprendremonouvrage，”③她说，“Voyons，àquoipensez－vous？”她把脸转向伊波利特公爵说。“Apportez－moimonridicule．”④ ①法语：多么迷人的美女啊！ ②法语：我的确担心在这样的听众面前会拿不出讲话的本领来。 ③法语：请等一下吧，我来拿我的活儿。 ④法语：您怎样啦？您想什么啦？请您把我的女用手提包拿来。 公爵夫人微露笑容，和大家交谈的时候，她忽然调动坐位，坐下来，愉快地把衣服弄平，弄整齐。 “现在我觉得挺好，”她说，请人家开始讲故事，一面又做起活儿来了。 伊波利特公爵把女用小提包交给她，跟在她身后走过来，又把安乐椅移到靠近她的地方，便在她身旁坐下来。 这位LecharmantHippolyte①长得俨像他的美丽的妹 妹，真令人诧异，二人虽然相像，但他却十分丑陋，这就更令人诧异了。他的面部和他妹妹的一模一样，但他妹妹那乐观愉快的、洋洋自得、充满青春活力、朝夕不变的微笑和身段超人的古典美，使她容光焕发，倾城倾国；反之，哥哥的长相却显得愚昧昏庸，总是表现出十分自信和不满的神态，他身子既瘦且弱，疲软无力。眼睛、鼻子和口挤在一起，很不匀称，仿佛已变成缺乏表情的、闷闷不乐的鬼脸，而手足笨拙，总是做出生硬的姿势。 “Cen'estpasunehistoirederevenants？”②他说道。他坐在公爵夫人近侧，赶快把那单目眼镜戴在眼上，好像缺少这副工具他就无法开腔似的。 “Maisnon，moncher．”③讲故事的人大吃一惊，耸耸肩，说。 “C'estquejedétesteleshistoiresderevenants．”④伊波利特公爵用这种语调说，从中可以明显地看出，他先说这句话，然后才明了这句话有什么涵义。 ①法语：可爱的伊波利特。 ②法语：这是不是关于鬼魂的故事？ ③法语：亲爱的，根本不是。 ④法语：问题就在于，我很讨厌鬼魂的故事。 |
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From the self-confidence with which he spoke no one could tell whether what he said was very clever or very stupid. He was dressed in a dark-green frock coat, breeches of the colour of the cuisse de nymphe effrayée, as he called it, stockings and slippers. The vicomte very charmingly related the anecdote then current, that the duc d'Enghien had secretly visited Paris for the sake of an interview with the actress, Mlle. Georges, and that there he met Bonaparte, who also enjoyed the favours of the celebrated actress, and that, meeting the duc, Napoleon had fallen into one of the fits to which he was subject and had been completely in the duc's power, how the duc had not taken advantage of it, and Bonaparte had in the sequel avenged his magnanimity by the duc's death. The story was very charming and interesting, especially at the point when the rivals suddenly recognise each other, and the ladies seemed to be greatly excited by it. “Charmant!” said Anna Pavlovna, looking inquiringly at the little princess. “Charming!” whispered the little princess, sticking her needle into her work as an indication that the interest and charm of the story prevented her working. The vicomte appreciated this silent homage, and smiling gratefully, resumed his narrative. But meanwhile Anna Pavlovna, still keeping a watch on the dreadful young man, noticed that he was talking too loudly and too warmly with the abbé and hurried to the spot of danger. Pierre had in fact succeeded in getting into a political conversation with the abbé on the balance of power, and the abbé, evidently interested by the simple-hearted fervour of the young man, was unfolding to him his cherished idea. Both were listening and talking too eagerly and naturally, and Anna Pavlovna did not like it. “The means? — the balance of power in Europe and the rights of the people,” said the abbé. “One powerful state like Russia — with the prestige of barbarism — need only take a disinterested stand at the head of the alliance that aims at securing the balance of power in Europe, and it would save the world!” “How are you going to get such a balance of power?” Pierre was beginning; but at that moment Anna Pavlovna came up, and glancing severely at Pierre, asked the Italian how he was supporting the climate. The Italian's face changed instantly and assumed the look of offensive, affected sweetness, which was evidently its habitual expression in conversation with women. “I am so enchanted by the wit and culture of the society — especially of the ladies — in which I have had the happiness to be received, that I have not yet had time to think of the climate,” he said. Not letting the abbé and Pierre slip out of her grasp, Anna Pavlovna, for greater convenience in watching them, made them join the bigger group. At that moment another guest walked into the drawing-room. This was the young Prince Andrey Bolkonsky, the husband of the little princess. Prince Bolkonsky was a very handsome young man, of medium height, with clear, clean-cut features. Everything in his appearance, from his weary, bored expression to his slow, measured step, formed the most striking contrast to his lively little wife. Obviously all the people in the drawing-room were familiar figures to him, and more than that, he was unmistakably so sick of them that even to look at them and to listen to them was a weariness to him. Of all the wearisome faces the face of his pretty wife seemed to bore him most. With a grimace that distorted his handsome face he turned away from her. He kissed Anna Pavlovna's hand, and with half-closed eyelids scanned the whole company. “You are enlisting for the war, prince?” said Anna Pavlovna. “General Kutuzov has been kind enough to have me as an aide-de-camp,” said Bolkonsky. “And Lise, your wife? —” “She is going into the country.” “Isn't it too bad of you to rob us of your charming wife?” “André,” said his wife, addressing her husband in exactly the same coquettish tone in which she spoke to outsiders, “the vicomte has just told us such a story about Mlle. Georges and Bonaparte!” Prince Andrey scowled and turned away. Pierre, who had kept his eyes joyfully and affectionately fixed on him ever since he came in, went up to him and took hold of his arm. Prince Andrey, without looking round, twisted his face into a grimace of annoyance at any one's touching him, but seeing Pierre's smiling face, he gave him a smile that was unexpectedly sweet and pleasant. “Why, you! … And in such society too,” he said to Pierre. “I knew you would be here,” answered Pierre. “I'm coming to supper with you,” he added in an undertone, not to interrupt the vicomte who was still talking. “Can I?” “Oh no, impossible,” said Prince Andrey, laughing, with a squeeze of his hand giving Pierre to understand that there was no need to ask. He would have said something more, but at that instant Prince Vassily and his daughter got up and the two young men rose to make way for them. “Pardon me, my dear vicomte,” said Prince Vassily in French, gently pulling him down by his sleeve to prevent him from getting up from his seat. “This luckless fête at the ambassador's deprives me of a pleasure and interrupts you. I am very sorry to leave your enchanting party,” he said to Anna Pavlovna. His daughter, Princess Ellen, lightly holding the folds of her gown, passed between the chairs, and the smile glowed more brightly than ever on her handsome face. Pierre looked with rapturous, almost frightened eyes at this beautiful creature as she passed them. “Very lovely!” said Prince Andrey. “Very,” said Pierre. As he came up to them, Prince Vassily took Pierre by the arm, and addressing Anna Pavlovna: “Get this bear into shape for me,” he said. “Here he has been staying with me for a month, and this is the first time I have seen him in society. Nothing's so necessary for a young man as the society of clever women.” |
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他说话时过分自信，谁也领悟不出，他说的话究竟是明智呢，抑或是愚昧之谈。他上身穿一件深绿色的燕尾服，正如他自己说的，下身穿一条cuissedenympheeffrayée①颜色的长裤，脚上穿一双长统袜和短靴皮鞋。 Vicomte②十分动听地讲起了当时广为流传的一则趣闻。昂吉安悄然抵达巴黎，去与m－lleGeorge③相会，在那里遇见亦曾博得这位女演员好感的波拿巴，拿破仑在和公爵见面之后，出人意料地昏倒了，他于是陷入公爵的势力范围，公爵并没有藉此机会控制他，但到后来拿破仑却把公爵杀害，以此回报公爵的宽厚。 这故事十分动听，饶有趣味，尤其是讲到这两个情敌忽然认出对方的时候，太太们心中似乎都觉得激动不安。 “Charmant，”④安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道，她一面回过头来用疑问的目光望望矮小的公爵夫人。 ①法语：受惊的自然女神的内体。 ②法语：子爵。 ③法语：名叫乔治的女演员。 ④法语：好得很。 “Charmant，”矮小的公爵夫人轻言细语地说，把一根针插在针线活上，好像用以表示，这故事十分有趣，十分动听，简直妨碍她继续做针线活儿。 子爵对这沉默的称赞给予适度的评价，他脸上露出感激的微笑，后又继续讲下去，但是，安娜·帕夫洛夫娜不时地看看使她觉得可怕的那个年轻人，这时她发觉他不知怎的在和神父一同热烈地、高声地谈话，她于是赶快跑去支援那个告急的地方。确实是这样，皮埃尔竟然和那神父谈论政治均衡的事题，看来那神父对这个年轻人的纯朴的热情发生兴趣，他于是在他面前尽量发挥地那自以为是的观点。二人兴致勃勃地、真诚坦率地交谈，聆听对方的意见，这就使得安娜·帕夫洛夫娜有点扫兴了。 “臻致欧洲均势与droitdesgens①，是一种手段，”神甫说道，“只要俄国这个以野蛮残暴著称于世的强国能够大公无私地站出来领导以臻致欧洲均势为目标的同盟，那就可以拯救世界了！” ①法语：民权。 “您究竟怎样去求得这种均衡呢？”皮埃尔本来要开腔，安娜·帕夫洛夫娜这时向他跟前走来，严肃地盯了皮埃尔一眼，问那个意大利人怎样才能熬得住本地的气候，意大利人的脸色忽然变了，现出一副看起来像是和女人交谈时他所惯用的假装得令人觉得委屈的谄媚的表情。 “我有幸加入你们的社会，你们的社会，尤其是妇女社会的那种优越的智慧和教育，真叫我神魂颠倒，因此我哪能事先想到气候呢。”他说。 安娜·帕夫洛夫娜不放走神父和皮埃尔，为着便于观察起见，便叫他们二人一同加入普通小组。 这时候，又有一个来宾走进了客厅。这位新客就是年轻的安德烈·博尔孔斯基公爵——矮小的公爵夫人的丈夫。博尔孔斯基公爵个子不大，是一个非常漂亮的青年，眉清目秀，面部略嫌消瘦。他整个外貌，从困倦而苦闷的目光到徐缓而匀整的脚步，和他那矮小而活泼的妻子恰恰相反，构成强烈的对照。显然，他不仅认识客厅里所有的人，而且他们都使他觉得厌烦，甚至连看看他们，听听他们谈话，他也感到索然无味。在所有这些使他厌恶的面孔中，他的俊俏的妻子的面孔似乎最使他生厌。他装出一副有损于他的美貌的丑相，把脸转过去不看她。他吻了一下安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的手，随后眯缝起眼睛，向众人环顾一遭。 “VousvousenroAlezpourlaguerre，monprince？①”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道。 “LegénéralKoutouzoff，”博尔孔斯基说道，像法国人一样，说库图佐夫一词时总把重音搁在最后一个音节上，“abiBenvouludemoipouraide－de－camp……”② “EtLise，votrefemme？”③ “她到农村去。” “您从我们身边夺去您的漂亮的太太应该吗？” “Andve，”④他的妻子说道，她对丈夫说话和对旁人说话都用同样娇媚的腔调，“子爵给我们讲了一则关于名叫乔治的小姐和波拿巴的故事，多么动听啊！” ①法语：公爵，您准备去打仗吗？ ②法语：库图佐夫将军要我做他的副官。 ③法语：您的夫人丽莎呢？ ④法语：安德烈。 安德烈公爵眯缝起眼睛，把脸转过去。安德烈公爵走进客厅之后，皮埃尔便很欣悦地、友善地望着他，一刻也没有转移目光，皮埃尔向前走去一把拉住他的手。安德烈公爵没有掉过头来看看，他蹙起额角，做出一副丑相，心里在埋怨碰到他的手臂的人，但当他望见皮埃尔含笑的面庞，他就出乎意外地流露出善意的、愉快的微笑。 “啊，原来如此！……你也跻身于稠人广众的交际场中了！”他对皮埃尔说道。 “我知道您会光临。”皮埃尔答道，“我上您那儿吃夜饭，” 他轻声地补充一句话，省得妨碍子爵讲故事，“行吗？” “不，不行。”安德烈公爵含笑地说道，一面握住皮埃尔的手，向他示意，要他不必多问。他还想说些什么话，但在这当儿瓦西里公爵随同他的女儿都站起来，退席了，男士们也都站起来让路。 “我亲爱的子爵，您原谅我吧，”瓦西里公爵对法国人说，态度温和地拉住他的衣袖往椅子上按一下，不让他站起身来。 “公使举办的这个不吉利的庆祝会要夺去我的欢乐，并且把您的话儿打断了。离开您这个令人陶醉的晚会，真使我觉得难受。”他对安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道。 他的女儿——名叫海伦的公爵小姐，用手轻轻地提起连衣裙褶，从椅子之间走出来，她那漂亮的脸盘上露出更愉快的微笑，当她从皮埃尔身旁走过时，皮埃尔惊喜地盯着这个美女。 “很标致。”安德烈公爵说。 “很标致。”皮埃尔说。 瓦西里公爵走过时，一把抓住皮埃尔的手，把脸转过来对安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道。 “请您教导教导这头狗熊吧，”他说道，“他在我家中住了一个月，我头一次在交际场所碰见他了。对一个青年来说，没有任何事物像聪明的女人们的社交团体那样迫切需要的了。” |
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CHAPTER IV Chinese ANNA PAVLOVNA smiled and promised to look after Pierre, who was, she knew, related to Prince Vassily on his father's side. The elderly lady, who had been till then sitting by the aunt, got up hurriedly, and over-took Prince Vassily in the hall. All the affectation of interest she had assumed till now vanished. Her kindly, careworn face expressed nothing but anxiety and alarm. “What have you to tell me, prince, of my Boris?” she said, catching him in the hall. “I can't stay any longer in Petersburg. Tell me what news am I to take to my poor boy?” Although Prince Vassily listened reluctantly and almost uncivilly to the elderly lady and even showed signs of impatience, she gave him an ingratiating and appealing smile, and to prevent his going away she took him by the arm. “It is nothing for you to say a word to the Emperor, and he will be transferred at once to the Guards,” she implored. “Believe me, I will do all I can, princess,” answered Prince Vassily; “but it's not easy for me to petition the Emperor. I should advise you to apply to Rumyantsov, through Prince Galitsin; that would be the wisest course.” The elderly lady was a Princess Drubetskoy, one of the best families in Russia; but she was poor, had been a long while out of society, and had lost touch with her former connections. She had come now to try and obtain the appointment of her only son to the Guards. It was simply in order to see Prince Vassily that she had invited herself and come to Anna Pavlovna's party, simply for that she had listened to the vicomte's story. She was dismayed at Prince Vassily's words; her once handsome face showed exasperation, but that lasted only one moment. She smiled again and grasped Prince Vassily's arm more tightly. “Hear what I have to say, prince,” she said. “I have never asked you a favour, and never will I ask one; I have never reminded you of my father's affection for you. But now, for God's sake, I beseech you, do this for my son, and I shall consider you my greatest benefactor,” she added hurriedly. “No, don't be angry, but promise me. I have asked Galitsin; he has refused. Be as kind as you used to be,” she said, trying to smile, though there were tears in her eyes. “Papa, we are late,” said Princess Ellen, turning her lovely head on her statuesque shoulders as she waited at the door. But influence in the world is a capital, which must be carefully guarded if it is not to disappear. Prince Vassily knew this, and having once for all reflected that if he were to beg for all who begged him to do so, he would soon be unable to beg for himself, he rarely made use of his influence. In Princess Drubetskoy's case, however, he felt after her new appeal something akin to a conscience-prick. She had reminded him of the truth; for his first step upwards in the service he had been indebted to her father. Besides this, he saw from her manner that she was one of those women—especially mothers—who having once taken an idea into their heads will not give it up till their wishes are fulfilled, and till then are prepared for daily, hourly persistence, and even for scenes. This last consideration made him waver. “Chère Anna Mihalovna,” he said, with his invariable familiarity and boredom in his voice, “it's almost impossible for me to do what you wish; but to show you my devotion to you, and my reverence for your dear father's memory, I will do the impossible—your son shall be transferred to the Guards; here is my hand on it. Are you satisfied?” “My dear prince, you are our benefactor. I expected nothing less indeed; I know how good you are—” He tried to get away. “Wait a moment, one word. Once in the Guards …” She hesitated. “You are on friendly terms with Mihail Ilarionovitch Kutuzov, recommend Boris as his adjutant. Then my heart will be set at rest, then indeed …” Prince Vassily smiled. “That I can't promise. You don't know how Kutuzov has been besieged ever since he has been appointed commander-in-chief. He told me himself that all the Moscow ladies were in league together to give him all their offspring as adjutants.” “No, promise me; I can't let you off, kind, good friend, benefactor …” “Papa,” repeated the beauty in the same tone, “we are late.” “Come, au revoir, good-bye. You see how it is.” “To-morrow then you will speak to the Emperor?” “Certainly; but about Kutuzov I can't promise.” “Yes; do promise, promise, Basile,” Anna Mihalovna said, pursuing him with the smile of a coquettish girl, once perhaps characteristic, but now utterly incongruous with her careworn face. Evidently she had forgotten her age and from habit was bringing out every feminine resource. But as soon as he had gone out her face assumed once more the frigid, artificial expression it had worn all the evening. She went back to the group in which the vicomte was still talking, and again affected to be listening, waiting for the suitable moment to get away, now that her object had been attained. “And what do you think of this latest farce of the coronation at Milan?” said Anna Pavlovna. “And the new comedy of the people of Lucca and Genoa coming to present their petitions to Monsieur Buonaparte. Monsieur Buonaparte sitting on a throne and granting the petitions of nations! Adorable! Why, it is enough to drive one out of one's senses! It seems as though the whole world had lost its head.” Prince Andrey smiled sarcastically, looking straight into Anna Pavlovna's face. “God gives it me; let man beware of touching it,” he said (Bonaparte's words uttered at the coronation). “They say that he was very fine as he spoke those words,” he added, and he repeated the same words in Italian: “Dio me l'ha data, e quai a chi la tocca.” “I hope that at last,” pursued Anna Pavlovna, “this has been the drop of water that will make the glass run over. The sovereigns cannot continue to endure this man who is a threat to everything.” “The sovereigns! I am not speaking of Russia,” said the vicomte deferentially and hopelessly. “The sovereigns! … Madame! What did they do for Louis the Sixteenth, for the queen, for Madame Elisabeth? Nothing,” he went on with more animation; “and believe me, they are undergoing the punishment of their treason to the Bourbon cause. The sovereigns! … They are sending ambassadors to congratulate the usurper.” And with a scornful sigh he shifted his attitude again. Prince Ippolit, who had for a long time been staring through his eyeglass at the vicomte, at these words suddenly turned completely round, and bending over the little princess asked her for a needle, and began showing her the coat-of-arms of the Condé family, scratching it with the needle on the table. He explained the coat-of-arms with an air of gravity, as though the princess had asked him about it. “Staff, gules; engrailed with gules of azure—house of Condé,” he said. The princess listened smiling. “If Bonaparte remains another year on the throne of France,” resumed the vicomte, with the air of a man who, being better acquainted with the subject than any one else, pursues his own train of thought without listening to other people, “things will have gone too far. By intrigue and violence, by exiles and executions, French society—I mean good society—will have been destroyed for ever, and then…” He shrugged his shoulders, and made a despairing gesture with his hand. Pierre wanted to say something—the conversation interested him —but Anna Pavlovna, who was keeping her eye on him, interposed. “And the Emperor Alexander,” she said with the pathetic note that always accompanied all her references to the imperial family, “has declared his intention of leaving it to the French themselves to choose their own form of government. And I imagine there is no doubt that the whole nation, delivered from the usurper, would fling itself into the arms of its lawful king,” said Anna Pavlovna, trying to be agreeable to an émigré and loyalist. “That's not certain,” said Prince Andrey. “M. le vicomte is quite right in supposing that things have gone too far by now. I imagine it would not be easy to return to the old régime.” “As far as I could hear,” Pierre, blushing, again interposed in the conversation, “almost all the nobility have gone over to Bonaparte.” “That's what the Bonapartists assert,” said the vicomte without looking at Pierre. “It's a difficult matter now to find out what public opinion is in France.” “Bonaparte said so,” observed Prince Andrey with a sarcastic smile. It was evident that he did not like the vicomte, and that though he was not looking at him, he was directing his remarks against him. “ ‘I showed them the path of glory; they would not take it,' ” he said after a brief pause, again quoting Napoleon's words. “ ‘I opened my anterooms to them; they crowded in.' … I do not know in what degree he had a right to say so.” |
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第四章 安娜·帕夫洛夫娜微微一笑，她答应接待皮埃尔，安娜知道瓦西里公爵是皮埃尔的父系的亲戚。原先和姑母坐在一起的已过中年的妇女赶快站起来，在接待室里赶上瓦西里公爵。原先她脸上假装出来的兴致已经消失了。她那仁慈的、痛哭流涕的面孔只露出惶恐不安的神色。 “公爵，关于我的鲍里斯的事，您能对我说些什么话呢？”她在接待室追赶他时说道。（她说到鲍里斯的名字时，特别在字母“U”上加重音）。“我不能在彼得堡再呆下去了。请您告诉我，我能给我那可怜的男孩捎去什么信息呢？” 尽管瓦西里公爵很不高兴地、近乎失礼地听这个已过中年的妇人说话，甚至表现出急躁的情绪，但是她仍向公爵流露出亲热的、令人感动的微笑，一把抓住他的手，不让他走掉。 “您只要向国王替我陈词，他就可以直接调往近卫军去了，这在您易如反掌。”她央求道。 “公爵夫人，请您相信。凡是我能办到的事，我一定为您办到，”瓦西里公爵答道，“但是向国王求情，我确有碍难。我劝您莫如借助于戈利岑公爵去晋见鲁缅采夫，这样办事更为明智。” 已过中年的妇人名叫德鲁别茨卡娅公爵夫人，她出身于俄国的名门望族之一，但是她现已清寒，早就步出了交际场所，失掉了往日的社交联系。她现在走来是为她的独子在近卫军中求职而斡旋。她自报姓氏，出席安娜·帕夫洛夫娜举办的晚会，其目的仅仅是要拜谒瓦西里公爵，也仅仅是为这一目的，她才聆听子爵讲故事。瓦西里公爵的一席话真使她大为震惊，她那昔日的俊俏的容貌现出了愤恨的神态，但是这神态只是继续了片刻而已，她又复微露笑意，把瓦西里公爵的手握得更紧了。 “公爵，请听我说吧，”她说道，“我从未向您求情，今后也不会向您求情，我从未向您吐露我父亲对您的深情厚谊。而今我以上帝神圣的名份向您恳求，请您为我儿子办成这件事吧，我必将把您视为行善的恩人，”她赶快补充一句话，“不，您不要气愤，就请您答应我的恳求吧。我向戈利岑求过情，他却拒之于千里之外。Soyezlebonenfantquevousavez ètè，”①她说道，竭力地露出微笑，但是她的眼睛里噙满了泪水。 ①法语：请您像以前那样行行善吧。 “爸爸，我们准会迟到啦，”呆在门边等候的公爵小姐海伦扭转她那长在极具古典美肩膀上的俊美的头部，开口说道。 但是，在上流社会上势力是一笔资本，要珍惜资本，不让它白白消耗掉。瓦西里公爵对于这一点知之甚稔，他心里想到，如果人人求他，他替人人求情，那末，在不久以后他势必无法替自己求情了，因此，他极少运用自己的势力。但是在名叫德鲁别茨卡娅的公爵夫人这桩事情上，经过她再次央求之后，他心里产生一种有如遭受良心谴责的感觉。她使公爵回想起真实的往事：公爵开始供职时，他所取得的成就归功于她的父亲。除此之外，从她的作为上他可以看到，有一些妇女，尤其是母亲，她们一作出主张，非如愿以偿，决不休止，否则，她们就准备每时每刻追随不舍，剌剌不休，甚至于相骂相斗，无理取闹，她就是这类的女人。想到最后这一点，使他有点动摇了。 “亲爱的安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜，”他说道，嗓音中带有他平素表露的亲昵而又苦闷的意味，“您希望办到的事，我几乎无法办到；但是，我要办妥这件不可能办妥的事，以便向您证明我对您的爱护和对您的去世的父亲的悼念，您的儿子以后会调到近卫军中去，您依靠我吧，我向您作出了保证，您觉得满意吗？” “我亲爱的，您是个行善的恩人！您这样做，正是我所盼望的。我知道您多么慈善。” 他要走了。 “请您等一等，还有两句话要讲。Unefoispasseaux gardes……①”她踌躇起来，“您和米哈伊尔·伊拉里奥诺维奇·库图佐夫的交情甚厚，请您把鲍里斯介绍给他当副官。那时候我就放心了，那时候也就……” 瓦西里公爵脸上流露出微笑。 ①法语：但当他调到近卫军中以后…… “我不能答应这件事。您不知道，自从库图佐夫被委任为总司令以来，人们一直在纠缠他。他曾亲自对我说，莫斯科的夫人们统统勾结起来了，要把她们自己的儿子送给库图佐夫当副官。” “不，您答应吧，否则，我就不放您走，我的亲爱的恩人。” “爸爸，”那个美人儿又用同样的音调重复地说了一遍，“我们准要迟到啦。” “啊，aurevoir①，再见吧，您心里明白她说的话吧？” “那末，您明天禀告国王吗？” “我一定禀告。可是我不能答应向库图佐夫求情的事。” “不，请您答应吧，请您答应吧，Basile”②，安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜跟在他身后说道，她脸上露出卖俏的少女的微笑，从前这大概是她惯有的一种微笑，而今它却与她那消瘦的面貌很不相称了。 显然，她已经忘记自己的年纪，她习以为常地耍出妇女向来所固有的种种手腕。但是当他一走出大门，她的脸上又浮现出原先那种冷漠的、虚伪的表情。她已经回到子爵还在继续讲故事的那个小姐那儿，又装出一副在听故事的模样，同时在等候退席离开的时机，因为她的事已经办妥了。 “可是，近来面世的dusacredeMilan③那幕喜剧，您认为如何？”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道，“EtlanouvellecomédiedespeuplesdeGênesetdeLucques，quiviennentprésenterleursvoeuxàM．Buonaparte，M，BuonaparteassissurunTrone，etexaucantlesvoeuxdesnations！Adorable！Non，maisc'estàendevenirfolle！Ondirait，quelemondeentieraperdulatete．④” ①法语：再见。 ②法语：瓦西里。 ③法语：《米兰的加冕典礼》。 ④法语：还有一幕新喜剧哩：热那亚和卢加各族民众向波拿巴先生表达自己的意愿。波拿巴先生坐在宝座上，居然满足了各族民众的愿望。呵！太美妙了！这真会令人疯狂。好像了不起似的，全世界都神魂颠倒了。 安德烈公爵直盯着安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的脸，发出了一阵冷笑。 “DieumeLadonne，gareàquilatouche，”他说道（这是波拿巴在加冕时说的话），“Onditqu'ilaététrèsbeauenprononcantcesporoles，①”他补充说，又用意大利语把这句话重说一遍，“Diomiladona，guaiachilatocca．” “J'espéreenfin，”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜继续说下去，“quecaaétélagoutted'eauquiferadeborderleverre．LessouBverainsnepeuventplussupportercethomme，quimenacetout．”② “Lessouverains？JeneparlepasdelaRuisie，”子爵彬彬有礼地，但却绝望地说道，“Lessouverains，madame！ Qu'ontilsfaitpourLouisⅩⅤⅡ，pourlareine，pourmadameElisabeth？Rien，”他兴奋地继续说下去，“Etcroyez－moi，ilssubissentlapunitionpourleurtrahisondelacausedesBourbons．Lessouverains？IlsenvoientdesambasBsadeurscomplimenterl'usurpateur③．” ①法语：上帝赐予我王冠，谁触到王冠，谁就会遭殃。据说，他说这句话时，派头十足。 ②法语：他已恶贯满盈，达到不可容忍的地步，我希望这是他的最后一桩罪行，各国国王再也不能容忍这个极尽威胁之能事的恶魔了。 ③法语：各国国王吗？我不是说俄国的情形。各国国王呀！他们为路易十七、为皇后、为伊丽莎白做了什么事？什么事也没有做。请你们相信我吧，他们因背叛波旁王朝的事业而遭受惩处。各国国王吗？他们还派遣大使去恭贺窃取王位的寇贼哩。 他鄙薄地叹了一口气，又变换了姿势。伊波利特戴上单目眼镜久久地望着子爵，他听到这些话时，忽然向那矮小的公爵夫人转过身去，向她要来一根针，便用针在桌子上描绘孔德徽章，指给她看。他意味深长地向她讲解这种徽章，好像矮小的公爵夫人请求他解释似的。 “Batondegueules，engrêlédegueulesd'azuz—maisonCondé，”①他说道。 公爵夫人微露笑容听着。 “如果波拿巴再保留一年王位，”子爵把开了头的话题儿继续讲下去，他讲话时带着那种神态，有如某人在一件他最熟悉的事情上不聆听他人的话，只注意自己的思路，一个劲儿说下去！“事情就越拖越久，以致不可收拾。阴谋诡计、横行霸道、放逐、死刑将会永远把法国这个社会，我所指的是法国上流社会，毁灭掉，到那时……” 他耸耸肩，两手一摊。皮埃尔本想说句什么话，子爵的话使他觉得有趣，但是窥伺他的安娜·帕夫洛夫娜把话打断了。 “亚历山大皇帝宣称，”她怀有一谈起皇室就会流露的忧郁心情说，“他让法国人自己选择政体形式，我深信，毫无疑义，只要解脱篡夺王位的贼寇的羁绊，举国上下立刻会掌握在合法的国王手上。”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道，尽量向这个侨居的君主主义者献殷勤。 “这话不太可靠，”安德烈公爵说。“Monsieurlevicomte②想得合情合理，事情做得太过火了。不过，我想，要走回原路，实在太难了。” ①法语：孔德的住宅——是用天蓝色的兽嘴缠成的兽嘴权杖的象征。 ②法语：子爵先生。 “据我所闻，”皮埃尔涨红着脸又插嘴了，“几乎全部贵族都已投靠波拿巴了。” “这是波拿巴分子说的话，”子爵不望皮埃尔一眼便说道，“眼下很难弄清法国的社会舆论。” “Bonapartel'adit，”①安德烈公爵冷冷一笑，说道。（看起来，他不喜欢子爵，没有望着子爵，不过这些话倒是针对子爵说的话。） “Jeleuraimontrélechemindelagloire，”他沉默片刻之后，又重复拿破仑的话，说道，“ilsn'enontpasvoulu，jeleuraiouvertmesantichambres，ilssesontprécipitesenfoule……Jenesaispasaquelpointilaeuledroitdeledire．”② “Aucun，”③子爵辩驳道，“谋杀了公爵以后，甚至连偏心的人也不认为他是英雄了。Simemecaaétéunhérospourcertainesgens，”子爵把脸转向安娜·帕夫洛夫娜，说道，“depuisl'assasinatduducilyaunmartyrdeplusdansleciel，unhérosdemoinssurlaterre．”④ ①法语：这是波拿巴说的话。 ②法语：“我向他们指出了一条光荣之路，他们不愿意走这条路；我给他们打开了前厅之门，他们成群地冲了进来……”我不知道他有多大的权利说这种话。 ③法语：无任何权利。 ④法语：即令他在某些人面前曾经是英雄，而在公爵被谋杀之后，天堂就多了一个受难者，尘世也就少了一个英雄。 |
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“None!” retorted the vicomte. “Since the duc's murder even his warmest partisans have ceased to regard him as a hero. If indeed some people made a hero of him,” said the vicomte addressing Anna Pavlovna, “since the duke's assassination there has been a martyr more in heaven, and a hero less on earth.” Anna Pavlovna and the rest of the company hardly had time to smile their appreciation of the vicomte's words, when Pierre again broke into the conversation, and though Anna Pavlovna had a foreboding he would say something inappropriate, this time she was unable to stop him. “The execution of the duc d'Enghien,” said Monsieur Pierre, “was a political necessity, and I consider it a proof of greatness of soul that Napoleon did not hesitate to take the whole responsibility of it upon himself.” “Dieu! mon Dieu!” moaned Anna Pavlovna, in a terrified whisper. “What, Monsieur Pierre! you think assassination is greatness of soul?” said the little princess, smiling and moving her work nearer to her. “Ah! oh!” cried different voices. “Capital!” Prince Ippolit said in English, and he began slapping his knee. The vicomte merely shrugged his shoulders. Pierre looked solemnly over his spectacles at his audience. “I say so,” he pursued desperately, “because the Bourbons ran away from the Revolution, leaving the people to anarchy; and Napoleon alone was capable of understanding the Revolution, of overcoming it, and so for the public good he could not stop short at the life of one man.” “Won't you come over to this table?” said Anna Pavlovna. But Pierre went on without answering her. “Yes,” he said, getting more and more eager, “Napoleon is great because he has towered above the Revolution, and subdued its evil tendencies, preserving all that was good—the equality of all citizens, and freedom of speech and of the press, and only to that end has he possessed himself of supreme power.” “Yes, if on obtaining power he had surrendered it to the lawful king, instead of making use of it to commit murder,” said the vicomte, “then I might have called him a great man.” “He could not have done that. The people gave him power simply for him to rid them of the Bourbons, and that was just why the people believed him to be a great man. The Revolution was a grand fact,” pursued Monsieur Pierre, betraying by this desperate and irrelevantly provocative statement his extreme youth and desire to give full expression to everything. “Revolution and regicide a grand fact?…What next?…but won't you come to this table?” repeated Anna Pavlovna. “Contrat social,” said the vicomte with a bland smile. “I'm not speaking of regicide. I'm speaking of the idea.” “The idea of plunder, murder, and regicide!” an ironical voice put in. “Those were extremes, of course; but the whole meaning of the Revolution did not lie in them, but in the rights of man, in emancipation from conventional ideas, in equality; and all these Napoleon has maintained in their full force.” “Liberty and equality,” said the vicomte contemptuously, as though he had at last made up his mind to show this youth seriously all the folly of his assertions: “all high-sounding words, which have long since been debased. Who does not love liberty and equality? Our Saviour indeed preached liberty and equality. Have men been any happier since the Revolution? On the contrary. We wanted liberty, but Bonaparte has crushed it.” Prince Andrey looked with a smile first at Pierre, then at the vicomte, then at their hostess. For the first minute Anna Pavlovna had, in spite of her social adroitness, been dismayed by Pierre's outbreak; but when she saw that the vicomte was not greatly discomposed by Pierre's sacrilegious utterances, and had convinced herself that it was impossible to suppress them, she rallied her forces and joined the vicomte in attacking the orator. “Mais, mon cher Monsieur Pierre,” said Anna Pavlovna, “what have you to say for a great man who was capable of executing the due—or simply any human being—guiltless and untried?” “I should like to ask,” said the vicomte, “how monsieur would explain the 18th of Brumaire? Was not that treachery?” “It was a juggling trick not at all like a great man's way of acting.” “And the wounded he killed in Africa?” said the little princess; “that was awful!” And she shrugged her shoulders. “He's a plebeian, whatever you may say,” said Prince Ippolit. Monsieur Pierre did not know which to answer. He looked at them all and smiled. His smile was utterly unlike the half-smile of all the others. When he smiled, suddenly, instantaneously, his serious, even rather sullen, face vanished completely, and a quite different face appeared, childish, good-humoured, even rather stupid, that seemed to beg indulgence. The vicomte, who was seeing him for the first time, saw clearly that this Jacobin was by no means so formidable as his words. Every one was silent. “How is he to answer every one at once?” said Prince Andrey. “Besides, in the actions of a statesman, one must distinguish between his acts as a private person and as a general or an emperor. So it seems to me.” “Yes, yes, of course,” put in Pierre, delighted at the assistance that had come to support him. “One must admit,” pursued Prince Andrey, “that Napoleon as a man was great at the bridge of Arcola, or in the hospital at Jaffa, when he gave his hand to the plague-stricken, but…but there are other actions it would be hard to justify.” Prince Andrey, who obviously wished to relieve the awkwardness of Pierre's position, got up to go, and made a sign to his wife. Suddenly Prince Ippolit got up, and with a wave of his hands stopped every one, and motioning to them to be seated, began: “Ah, I heard a Moscow story to-day; I must entertain you with it. You will excuse me, vicomte, I must tell it in Russian. If not, the point of the story will be lost.” And Prince Ippolit began speaking in Russian, using the sort of jargon Frenchmen speak after spending a year in Russia. Every one waited expectant; Prince Ippolit had so eagerly, so insistently called for the attention of all for his story. “In Moscow there is a lady, une dame. And she is very stingy. She wanted to have two footmen behind her carriage. And very tall footmen. That was her taste. And she had a lady's maid, also very tall. She said…” Here Prince Ippolit paused and pondered, apparently collecting his ideas with difficulty. “She said…yes, she said: ‘Girl,' to the lady's maid, ‘put on livrée, and get up behind the carriage, to pay calls.' ” Here Prince Ippolit gave a loud guffaw, laughing long before any of his audience, which created an impression by no means flattering to him. Several persons, among them the elderly lady and Anna Pavlovna, did smile, however. “She drove off. Suddenly there was a violent gust of wind. The girl lost her hat, and her long hair fell down…” At this point he could not restrain himself, and began laughing violently, articulating in the middle of a loud guffaw, “And all the world knew…” There the anecdote ended. Though no one could understand why he had told it, and why he had insisted on telling it in Russian, still Anna Pavlovna and several other people appreciated the social breeding of Prince Ippolit in so agreeably putting a close to the disagreeable and illbred outbreak of Monsieur Pierre. The conversation after this episode broke up into small talk of no interest concerning the last and the approaching ball, the theatre, and where and when one would meet so-and-so again. |
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安娜·帕夫洛夫娜和其他人还来不及微露笑容表示赏识子爵讲的这番话，皮埃尔又兴冲冲地谈起话来了，尽管安娜·帕夫洛夫娜预感到他会开口说些有伤大雅的话，可是她已经无法遏止他了。 “处昂吉安公爵以死刑，”皮埃尔说道，“此举对国家大有必要。拿破仑不怕独自一人承担责任，我由此看出，这正是他精神伟大之所在。” “Dieu！mondieu！”①安娜·帕夫洛夫娜以低沉而可怖的嗓音说道。 “Comment，M．Pierre，voustrouvezquel'assassinatestgrandeurd'aAme？”②矮小的公爵夫人说道，她一面微微发笑，一面把针线活儿移到她自己近旁。 “嗬！啊呀！”几个人异口同声地说道。 “Capital！”③伊波利特公爵说了一句英国话，他用手掌敲打着膝头。子爵只是耸耸肩膀。 ①法语：天哪，我的天哪！ ②法语：皮埃尔先生，您把谋杀看作是精神的伟大吗？ ③英语：好得很！ 皮埃尔心情激动地朝眼镜上方瞅了瞅听众。 “我之所以这样说，”他毫无顾忌地继续说下去，“是因为波旁王朝回避革命，让人民处在无政府状态，唯独拿破仑善于理解革命，制服革命，因此，为共同福利起见，他不能顾及一人之命而停步不前。” “您愿不愿意到那张桌上去？”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道。可是皮埃尔不回答，继续讲下去。 “不，”他愈益兴奋地说，“拿破仑所以伟大，是因为他高踞于革命之上，摒除了革命的弊病，保存了一切美好的事物——公民平等呀，言论出版自由呀，仅仅因为这个缘故，他才赢得了政权。” “是的，假如他在夺取政权之后，不滥用政权来大肆屠杀，而把它交给合法的君王。”子爵说，“那么，我就会把他称为一位伟人。” “他不能做出这等事。人民把政权交给他，目的仅仅是要他把人民从波旁王朝之下解救出来，因此人民才把他视为一位伟人。革命是一件伟大的事业，”皮埃尔先生继续说道。他毫无顾忌地、挑战似地插进这句话，借以显示他风华正茂，想快点把话儿全部说出来。 “革命和杀死沙皇都是伟大的事业吗？……从此以后……您愿不愿意到那张桌上去？”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜把话重说了一遍。 “《Contratsocial》，”①子爵流露出温顺的微笑，说道。 ①法语：《民约论》——卢梭著。 “我不是说杀死沙皇，而是说思想问题。” “是的，抢夺、谋杀、杀死沙皇的思想。”一个含有讥讽的嗓音又打断他的话了。 “不消说，这是万不得已而采取的行动，但全部意义不止于此，其意义在于**、摆脱偏见的束缚、公民的平等权益。 拿破仑完全保存了所有这些思想。” “自由与平等，”子爵蔑视地说，好像他终究拿定主意向这个青年证明他的一派胡言，“这都是浮夸的话，早已声名狼藉了。有谁不热爱自由与平等？我们的救世主早就鼓吹过自由平等。难道人们在革命以后变得更幸福么？恰恰相反。我们都希望自由，而拿破仑却取缔自由。” 安德烈公爵面露微笑，时而瞧瞧皮埃尔，时而瞧瞧子爵，时而瞧瞧女主人。开初，安娜·帕夫洛夫娜虽有上流社会应酬的习惯，却很害怕皮埃尔的乖戾举动。但是一当她看到，皮埃尔虽然说出一些渎神的坏话，子爵并没有大动肝火，在她相信不可能遏止这些言谈的时候，她就附和子爵，集中精力来攻击发言人了。 “Mais，moncherm－rPierre，”①安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道，“一个大人物可以判处公爵死刑，以至未经开庭审判、毫无罪证亦可处死任何人，您对这事作何解释呢？” “我想问一问，”子爵说道，“先生对雾月十八日作何解释呢？这岂不是骗局么？C'estunescamotage，quineressemblenullementàlamanièred'agird'ungrandhomme．”②“可他杀掉了非洲的俘虏呢？”矮小的公爵夫人说道，“这多么骇人啊！”她耸耸肩膀。 “C'estunroturier，voussurezbeaudire，”③伊波利特公爵说道。 ①法语：可是，我亲爱的皮埃尔先生。 ②法语：这是欺骗手法，根本不像大人物的行为方法。 ③法语：无论您怎么说，是个暴发户。 皮埃尔先生不晓得应该向谁回答才对，他朝大伙儿扫了一眼，脸上露出了一阵微笑。他的微笑和他人难得露出笑容的样子不一样。恰恰相反，当他面露微笑的时候，那种一本正经、甚至略嫌忧愁的脸色，零时间就消失了，又露出一副幼稚、慈善、甚至有点傻气、俨如在乞求宽恕的神态。 子爵头一次和他会面，可是他心里明白，这个雅各宾党人根本不像他的谈吐那样令人生畏。大家都沉默无言了。 “你们怎么想要他马上向大家作出回答呢？”安德烈公爵说道，“而且在一个国家活动家的行为上，必须分清，什么是私人行为，什么是统帅或皇帝的行为。我认为如此而已。” “是的，是的，这是理所当然的事，”皮埃尔随着说起来，有人在帮忙，他高兴极了。 “不能不承认，”安德烈公爵继续说下去，“从拿破仑在阿尔科拉桥上的表现看来，他是一位伟人，拿破仑在雅法医院向鼠疫患者伸出援助之手，从表现看来，他是一位伟人，但是……但是他有一些别的行为，却令人难以辩解。” 显然，安德烈公爵想冲淡一下皮埃尔说的尴尬话，他欠起身来，向妻子做了个手势，打算走了。 忽然，伊波利特公爵站起身来，他以手势挽留大家，要他们坐下，于是开腔说话了： “Ah！aujourd'huionm'aracontéuneanecdote moscovite，charmante：ilfautquejevousenrégale．Vousm'excusez，vicomte，ilfautquejeravconteenrusse．Autrementonnesentirapasleseldel'histoire①” 伊波利特公爵讲起俄国话来了，那口音听来就像一个在俄国呆了一年左右的法国人讲的俄国话。大家都停顿下来，伊波利特公爵十分迫切地要求大家用心听他讲故事。 “莫斯科有个太太，unedame②，十分吝啬。她需要两名跟马车的valetsdepied③，身材要魁梧。这是她个人所好。她有unefemmedechambre④，个子也高大。她说……” 这时分，伊波利特公爵沉思起来了，显然在暗自盘算。 “她说……是的，她说：婢女（àlafemmedechambre），你穿上livrée，⑤跟在马车后面，我们一同去fairedesvisBites．⑥” ①法语：嗬！今天有人给我讲了一则十分动听的莫斯科趣闻，也应该讲给你们听听，让你们分享一份乐趣。子爵，请您原谅吧，我要用俄国话来讲，要不然，趣闻就会没有趣味了。 ②法语：一个太太。 ③法语：仆人。 ④法语：一个女仆。 ⑤法语：宫廷内侍制服。 ⑥法语：拜会。 伊波利特公爵早就噗嗤一声大笑起来，这时，听众们还没有面露笑容，这一声大笑产生的印象对讲故事的人极为不利。然而，也有许多人，就中包括已过中年的太太和安娜·帕夫洛夫娜，都发出了一阵微笑。 “她坐上马车走了。忽然间起了一阵狂风。婢女丢掉了帽子，给风刮走了，梳理得整整齐齐的长发显得十分零乱……” 这时，他再也忍不住了，发出了若断若续的笑声，他透过笑声说道： “上流社会都知道了……” 他讲的趣闻到此结束了。虽然不明了他为何要讲这则趣闻，为何非用俄国话讲不可，然而，安娜·帕夫洛夫娜和其他人都赏识伊波利特公爵在上流社会中待人周到的风格，赏识他这样高兴地结束了皮埃尔先生令人厌恶的、失礼的闹剧。在讲完趣闻之后，谈话变成了零星而琐细的闲聊。谈论到上回和下回的舞会、戏剧，并且谈论到何时何地与何人会面的事情。 |
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CHAPTER V Chinese THANKING ANNA PAVLOVNA for her charmante soirée, the guests began to take leave. Pierre was clumsy, stout and uncommonly tall, with huge red hands; he did not, as they say, know how to come into a drawing-room and still less how to get out of one, that is, how to say something particularly agreeable on going away. Moreover, he was dreamy. He stood up, and picking up a three-cornered hat with the plume of a general in it instead of his own, he kept hold of it, pulling the feathers till the general asked him to restore it. But all his dreaminess and his inability to enter a drawing-room or talk properly in it were atoned for by his expression of good-nature, simplicity and modesty. Anna Pavlovna turned to him, and with Christian meekness signifying her forgiveness for his misbehaviour, she nodded to him and said: “I hope I shall see you again, but I hope too you will change your opinions, my dear Monsieur Pierre.” He made no answer, simply bowed and displayed to every one once more his smile, which said as plainly as words: “Opinions or no opinions, you see what a nice, good-hearted fellow I am.” And Anna Pavlovna and every one else instinctively felt this. Prince Andrey had gone out into the hall and turning his shoulders to the footman who was ready to put his cloak on him, he listened indifferently to his wife's chatter with Prince Ippolit, who had also come out into the hall. Prince Ippolit stood close to the pretty princess, so soon to be a mother, and stared persistently straight at her through his eyeglass. “Go in, Annette, you'll catch cold,” said the little princess, saying good-bye to Anna Pavlovna. “It is settled,” she added in a low voice. Anna Pavlovna had managed to have a few words with Liza about the match she was planning between Anatole and the sister-in-law of the little princess. “I rely on you, my dear,” said Anna Pavlovna, also in an undertone; “you write to her and tell me how the father will view the matter. Au revoir!” And she went back out of the hall. Prince Ippolit went up to the little princess and, bending his face down close to her, began saying something to her in a half whisper. Two footmen, one the princess's, the other his own, stood with shawl and redingote waiting till they should finish talking, and listened to their French prattle, incomprehensible to them, with faces that seemed to say that they understood what was being said but would not show it. The princess, as always, talked with a smile and listened laughing. “I'm very glad I didn't go to the ambassador's,” Prince Ippolit was saying: “such a bore.…A delightful evening it has been, hasn't it? delightful.” “They say the ball will be a very fine one,” answered the little princess, twitching up her downy little lip. “All the pretty women are to be there.” “Not all, since you won't be there; not all,” said Prince Ippolit, laughing gleefully; and snatching the shawl from the footman, shoving him aside as he did so, he began putting it on the little princess. Either from awkwardness or intentionally—no one could have said which—he did not remove his arms for a long while after the shawl had been put on, as it were holding the young woman in his embrace. Gracefully, but still smiling, she moved away, turned round and glanced at her husband. Prince Andrey's eyes were closed: he seemed weary and drowsy. “Are you ready?” he asked his wife, avoiding her eyes. Prince Ippolit hurriedly put on his redingote, which in the latest mode hung down to his heels, and stumbling over it, ran out on to the steps after the princess, whom the footman was assisting into the carriage. “Princesse, au revoir,” he shouted, his tongue tripping like his legs. The princess, picking up her gown, seated herself in the darkness of the carriage; her husband was arranging his sabre; Prince Ippolit, under the pretence of assisting, was in every one's way. “Allow me, sir,” Prince Andrey said in Russian drily and disagreeably to Prince Ippolit, who prevented his passing. “I expect you, Pierre,” the same voice called in warm and friendly tones. The postillion started at a trot, and the carriage rumbled away. Prince Ippolit gave vent to a short, jerky guffaw, as he stood on the steps waiting for the vicomte, whom he had promised to take home. “Well, my dear fellow, your little princess is very good-looking, very good-looking,” said the vicomte, as he sat in the carriage with Ippolit. “Very good-looking indeed;” he kissed his finger tips. “And quite French.” Ippolit snorted and laughed. “And, do you know, you are a terrible fellow with that little innocent way of yours,” pursued the vicomte. “I am sorry for the poor husband, that officer boy who gives himself the airs of a reigning prince.” Ippolit guffawed again, and in the middle of a laugh articulated: “And you said that the Russian ladies were not equal to the French ladies. You must know how to take them.” Pierre, arriving first, went to Prince Andrey's study, like one of the household, and at once lay down on the sofa, as his habit was, and taking up the first book he came upon in the shelf (it was Cæsar's Commentaries) he propped himself on his elbow, and began reading it in the middle. “What a shock you gave Mlle. Scherer! She'll be quite ill now,” Prince Andrey said, as he came into the study rubbing his small white hands. Pierre rolled his whole person over so that the sofa creaked, turned his eager face to Prince Andrey, smiled and waved his hand to him. “Oh, that abbé was very interesting, only he's got a wrong notion about it.…To my thinking, perpetual peace is possible, but I don't know how to put it.…Not by means of the balance of political power.…” Prince Andrey was obviously not interested in these abstract discussions. “One can't always say all one thinks everywhere, mon cher. Come tell me, have you settled on anything at last? Are you going into the cavalry or the diplomatic service?” asked Prince Andrey, after a momentary pause. Pierre sat on the sofa with his legs crossed under him. “Can you believe it, I still don't know. I don't like either.” “But you must decide on something; you know your father's expecting it.” At ten years old Pierre had been sent with an abbé as tutor to be educated abroad, and there he remained till he was twenty. When he returned to Moscow, his father had dismissed the tutor and said to the young man: “Now you go to Petersburg, look about you and make your choice. I agree to anything. Here is a letter to Prince Vassily and here is money. Write and tell me everything; I will help you in everything.” Pierre had been three months already choosing a career and had not yet made his choice. It was of this choice Prince Andrey spoke to him now. Pierre rubbed his forehead. “But he must be a freemason,” he said, meaning the abbé he had seen that evening. “That's all nonsense,” Prince Andrey pulled him up again; “we'd better talk of serious things. Have you been to the Horse Guards?” “No, I haven't; but this is what struck me and I wanted to talk to you about it. This war now is against Napoleon. If it were a war for freedom, I could have understood it, I would have been the first to go into the army; but to help England and Austria against the greatest man in the world—that's not right.” Prince Andrey simply shrugged his shoulders at Pierre's childish words. He looked as though one really could not answer such absurdities. But in reality it was hard to find any answer to this naïve question other than the answer Prince Andrey made. “If every one would only fight for his own convictions, there'd be no war,” he said. “And a very good thing that would be too,” said Pierre. Prince Andrey smiled ironically. “Very likely it would be a good thing, but it will never come to pass…” “Well, what are you going to the war for?” asked Pierre. “What for? I don't know. Because I have to. Besides, I'm going…” he stopped. “I'm going because the life I lead here, this life is—not to my taste!” |
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第五章 客人们都向安娜·帕夫洛夫娜道谢，多亏她举行这次charmantesoirée①，开始散场了。 ①法语：迷人的晚会。 皮埃尔笨手笨脚。他长得非常肥胖，身材比普通人高，肩宽背厚，一双发红的手又粗又壮。正如大家所说的那样，他不熟谙进入沙龙的规矩，更不熟谙走出沙龙的规矩，很不内行，即是说，他不会在出门之前说两句十分悦耳的话。除此而外，他还颟颟顸顸。他站立起来，随手拿起一顶带有将军羽饰的三角帽，而不去拿自己的阔边帽，他手中拿着三角帽，不停地扯着帽缨，直至那个将军索回三角帽为止。不过他的善良、憨厚和谦逊的表情弥补了他那漫不经心、不熟谙进入沙龙的规矩、不擅长在沙龙中说话的缺陷。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜向他转过脸来，抱有基督徒的温和态度，对他乖戾的举动表示宽恕，点点头对他说道： “我亲爱的皮埃尔先生，我希望再能和您见面，但是我也希望您能改变您的见解。”她说道。 当她对他说这话时，他一言未答，只是行了一鞠躬礼，又向大家微微一笑，这微笑没有说明什么涵义，大概只能表示，“意见总之是意见，可你们知道，我是一个多么好、多么善良的人。”所有的人随同安娜·帕夫洛夫娜，都不由自主地产生了这个感想。 安德烈公爵走到接待室，他向给他披斗篷的仆人挺起肩膀，冷淡地听听他妻子和那位也走到接待室来的伊波利特公爵闲谈。伊波利特站在长得标致的身已怀胎的公爵夫人侧边，戴起单目眼镜目不转睛地直盯着她。 “安内特，您进去吧，您会伤风的，”矮小的公爵夫人一面向安娜·帕夫洛夫娜告辞，一面对她说。“C'estarrèté①，” 她放低嗓门补充说。 安娜·帕夫洛夫娜已经和丽莎商谈过她想要给阿纳托利和矮小的公爵夫人的小姑子说媒的事情。 “亲爱的朋友，我信任您了，”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜也放低嗓门说道，“您给她写封信，再告诉我，commentlepéreenvisBageralachose．Aurevoir②。”她于是离开招待室。 ①法语：就这样确定了。 ②法语：您父亲对这件事的看法。再会。 伊波利特公爵走到矮小的公爵夫人近旁，弯下腰来把脸凑近她，轻言细语地对她说些什么话。 两名仆人，一名是公爵夫人的仆人，他手中拿着肩巾，另一名是他的仆人，他手上提着长礼服，伫立在那里等候他们把话说完毕。他们听着他们心里不懂的法国话，那神态好像他们懂得似的，可是不想流露出他们听懂的神色。公爵夫人一如平常，笑容可掬地谈吐，听话时面露笑意。 “我非常高兴，我没有到公使那里去，”伊波利特公爵说道，“令人纳闷……晚会真美妙，是不是，真美妙？” “有人说，舞会妙极了，”公爵夫人噘起长满茸毛的小嘴唇道，“社团中美貌的女人都要在那里露面。” “不是所有的女人，因为您就不出席，不是所有女人，”伊波利特公爵说，洋洋得意地大笑，他霍地从仆人手中拿起肩巾，甚至推撞他，把肩巾披在公爵夫人身上。不知是动作不灵活还是蓄意这样做（谁也搞不清是怎么回事），肩巾还披在她身上，他却久久地没有把手放开，俨像在拥抱那个少妇似的。 她一直微露笑容，风度优雅地避开他，转过身来望了望丈夫。安德烈公爵阖上了眼睛，他似乎十分困倦，现出昏昏欲睡的神态。 “您已准备就绪了吧？”他向妻子问道，目光却回避她。 伊波利特公爵急急忙忙地穿上他那件新款式的长过脚后跟的长礼服，有点绊脚地跑到台阶上去追赶公爵夫人，这时分，仆人搀着她坐上马车。 “Princesse，aurevoir①．”他高声喊道，他的舌头也像两腿被礼服绊住那样，几乎要说不出话来。 ①法语：公爵夫人，再会。 公爵夫人撩起连衣裙，在那昏暗的马车中坐下来，她的丈夫在整理军刀，以效劳作为藉口的伊波利特公爵打扰了大家。 “先生，请让开。”伊波利特公爵妨碍安德烈公爵走过去，安德烈公爵于是冷冰冰地、满不高兴地用俄国话对他说道。 “皮埃尔，我在等候你。”安德烈公爵用那同样温柔悦耳的嗓音说道。 前导马御手开动了马车，马车车轮于是隆隆地响了起来。伊波利特公爵发出若断若续的笑声，站在门廊上等候子爵，他已答应乘车送子爵回家。 “呵，亲爱的，您这位矮小的公爵夫人十分可爱。十分可爱。简直是个法国女人。”子爵和伊波利特在马车中并排坐下来，说道。他吻了一下自己的指头尖。 伊波利特噗嗤一声笑了起来。 “您知不知道，您那纯真无瑕的样子真骇人，”子爵继续说下去，“我为这个可怜的丈夫——硬充是世袭领主的小军官表示遗憾。” 伊波利特又噗嗤一声笑了，透过笑声说道： “可是您说过，俄国女士抵不过法国女士。要善于应付。” 皮埃尔先行到达，他像家里人一样走进了安德烈公爵的书斋，习以为常地立刻躺在沙发上，从书架上随便拿起一本书（这是凯撒写的《见闻录》），他用臂肘支撑着身子，从书本的半中间读了起来。 “你对舍列尔小姐怎么样？她现在完全病倒了。”安德烈公爵搓搓他那洁白的小手走进书斋时说道。 皮埃尔把整个身子翻了过来。沙发给弄得轧轧作响，他把神彩奕奕的脸孔转向安德烈公爵，露出一阵微笑，又把手挥动一下。 “不，这个神父很有风趣，只是不太明白事理……依我看，永久和平有可能实现，但是我不会把这件事说得透彻……横直不是凭藉政治均衡的手段……” 显然，安德烈公爵对这些抽象的话题不发生兴趣。 “我亲爱的，你不能到处把你想说的话一股脑儿说出来，啊，怎么样，你终究拿定了什么主意？你要做一名近卫重骑兵团的士兵，还是做一名外交官？”安德烈公爵在沉默片刻之后问道。 “您可以想象，我还不知道啦。这二者我都不喜欢。” “可你要知道，总得拿定主意吧？你父亲在期望呢。” 皮埃尔从十岁起便随同做家庭教师的神父被送到国外去了，他在国外住到二十岁。当他回到莫斯科以后，他父亲把神父解雇了，并对这个年轻人说道：“你现在就到彼得堡去吧，观光一下，选个职务吧。我什么事情都同意。这是一封写给瓦西里公爵的信，这是给你用的钱。你把各种情况写信告诉我吧，我会在各个方面助你一臂之力。”皮埃尔选择职务选了三个月，可是一事无成。安德烈公爵也和他谈到选择职务这件事。皮埃尔揩了一下额头上的汗。 “他必然是个共济会会员。”他说道，心里指的是他在一次晚会上见过面的那个神父。 “这全是胡言乱语，”安德烈公爵又制止他，说道：“让我们最好谈谈正经事吧。你到过骑兵近卫军没有？……” “没有，我没有去过，可是我脑海中想到一件事，要和您谈谈才好。目前这一场战争，是反对拿破仑的战争。假如这是一场争取自由的战争，那我心中就会一明二白，我要头一个去服兵役。可是帮助美国和奥地利去反对世界上一个最伟大的人……这就很不好了。” 安德烈公爵对皮埃尔这种稚气的言谈只是耸耸肩膀而已。他做出一副对这种傻话无可回答的神态，诚然，对这种幼稚的问题，只能像安德烈公爵那样作答，真难以作出他种答案。 “设若人人只凭信念而战，那就无战争可言了。”他说。 “这就美不胜言了。”皮埃尔说道。 安德烈公爵发出了一阵苦笑。 “也许，这真是美不胜言，但是，这种情景永远不会出现……” “啊，您为什么要去作战呢？”皮埃尔问道。 “为什么？我也不知道，应当这样做。除此而外，我去作战……”他停顿下来了，“我去作战是因为我在这里所过的这种生活，这种生活不合乎我的心愿！” |
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CHAPTER VI THERE was the rustle of a woman's dress in the next room. Prince Andrey started up, as it were pulling himself together, and his face assumed the expression it had worn in Anna Pavlovna's drawing-room. Pierre dropped his legs down off the sofa. The princess came in. She had changed her gown, and was wearing a house dress as fresh and elegant as the other had been. Prince Andrey got up and courteously set a chair for her. “Why is it, I often wonder,” she began in French as always, while she hurriedly and fussily settled herself in the low chair, “why is it Annette never married? How stupid you gentlemen all are not to have married her. You must excuse me, but you really have no sense about women. What an argumentative person you are, Monsieur Pierre!” “I'm still arguing with your husband; I can't make out why he wants to go to the war,” said Pierre, addressing the princess without any of the affectation so common in the attitude of a young man to a young woman. The princess shivered. Clearly Pierre's words touched a tender spot. “Ah, that's what I say,” she said. “I can't understand, I simply can't understand why men can't get on without war. Why is it we women want nothing of the sort? We don't care for it. Come, you shall be the judge. I keep saying to him: here he is uncle's adjutant, a most brilliant position. He's so well known, so appreciated by every one. The other day at the Apraxins' I heard a lady ask: ‘So that is the famous Prince André? Upon my word!' ” She laughed. “He's asked everywhere. He could very easily be a flügel-adjutant. You know the Emperor has spoken very graciously to him. Annette and I were saying it would be quite easy to arrange it. What do you think?” Pierre looked at Prince Andrey, and, noticing that his friend did not like this subject, made no reply. “When are you starting?” he asked. “Ah, don't talk to me about that going away; don't talk about it. I won't even hear it spoken of,” said the princess in just the capriciously playful tone in which she had talked to Ippolit at the soirée, a tone utterly incongruous in her own home circle, where Pierre was like one of the family. “This evening when I thought all these relations so precious to me must be broken off.…And then, you know, André?” She looked significantly at her husband. “I'm afraid! I'm afraid!” she whispered, twitching her shoulder. Her husband looked at her as though he were surprised to observe that there was some one in the room beside himself and Pierre, and with frigid courtesy he addressed an inquiry to his wife. “What are you afraid of, Liza? I don't understand,” he said. “See what egoists all men are; they are all, all egoists! Of his own accord, for his own whim, for no reason whatever, he is deserting me, shutting me up alone in the country.” “With my father and sister, remember,” said Prince Andrey quietly. “It's just the same as alone, without my friends.…And he doesn't expect me to be afraid.” Her tone was querulous now, her upper lip was lifted, giving her face not a joyous expression, but a wild-animal look, like a squirrel. She paused as though feeling it indecorous to speak of her condition before Pierre, though the whole gist of the matter lay in that. “I still don't understand what you are afraid of,” Prince Andrey said deliberately, not taking his eyes off his wife. The princess flushed red, and waved her hands despairingly. “No, André, I say you are so changed, so changed…” “Your doctor's orders were that you were to go to bed earlier,” said Prince Andrey. “It's time you were asleep.” The princess said nothing, and suddenly her short, downy lip began to quiver; Prince Andrey got up and walked about the room, shrugging his shoulders. Pierre looked over his spectacles in naïve wonder from him to the princess, and stirred uneasily as though he too meant to get up, but had changed his mind. “What do I care if Monsieur Pierre is here,” the little princess said suddenly, her pretty face contorted into a tearful grimace; “I have long wanted to say to you, Andrey, why are you so changed to me? What have I done? You go away to the war, you don't feel for me. Why is it?” “Liza!” was all Prince Andrey said, but in that one word there was entreaty and menace, and, most of all, conviction that she would herself regret her words; but she went on hurriedly. “You treat me as though I were ill, or a child. I see it all. You weren't like this six months ago.” “Liza, I beg you to be silent,” said Prince Andrey, still more expressively. Pierre, who had been growing more and more agitated during this conversation, got up and went to the princess. He seemed unable to endure the sight of her tears, and was ready to weep himself. “Please don't distress yourself, princess. You only fancy that because …I assure you, I've felt so myself…because…through…oh, excuse me, an outsider has no business…Oh, don't distress yourself…goodbye.” Prince Andrey held his hand and stopped him. “No, stay a little, Pierre. The princess is so good, she would not wish to deprive me of the pleasure of spending an evening with you.” “No, he thinks of nothing but himself,” the princess declared, not attempting to check her tears of anger. “Liza,” said Prince Andrey drily, raising his voice to a pitch that showed his patience was exhausted. All at once the angry squirrel expression of the princess's lovely little face changed to an attractive look of terror that awakened sympathy. She glanced from under her brows with lovely eyes at her husband, and her face wore the timorous, deprecating look of a dog when it faintly but rapidly wags its tail in penitence. “Mon Dieu! mon Dieu!” murmured the princess, and holding her gown with one hand, she went to her husband and kissed him on the forehead. “Good-night, Liza,” said Prince Andrey, getting up and kissing her hand courteously, as though she were a stranger. The friends were silent. Neither of them began to talk. Pierre looked at Prince Andrey; Prince Andrey rubbed his forehead with his small hand. “Let us go and have supper,” he said with a sigh, getting up and going to the door. They went into the elegantly, newly and richly furnished dining-room. Everything from the dinner-napkins to the silver, the china and the glass, wore that peculiar stamp of newness that is seen in the household belongings of newly married couples. In the middle of supper Prince Andrey leaned on his elbow, and like a man who has long had something on his mind, and suddenly resolves on giving it utterance, he began to speak with an expression of nervous irritation which Pierre had never seen in his friend before. “Never, never marry, my dear fellow; that's my advice to you; don't marry till you have faced the fact that you have done all you're capable of doing, and till you cease to love the woman you have chosen, till you see her plainly, or else you will make a cruel mistake that can never be set right. Marry when you're old and good for nothing…Or else everything good and lofty in you will be done for. It will all be frittered away over trifles. Yes, yes, yes! Don't look at me with such surprise. If you expect anything of yourself in the future you will feel at every step that for you all is over, all is closed up except the drawing-room, where you will stand on the same level with the court lackey and the idiot…And why!”…He made a vigorous gesture. Pierre took off his spectacles, which transformed his face, making it look even more good-natured, and looked wonderingly at his friend. “My wife,” pursued Prince Andrey, “is an excellent woman. She is one of those rare women with whom one can feel quite secure of one's honour; but, my God! what wouldn't I give now not to be married! You are the first and the only person I say this to, because I like you.” As Prince Andrey said this he was less than ever like the Bolkonsky who had sat lolling in Anna Pavlovna's drawing-room with half-closed eyelids, filtering French phrases through his teeth. His dry face was quivering with nervous excitement in every muscle; his eyes, which had seemed lustreless and lifeless, now gleamed with a full, vivid light. It seemed that the more lifeless he was at ordinary times, the more energetic he became at such moments of morbid irritability. |
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第六章 女人穿的连衣裙在隔壁房里发出沙沙的响声。安德烈公爵仿佛已清醒过来，把身子抖动一下，他的脸上正好流露出他在安娜·帕夫洛夫娜客厅里常有的那副表情。皮埃尔把他的两腿从沙发上放下去。公爵夫人走了进来。她穿着另一件家常穿的，但同样美观、未曾穿过的连衣裙。安德烈公爵站了起来，恭恭敬敬地把一张安乐椅移到她近旁。 “我为什么常常思考，”她像平常那样说了一句德国话，就连忙坐在安乐椅上，“安内特为什么还不嫁人呢？先生们，你们都十分愚蠢，竟然不娶她为妻了。请你们原宥我吧，但是，女人有什么用场，你们却丝毫不明了哩。皮埃尔先生，您是个多么爱争论的人啊！” “我总会和您的丈夫争论；我不明白，他为什么要去作战。”皮埃尔向公爵夫人转过身来毫无拘束地（年轻男人对年轻女人交往中常有的这种拘束）说道。 公爵夫人颤抖了一下。显然，皮埃尔的话触及了她的痛处。 “咳，我说的也是同样的话啊！”她说道，“我不明了，根本不明了，为什么男人不作战就不能活下去呢？为什么我们女人什么也下想要，什么也不需要呢？呵，您就做个裁判吧。我总把一切情形说给他听：他在这里是他叔父的副官，一个顶好的职位。大家都很熟悉他，都很赏识他。近日来我在阿普拉克辛家里曾听到，有个太太问过一句话：他就是闻名的安德烈公爵吗？说真话！”她笑了起来，“他到处都受到欢迎。他可以轻而易举地当上侍从武官。您知道，国王很慈善地和他谈过话。我和安内特说过，撮合这门亲事不会有困难。您认为怎样？” 皮埃尔望了望安德烈公爵，发现他的朋友不喜欢这次谈话，便一言不答。 “您什么时候走呢？”他发问。 “哦！请您不要对我说走的事，您不要说吧！这件事我不愿意听，”公爵夫人用在客厅里和伊波利特谈话时的那种猥亵而任性的音调说道，看来，这音调用在皮埃尔仿佛是成员的家庭中很不适合，“今天当我想到要中断这一切宝贵的关系……然后呢？安德烈，你知道吗？”她意味深长地眨眨眼睛向丈夫示意，“我觉得可怕，觉得可怕啊！”她的脊背打颤，轻言细语地说。 丈夫望着她，流露出那种神态，仿佛他惊恐万状，因为他发觉，除开他和皮埃尔而外，屋中还有一个人，但是他依然现出冷淡和谦逊的表情，用疑问的音调对妻子说： “丽莎，你害怕什么？我无法理解。”他说道。 “算什么男人，男人都是利己主义者，都是，都是利己主义者啊！他自己因为要求苛刻，过分挑剔，天晓得为什么，把我抛弃了，把我一个人关在乡下。” “跟我父亲和妹妹在一起，别忘记。”安德烈公爵低声说道。 “我身边没有我的朋友们了，横直是孑然一人……他还想要我不怕哩。” 她的声调已经含有埋怨的意味，小嘴唇翘了起来，使脸庞赋有不高兴的、松鼠似的兽性的表情。她默不作声了，似乎她认为在皮埃尔面前说到她怀孕是件不体面的事，而这正是问题的实质所在。 “我还是不明白，你害怕什么。”安德烈公爵目不转睛地看着妻子，慢条斯理地说道。 公爵夫人涨红了脸，失望地挥动双手。 “不，安德烈，你变得真厉害，变得真厉害……” “你的医生吩咐你早点就寝，”安德烈公爵说道，“你去睡觉好了。” 公爵夫人不发一言，突然她那长满茸毛的小嘴唇颤栗起来；安德烈公爵站起来，耸耸肩，从房里走过去了。 皮埃尔惊奇而稚气地借助眼镜时而望望他，时而望望公爵夫人，他身子动了一下，好像他也想站起来，但又改变了念头。 “皮埃尔先生在这儿，与我根本不相干，”矮小的公爵夫人忽然说了一句话，她那秀丽的脸上忽然现出发哭的丑相，“安德烈，我老早就想对你说：你为什么对我改变了态度呢？我对你怎么啦？你要到军队里去，你不怜悯我，为什么？” “丽莎！”安德烈公爵只说了一句话，但这句话既含有乞求，又含有威胁，主要是有坚定的信心，深信她自己会懊悔自己说的话，但是她忙着把话继续说下去： “你对待我就像对待病人或者对待儿童那样。我看得一清二楚啊。难道半年前你是这个模样吗？” “丽莎，我请您住口。”安德烈公爵愈益富于表情地说道。 在谈话的时候，皮埃尔越来越激动不安，他站了起来，走到公爵夫人面前。看来他不能经受住流泪的影响，自己也准备哭出声来。 “公爵夫人，请放心。这似乎是您的想象，因为我要您相信，我自己体会到……为什么……因为……不，请您原谅，外人在这儿真是多余的了……不，请您放心……再见……” 安德烈公爵抓住他的一只手，要他止步。 “皮埃尔，不，等一下。公爵夫人十分善良，她不想我失去和你消度一宵的快乐。” “不，他心中只是想到自己的事。”公爵夫人说道，忍不住流出气忿的眼泪。 “丽莎，”安德烈公爵冷漠地说道，抬高了声调，这足以表明，他的耐性到了尽头。 公爵夫人那副魅人的、令人怜悯的、畏惧的表情替代了她那漂亮脸盘上像松鼠似的忿忿不平的表情；她蹙起额角，用一双秀丽的眼睛望了望丈夫，俨像一只疾速而乏力地摇摆着下垂的尾巴的狗，脸上现出了胆怯的、表露心曲的神态。 “Mondieu，mondieu！”①公爵夫人说道，用一只手撩起连衣裙褶，向丈夫面前走去，吻了吻他的额头。 “Bonsoir，Lise．”②安德烈公爵说道，他站了起来，像在外人近旁那样恭恭敬敬地吻着她的手。 ①法语：我的天哪，我的天哪！ ②法语：丽莎，再会。 朋友们沉默不言。他们二人谁也不开腔。皮埃尔不时地看看安德烈公爵，安德烈公爵用一只小手揩揩自己的额头。 “我们去吃晚饭吧。”他叹一口气说道，站立起来向门口走去。 他们走进一间重新装修得豪华而优雅的餐厅。餐厅里的样样东西，从餐巾到银质器皿、洋瓷和水晶玻璃器皿，都具有年轻夫妇家的日常用品的异常新颖的特征。晚餐半中间，安德烈公爵用臂肘支撑着身子，开始说话了，他像个心怀积愫、忽然决意全盘吐露的人那样，脸上带有神经兴奋的表情，皮埃尔从未见过他的朋友流露过这种神态。 “我的朋友，永远，永远都不要结婚；这就是我对你的忠告，在你没有说你已做完你力所能及的一切以前，在你没有弃而不爱你所挑选的女人以前，在你还没有把她看清楚以前，你就不要结婚吧！否则，你就会铸成大错，弄到不可挽救的地步。当你是个毫不中用的老头的时候再结婚吧……否则，你身上所固有的一切美好而崇高的品质都将会丧失。一切都将在琐碎事情上消耗殆尽。是的，是的，是的！甭这样惊奇地望着我。如果你对自己的前程有所期望，你就会处处感觉到，你的一切都已完结，都已闭塞，只有那客厅除外，在那里你要和宫廷仆役和白痴平起平坐，被视为一流……岂不就是这么回事啊！……” 他用劲地挥挥手。 皮埃尔把眼镜摘下来，他的面部变了样子，显得愈加和善了，他很惊讶地望着自己的朋友。 “我的妻子，”安德烈公爵继续说下去，“是个挺好的女人。她是可以放心相处并共同追求荣誉的难能可贵的女人之一，可是，我的老天哪，只要我能不娶亲，我如今不论什么都愿意贡献出来啊！我是头一回向你一个人说出这番话的，因为我爱护你啊。” 安德烈公爵说这话时与原先不同，更不像博尔孔斯基了，那时，博尔孔斯基把手脚伸开懒洋洋地坐在安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的安乐椅上，把眼睛眯缝起来，透过齿缝说了几句法国话。他那冷淡的脸部由于神经兴奋的缘故每块肌肉都在颤栗着，一对眼睛里射出的生命之火在先前似乎熄灭了，现在却闪闪发亮。看来，他平常显得愈加暮气沉沉，而在兴奋时就会显得愈加生气勃勃。 |
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“You can't understand why I say this,” he went on. “Why, the whole story of life lies in it. You talk of Bonaparte and his career,” he said, though Pierre had not talked of Bonaparte; “you talk of Bonaparte, but Bonaparte when he was working his way up, going step by step straight to his aim, he was free; he had nothing except his aim and he attained it. But tie yourself up with a woman, and, like a chained convict, you lose all freedom. And all the hope and strength there is in you is only a drag on you, torturing you with regret. Drawing-rooms, gossip, balls, vanity, frivolity—that's the enchanted circle I can't get out of. I am setting off now to the war, the greatest war there has ever been, and I know nothing, and am good for nothing. I am very agreeable and sarcastic,” pursued Prince Andrey, “and at Anna Pavlovna's every one listens to me. And this imbecile society without which my wife can't exist, and these women…If you only knew what these society women are, and, indeed, women generally! My father's right. Egoism, vanity, silliness, triviality in everything—that's what women are when they show themselves as they really are. Looking at them in society, one fancies there's something in them, but there's nothing, nothing, nothing. No, don't marry, my dear fellow, don't marry!” Prince Andrey concluded. “It seems absurd to me,” said Pierre, “that you, you consider yourself a failure, your life wrecked. You have everything, everything before you. And you…” He did not say why you, but his tone showed how highly he thought of his friend, and how much he expected of him in the future. “How can he say that?” Pierre thought. Pierre regarded Prince Andrey as a model of all perfection, because Prince Andrey possessed in the highest degree just that combination of qualities in which Pierre was deficient, and which might be most nearly expressed by the idea of strength of will. Pierre always marvelled at Prince Andrey's faculty for dealing with people of every sort with perfect composure, his exceptional memory, his wide knowledge (he had read everything, knew everything, had some notion of everything), and most of all at his capacity for working and learning. If Pierre were frequently struck in Andrey by his lack of capacity for dreaming and philosophising (to which Pierre was himself greatly given), he did not regard this as a defect but as a strong point. Even in the very warmest, friendliest, and simplest relations, flattery or praise is needed just as grease is needed to keep wheels going round. “I am a man whose day is done,” said Prince Andrey. “Why talk of me? let's talk about you,” he said after a brief pause, smiling at his own reassuring thoughts. The smile was instantly reflected on Pierre's face. “Why, what is there to say about me?” said Pierre, letting his face relax into an easy-going, happy smile. “What am I? I am a bastard.” And he suddenly flushed crimson. Apparently it was a great effort to him to say this. “With no name, no fortune.…And after all, really…” He did not finish. “Meanwhile I am free though and I'm content. I don't know in the least what to set about doing. I meant to ask your advice in earnest.” Prince Andrey looked at him with kindly eyes. But in his eyes, friendly and kind as they were, there was yet a consciousness of his own superiority. “You are dear to me just because you are the one live person in all our society. You're lucky. Choose what you will, that's all the same. You'll always be all right, but there's one thing: give up going about with the Kuragins and leading this sort of life. It's not the right thing for you at all; all this riotous living and dissipation and all…” “What would you have, my dear fellow?” said Pierre, shrugging his shoulders; “women, my dear fellow, women.” “I can't understand it,” answered Andrey. “Ladies, that's another matter, but Kuragin's women, women and wine, I can't understand!” Pierre was living at Prince Vassily Kuragin's, and sharing in the dissipated mode of life of his son Anatole, the son whom they were proposing to marry to Prince Andrey's sister to reform him. “Do you know what,” said Pierre, as though a happy thought had suddenly occurred to him; “seriously, I have been thinking so for a long while. Leading this sort of life I can't decide on anything, or consider anything properly. My head aches and my money's all gone. He invited me to-night, but I won't go.” “Give me your word of honour that you will give up going.” “On my honour!” It was past one o'clock when Pierre left his friend's house. It was a cloudless night, a typical Petersburg summer night. Pierre got into a hired coach, intending to drive home. But the nearer he got, the more he felt it impossible to go to bed on such a night, more like evening or morning. It was light enough to see a long way in the empty streets. On the way Pierre remembered that all the usual gambling set were to meet at Anatole Kuragin's that evening, after which there usually followed a drinking-bout, winding up with one of Pierre's favorite entertainments. “It would be jolly to go to Kuragin's,” he thought. But he immediately recalled his promise to Prince Andrey not to go there again. But, as so often happens with people of weak character, as it is called, he was at once overcome with such a passionate desire to enjoy once more this sort of dissipation which had become so familiar to him, that he determined to go. And the idea at once occurred to him that his promise was of no consequence, since he had already promised Prince Anatole to go before making the promise to Andrey. Finally he reflected that all such promises were merely relative matters, having no sort of precise significance, especially if one considered that to-morrow one might be dead or something so extraordinary might happen that the distinction between honourable and dishonourable would have ceased to exist. Such reflections often occurred to Pierre, completely nullifying all his resolutions and intentions. He went to Kuragin's. Driving up to the steps of a big house in the Horse Guards' barracks, where Anatole lived, he ran up the lighted steps and the staircase and went in at an open door. There was no one in the ante-room; empty bottles, cloaks, and over-shoes were lying about in disorder: there was a strong smell of spirits; in the distance he heard talking and shouting. The card-playing and the supper were over, but the party had not broken up. Pierre flung off his cloak, and went into the first room, where there were the remnants of supper, and a footman who, thinking himself unobserved, was emptying the half-full glasses on the sly. In the third room there was a great uproar of laughter, familiar voices shouting, and a bear growling. Eight young men were crowding eagerly about the open window. Three others were busy with a young bear, one of them dragging at its chain and frightening the others with it. “I bet a hundred on Stevens!” cried one. “Mind there's no holding him up!” shouted another. “I'm for Dolohov!” shouted a third. “Hold the stakes, Kuragin.” “I say, let Mishka be, we're betting.” “All at a go or the wager's lost!” cried a fourth. “Yakov, give us a bottle, Yakov!” shouted Anatole himself, a tall, handsome fellow, standing in the middle of the room, in nothing but a thin shirt, open over his chest. “Stop, gentlemen. Here he is, here's Petrusha, the dear fellow.” He turned to Pierre. A man of medium height with bright blue eyes, especially remarkable from looking sober in the midst of the drunken uproar, shouted from the window: “Come here. I'll explain the bets!” This was Dolohov, an officer of the Semenov regiment, a notorious gambler and duellist, who was living with Anatole. Pierre smiled, looking good-humouredly about him. “I don't understand. What's the point?” “Wait a minute, he's not drunk. A bottle here,” said Anatole; and taking a glass from the table he went up to Pierre. “First of all, you must drink.” Pierre began drinking off glass after glass, looking from under his brows at the drunken group, who had crowded about the window again, and listening to their talk. Anatole kept his glass filled and told him that Dolohov had made a bet with an Englishman, Stevens, a sailor who was staying here, that he, Dolohov, would drink a bottle of rum sitting in the third story window with his legs hanging down outside. “Come, empty the bottle,” said Anatole, giving Pierre the last glass, “or I won't let you go!” “No, I don't want to,” said Pierre, shoving Anatole away; and he went up to the window. Dolohov was holding the Englishman's hand and explaining distinctly the terms of the bet, addressing himself principally to Anatole and Pierre. |
