第八章

英文

安德烈公爵和皮埃尔在莫斯科见面之后，他告诉他家里人，说他因事前往彼得堡，其实他希望在那里遇见阿纳托利·库拉金公爵，他认为有必要见他一面。抵达彼得堡后，他打听到库拉金不在那个地方。皮埃尔事前告知他的内兄，说安德烈公爵正在找他。阿纳托利随即从陆军大臣处获得委任，遂启程前往摩尔达维亚部队。此时安德烈公爵在彼得堡遇见那位对他素有好感的领导库图佐夫将军，库图佐夫将军建议安德烈公爵和他一同前往摩尔达维亚部队。老将军已被任命为当地的总司令。安德烈公爵接获在总司令部服务的委任书之后便启程前往土耳其。

安德烈公爵认为写信给库拉金要求决斗一事是不适宜的。在尚无要求决斗的新理由的情形下，安德烈公爵认为由他首先挑起决斗，会使罗斯托娃伯爵小姐的名誉受到损害，因此他就去寻找与库拉金会面的机会，以便为一次决斗寻找新借口。然而在土耳其军队中他亦未能遇见库拉金，库拉金在安德烈公爵抵达后不久就回俄国去了。安德烈公爵在一个新国度和新环境中觉得比较轻松。自从未婚妻背弃他之后（他愈益掩盖此时对他的影响，此事对他的影响就愈益强烈），以前他深感幸福的生活条件，而今却使他痛苦不堪，昔日他所极为珍惜的自由与独立，如今却使他觉得更痛心。他不仅不再去想先前那些心事——就是在奥斯特利茨战场上抬头观望天空时心里初次产生的思绪，他喜欢对皮埃尔谈论的、在博古恰罗沃和后来有瑞士与罗马使他那孤独生活获得充实的各种思绪；而今甚至害怕回顾那些向他揭示无限光明前途的思绪。他如今只是关心与过去无关的目前的实际问题，他愈益醉心于目前的问题，过去就离他愈益遥远。过去高悬在他头上的那个无限遥远的天空，好像忽然间变成低矮的有限的压着他的拱形顶盖，而那里面的一切都很明了，并无任何永恒和神秘之物可言。

在他所能想到的各项工作中，他觉得在军队里供职至为简单也至为熟悉。他在库图佐夫司令部里执勤时，他对自己工作的执着和勤恳，使库图佐夫感到吃惊。安德烈公爵在土耳其未能找到库拉金，他认为并无必要又回到俄国去跟踪他；但是他知道，无论他度过多么长久的时间，只要他碰见库拉金，就非向他挑战不可，就像一个很饥饿的人必然会向食物扑将过去一样，尽管他极端藐视他，尽管他给自己寻找出千百条理由，条条理由都使他觉得他不必降低身份同他发生冲突。然而一想到他犹未雪奇耻大辱，他犹未消心头之恨，他那人为的平安——也就是他多少由于个人野心和虚荣而在土耳其给他自己安排的劳碌的活动，就受到妨碍。

一八一二年，俄国同拿破仑开战的消息传到布加勒斯特后（库图佐夫于此地已经居住两个月，他昼夜和那个瓦拉几亚女人鬼混），安德烈公爵恳请库图佐夫将他调至西线方面军去，博尔孔斯基以其勤奋精神来责备他的懒惰，库图佐夫对此早已感到厌烦了，很愿意把他调走，他就让他前去巴克雷·德·托利处执行任务。

安德烈公爵在未抵达驻扎在德里萨军官的军队之前，顺路去童山，童山离他所走的斯摩棱斯克大路只有三俄里之遥。最近三年来，安德烈公爵的生活起了很大的变化，他所考虑的事情很多，有很多感受，也有很多见识（他已走遍西方和东方），但是当他来到童山时，这里的一切，就连最细小的地方，都依然像从前一样，生活方式也像从前一样，这不禁使他感到奇怪和出乎意料之外。当他驶进林荫道，经过童山宅第的石门时，犹如进入一座因着魔而陷入沉睡状态的古旧城堡似的。这所住宅还是那样雄伟，那样清洁，那样肃静，仍然是那样的家具，那样的墙壁，那样的音响，那样的气味以及那样几张只不过略微现老的畏葸的面孔。公爵小姐玛丽亚还是那样谨小而慎微、容貌不美丽的上了岁数的女郎，她永远是在惊恐和痛苦中，在毫无裨益的闷闷不乐的心境中度过最佳的年华。布里安小姐还是个尽情享受她的生命的每一瞬息的喜形于色的洋洋自得的卖弄风骚的女郎。安德烈公爵心里觉得，她只是变得更富于自信罢了。安德烈公爵从瑞士带回本国的那个教师德萨尔，虽然总是身穿一套俄国式的常礼服，操着一口蹩脚的俄语和仆人谈话，但是他仍旧是个不太聪明的、有学问也有德行的书呆子。老公爵在身体方面唯一的变化就是在一边嘴里缺少一颗牙齿；他的脾气依然如故，只不过他对外界发生的事情很容易激怒，疑心更重罢了。尼古卢什卡只是长高了，相貌子变了，两颊是绯红的，蓄着一头乌黑的鬈发，当他高兴和哈哈大笑的时候，他那漂亮的小嘴上唇无意识地翘起来，和那个已经辞世的小公爵夫人一模一样。不过他不愿意服从这座因着魔而陷入沉睡状态的古旧城堡里的一成不变的法则。表面上的一切虽然像过去一样，但是自从安德烈公爵离开此地后，这些人的内部关系发生了变化。家庭成员分成了两个视若路人的互相敌对的营垒，现在只是看在他的面上，才把平常的生活方式改变过来，大家当着他的面团聚在一起了。老公爵、布里安小姐、建筑师属于一个营垒，公爵小姐玛丽亚、德萨尔、尼左卢什卡、所有的保姆和乳母属于另一个营垒。

他在童山的时候，家里的人都在一起聚餐，但是所有的人都困窘不安，安德烈公爵觉得他是个来宾，大家为了他，才有这样的例外，当着他的面，大家都很不自在。头一天聚餐的当儿，安德烈公爵就不由地产生了这种感觉，他不开腔了，老公爵一眼便看出他的面色显得不自然，也板着面孔一声不响，吃罢午饭后就回到自己房里去了。夜晚，安德烈公爵去看他，竭力地使他打起精神来，给他讲到小伯爵卡缅斯基远征的事儿，可是老公爵突然向他谈起公爵小姐玛丽亚，指责她的迷信观念、诉说玛丽亚不爱布里安小姐，还说，唯独有布里安小姐才是个真正效忠于他的人。

老公爵说，如果他害病了，应当归咎于公爵小姐玛丽亚，她故意使他受折磨，小公爵尼古拉学坏了，那是因为她溺爱他，还说了许多蠢话。老公爵十分清楚，是他使女儿遭受痛苦，她的生活很为难，可是他也晓得他不能不折磨她，她活该受苦。“安德烈公爵为什么看到了这一点，而只字不提他的妹妹呢？”老公爵想道，“他是否以为我是个坏人或者是老糊涂了，毫无缘由地使我自己和女儿疏远起来，却与一个法国女人接近呢？他不明了，应当向他说明，要让他倾听我说的话。”老公爵想道。他开始说明他为什么对自己女儿的愚蠢性格不能容忍了。

“假如您问我，”安德烈公爵两眼不望他父亲，说道（这是他有生以来第一次责备父亲）“我原来不想这样说，可是如果您真要问我，那么我就坦白地将我对这一切的意见讲给您听，因为我知道玛莎是非常敬爱您的，若是说您和她之间有什么误会和不和睦的话，那么我千万不能责怪她。假如您问我，”安德烈公爵急躁地说，近来他容易暴躁，“只有一点我能对您说，假使会发生误会的话，那么，它的根源就在那个卑微的女人身上，她不配当我妹妹的女伴。”

老头子开头定睛望着他儿子，不自然地咧着嘴微笑，露出安德烈公爵至今尚未看惯的牙齿中间的新豁口。

“亲爱的，什么女伴？嗯？你们都已经谈过啦！嗯？”

“爸爸，我不愿当什么审判官，”安德烈公爵带有恼怒而且生硬的声调说，“但是，是您首先向我挑衅的，我说过，不要再说一遍，公爵小姐玛丽亚没有罪过，而有罪过的正是那些……是那个法国婆子的罪过……”

“喏，你来宣判，判我的罪啦！”老年人低声地说，安德烈公爵觉得他的语声有点窘，但是，紧接着老年人忽然跳起来，大声喊道：“给我滚开，给我滚开！不要让我看见你的影子啊！……”

安德烈公爵心里想立即离开这个家，但是玛丽亚公爵小姐劝他再待上一天，安德烈公爵这一天未和他父亲见面，老年人没有出门，除了布里安小姐和吉洪，不让任何人走进房里去，不止一次地询问，他儿子走了没有。翌日临行前，安德烈公爵走进儿子的房间。那个健康的像妈妈一样长着鬈发的男孩坐在他的膝头上。安德烈公爵给他儿子讲蓝胡子的故事，可是没有把故事讲完，他沉吟起来。他不是在想这个抱在他膝盖上的漂亮的小儿子，他在想自己。他怀着恐惧在内心深处寻找而未能找到那因触怒他父亲而懊悔的心情，他亦未能找到因和他有生以来第一遭口角的父亲离别而遗憾的心情。最重要的是，他对他儿子表示爱抚，把他抱在膝盖上，他希望从他内心引起对他的温柔的感情，但是他觉得，他无论怎样也找不到过去他对自己儿子的温柔的感情。

“讲吧。”儿子说。安德烈公爵没有回答他的话，他把他从膝盖上抱下来，走出了房门。

安德烈公爵只要一把日常工作抛开，特别是回到他幸福地生活过的那个昔日的环境，忧愁的心绪像从前那样强烈地向他袭击，他就赶快回避往事的回忆，找点事儿来做。

“安德烈，你一定要走吗？”妹妹对他说。

“我可以离开，感谢那上天。”安德烈公爵说，“你走不了，我很惋惜哩。”

“你为什么这样说呀！”玛丽亚公爵小姐说，“现在你去打一场可怕的战争，他这么老迈，你怎么会说出这样的话啊！布里安小姐说，他老是问你呢……”她刚一打开话匣子，她的嘴唇就颤抖起来了，眼泪汪汪地直流。安德烈公爵把脸转过来，开始在房里踱来踱去。

“啊，我的天呀！我的天呀！”他说道，“你会料想不到，不管一件什么东西，一个什么人是多么微不足道，都有可能使人遭到不幸！”他说道，他那恼怒的口吻使公爵小姐玛丽亚感到惊讶。

她明了，他言下的微不足道的人，指的不仅是使他遭遇不幸的布里安小姐，而且是指那个破坏他的幸福的家伙。

“安德烈，我央求你，我只有一件事求你，”她说，碰了一下他的臂肘，用噙满眼泪的闪闪发亮的眼睛望着他。“我了解你（公爵小姐玛丽亚垂下眼帘）。不要以为不幸是人所造成的。人是上帝的工具。”她朝安德烈公爵头顶上方稍高的地方看了一眼，她那目光流露着在看圣像时所习惯的虔信的神情。

“不幸乃为上帝所赐予，实非人所造成。人是上帝的工具。他们都是无罪的人。如果你觉得有谁开罪于你，那么你就忘掉吧，原宥吧。我们没有惩罚的权利，你是会懂得宽恕的幸福的。”

“玛丽亚，如果我是女人，我准会那样做的，那是女人的品格，但是男人就不要忘记和宽恕。”他说，尽管此时他没有想到库拉金，可是在他心中的尚未发泄的怒火突然燃烧起来了。“假如公爵小姐玛丽亚已经劝我宽恕，那就意味着，我早就应该惩罚了。”他想道。他再也不去回答公爵小姐玛丽亚，这时他开始想到他在碰见库拉金时（他晓得库拉金此刻在军队里）那个令人痛快的、复仇的时刻。

公爵小姐玛丽亚恳求她哥哥多呆一天，她说，假如安德烈未能同父亲和好就离开，那末他父亲真会感到难受的，可是安德烈公爵回答说，也许他不久就会从军队回来，他一定给他父亲写信，目前他在家中住得愈久，关系也就会愈恶劣。

“Adieu，Andre！Rappelez－vous　que　les　malheurs　viennent　de　Dieu，et　que　les　hommes　ne　sont　janais　coupables．”①这就是他向妹妹道别时听见他妹妹说的最后几句话。

①法语：安德烈，再见！要记着，不幸是来自上帝，人们是永远没有罪过的。

“是的，事情也只有如此！”安德烈公爵乘车驶出童山宅第的林荫道时这样想道。“她这个可怜的无罪的女人，只有忍受昏聩的老年人的折磨吧。老年人知道自己做得不对，但是改不了。我的男孩正在成长，享受人生的欢乐，他也像每个人一样，将来在生活中或者受人欺骗，或者欺骗别人。为什么我要到军队里去呢？——我自己也不晓得，我指望碰见那个我所鄙视的小人，赐予他一个打死我嘲笑我的有利条件！”生活环境依然如故，但过去它是平和而舒适的，目前这一切全都破碎了。一些不连贯的、毫无意义的现象在安德烈公爵的头脑中接一连二地浮现出来。

CHAPTER IX

Chinese

PRINCE ANDREY reached the headquarters of the army at the end of June. The first army, with which the Tsar was, was stationed in a fortified camp at Drissa. The second army was retreating, striving to effect a junction with the first army, from which—so it was said—it had been cut off by immense forces of the French. Every one was dissatisfied with the general course of events in the Russian army. But no one even dreamed of any danger of the Russian provinces being invaded, no one imagined the war could extend beyond the frontiers of the western Polish provinces.

Prince Andrey found Barclay de Tolly, to whom he was sent, on the bank of the Drissa. Since there was not one large village nor dwelling-place in the neighbourhood of the camp, the immense multitude of generals and courtiers accompanying the army were distributed about the neighborhood for ten versts round in the best houses of the village on both sides of the river. Barclay de Tolly was staying four versts away from the Tsar. He gave Bolkonsky a dry and frigid reception, and said in his German accent that he would mention him to the Tsar so that a definite appointment might be given him, and that meanwhile he begged him to remain on his staff. Anatole Kuragin, whom Prince Andrey had expected to find in the army, was not here. He was in Petersburg, and Bolkonsky was glad to hear it. He was absorbed in the interest of being at the centre of the immense war that was in progress, and he was relieved to be free for a time from the irritability produced in him by the idea of Kuragin. The first four days, during which he was not called upon to do anything, he spent in riding round the whole of the fortified camp, and by the aid of his experiences and his conversations with persons of greater experience, he tried to form a definite idea about it. But the question whether such a camp were of use at all or not remained an open one in his mind. He had already, from his own military experience, formed the conviction that in war the most deeply meditated plans are of no avail (as he had seen at Austerlitz), that everything depends on how unexpected actions of the enemy, actions that cannot possibly be foreseen, are met; that all depends on how, and by whom, the battle is led. In order to settle this last question to his own satisfaction, Prince Andrey took advantage of his position and his acquaintances to try to get an insight into the character of the persons and parties who had a hand in the organisation of the army. This was the general idea he gained of the position of affairs.

While the Tsar had been at Vilna, the army had been divided into three. The first army was under the command of Barclay de Tolly, the second under the command of Bagration, and the third under the command of Tormasov. The Tsar was with the first army, but not in the capacity of commander-in-chief. In the proclamations, it was announced that the Tsar would be with the army, but it was not announced that he would take the command. Moreover, there was in attendance on the Tsar personally not a commander-in-chief's staff, but the staff of the imperial headquarters. The chief officer of the imperial staff was General-Quartermaster Volkonsky, and it contained generals, aides-de-camp, diplomatic officials, and an immense number of foreigners, but it was not a military staff. The Tsar had also in attendance on him in no definite capacity, Araktcheev, the late minister of war; Count Bennigsen, by seniority the first of the generals; the Tsarevitch, Konstantin Pavlovitch; Count Rumyantsev, the chancellor; Stein, the former Prussian minister; Armfeldt, the Swedish general; Pfuhl, the chief organiser of the plan of the campaign; Paulucci, a Sardinian refugee, who had been made a general-adjutant; Woltzogen; and many others. Though those personages had no definite posts in the army, yet, from their position, they had influence, and often the commander of a corps, or even one of the commanders-in-chief, did not know in what capacity Bennigsen or the Tsarevitch or Araktcheev or Prince Volkonsky addressed some advice or inquiry to him, and could not tell whether some command in the form of advice came directly from the person who got it or through him from the Tsar, and whether he ought or ought not to obey it. But all this formed simply the external aspect of the situation; the inner import of the presence of the Tsar and all these great personages was, from a courtier's point of view (and in the presence of a monarch all men become courtiers), plain to all. All grasped the fact that though the Tsar was not formally assuming the position of commander-in-chief, he did, in fact, hold the supreme control of all the armies in his hands, and the persons about him were his councillors. Araktcheev was a trusty administrator, a stern upholder of discipline, and careful of the safety of the Tsar. Bennigsen was a land-holder in the neighbourhood, and seemed to feel it his function to entertain the Tsar there; while he was in reality, too, a good general, useful as an adviser, and useful to have in readiness to replace Barclay at any time. The Tsarevitch was there because he thought fit to be. The former Prussian minister, Stein, was there because his advice might be useful, and the Emperor Alexander had a high opinion of his personal qualities. Armfeldt was a bitter enemy of Napoleon, and had self-confidence, which never failed to have influence with Alexander. Paulucci was there because he was bold and decided in his utterances. The generals on the staff were there because they were always where the Emperor was; and the last and principal figure, Pfuhl, was there because he had created a plan of warfare against Napoleon, and having made Alexander believe in the consistency of this plan, was now conducting the plan of the whole campaign. Pfuhl was accompanied by Woltzogen, who put Pfuhl's ideas into a more easily comprehensible form than could be done by Pfuhl himself, who was a rigid theorist, with an implicit faith in his own views, and an absolute contempt for everything else.

The above-mentioned were the most prominent personages about the Tsar, and among them the foreigners were in the ascendant, and were every day making new and startling suggestions with the audacity characteristic of men who are acting in a sphere not their own. But, besides those, there were many more persons of secondary importance, who were with the army because their principals were there.

In this vast, brilliant, haughty, and uneasy world, among all these conflicting voices, Prince Andrey detected the following sharply opposed parties and differences of opinion.

The first party consisted of Pfuhl and his followers; military theorists, who believe in a science of war, having its invariable laws—laws of oblique movements, out-flanking, etc. Pfuhl and his adherents demanded that the army should retreat into the heart of the country in accordance with the exact principles laid down by their theory of war, and in every departure from this theory they saw nothing but barbarism, ignorance, or evil intention. To this party belonged Woltzogen, Wintzengerode, and others—principally Germans.

The second party was in direct opposition to the first. As is always the case where there is one extreme opinion, representatives had come forward of the opposite extreme. This party had urged an advance from Vilna into Poland regardless of all previous plans. This party, while advocating bold action, consisted of the representatives of nationalism, which made them even more one-sided in their views. They were Russians: Bagration, Yermolov, who was just beginning to make his mark, and some others. Yermolov's well-known joke was much quoted at the time—a supposed petition to the Tsar for promotion to be a “German.” The members of this party, recalling Suvorov, maintained that what was wanted was not reasoning and sticking pins into maps, but fighting, beating the enemy, preventing the enemy from getting into Russia, and keeping up the spirits of the army.

To the third party, in which the Tsar was disposed to place most confidence, belonged the courtiers, who tried to effect a compromise between the two contending sides. The members of this party—to which Araktcheev belonged—were mostly not military men, and they spoke and reasoned as men usually do who have no convictions, but wish to pass for having them. They admitted that a war with such a genius as Bonaparte (they called him Bonaparte again now) did undoubtedly call for the profoundest tactical considerations and thorough scientific knowledge, and that on that side Pfuhl was a genius. But, at the same time, they acknowledged that it could not be denied that theorists were often one-sided, and so one should not put implicit confidence in them, but should listen too to what Pfuhl's opponents urged, and also to the views of practical men who had experience, and should take a middle course. They advocated maintaining the camp at Drissa on Pfuhl's plan, but altering his disposition of the other two armies. Though by this course of action neither aim could be attained, this seemed to the party of compromise the best line to adopt.

Of the fourth section of opinions, the most prominent representative was the Grand Duke, and heir-apparent, who could not get over his rude awakening at Austerlitz. He had ridden out at the head of his guards in helmet and cuirass as though to a review, expecting gallantly to rout the French, and finding himself unexpectedly just in the line of the enemy's fire, had with difficulty escaped in the general disorder. The members of this party had at once the merit and the defect of sincerity in their convictions. They feared Napoleon; they saw his strength and their own weakness, and frankly admitted it. They said: “Nothing but a huge disgrace and ruin can come of the war! We have abandoned Vilna, and abandoned Vitebsk, and we are abandoning the Drissa too. The only sensible thing left for us to do is to conclude peace, and as soon as possible, before we have been driven out of Petersburg!”

This view was widely diffused in the higher military circles, and found adherents, too, in Petersburg—one of them being the chancellor Rumyantsev, who advocated peace on other political considerations.

A fifth section were the adherents of Barclay de Tolly, not so much from his qualities as a man, as a minister of war and commander-in-chief. “Whatever he may be,” they always began, “he is an honest, practical man, and there is nobody better. Let him have sole responsibility, since war can never be prosecuted successfully under divided authority and he will show what he can do, as he did in Finland. We owe it simply to Barclay that our army is strong and well organised, and has retreated to the Drissa without disaster. If Barclay is replaced by Bennigsen now, everything will be lost; for Bennigsen has proved his incapacity already in 1807.” Such was the line of argument of the fifth party.

The sixth party, the partisans of Bennigsen, maintained on the contrary that there was after all no one more capable and experienced than Bennigsen, and that whatever else were done they would have to come back to him. They maintained that the whole Russian retreat to Drissa had been an uninterrupted series of shameful disasters and blunders. “Let them blunder now if they will,” they said; “the more blunders the better, at least it will teach them all the sooner that we can't go on like this. And we want none of your Barclays, but a man like Bennigsen, who showed what he was in 1807, so that Napoleon himself had to do him justice, and a man, too, is needed to whom all would readily intrust authority, and Bennigsen is the only such man.”

The seventh class were persons such as are always found in courts, and especially in the courts of young sovereigns, and were particularly plentiful in the suite of Alexander—generals and adjutants, who were passionately devoted to the Tsar, not merely as an emperor, but sincerely and disinterestedly adored him as a man, as Rostov had adored him in 1805, and saw in him every virtue and good quality of humanity. These persons, while they were ecstatic over the modesty of the Tsar in declining the chief command of the army, deplored that excess of modesty, and desired and urged one thing only, that their adored Tsar, conquering his excessive diffidence, would openly proclaim that he put himself at the head of the army, would gather the staff of the commander-in-chief about him, and, consulting experienced theorists and practical men where necessary, would himself lead his forces, who would be excited to the highest pitch of enthusiasm by this step.

The eighth and largest group, numbering ninety-nine to every one of the others, consisted of people who were eager neither for peace nor for war, neither for offensive operations nor defensive camps, neither at Drissa nor anywhere else; who did not take the side of Barclay, nor of the Tsar, nor of Pfuhl, nor of Bennigsen, but cared only for the one thing most essential—their own greatest gain and enjoyment. In the troubled waters of those cross-currents of intrigue, eddying about the Tsar's headquarters, success could be attained in very many ways that would have been inconceivable at other times. One courtier, with the single-hearted motive of retaining a lucrative position, would agree today with Pfuhl, and to-morrow with his opponents, and the day after to-morrow would declare that he had no opinion on the subject in question, simply to avoid responsibility and to gratify the Tsar. Another, in the hope of bettering his position, would seek to attract the Tsar's attention by loudly clamouring a suggestion hinted at by the Tsar on the previous day, by quarrelling noisily at the council, striking himself on the chest and challenging opponents to a duel to prove his readiness to sacrifice himself for the common good. A third simply took advantage of the absence of enemies between two councils to beg a grant from the Single Assistance Fund for his faithful service, knowing there would be no time now for a refusal. A fourth took care to place himself where the Tsar might quite casually find him deeply engrossed in work. A fifth tried to reach the long-desired goal of his ambition—a dinner at the Tsar's table—by violently espousing one side or another and collecting more or less true and valid arguments in support of it.

All the members of this party were on the hunt after roubles, crosses, and promotions; and in that chase they simply followed the scent given them by the fluctuations of imperial favour. As soon as they saw the imperial weather-cock shifting to one quarter the whole swarm of these drones began buzzing away in the direction, making it more difficult for the Tsar to shift his course back again. In the uncertainty of the position, with the menace of serious danger, which gave a peculiarly intense character to everything, in this whirlpool of ambitions, of conflicting vanities, and views, and feelings, and different nationalities, this eighth and largest party, absorbed only in the pursuit of personal interests, greatly increased the complexity and confusion. Whatever question arose, the swarm of drones, still humming over the last subject, flew to the new one, and by their buzzing drowned and confused the voices of sincere disputants.

At the time when Prince Andrey reached the army yet another—a ninth party—was being formed out of all the rest, and was just making its voice heard. It consisted of sensible men of age and political experience, sharing none of the conflicting opinions, and able to take a general view of all that was being done at headquarters, and to consider means for escaping from the vagueness, uncertainty, confusion, and feebleness.

The members of this party thought and said that the whole evil was primarily due to the presence of the Tsar with his military court in the army; that it brought into the army that indefinite, conditional, and fluctuating uncertainty of relations which is in place in a court, but mischievous in an army; that it was for the Tsar to govern and not to lead his troops; that the only escape from the position was the departure of the Tsar and his court from the army; that the simple presence of the Tsar paralysed fifty thousand troops, which must be retained to secure his personal safety; that the worst commander-in-chief, acting independently, would be better than the best commander-in-chief with his hands tied by the presence and authority of the Tsar.

While Prince Andrey was staying, with nothing to do, at Drissa, Sishkov, the secretary of state, one of the leading representatives of this last group, wrote to the Tsar a letter to which Balashov and Araktcheev agreed to add their signatures. In this letter he took advantage of the Tsar's permitting him to offer his opinion on the general question, and respectfully suggested the sovereign's leaving the army, urging as a pretext for his doing so the absolute necessity of his presence to rouse public feeling in the capital.

To appeal to the people, and to rouse them in defence of their fatherland, was represented as urgently necessary to the Tsar, and was accepted by him as a sufficient reason for leaving. The outburst of patriotism that followed that appeal (so far indeed as it can be said to have been produced by the Tsar's visit to Moscow) was the principal cause of the subsequent triumph of Russia.

第九章

英文

安德烈公爵是六月底来到总司令部的。皇帝所在的第一军在德里萨设置了防御工事；第二军在撤退，力图与第一军会合，据说他们被法军的强大力量切断了。所有的人都对俄罗斯军队的军事情势不满；但谁也未想到有入侵俄国各省的危险，谁也没估计到战争会越过波兰西部各省。

安德烈公爵在德里萨河岸找到他受命去其麾下任职的巴克思·德·托利。因为营地周围没有一个大村庄，大批的将军和随军宫廷大臣都安置在河两岸方圆十俄里的村中最好的宅院里。巴克思·德·托利住在离皇帝四俄里的地方。他冷淡地接待了博尔孔斯基，他操着德国口音说他将奏明圣上再确定他的职务，只有暂时请他留在他的司令部。安德烈公爵希望在军队中寻找到的阿纳托利·库拉金没在这里；他在彼得堡，这消息使博尔孔斯基很愉快。目前，安德烈公爵忙于正发生的大规模战争的核心问题，而他也很高兴有一些时间不再为一直萦绕于他内心的库拉金问题所烦恼。在头四天，他没被要求做什么事，安德烈公爵巡视所有设防的营地，借助自己的知识与有关人员谈话，是可能对每个营地有明确的概念。但问题在于这个营地的防卫是有效的还是无效的，对安德烈公爵来说却是一个未被解决的问题，从自己的军事经验中，他已经得出一个信念，在军事事务中，最深思熟虑的完善周到的计划没有任何意义（正如他在奥斯特利茨战役中见到的），一切都取决于如何处理突发的、不能预见的敌方行动，取决于如何和由谁来指挥整个战役。为了弄清楚这后一个问题，安德烈公爵利用自己的地位和熟人极力深入了解军队的指挥特点，参予其中的指挥员和派系，于是得出关于军事情势的如下概念。

当皇帝还在维尔纳时，军队就被分成三部分：第一军由巴克雷·德·托利统率，第二军由巴格拉季翁统率，第三军由托尔马索夫率领。皇帝在第一军，但却不是作为总司令。据通令称，皇帝将不指挥军队，而只是跟随军队。此外，没有皇帝御前总参谋部，只有一个皇帝的行辕参谋部。设有皇帝行辕参谋长，这就是负责军需的将军博尔孔斯基公爵，几个将军、侍从武官、外交官员和一大批外国人，但是这不是军队司令部。此外，在皇帝面前不带职务的人员还有：阿拉克切耶夫——前陆军大臣，贝尼格森伯爵——按官阶是老将军（大将），皇太子梁斯坦J·帕夫诺维哥大公，鲁缅采夫伯爵——一等文官，施泰因——前普鲁士部长，阿伦菲尔德——瑞典将军、普弗尔——作战计划的主要起草人，侍从武官巴沃鲁契——撒丁亡命者，沃尔佐根以及许多其他人。虽然这些人没有军职，但是由于其所处的地位都有影响，通常一个军团长甚至总司令不知道贝尼格森或者大公，或者阿拉克切耶夫，或者博尔孔斯基是以什么身分过问或建议那件事或其他事务，也不知道这种过问或建议是出自他们本人还是出自皇帝，应当或者不应当执行。但这仅仅是表面现象，皇帝和这些人从宫廷的观点出面的实质意义（皇帝在场，所有其他人都是宫廷侍臣）是大家都明了的。那种意义就是：皇帝没有承担总司令的名义，但是他却号令全军；他周围的人都是他的助手。阿拉克切耶夫是忠实的执行人，秩序的维持者，是皇帝的侍卫；贝尼格森是维尔纳省的地主，他仿佛在尽地主之谊Les　honneurs（法语：接待皇帝），而实际上是一个优秀的将军，能够出谋划策，随时可替代巴克雷。大公在那里是因为这是他乐意的事，前部长施泰因是因为他能提出有益的建议，因为亚历山大皇帝高度评价他的个人品质。阿伦菲尔德复拿破仑的死敌，是一位将军，自信总能影响亚历山大。巴沃鲁契是因为他直言和果断。侍从武官在那里是因为他们出现在皇帝所在的所有地方，最后，最主要的——普弗尔在那里是因为他起草拟定了反对拿破仑的军事计划，并使亚历山大相信这个计划的可行性，他掌管一切军务。与普弗尔一道的是沃尔佐根，一个比普弗尔本人更能用明了易懂的方式表达普弗尔的思想，因为普弗尔是一个尖刻的，自信到目空一切，书本上的理论家。

除前述的俄罗斯人和外国人外（特别是外国人，他们都具有在陌生人中活动或工作的人们所特有的大胆，每天都提出惊人的新思想），还有许多次要人物，他们在那里是因为那里有他们的上司。

在这个庞大、忙碌、辉煌和骄傲的集团中，安德烈公爵发现所有的思想和议论可明显分为以下派系和倾向。

第一派是：普弗尔及其追随者，那些军事理论家，他们相信存在军事科学，认为这门科学有自身不可更改的法则，运动战法则，迂回运动法则等。普弗尔及其追随者要求撤退到国家的内地，按伪军事理论所规定的精确的法则，对这个理论的所有偏离却只能被人们视为野蛮，不学无术或别有用心。属于该派的有德国亲王们、沃尔佐根、温岑格罗德和其他人，多半都是德国人。

第二派与第一派相反。正如惯常的情形，有一种极端，也就有另一种极端。这派的人要求从维尔纳攻入波兰，并摆脱所有预先制订的计划。这一派的代表除了是大胆行动的代表外，他们同时还是民族主义的代表，因此在辩论变得更加偏激了。这些人是俄罗斯人：巴格拉季翁、声望高涨的叶尔莫洛夫和其他一些人。此时传播着叶尔莫洛夫的笑话，似乎是他请求皇帝的恩宠——封他为德国人。这一派缅怀苏沃洛夫的人说，不应当认为，不用针刺破地图，而应去战斗，打击敌人，不放敌人进入俄罗斯，不要挫拆士气。

第三派最受皇帝信任，他们是介于两派间的宫廷侍臣们。这派人大多是军人，阿拉克切耶夫属于该派，他们所想所说的都是没有信念，但又希望像有信念的普通人所想和所说的。他们说，毫无疑问，战争，特别是同波拿巴（又称他叫波拿巴）这样的天才的战争，要求最深思熟虑的谋划和渊博的科学知识，在这方面普弗尔是一个英才；但同样不能不承认，理论家往往有其片面性，所以不能完全相信他们，应该听听反对派普弗尔的意见，听听在军事上有实践经验的人们的意见，然后加以折中。这一派主张按照普弗尔的计划守住德里萨营地，改变其他各军的行动。虽然这种变化不能达到其它任何目的，但该派却认为这样会好些。

第四派以大公皇太子为最著名的代表，他不能忘记自己在奥斯特利茨战役所遭受的失败，当时他头戴钢盔，身穿骑兵制服，就像去阅兵似的骑马行进在近卫军的前面，实指望干净利落地击溃法军，结果却陷入第一线，好不容易才在惊慌中逃出来。这一派人在自己的讨论中具有坦率的优点和缺点。他们害怕拿破仑，看到了他的力量和自己的软弱并直截了当地说出了这一点。他们说：“除了悲哀、耻辱和毁灭之外，不会有任何结果！我们丢掉了维尔纳，放弃了维捷布斯克，还要失掉德里萨。聪明的做法是趁现在还暂未把我们赶出彼得堡，尽快缔结和约。”

这个观点在军方上层相当普遍，在彼得堡也获得支持，一等文官鲁缅采夫为其他政治原因也同样赞成和解。

第五派是巴克雷·德·托利的信徒们。他们与其认为他是人，不如说把他当作陆军大臣和总司令。他们说：“不管他是什么人，（总是这样开始），但他的正直，精明，没有谁比他更好。请把实权交给他吧，因为战争中不可能没有统一的指挥，他将展示他可以做些什么，就像他在芬兰表现的那样。如果我们的军队秩序井然，有战斗力，撤退到德里萨而未遭受任何损失，那么这只能归功于巴克雷。如果现在用贝尼格森代替巴克雷，那么一切全完了，因为贝尼格森在一八○七年就表现出自己的碌碌无能。”这一派的人们这样说。

第六派是贝尼格森派。正好相反，他们说，“不管怎样，没有比贝尼格森更能干的，更有经验的人了，无论你怎样折腾，最终还是请教他。这一派的人证明说，我们全体退到德里萨是最可悲的失败和不间断一连串错误的结果。他们说：“错误犯得越多，越能尽快地使人们明白，不可以这样下去，不需要什么巴克雷，而是需要像贝尼格森这样的人。他在一八○七年已经显过身手，拿破仑自己曾给他作过公充的评价，这更让人心悦诚服地承认是权威的人，只有贝尼格森一个人。”

第七派是那些随时都随侍皇帝左右的人，特别是那些年轻的皇帝，而亚历山大皇帝身边的这种人特别多，他们是将军、侍从武官，他们对皇帝无限忠诚，就像罗斯托夫在一八○五年崇拜他一样。不是把他当作皇帝，而当作一个人，衷心而无私地崇拜他，在他身上不仅看出全部美德，而且具备人类的一切优秀品质。这些人虽然赞美皇帝拒绝统帅军队的谦虚品质，却指责这种过分的谦虚，他们仅希望一件事，而且坚持自己崇拜的皇帝丢弃对自身的过分的不信任、公开宣布做军队的统帅，属下组建一个总司令大本营，自己指挥军队，必要时可请有经验的理论家和实干家辅佐，这样更极大地鼓舞军心激昂士气。

第八派是人数最多的一派，以自己的众多数量与其他派别相比正如九十九比一，他们由那些既不希望和平，又不希望战争，既不赞成进攻，也不喜欢在德里萨营地和其他任何地方设防士卫。不支持巴克雷皇帝，也不支持普弗尔、贝尼格森，他们只谋机一件事，一件非常重要的事，那就是为自己最大的利益和愉快而行动，在那潭浑水里盘根错节，扑朔离迷的阴谋诡计充斥皇帝的行辕，从中可捞到在别的时候意想不到的好处。有人只是怕失掉自己的即得利益。于是就今天同意普弗尔，明天又同意普弗尔的反对派，后天又宣布他对某个问题毫无意见，目的是只要能逃避责任和讨好皇帝。另外那些人希望捞取某种好处，吸引皇帝的注意力，就大喊大叫，拥护皇帝前一天暗示过的某件事，在会议上捶胸顿足地争论和叫喊，向不同意的人要求决斗，以此表明他准备为公众的利益而牺牲。第三种人，在两次会议中间而反对派又缺席时便直截了当地请求给自己一次补助作为自己忠实服务的报偿，他知道此时没有时间拒绝他。第四种人千方百计地表示自己辛勤工作。第五种人则为了达到其久已梦寐以求的宿愿——陪皇帝吃饭，拼命地证明一个刚提出的意见的正确或不正确，并为此举出或多或少有些正确和充分的论据。

这一派的所有人都在捞取卢布、勋章和官位。在这种追逐中只随着帝王恩宠的风向标转动，只要一发现风向标指向那一方向，结果却更难把风向标扭向另一方。在这动荡不定的局势中，在这使一切都处在惊慌和不安的严重危险中，在这阴谋自私、互相冲突各种观点和感情的漩涡中，加之所有这些人的种族差异，这人数众多，未谋私利的第八派给共同的事业增加了极大的混乱和惊慌。无论发生什么问题，这群蜂子在前一个题目上还未嗡嗡完，就飞到那个新问题上，并以自己的嗡嗡声压倒和淹灭那些真诚的辩论。

正当安德烈公爵来到军队时，从所有这些派别中正聚起一派，正提高自己的声誉的第九派。这一派由年事已高，有治国经验、聪明干练的人组成，他们不赞成互相对立的任何一种意见，冷静地观察大卡里发生的一切，思考摆脱目前这种方向不明，意志不坚，混乱一团和软弱无力状况的出路。

这一派人所思所想的是，一切坏事源于皇帝及其军事顾问们进驻军队，各种关系不明确，互相制约，左右摇摆不定都带进军队，这在家庭里可行。在军队就有害了。皇帝应该治理国家，而不是指挥军队，摆脱这种状态的唯一出路是皇帝及其宫廷从军队中撤出去，仅皇帝在场，为保护他个人的安全就使五万军队瘫痪；这个最差的，但是却独立自主的总司令也比那个最好的，然而却因皇帝及其权威而束手束脚的总司令要好得多。

正当安德烈公爵在德里萨闲住无事的时候，曾为这一派主要代表之一的希代科夫给皇帝与了一封信，巴拉瑟夫和阿拉克切耶夫也同意在信上签名。信中，利用皇帝准许他议论大局之便，借口必须鼓舞首都人民的战斗精神，恭请皇帝离开军队。

由皇帝亲自鼓舞和号召人民保卫祖国——这正是（就皇帝亲自到莫斯科来说）俄罗斯胜利的主要原因。为了给皇帝离开军队找个借口，提出的这个建议，被皇帝所接受了。

CHAPTER X

Chinese

THIS LETTER had not yet been given to the Tsar, when Barclay, at dinner one day, informed Bolkonsky that his majesty would be graciously pleased to see Prince Andrey in person, to ask him some questions about Turkey, and that Prince Andrey was to present himself at Bennigsen's quarters at six o'clock in the evening.

That day news had reached the Tsar's quarters of a fresh advance on Napoleon's part that might be regarded as menacing the army—news that turned out in the sequel to be false. And that morning Colonel Michaud had accompanied the Tsar on a tour of inspection about the Drissa fortifications; and had tried to convince the Tsar that the fortified camp, constructed on Pfuhl's theory, and hitherto regarded as the chef d'œuvre of tactical science, destined to overthrow Napoleon—that that camp was a senseless absurdity that would lead to the destruction of the Russian army.

Prince Andrey arrived at Bennigsen's quarters, a small manor-house on the very bank of the river. Neither Bennigsen nor the Tsar was there; but Tchernishev, the Tsar's aide-de-camp, received Bolkonsky, and informed him that the Tsar had set off with General Bennigsen and Marchese Paulucci to make his second inspection that day of the fortifications of the Drissa camp, of the utility of which they were beginning to entertain grave doubts.

Tchernishev sat in the window of the outer room with a French novel. This room had once probably been the main hall; there was still an organ in it, on which were piled rugs of some sort, and in the corner of the room was a folding bedstead belonging to Bennigsen's adjutant. The owner of the bedstead, too, was there. Apparently exhausted by work or festivities, he sat dozing on the folded bed. Two doors led from the room: one straight in front opening into the drawing-room, another on the right opening into the study. From the first door came the sound of voices speaking German and occasionally French. In the drawing-room there was being held, by the Tsar's desire, not a military council—the Tsar loved to have things vague—but a meeting of a few persons, whose opinions he wished to hear in the present difficult position. It was not a military council, but a sort of council for the elucidation of certain questions for the benefit of the Tsar personally. To this sort of semi-council had been bidden the Swedish general, Armfeldt, the general on the staff Woltzogen, Wintzengerode (whom Napoleon had called a renegade French subject), Michaud, Toll, Count Stein—by no means a military man—and finally Pfuhl, who was, so Prince Andrey had heard, la cheville ouvrière of everything. Prince Andrey had the opportunity of getting a good view of him, as Pfuhl came in shortly after his arrival and stopped for a minute to say a few words to Tchernishev before going on into the drawing-room.

At the first glance Pfuhl, in his badly cut uniform of a Russian general, which looked out of keeping, like some fancy dress costume on him, seemed to Prince Andrey like a familiar figure, though he had never seen him before. He was of the same order as Weierother, and Mack, and Schmidt, and many other German generals, men of theory, whom Prince Andrey had seen in the war of 1808; but he was a more perfect type of the class than any of them. Such a typical German theorist, combining in himself all the characteristics of those other Germans, Prince Andrey had never seen before.

Pfuhl was short and very thin, but broad-boned, of a coarsely robust build, with broad hips and projecting shoulder-blades. His face was wrinkled; he had deep-set eyes; his hair had obviously been hastily brushed smooth in front, but stuck out behind in quaint wisps. Looking nervously and irritably about him, he walked in as though he were afraid of everything in the great room he had entered. With a clumsy gesture, holding his sword, he turned to Tchernishev, asking him where the Tsar was. He was unmistakably eager to get through the rooms, to get the bows and greetings over as quickly as possible, and to sit down to work at a map, where he would feel at home. He gave a hurried nod in response to Tchernishev's words, and smiled ironically on hearing that the Tsar was inspecting the fortifications that he, Pfuhl, had planned in accordance with his theory. He muttered something in the jerky bass, in which conceited Germans often speak, “silly fool…” or “damn the whole business…” or “some idiocy's sure to come of that.” Prince Andrey did not catch his words, and would have passed on, but Tchernishev introduced him to Pfuhl, observing that he had just come from Turkey, where the war had been so successfully concluded. Pfuhl barely glanced, not at, but across Prince Andrey, and commented, laughing: “A model that war must have been of every principle of tactics!” And, laughing contemptuously, he went on into the room, from which the sound of voices came.

It was evident that Pfuhl—disposed at all times to be irritable and sarcastic—was that day particularly irritated at their having dared to inspect his camp and to criticise it without him. Thanks to his Austerlitz experiences, Prince Andrey could from this one brief interview form a clear idea of the man's character. Pfuhl was one of those hopelessly, immutably conceited men, ready to face martyrdom for their own ideas, conceited as only Germans can be, just because it is only a German's conceit that is based on an abstract idea—science, that is, the supposed possession of absolute truth. The Frenchman is conceited from supposing himself mentally and physically to be inordinately fascinating both to men and to women. An Englishman is conceited on the ground of being a citizen of the best-constituted state in the world, and also because he as an Englishman always knows what is the correct thing to do, and knows that everything that he, as an Englishman, does do is indisputably the correct thing. An Italian is conceited from being excitable and easily forgetting himself and other people. A Russian is conceited precisely because he knows nothing and cares to know nothing, since he does not believe it possible to know anything fully. A conceited German is the worst of them all, and the most hardened of all, and the most repulsive of all; for he imagines that he possesses the truth in a science of his own invention, which is to him absolute truth.

Pfuhl was evidently one of these men. He had a science—the theory of the oblique attack—which he had deduced from the wars of Frederick the Great; and everything he came across in more recent military history seemed to him imbecility, barbarism, crude struggles in which so many blunders were committed on both sides that those wars could not be called war at all. They had no place in his theory and could not be made a subject for science at all.

In 1806 Pfuhl had been one of those responsible for the plan of campaign that ended in Jena and Auerstadt. But in the failure of that war he did not see the slightest evidence of the weakness of his theory. On the contrary, the whole failure was to his thinking entirely due to the departures that had been made from his theory, and he used to say with his characteristic gleeful sarcasm: “Didn't I always say the whole thing was going to the devil?” Pfuhl was one of those theorists who so love their theory that they lose sight of the object of the theory—its application to practice. His love for his theory led him to hate all practical considerations, and he would not hear of them. He positively rejoiced in failure, for failure, being due to some departure in practice from the purity of the abstract theory, only convinced him of the correctness of his theory.

He said a few words about the present war to Prince Andrey and Tchernishev with the expression of a man who knows beforehand that everything will go wrong, and is not, indeed, displeased at this being so. The uncombed wisps of hairs sticking out straight from his head behind, and the hurriedly brushed locks in front, seemed to suggest this with a peculiar eloquence.

He went on into the next room, and the querulous bass notes of his voice were at once audible there.

第十章

英文

当巴克雷吃饭时转告博尔孔斯基说，皇帝本人要招见安德烈公爵，向他垂询有关土耳其的情况。下午六点钟，安德烈公爵要来到贝尼格森的寓所，此时这封信还没有呈交皇帝。

就在这一天，皇帝行辕收到一则有关拿破仑的新的行动可能危及我方军队的消息，这个消息后来证明不准确，也在这天早晨，米绍上校陪同皇帝巡视了德里萨的防御工事，并向皇帝证明说，由普弗尔设计构筑的这个牢固的阵地被认为是空前的战术家的chef—d'oeuvre①，它可以置拿破仑于死地，——这个阵地没有任何意义，倒是俄罗斯军队的坟墓。

①法语：杰作。

安德烈公爵来到贝尼格森将军的寓所，它坐落在紧邻河岸的一所不大的地主宅院里，那里既没有贝尼格森，也无皇帝，但是皇帝的侍从武官切尔内绍夫接待了博尔孔斯基，向他解释说皇上带着贝尼格森将军和保罗西侯爵今天第二次去视察德里萨营地防御工事，他们对这座营地防御工事的适用性开始产生极大的怀疑。

切尔内绍夫拿着一本法国小说坐在第一间屋的窗子旁边，大概这间房屋以前曾是大厅；屋内还有一架风琴，风琴上堆放着地毯，屋角里放着贝尼格森的副官的行军床。这个副官正在那儿，显然他被宴会或事务累得疲惫不堪，坐在卷着的被盖上打瞌睡，大厅有两道门：一道门直通原先的客厅，另一道往右通向书房。从第一道门里传来用德语、偶尔也用法语谈话的声音。那里，原先的客厅里，按皇帝的旨意正举行非军事性会议（皇帝喜欢含糊），他希望知道在目前困境下几个人的意见。这不是军事会议，好像是为皇帝个人阐明某些问题而召开的特邀会议。被邀出席这次非正式会议的有，瑞典将军阿姆菲尔德，侍从武官沃尔佐根，温岑格罗德，他被拿破仑称为法国逃亡者，米绍，托尔，完全不是军人的施泰因伯爵，最后是普弗尔本人，正如安德烈公爵听说的那样，他是所有事情的la　cheville　ouvrière①。安德烈公爵有机会仔细打量他，因为普弗尔在安德烈到后不久就来了，去客厅时他停下来与切尔内绍夫谈过一会儿话。

①法语：主脑。

乍看起来，普弗尔穿着裁剪很差的俄罗斯将军制服，好像被化了装似的，穿着不合身，安德烈公爵觉得他很面熟，虽然他从未见过他，他身上具有魏罗特尔、马克、施米特和其他许多安德烈公爵一八○五年见到过的德国军事理论家所具备的特点；但是他比其他所有人都更典型，安德烈公爵还从未见过一位如此把那些德国人的特点集于一身的德国军事理论家。

普弗尔身材不高，很瘦，但骨架宽大、体格健康，臀部宽阔，肩胛骨棱角分明。他满脸绉纹，眼窝深隐，额前的鬓发显然匆匆地梳理过，脑后的头发却一撮撮地翘起显得幼稚可笑。他一边走进房间，一边心神不宁地忿忿地四处张望，好像他害怕他走进的那一大间房中的一切似的。他笨手笨脚地扶着佩刀，用德语向切尔内绍夫打听皇帝在哪儿。显然，他想尽快穿过房间，结束礼仪和问候，在地图边坐下来着手工作，他觉得那才是舒适的地方，他一边听切尔内绍夫说皇帝去视察他普弗尔按自己的理论构筑的工事，一边匆匆地点着头，带着讥讽的意味微笑着，他自言自语地嘟囔了一句什么，仿佛像所有自信的德国人那样低沉而急促地抱怨Dummkopf……①或者：Zu　Grunde　die　ganze　Geschichte……②或者：S'wird　was　gescheites　d'raus　werden……③安德烈公爵没有听清他说什么，想走过去，但是切尔内绍夫把安德烈公爵介绍给普弗尔认识，并说安德烈公爵刚从土耳其回来，那里的战事幸运地结束了，普弗尔瞟了一眼安德烈公爵，与其说是看他，毋宁说是眼光一扫而过，大笑着说：“DaMuss　ein　schoCner　tactischer　Krieg　gewesen　sein．”④随后，轻蔑地笑笑，向那传出谈话声的房间走去。

①德语：愚蠢。

②法语：整个事情就要完蛋。

③法语：哼，有好戏看啦！

④法语：对啦，那一仗准是战术运用得正确。

普弗尔显然就爱讽刺挖苦人，特别是现在有人背着他去视察他的阵地并且妄加评判，这就更刺激了他。安德烈公爵通过这一次与普弗尔的短暂会见，再加之对奥斯特利茨战役的回忆，就为这个人勾划出了鲜明的形象。普弗尔是那类自信到不可救药，一成不变，以致于宁愿殉道的人之一，这类人只能是德国人，因为只有德国人根据远离现实的观念——科学，即臆想到的完善无缺的真理的知识才建立这样的自信。法国人所以自信是因为他认为自己无论智力还是肉体，无论对男人还是对女人都有不可抗拒的迷人的力量，英国人的自信是基于他是世界上组织得最好的国家的公民，是因为他作为一个英国人，总是知道该作什么，而且知道作为一个英国人所做的一切无疑是正确的，意大利人自信是因为他总是激动万分，容易忘掉自己和别人，俄罗斯人自信却是因为他什么也不知道，而且不愿知道，因为他不相信有什么事是可以完全了解的，德国人的那种自信比所有其他的都糟，都更顽固，更讨厌，因为他想象他知道真理，知道科学，那真理和科学是他自己杜撰出来的，可他却认为是绝对真理——显然，普弗尔就是这样的人，他有一种科学——他从腓特烈大帝战争史得出的迂回运动理论，他遇到的现代战争史中的一切，都使他觉得那些是毫无意义的、野蛮、混乱的冲突，其中战斗的双方都犯了如此多的错误，以致那些战争不能称为战争，它们不符合理论，不能作为科学研究的对象。

一八○六年，普弗尔是结束于耶那和奥尔施泰特的那场战争的计划拟定人之一；但是在这场战争的结局中他没有看见自己的理论有任何错误。相反，他认为所有失败的唯一原因是没有按照他的理论去做。他用自己特有的幸灾乐祸的讽刺口吻说：“Ich　sagteja，dass　die　ganze　Geschichte　zum　Teufel　gehen　werde．”①普弗尔是那种理论家之一，这种理论家如此偏爱自己的理论，以致于忘掉了理论的目的——应用于实际，他们由于偏爱理论而憎恨一切实际，连了解也不愿意。他甚至为失败而高兴，因为实际是由于背离理论而导致失败的，对他来说这种失败只能证明其理论的正确性。

①德语：我早就说过，整个事情都要完蛋。

他与安德烈公爵和切尔内绍夫说了几句关于当前战争的话，他的神情仿佛在说，我早就知道一切都会弄糟的，甚至对此抱有得意之色，那脑后一撮撮翘起的头发和匆匆梳过的鬓角都说明了这点。

他走进另一间房，那儿立刻传来他低沉而愤慨的声音。

CHAPTER XI

Chinese

PRINCE ANDREY had hardly seen the last of Pfuhl when Count Bennigsen came hurrying into the room, and bestowing a nod on Bolkonsky, went straight through to the study, giving some instruction to his adjutant. The Tsar was following him, and Bennigsen had hurried on to prepare something, and to be in readiness to meet him. Tchernishev and Prince Andrey went out into the porch. The Tsar, looking tired out, was dismounting from his horse. Marchese Paulucci was saying something to him. Turning his head to the left, the Tsar was listening with a look of displeasure to Paulucci, who was speaking with peculiar warmth. The Tsar moved, evidently anxious to end the conversation; but the Italian, flushed and excited, followed him, still talking, and oblivious of etiquette.

“As for the man who has counselled the camp at Drissa,” Paulucci was saying just as the Tsar, mounting the steps and noticing Prince Andrey, was looking more intently at his unfamiliar face. “As for him, sire,” Paulucci persisted desperately, as though unable to restrain himself, “I see no alternative but the madhouse or the gallows.”

Not attending, and appearing not to hear the Italian, the Tsar recognised Bolkonsky and addressed him graciously:

“I am very glad to see you. Go in where they are meeting and wait for me.”

The Tsar passed on into the study. He was followed by Prince Pyotr Mihalovitch Volkonsky and Baron Stein, and the study door was closed after them. Prince Andrey, taking advantage of the Tsar's permission to do so, accompanied Paulucci, whom he had met in Turkey, into the drawing-room where the council had assembled.

Prince Pyotr Mihalovitch Volkonsky was performing the duties of a sort of informed head of the Tsar's staff. Volkonsky came out of the study and bringing out maps laid them on the table, and mentioned the questions on which he wished to hear the opinion of the gentlemen present. The important fact was that news (which afterwards proved to be false) had been received in the night of movements of the French with the object of making a circuit round the camp at Drissa.

The first to begin speaking was General Armfeldt, who unexpectedly proposed, as a means of avoiding the present difficulty, a quite new project, inexplicable except as a proof of his desire to show that he, too, had a suggestion of his own. His idea was that the army should move into a position away from the Petersburg and Moscow roads, and, united there, await the enemy.It was evident that this project had been formed by Armfeldt long before, and that he brought it forward now not so much with the object of meeting the present problem, to which it presented no solution, as of seizing the opportunity of explaining its merits. It was one of the millions of suggestions which might be made, one as reasonable as another, so long as no one had any idea what form the war would take. Some of those present attacked his idea, others supported it. The young Colonel Toll criticised the Swedish general's project with more heat than any one; and in the course of his remarks upon it drew out of a side pocket a manuscript, which he asked leave to read aloud. In this somewhat diffuse note, Toll proposed another plan of campaign—entirely opposed to Armfeldt's, and also to Pfuhl's plan. Paulucci, in raising objections to Toll's scheme, proposed a plan of direct advance and attack, which he declared to be the only means of extricating us from our present precarious position, and from the trap (so he called the Drissa camp) in which we were placed. During all this discussion, Pfuhl and his interpreter Woltzogen (who was his mouth-piece in the court world) were silent. Pfuhl merely snorted contemptuously and turned his back to indicate that he would never stoop to reply to the rubbish he was hearing. But when Prince Volkonsky, who presided over the debate, called upon him to give his opinion, he simply said: “Why ask me? General Armfeldt has proposed an excellent position with the rear exposed to the enemy. Or why not the attack suggested by this Italian gentleman? A fine idea! Or a retreat? Excellent, too. Why ask me?” said he. “You all know better than I do, it appears.”

But when Volkonsky, frowning, said that it was in the Tsar's name that he asked his opinion, Pfuhl rose, and growing suddenly excited, began to speak:

“You have muddled and spoilt it all. You would all know better than I, and now you come to me to ask how to set things right. There is nothing that needs setting right. The only thing is to carry out in exact detail the plan laid down by me,” he said, rapping his bony fingers on the table. “Where's the difficulty? It's nonsense; child's play!” He went up to the map, and began talking rapidly, pointing with his wrinkled finger about the map, and proving that no sort of contingency could affect the adaptability of the Drissa camp to every emergency, that every chance had been foreseen, and that if the enemy actually did make a circuit round it, then the enemy would infallibly be annihilated.

Paulucci, who did not know German, began to ask him questions in French. Woltzogen came to the assistance of his leader, who spoke French very badly, and began translating his utterances, hardly able to keep pace with Pfuhl, who was proceeding at a great rate to prove that everything, everything, not only what was happening, but everything that possibly could happen, had been provided for in his plan, and that if difficulties had arisen now, they were due simply to the failure to carry out that plan with perfect exactitude. He was continually giving vent to a sarcastic laugh as he went on proving, and at last scornfully abandoned all attempt to prove, his position, as a mathematician will refuse to establish by various different methods a problem he has once for all proved to be correctly solved. Woltzogen took his place, continuing to explain his views in French, and occasionally referring to Pfuhl himself: “Is that not true, your excellency?” But Pfuhl, as a man in the heat of the fray will belabour those of his own side, shouted angrily at his own follower—at Woltzogen, too.

“To be sure, what is there to explain in that?”

Paulucci and Michaud fell simultaneously on Woltzogen in French. Armfeldt addressed Pfuhl himself in German. Toll was interpreting to Prince Volkonsky in Russian. Prince Andrey listened and watched them in silence.

Of all these men the one for whom Prince Andrey felt most sympathy was the exasperated, determined, insanely conceited Pfuhl. He was the only one of all the persons present who was unmistakably seeking nothing for himself, and harbouring no personal grudge against anybody else. He desired one thing only—the adoption of his plan, in accordance with the theory that was the fruit of years of toil. He was ludicrous; he was disagreeable with his sarcasm, but yet he roused an involuntary feeling of respect from his boundless devotion to an idea.

Apart from this, with the single exception of Pfuhl, every speech of every person present had one common feature, which Prince Andrey had not seen at the council of war in 1805—that was, a panic dread of the genius of Napoleon, a dread which was involuntarily betrayed in every utterance now, in spite of all efforts to conceal it. Anything was assumed possible for Napoleon; he was expected from every quarter at once, and to invoke his terrible name was enough for them to condemn each other's suggestions. Pfuhl alone seemed to look on him too, even Napoleon, as a barbarian, like every other opponent of his theory; and Pfuhl roused a feeling of pity, too, as well as respect, in Prince Andrey. From the tone with which the courtiers addressed him, from what Paulucci had ventured to say to the Tsar, and above all from a certain despairing expression in Pfuhl himself, it was clear that others knew, and he himself, that his downfall was at hand. And for all his conceit and his German grumpy irony, he was pitiful with his flattened locks on his forehead and his wisps of uncombed hair sticking out behind. Though he tried to conceal it under a semblance of anger and contempt, he was visibly in despair that the sole chance left him of testing his theory on a vast scale and proving its infallibility to the whole world was slipping away from him.

The debate lasted a long while, and the longer it continued the hotter it became, passing into clamour and personalities, and the less possible it was to draw any sort of general conclusion from what was uttered. Prince Andrey simply wondered at what they were all saying as he listened to the confusion of different tongues, and the propositions, the plans, the shouts, and the objections. The idea which had long ago and often occurred to him during the period of his active service, that there was and could be no sort of military science, and that therefore there could not be such a thing as military genius, seemed to him now to be an absolutely obvious truth. “What theory and science can there be of a subject of which the conditions and circumstances are uncertain and can never be definitely known, in which the strength of the active forces engaged can be even less definitely measured? No one can, or possibly could, know the relative positions of our army and the enemy's in another twenty-four hours, and no one can gauge the force of this or the other detachment. Sometimes when there is no coward in front to cry, ‘We are cut off!' and to run, but a brave, spirited fellow leads the way, shouting ‘Hurrah!' a detachment of five thousand is as good as thirty thousand, as it was at Schöngraben, while at times fifty thousand will run from eight thousand, as they did at Austerlitz. How can there be a science of war in which, as in every practical matter, nothing can be definite and everything depends on countless conditions, the influence of which becomes manifest all in a moment, and no one can know when that moment is coming. Armfeldt declares that our army is cut off, while Paulucci maintains that we have caught the French army between two fires; Michaud asserts that the defect of the Drissa camp is having the river in its rear, while Pfuhl protests that that is what constitutes its strength; Toll proposes one plan, Armfeldt suggests another; and all are good and all are bad, and the suitability of any proposition can only be seen at the moment of trial. And why do they all talk of military genius? Is a man to be called a genius because he knows when to order biscuits to be given out, and when to march his troops to the right and when to the left? He is only called a genius because of the glamour and authority with which the military are invested, and because masses of sycophants are always ready to flatter power, and to ascribe to it qualities quite alien to it. The best generals I have known are, on the contrary, stupid or absent-minded men. The best of them is Bagration—Napoleon himself admitted it. And Bonaparte himself! I remember his fatuous and limited face on the field of Austerlitz. A good general has no need of genius, nor of any great qualities; on the contrary, he is the better for the absence of the finest and highest of human qualities—love, poetry, tenderness, philosophic and inquiring doubt. He should be limited, firmly convinced that what he is doing is of great importance (or he would never have patience to go through with it), and only then will he be a gallant general. God forbid he should be humane, should feel love and compassion, should pause to think what is right and wrong. It is perfectly comprehensible that the theory of their genius should have been elaborated long, long ago, for the simple reason that they are the representatives of power. The credit of success in battle is not by right theirs; for victory or defeat depends in reality on the soldier in the ranks who first shouts ‘Hurrah!' or ‘We are lost!' And it is only in the ranks that one can serve with perfect conviction, that one is of use!”

Such were Prince Andrey's reflections as he heard the discussion going on around him, and he was only roused from his musing when Paulucci called to him and the meeting was breaking up.

Next day at the review the Tsar asked Prince Andrey where he desired to serve; and Bolkonsky ruined his chances for ever in the court world by asking to be sent to the front, instead of begging for a post in attendance on the Tsar's person.

第十一章

英文

安德烈公爵还来不及用目光送走普弗尔，贝格尼森伯爵就已匆匆走进房间，他向博尔孔斯基点点头，脚步不停地向自己的副官下达了一些指令就进了书斋。皇帝还在他后面，贝尼格森匆匆前来就是为了准备点什么，迎接皇帝。切尔内绍夫和安德烈公爵走到门廊台阶上。皇帝神情疲倦地下了马，保罗西侯爵正对皇帝讲着什么。皇帝头偏向左侧听着保罗西热烈的絮叨，看来皇帝想结束谈话，举步向前走，但是那个满脸通红、神情激动的意大利人忘了礼节，还跟在他后面继续说道：

“Quant　à　celui　qui　a　conseillé　ce　camp，le　camp　de　Drissa．”①保罗西说，这时皇帝已走上台阶，看见安德烈公爵，打量了一下这张他不熟悉的面孔。

①德语：至于那个建设构筑德里萨阵地的人。

“Quant　à　celui，sire，”保罗西仿佛按捺不住，不顾一切地继续说道，“Qui　a　conseillé　le　camp　de　Drissa，je　ne　vois　pas　d'autre　alternative　que　la　maison　jaune　ou　le　gibet．”①皇帝没听完，或许根本没有听意大利人的话，他认出了博尔孔斯基，亲切地对他说：“很高兴看见你，到那边他们聚集的地方去等着我吧。”皇帝走进了书斋，随后是彼得·米哈伊诺维奇·沃尔孔斯基公爵、施泰因男爵进了书斋，斋门在他们的背后关上了。安德烈公爵利用皇帝的许可，与他在土耳其时代就认识的保罗西一道走进正在聚会的客厅。

①德语：陛下，至于那个建设构筑德里萨阵地的人，我看他只有两个去处：一是疯人院，一是绞刑架。

彼得·米哈伊诺维奇·沃尔孔斯基公爵担任了类似皇帝的参谋长的职务，沃尔孔斯基走出书斋带着一些地图进了客厅，并把地图摊在桌子上，他转达了几个问题，想听听与会诸位对这些问题的意见。情况是，晚上收到消息（后来证实不正确），说法国军队要迂回进攻德里萨阵地。

阿姆菲尔德将军第一个发言，他出人意料地提出一个全新的（除了他有意表明他也能提出意见外）什么也不能说明的方案。在通往彼得堡和莫斯科的大路旁构筑阵地，他认为必须在那里集结军队，以等待敌人，这样才能摆脱现有的困境。看来这个计划阿姆菲尔德早已拟好，他现在陈述它，与其说目的是为了对提案予以解答（实际并未解答），不如说是趁机发表这个方案。这是无数建议中的一个，如果不考虑战争的具体特点的意义，那么这些建议同其他建议一样都有充足的理由，有些人反对他的意见，有些人拥护他的意见。年轻的上校托尔比其他人都更热烈地反驳这位瑞典将军的意见，在争论时，他从衣服口袋内掏出一本写满字迹的笔记本并请求让他读一遍，在这本记述详尽的笔记本中，托尔提出了一个与阿姆菲尔德或普弗尔的计划完全相反的作战计划。保罗西在反对托尔时，提出了一个向前推进和进攻的计划。按他的话说，这个计划能使我们从无所适从和我们所处的陷阱中摆脱出来（他是这样称呼德里萨阵地的），在进行这些争论时，普弗尔和他的翻译官沃尔佐根（他与宫廷关系的桥梁）沉默不语。普弗尔只是轻蔑地抽抽鼻子，扭过头去，表示他无论何时也不屑于反驳他现在听到的废话，但是当主持讨论的沃尔孔斯基公爵请他发表自己的意见时，他只是说：

“何必要问我呢？阿姆菲尔德将军提出了一个绝妙的后方暴露的阵地的主意。或者进攻Von　diesem　italienischen　Herrn，sehr　schoCn①。或者退却，Auch　gut②．问我干什么呢？”他说，“你们自己难道不比我更清楚吗？”但是当紧皱眉头的沃尔孔斯基说，他是代表皇帝问他的意见时，普弗尔站起来，忽然兴致勃勃地开始说：

①德语：这位意大利先生的意见，很好嘛。

②德语：也很好。

“一切都破坏了，一切都杂乱无章，所有人都想在认识上比我高强，而现在找我来了。怎么补救呢？没什么要补救的。应该切实按照我所阐明的原则去做。”他说着，用瘦骨嶙峋的手指敲着桌子。“困难在哪儿啦？胡说，Kinderspiel。”①他走近地图，用肌肉萎缩的指头点着地图，开始快速地讲起来，他证明任何意外的情况都不能改变德里萨阵地的适当性，一切都预见到了，假如敌人真要迂回，那就一定会被消灭。

不懂德语的保罗西用法语问他。沃尔佐根来帮助法语讲得很差的自己的长官，替他当翻译，他几乎跟不上普弗尔，普弗尔急速地证明说，不仅已经发生的一切，就连可能发生的一切，一切的一切在他的计划中都预见到了，如果现在有什么困难的话，那么全部过错都是因为没有分毫不差的执行他的计划。他不断露出讥讽的冷笑，证明了又证明，最后他轻蔑地停止了证明，仿佛他是一个数学家停止用各种书法验算一道已经证明无误的算题一样。沃尔佐根继续用法语代他说明他的思想，并不时对普弗尔说：“Nicht　wahr，Exellenz？”②普弗尔就像一个战斗中杀红眼的人一样打起自己人来，他生气地斥责沃尔佐根说：“Nun　ja，was　soll　denn　da　noch　expliziert　werden？”③保罗西和米绍齐声用法语反驳沃尔佐根。阿姆菲尔德用德语与普弗尔说着话。托尔用俄语在向沃尔孔斯基解释。安德烈公爵默默地听着，观察着。

①德语：儿童玩具。

②德语：对不对，大人？

③德语：那当然，还用得着解释吗？

在所有这些人当中，最能引起安德烈公爵同情的，就是那个愤怒、坚决、固执己见的普弗尔，在座的所有的人中间，显然只有他不为个人私利着想，不敌视任何人，只一心想着一件事——把那按照他多年辛苦研究出来的理论所拟定的计划付诸实践。他是可笑的，他的冷嘲热讽是令人不愉快的，可是他却无限忠诚于自己的理想，这就令人不由自主地肃然起敬。此外，在所有发言的人里面，除开普弗尔，都有一个共同的特点，这在一八○五年的军事会议中是没有的——这就是现在虽然被掩饰却仍然在每一个人的反驳中流露出对拿破仑的天才的恐惧和惊惶失措。他们都假设拿破仑无所不能，从各个方面都可出现他的影子，人们以他可怕的名字互相推翻对方的设想。好像只有普弗尔一个人认为拿破仑就象反对他的理论的人一样也是野蛮人。但是，除了尊敬的感情以外，普弗尔还使安德烈公爵产生怜悯之情。根据宫廷大臣对待他的态度，根据保罗西胆敢对皇帝说的那些话，最主要是根据普弗尔本人有点失望的表情来看，虽然，其他人都知道，他自己也感觉得出，他倒台的日子已不远了。尽管他很自信，具有德国人的好抱怨的爱讥讽的性格，连同他那梳光的鬓角和脑后一撮撮翘起的头发，都使他觉自己可怜，虽然他把这些隐藏在自己的愤怒和蔑视之下，但是他陷入绝望，因为用大规模的实验来检验和向全世界证明地的理论的正确性的唯一机会，现在从他手中失去了。

辩论继续了很久，而且他们讨论得越久，争论也越激烈，甚至大吼大叫，互相诋毁，因而要从所有发言中得出一个共同的结论也更不可能不听着这场各种语言交织的谈话以及这些设想、计划、辩驳和叫喊、他对他们所说的话，只有感到不胜惊讶。在他从事军事活动期间，他很早而且常常有一种想法——没有也不可能有什么军事科学，因而也没有任何所谓的军事天才，现在在他看来已是十分明显的真理。“如果一场战争的条件和环境不明了也不可能弄清楚，投入战斗的兵力无以明确，又怎么谈得上那场战争的理论和科学呢？谁也不能知道也不可能知道，我方和敌方军队明天将是怎样的情势，而且谁也不可能知道这支或那支部队的力量如何。有时，是胆小鬼在前面喊道：‘我们被截断了！'于是开始溃逃，而有时是前面一位快活勇敢的人喊‘乌拉！'——一支五千人的部队就抵得上三万人，申格拉本战役即是如此；而有时五万人也会在八千人面前溃逃，就像在奥斯特利茨战役一样。在军事行动中如同在所有其他实践活动中一样，谈不上什么科学，什么也不能确定。一切都取决于无数的条件，在谁也无法预料的那一瞬间便可确定这些条件所起的作用。阿姆菲尔德常说我们的军队被截断了，而保罗西却说，法军陷入我两军夹击之中；米绍说，德里萨阵地不利在于背河布阵，而普弗尔却说，这正是阵地威力之所在。托尔提出一个计划，阿姆菲尔德提出另一个计划；而所有计划都好，也都不好，任何建议的好坏只有在事件发生时才显得出来。那么人们从何说起军事天才呢？难道天才就是会及时命令运送面包干，指挥那个向右那个向左的人？因为军人们被授予荣誉和权力，成群的蝇营狗苟的坏胚子趋炎附势，本不具备的天才品质都赋予了权势，于是他们便被称为天才。其实正相反，我所知道的最好的将军们——都是些愚笨和粗心的人。最好的是巴格拉季翁——拿破仑自己对此也承认，还有波拿巴本人！我记得那副在奥斯特利茨战场的自鸣得意的嘴脸。一个优秀的统帅不仅不需要天才和那些特殊的人类品质，而且相反，他要剔去那些人类最崇高、最完善的品质——仁爱，诗人气质，温情，从哲学探索问题的怀疑精神。他必须是目光短浅，坚信他所做的事是非常重要的（不如此他就没有足够的耐心），只有这样，他才是一个勇敢的统帅，上帝保佑，千万别成为那种今天爱惜一些人，明日又为另一些人怜惜。老在琢磨什么是对，什么是错的人。不言而喻，有权有势的人，自古以来人们就已为他们编造了一套天才的理论。其实军事上的胜利并不取决于他们，而取决于那些在队伍中喊：‘我们完了！'或者喊：‘乌拉！'的人们。只有在这些队伍中服务，你才会有你是有用的信心。”

安德烈公爵一面听着议论，一面这样思考着，直到保罗西叫他们时，他才清醒过来，大家都已经要离开了。

第二天阅兵的时候，皇帝问安德烈公爵，他想在那儿工作，安德烈公爵没有请求留在皇帝身边，而是请求到军队去服务，他永远失去了置身于宫廷的机会。

CHAPTER XII

Chinese

BEFORE THE BEGINNING of the campaign Rostov had received a letter from his parents, in which they informed him briefly of Natasha's illness and the breaking off of her engagement, and again begged him to retire from the army and come home to them. Natasha had, they explained, broken off the engagement by her own wish. On receiving this letter Nikolay did not even attempt to retire from the army or to obtain leave, but wrote to his parents that he was very sorry to hear of Natasha's illness and her rupture with her betrothed, and that he would do everything in his power to follow their wishes. To Sonya he wrote separately.

“Adored friend of my heart,” he wrote; “nothing but honour could avail to keep me from returning to the country. But now, at the beginning of a campaign, I should feel myself dishonoured in my comrades' eyes, as well as my own, if I put my own happiness before my duty and my love for my country. But this shall be our last separation. Believe me, immediately after the war, if I be living and still loved by thee, I shall throw up everything and fly to thee to press thee for ever to my ardent breast.”

It was, in fact, only the outbreak of the war that detained Rostov and hindered him from returning home, as he had promised, and marrying Sonya. The autumn at Otradnoe with the hunting, and the winter with the Christmas festivities and Sonya's love had opened before his imagination a vista of peace and quiet country delights unknown to him before, and this prospect now lured him back. “A charming wife, children, a good pack of hounds, ten to twelve leashes of swift harriers, the estate to look after, the neighbours, election to offices, perhaps, by the provincial nobility,” he mused. But now war was breaking out, and he had to remain with his regiment. And since this had to be, Nikolay Rostov was characteristically able to be content too with the life he led in the regiment, and to make that life a pleasant one.

On his return from his leave, Nikolay had been joyfully welcomed by his comrades and sent off for remounts. He succeeded in bringing back from Little Russia some first-rate horses that gave him great satisfaction, and won him the commendation of his superior officers. In his absence he had been promoted to be captain, and when the regiment was being made ready with reinforcements for active service, he was again put in command of his old squadron.

The campaign was beginning, pay was doubled, the regiment was reinforced with new officers, new men, and fresh horses, and had moved into Poland. The temper of eager cheerfulness, always common at the beginning of a war, was general in the army, and Rostov, fully conscious of his improved position in the regiment, gave himself up heart and soul to the pleasures and interests of the army, though he knew that sooner or later he would have to leave it.

The army had been compelled to retreat from Vilna owing to various complex considerations of state, of policy, and tactics. Every step of that retreat had been accompanied by a complicated play of interests, arguments, and passions at headquarters. For the hussars of the Pavlograd regiment, however, this whole march in the finest part of the summer, with ample supplies of provisions, was a most simple and agreeable business. Depression, uneasiness, and intrigue were possible only at headquarters; the rank and file of the army never even wondered where and why they were going. If the retreat was a subject of regret, it was simply owing to the necessity of leaving quarters one had grown used to or a pretty Polish hostess. If the idea did occur to any one that things were amiss, he tried, as a good soldier should, to put a cheerful face on it; and to keep his thoughts fixed on the duty that lay nearest, and not on the general progress of the war. At first they had been very pleasantly stationed near Vilna, where they made acquaintance with the Polish gentry of the neighbourhood, prepared for reviews, and were reviewed by the Tsar and various commanders of high authority. Then came the command to retreat to Sventsyany, and to destroy all the stores that could not be carried away. Sventsyany was memorable to the hussars simply as the drunken camp, the name given to the encampment there by the whole army, and as the scene of many complaints against the troops, who had taken advantage of orders to collect stores, and under the head of stores had carried off horses and carriages and carpets from the Polish landowners. Rostov remembered Sventsyany, because on the very day of his arrival there he had dismissed his quartermaster and did not know how to manage the men of his squadron, who had, without his knowledge, carried off five barrels of strong old ale and were all drunk. From Sventsyany they had fallen further back, and then further again, till they reached Drissa; and from Drissa they retreated again, till they were getting near the frontiers of Russia proper.

On the 13th of July the Pavlograd hussars took part in their first serious action.

On the previous evening there had been a violent storm of rain and hail. The summer of 1812 was remarkably stormy throughout.

The two Pavlograd squadrons were bivouacking in the middle of a field of rye, which was already in ear, but had been completely trodden down by the cattle and horses. The rain was falling in torrents, and Rostov was sitting with a young officer, Ilyin, a protégé of his, under a shanty, that had been hastily rigged up for them. An officer of their regiment, adorned with long moustaches, that hung down from his cheeks, was caught in the rain on his way back from visiting the staff, and he went into Rostov's shanty for shelter.

“I'm on my way from the staff, count. Have you heard of Raevsky's exploit?” And the officer proceeded to relate to them details of the Saltanov battle that had been told him at the staff.

Rostov smoked his pipe, and wriggled his neck, down which the water was trickling. He listened with little interest, looking from time to time at the young officer Ilyin, who was squatting beside him. Ilyin, a lad of sixteen, who had lately joined the regiment, took now with Nikolay the place Nikolay had taken seven years before with Denisov. Ilyin tried to imitate Rostov in everything and adored him, as a girl might have done.

The officer with the double moustaches, Zdrzhinsky, in a very high-flown manner, described the dike at Saltanov as the Russian Thermopylae, and the heroic deed of General Raevsky on that dike as worthy of antiquity. Zdrzhinsky told then how Raevsky had thrust his two sons forward on the dike under a terrific fire, and had charged at their side. Rostov listened to the tale, and said nothing betokening sympathy with Zdrzhinsky's enthusiasm. He looked, indeed, as though ashamed of what he was told, but not intending to gainsay it. After Austerlitz and the campaign of 1807, Rostov knew from his own experience that men always lie when they describe deeds of battle, as he did himself indeed. He had had too sufficient experience to know that everything in battle happens utterly differently from our imagination and description of it. And so he did not like Zdrzhinsky's story, and did not, indeed, like Zdrzhinsky himself, who had, besides his unprepossessing moustaches, a habit of bending right over into the face of the person he was speaking to. He was in their way in the cramped little shanty. Rostov looked at him without speaking. “In the first place, on the dike they were charging there must have been such a crowd and confusion that, if Raevsky really thrust his sons forward, it would have had no effect except on the dozen men closest to him,” thought Rostov; “the rest could not have even seen who were with Raevsky on the dike. And those who did see it were not likely to be greatly affected by it, for what thought had they to spare for Raevsky's tender, parental feelings, when they had their own skins to think of saving? And besides the fate of the country did not depend on whether that dike was taken or not, as we are told the fate of Greece did depend on Thermopylae. And then what was the object of such a sacrifice? Why do your own children a mischief in war? I wouldn't put Petya, my brother, in a place of danger; no, even Ilyin here, who's nothing to me but a good-natured lad, I would do my best to keep safe and sheltered,” Rostov mused, as he listened to Zdrzhinsky. But he did not give utterance to his thoughts, he had experience of that too. He knew that this tale redounded to the glory of our arms, and therefore one must appear not to doubt its truth: and he acted accordingly.

“I can't stand this, though,” said Ilyin, noticing that Rostov did not care for Zdrzhinsky's story; “stockings and shirt, and all—I'm wet through. I'm going to look for shelter. I fancy the rain's not so heavy.” Ilyin ran out and Zdrzhinsky rode away.

Five minutes later Ilyin came splashing through the mud to the shanty.

“Hurrah! Rostov, make haste and come along. I have found an inn, two hundred paces or so from here; a lot of our fellows are there already. We can get dry anyway, and Marya Hendrihovna's there.”

Marya Hendrihovna was the wife of the regimental doctor; a pretty young German woman, whom he had married in Poland. Either from lack of means or disinclination to part from his young wife in the early days of their marriage, the doctor had brought her with him in the regiment, and his jealousy was a favourite subject for the jibes of the hussars.

Rostov flung on a cape, shouted to Lavrushka to follow them with their things, and went off with Ilyin, slipping in the mud, and splashing through the pools in the drizzling rain and the darkness, which was rent at intervals by distant lightning.

“Rostov, where are you?”

“Here. What a flash!” they called to one another as they went.

第十二章

英文

罗斯托夫在开战前收到一封父母的来信，信中简短地告知他关于娜塔莎的病情以及与安德烈公爵解除婚约的事（他们向他解释说婚约是娜塔莎主动回绝的），他们又要求他退伍回家去，尼古拉接到信后并未打算请假或退伍，而是给父母写信说他非常惋惜娜塔莎的病情和退婚，他将尽力做好一切，以实现他们的愿望。他单独给索尼娅写了一封信。

“我心灵中的最亲爱的朋友，”他写道，“除了荣誉，什么也不能阻止我返回你身边。但是现在，在开战前夕，如果我把我个人的幸福置于对祖国的责任和爱之上，那么，不仅在全体同事面前，而且在我自己面前，我都是不光彩的。然而——这是最后一次离别了。请相信，战争结束后，假如我还活着，你还爱我的话，我将抛开一切，立刻飞到你的身边，把你永远拥抱在我火热的胸前。”

确实，只因为要开战才使罗斯托夫留了下来，耽误了他回家——他曾答应过——回去同索尼娅结婚，奥特拉德诺耶狩猎的秋季和伴着圣诞节和索尼娅的爱情的冬天，在他面前展示了一幅幽静的乡村生活图画，那种观乐而宁静的生活他以前并不了解，而现在却那样吸引着他。“一个贤慧的妻子，几个孩子，一群好猎狗，十至十二群凶猛的灵狸，农活、邻居，被选举为公众服务！”他想。可是，现在是在打仗，应该留在团队里，既然非要如此不可，尼古拉·罗斯托夫根据自己的性格来看，对团队生活也还满意，也能在这种生活中找到乐趣。

休假回来，同伴们高兴地迎接他，尼古拉被派去置办补充马匹，他从小俄罗斯（乌克兰）领回了好马，这使他很高兴，而且也博得长官的赞赏。在他外出时，他被提升为骑兵大尉，当团队按战时编制扩大名额时，他又回到原来所在的骑兵连。

战争开始了，团队向波兰进发，发了双饷，来了新的军官、新的士兵和新的马匹；主要的是队伍中普遍有一种伴随战争伊始的兴奋而欢乐的情绪；而罗斯托夫，意识到自己在团队中的有利地位，完全沉浸在军队生活的欢乐和趣味中，虽然他知道早晚会失去这种生活。

由于各种复杂的，国家的、政治的和战略的原因，军队从维尔纳撤退了。后退的每一步在总司令部中都伴随各种利害冲突，各种论断和感情的复杂变化，对保罗格勒兵团的骠骑兵来说，在夏季最好的季节，带着充足的给养进行这种退却是最简单最愉快的事情。泄气、不安和阴谋只有在总司令部才有，而在一般官兵中，人们是不去问到哪里去，为什么而去，如果有人为撤退而惋惜，也只是因为不得不离开久已住惯的营房，告别漂亮的波兰姑娘罢了。假如有谁觉得事情不妙，那么也会像一个优秀军人应有的样子，强作快活，不去想整个局势，而只顾眼前的事。当初是多么快活，驻扎在维尔纳附近，与波兰地主交往，期待并且受到皇帝和其他高级司令官的检阅。后来传来向斯文齐亚内撤退的命令，销毁不能带走的给养。斯文齐亚内值得骠骑兵们记忆，只因为这是一个“醉营”，这是全军送给斯文齐亚内营盘的外号，还因为在斯文齐亚内军队受到许多控告，指控他们利用征收给养的命令，同时夺走了波兰地主的马匹、车辆和地毯。罗斯托夫记得斯文齐亚内，是因为他进入这个镇的第一天就撤换了司务长，还因为他无力应付骑兵连的所有醉鬼，这些人瞒着他偷了五桶陈年啤酒。从斯文齐亚内继续撤退直到德里萨，又从德里萨撤退，已经接近俄罗斯边境了。

七月十三日保罗格勒兵团第一次发生了严重的事情。

七月十二日夜里，出事的前夜，下了一场带冰雹的暴风雨，一八一二年的夏季总的说来是一个以暴风雨著称的夏季。

保罗格勒兵团的两个骑兵连宿营在一片已经抽穗但却被马完全踩倒的黑麦地里。天下着瓢泼大雨，罗斯托夫和一位他所护卫的年轻军官伊林坐在临时搭的棚子里，他们团里一位留着长长络腮胡子的军官，去司令部后回来的路上遇雨，便顺路来看罗斯托夫。

“伯爵，我从司令部来，您听见过拉耶夫斯基的功勋吗？”这位军官便把他在司令部听来的关于萨尔塔诺夫战役的详请讲了一遍。

由于雨水流进了领口而缩着脖子的罗斯托夫吸着烟斗，漫不经心地听着，不时看看那位依偎着他的年轻军官伊林。这位军官是一位十六岁的男孩子，不久前才来团里，他现在与尼古拉的关系就像七年前尼古拉与杰尼索夫的关系一样，伊林在各方面都尽力模仿罗斯托夫，像一个女人似地爱着他。

留着两撇胡子的军官——兹德尔任斯基眉飞色舞地讲着，他说萨尔塔诺夫水坝是俄罗斯的忒摩比利。在这座水坝上拉耶夫斯基将军的行动堪与古代英雄媲美。兹德尔任斯基讲述了拉耶夫斯基迎着可怕的炮火，带着两个儿子冲上水坝，父子并肩战斗的事迹。罗斯托夫听着这个故事不仅没有讲话，附和兹德尔任斯基的喜悦心情，而且相反，却露出羞于听他讲述的样子，虽然他无意反驳他。在奥斯特利茨和一八○七年战役之后，凭自己一个人的经验，罗斯托夫知道，人们讲述战绩时，总是会说谎，他自己就扯过谎；其次，他有丰富的经验，知道在战场上发生的一切，与我们想象和讲述的全不一样。因而他并不喜欢兹德尔任斯基的故事，也不喜欢兹德尔任斯基本人，这个满脸胡子的人有个习惯，老是俯身凑近听他说话的人的脸，在狭窄的棚子里紧挨着罗斯托夫，罗斯托夫默默地看着他。“第一，在那个人们冲击的水坝上一定非常混乱和拥挤，如果拉耶夫斯基领着儿子冲上去，那么，除了他周围的十几个人外，再也不能影响其他人。”罗斯托夫想，“其余的人不可能看见拉耶夫斯基是怎样以及同谁冲上水坝的。而且那些看见此事的人也不会大为感动，因为在那性命攸关的时刻，谁还去注意拉耶夫斯基的案情呢？再说，能否夺取萨尔塔诺夫水坝与祖国的命运无关，不能与忒摩比利相比。既然如此，为什么要做出这样的牺牲呢？又为何要让儿子也参加战斗呢？换了我的话，不仅不会把弟弟彼佳带去，而且连伊林——虽不是我的亲人，但却是个善良的男孩，也要尽力设法安置到某个安全的地方。”罗斯托夫一边继续想着，一边听着兹德尔任斯基讲。但是他并不说出自己的思想、在这方面他是有经验的。他知道这类故事可以为俄军增光，所以要做出毫不怀疑的样子。他就是这样做的。

“我可受不了啦。”发现罗斯托夫不喜欢兹德尔任斯基的谈话，伊林就说道，“袜子、衬衫都湿透了。我要去找个避雨的地方。好像雨下得小了些。”伊林走出去了，兹德尔任斯基也跟着就离开了。

五分钟后，伊林在泥泞中啪嗒啪嗒地跑回棚子。

“乌拉！罗斯托夫，我们快走。找到了！离这儿两百来步有一个小酒馆，我们的人都已聚在那儿了。至少我们可以把衣服烤一烤。玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜也在那儿。”

玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜是团队医生的妻子，是医生在波兰娶的一位年轻、漂亮的德国女人，医生不是由于没有财产，就是因为新婚初期不愿离开年轻的妻子，就带着她随军东奔西走，在骠骑军官中，医生的醋意倒成了通常取笑的话题。

罗斯托夫披上斗篷，叫拉夫鲁什卡带着东西跟着自己，随后与伊林一起走了。他们在漆黑的夜里冒着小雨，踏着泥泞，蹚着积水行进，远方的雷电不时划破黑暗的夜空。

“罗斯托夫，你在哪儿？”

“在这里。好大的闪电！”他们彼此交谈着。

CHAPTER XIII

Chinese

IN THE INN, before which was standing the doctor's covered cart, there were already some half-dozen officers. Marya Hendrihovna, a plump, flaxen-headed little German in a dressing-jacket and nightcap, was sitting on a board bench in the foremost corner. Her husband, the doctor, lay asleep behind her. Rostov and Ilyin entered the room, welcomed with merry shouts and laughter.

“I say! You are having a jolly time here!” said Rostov, laughing.

“And what are you yawning over?”

“Pretty figures you look! There's a perfect waterfall from them! Don't swamp our drawing-room.”

“Mind you don't spatter Marya Hendrihovna's dress,” chimed in voices.

Rostov and Ilyin made haste to look for a retreat where, without offence to the modesty of Marya Hendrihovna, they might change their wet clothes. They went behind a partition wall to change; but in the little recess were three officers, who completely filled it up. They were sitting playing cards by the light of a single candle on an empty box, and nothing would induce them to budge from their places. Marya Hendrihovna lent them her petticoat to be hung by way of a curtain; and screened by it, Rostov and Ilyin took off their wet things and put on dry clothes, with the aid of Lavrushka, who had brought their packages.

They made up a fire in the broken-down stove. They got hold of a board, propped it on two saddles, and covered it with a horse-cloth; then brought out a little samovar, a case of wine, and half a bottle of rum. All crowded round Marya Hendrihovna, begging her to preside. One offered her a clean handkerchief, to wipe her charming hands; another put his tunic under her little feet, to keep them from the damp floor; a third hung a cape over the window, to screen her from the draught; while a fourth brushed the flies off her husband's face, to prevent their waking him.

“Let him alone,” said Marya Hendrihovna, with a timid and happy smile; “he will sleep well anyhow after being up all night.”

“Oh no, Marya Hendrihovna,” answered the officer, “one must look after the doctor well! Anything may happen; and he will be kind to me, I dare say, when he has to cut off my leg or my arm.”

There were only three glasses; the water was so dirty that there was no telling whether the tea were strong or weak, and the samovar would only hold water enough for six glasses. But that made it all the more fun to take turns in order of seniority to receive a glass from the plump, short-nailed, and not over clean fingers of Marya Hendrihovna. All the officers seemed indeed to be genuinely in love for that evening with Marya Hendrihovna. Even the officers who had been playing cards behind the screen soon threw up their game, and gathered round the samovar, catching the general mood, and joining in the homage paid to Marya Hendrihovna. The latter, seeing herself surrounded by these splendid and devoted young men, beamed with delight, which she sought in vain to conceal, though she was unmistakably alarmed at every movement made by her husband, who was slumbering behind her. There was only one spoon; sugar there was in plenty, but it took so long for all to stir their glasses, that it was settled that Marya Hendrihovna must stir the sugar for each in turn. Rostov took his glass of tea, and adding rum to it, begged Marya Hendrihovna to stir it for him.

“But you take it without sugar?” she said, smiling all the while, as though whatever she said or the others said had a quite different and very amusing meaning.

“I don't care about sugar, all I want is for you to stir it with your little hand.”

Marya Hendrihovna began looking for the spoon, which some one had pounced upon.

“Use your little finger, Marya Hendrihovna,” said Rostov; “it will be all the sweeter.”

“It's hot,” said Marya Hendrihovna, blushing with pleasure.

Ilyin took the bucket of water, and pouring a few drops of rum in it, went up to Marya Hendrihovna, begging her to stir it with her finger.

“This is my cup,” he said. “Only dip your finger in and I'll drink it all up.”

When the samovar was empty, Rostov took up the cards and proposed a game of “Kings” with Marya Hendrihovna. They tossed to decide which was to have the lady for a partner. Rostov proposed as a rule of the game that the one who was “king” should have the right to kiss Marya Hendrihovna's hand, and the one who was left knave should have to fetch another samovar for the doctor, when he waked.

“Well, but what if Marya Hendrihovna is king?” asked Ilyin.

“She is our queen already! And her commands are law.”

The game was just beginning when the doctor's dishevelled head popped up behind his wife. He had been awake for some time and listening to the conversation, and apparently he saw nothing agreeable, funny, or amusing in what was being said and done. His face looked depressed and weary. He did not greet the officers, but scratching himself, he asked them to move to let him pass. As soon as he had left the room, all the officers broke into loud peals of laughter, and Marya Hendrihovna blushed till the tears came, making her even more charming in the eyes of the officers. Coming in again from the yard, the doctor told his wife (who had lost her radiant smile, and looked at him in dismay in expectation of the sentence in store for her) that the rain was over and they must spend the night in their covered cart, or they would have all their things stolen.

“But I'll put an orderly on guard … two, indeed!” said Rostov. “That's nonsense, doctor.”

“I'll be sentinel myself!” said Ilyin.

“No, gentlemen, you have had plenty of sleep, but I have been up these two nights,” said the doctor, and he sat gloomily by his wife's side, waiting for the end of the game.

Looking at the doctor's gloomy face and sidelong glances at his wife, the officers grew even more lively, and many of them could not suppress their laughter, for which they hastily sought presentable pretexts. When the doctor had led his wife away, and settled himself with her in their cart, the officers lay down in the inn, covering themselves with their wet overcoats. But for a long while they stayed awake, chatting, recalling the dismay of the doctor, and the delight of the doctor's wife, or running out on to the steps to report on what was going on in the cart. Several times Rostov muffled his head up and tried to go to sleep. But again some remark roused him, again a conversation sprang up, and again there were peals of causeless, merry, childish laughter.

第十三章

英文

门前停着医生篷车的小酒馆已经聚集了五六个军官。玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜，一位胖胖的，长着淡黄色头发的德国女人，身穿短外套头戴睡帽，坐在一进门的屋角一张宽凳上。她的医生丈夫在她后面睡觉。罗斯托夫和伊林迎着一阵欢快的惊叫和笑声，走进了屋子。

“嗬，你们这儿好快活。”罗斯托夫笑着说。

“您怎么错过了好时光？”

“好家伙！这对落汤鸡！不要把我们的客厅弄湿了。”

“不要弄脏了玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜的衣裳。”几个声音一齐答道。

罗斯托夫和伊林赶紧找了一个不致使玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜难堪的角落换湿衣服。他们走到隔扇后面好换衣服；但这间小贮藏全被挤得满满的，一只空箱子上点着一支蜡烛，三个军官坐在那儿玩牌，怎么也不愿让出自己的位子。玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜拿出一条裙子当帷幔，就在这张帷幔后，罗斯托夫和伊林在带来背包的拉夫鲁什卡的帮助下，换下湿衣服，穿上干衣服。

人们在一只破炉子里生了火，有人搞到一块木板搭在两个马鞍上，铺上马被，弄到一个茶炊、食品柜和半瓶罗姆酒，并请玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜作主人，大家围坐在她周围。有人递给她一条干净的手绢，让她擦擦秀丽的小手，有人把短上衣铺在她脚下防潮，有人把斗篷挂在窗户上挡风，有人挥手赶开她丈夫脸上的苍蝇，以免惊醒了他。

“不要理他，”玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜含着羞怯的幸福的微笑说，“他整夜未醒，总睡得这么香甜。”

“不，玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜，”一个军官回答道，“应该巴结一下医生，将来他给我截胳膊锯腿时，可能会怜悯怜悯我。”

只有三只杯子，水脏得看不清茶浓还是不浓，而茶炊里只有六杯水，但是这样却更令人高兴：按年龄大小依次从玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜不太干净的留着短指甲的小胖手里接过茶杯。看来，今天晚上所有的军官确实都爱上了玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜。甚至在隔壁玩牌的几个军官也感染上了向玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜献殷勤的情绪，受到它的支配，很快丢下牌移到茶炊这里来了。玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜看见身边这群英俊有礼的青年，高兴得容光焕发，虽然她极力不显露出来，尽管她显然害怕身后睡梦中的丈夫的每一动弹。

只有一把茶匙，白糖很多，搅不过来，因此就决定，她轮流给每个人搅和。罗斯托夫接过杯子，向杯中掺了罗姆酒，就请玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜搅和。

“可您并未放糖啊？”她总是微笑着说，仿佛她说什么或别人说些什么都很可笑，别有用意似的。

“我不要糖，只想您亲手搅搅就行了。”

玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜同意了，开始找把被谁拿走了的茶匙。

“您用手指头搅吧，玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜，”罗斯托夫说，“这样更好。”

“烫！”玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜高兴得红了脸，说道。

伊林提了一桶水，往桶里滴了几滴罗姆酒，走近玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜，请她用手指搅搅。

“这是我的茶碗，”他说，“只要您伸进手指头，我全部喝干。”

当茶喝完时，罗斯托夫取来一副牌，建议与玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜一块儿玩“国王”。以抓阄的方式决定谁做玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜的搭档。按罗斯托夫建议的规则玩，谁做了“国王”，谁就有权亲吻玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜的手，而谁做了“坏蛋”，则要在医生醒来时，为他烧好茶炊。

“那要是玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜当了‘国王'呢？”伊林问道。

“她本就是女王！她的命令就是法律。”

游戏刚开始，医生蓬乱的头就从玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜身后抬了起来。他早就醒了，仔细听着人们在说些什么，显然，他认为人们所说的和所做的一切都没什么可乐、可笑和好玩。他的脸郁闷而颓丧。他没同军官们打招呼，搔了搔头，请挡路的人让他过去。他刚一走出去，全体军官就哄然大笑，而玛丽亚·亨里霍夫娜脸红得涌出了泪水，这么一来，在全体军官眼中，她更有吸引力了。医生从外面返了回来，对妻子说（她已经不再现出幸福的笑容，惊恐地看着他，等待着判决），雨已经停了，要去篷车里过夜，不然东西要被人偷光了。

“我派一个勤务兵上去守着，派两个！”罗斯托夫说，“就这样，医生。”

“我亲自去站岗！”伊林说。

“不，先生们，你们已经睡过觉了，而我可两夜未合眼。”医生说着，闷闷不乐地在妻子旁边坐下，等着玩牌游戏结束。

医生阴沉着脸，斜视着自己的老婆，军官们望着他那个样子更乐了，许多人忍不住笑出声来，赶紧尽力为他们的笑找一个无伤大雅的借口。医生领着老婆离开了并一起进了篷车，军官们也在小酒馆里躺了下来，盖上潮湿的军士衣；但是他们久久不能入睡，时而谈论医生刚才的惶惶不安和他老婆的兴高采烈，时而跑到外面，通报篷车里有什么动静。罗斯托夫好几次蒙上头想入睡，却又有什么评论吸引了他，就又开始谈起来，又传出了无缘无故的、快活的、天真的笑声。

CHAPTER XIV

Chinese

IT was past two o'clock, no one was yet asleep, when the quartermaster appeared, bringing a command to advance upon a little place called Ostrovna. Still with the same chatter and laughter the officers began hurriedly getting ready; again the samovar was filled up with dirty water. But Rostov, without waiting for tea, went off to his squadron. It was already light; the rain had ceased, and the clouds were parting. It was chill and damp, especially in their still wet clothes. As they came out of the inn, in the twilight of the dawn, Rostov and Ilyin both glanced at the leather cover of the doctor's cart, still glistening from the rain. The doctor's feet were sticking out from under the cover, and in the middle of the cart they caught a glimpse of his wife's nightcap, and heard sleepy breathing.

“She's really very charming,” said Rostov to Ilyin.

“An exquisite woman!” responded Ilyin, with all the gravity of a boy of sixteen.

Half an hour later the squadron stood drawn up on the road. The word of command was heard, “Mount!” and the soldiers crossed themselves and got on their horses. Rostov, riding ahead of them, gave the word: “Forward!” and drawing out four abreast, the hussars started with a sound of subdued talk, splashing hoofs, and jingling sabres. They trotted along the broad high-road, with birch-trees on each side of it, following the infantry and artillery, who had gone on before.

The broken, purplish-blue clouds, flushed red by the sunrise, were scudding before the wind. It grew lighter and lighter. They could see distinctly, still glistening from the rain, the feathery grass which always grows beside by-roads. The drooping branches of the birch-trees swayed in the wind, and dripped bright drops aslant across the road. The faces of the soldiers showed more and more distinctly. Rostov, with Ilyin, who would not drop behind, rode on one side of the road between the two rows of birch-trees.

On active service Rostov allowed himself the indulgence of riding a Cossack horse instead of the regimental horse, broken in for parade. He was a connoisseur and lover of horses, and had lately obtained a big sorrel horse with white tail and mane, a fine spirited beast of the Don breed, on whom he could out-gallop every one. It was an enjoyment to Rostov to ride this horse. He rode on, thinking of the horse, of the morning, of the doctor's wife, and never once giving a thought to the danger awaiting him.

In former days Rostov had felt fear when he was going into an engagement; now he had not the slightest feeling of fear. He had not lost his fears from growing used to being under fire (one can never get accustomed to danger) but from gaining control of his feelings in face of danger. He had schooled himself when going into action to think of anything except what one would have supposed to be more interesting than anything else—the danger in store for him. Earnestly as he strove to do this, and bitterly as he reproached himself for cowardice, he could not at first succeed in this. But with years it had come of itself. He rode now beside Ilyin, between the birch-trees, stripping leaves off the twigs that met his hand, sometimes touching his horse's side with his foot, handing the pipe he had finished to an hussar behind, without turning his head, all with as calm and careless an air as though he were out for a ride. He felt sorry to see the excited face of Ilyin, who talked a great deal nervously. He knew by experience the agonising state of anticipation of terror and of death, in which the cornet was plunged, and he knew that nothing but time could help him out of it.

As soon as the sun appeared in the clear strip of sky under the storm-clouds, the wind sank, as though not daring to spoil the beauty of the summer morning after the storm; the trees still dripped, but the drops fell vertically now—and all was hushed. The sun rose completely above the horizon, and vanished in a long, narrow cloud that hung over it. A few minutes later the sun showed even more brightly on the upper side of the cloud, tearing its edge. Everything grew bright and shining. And with the bright light, as though in response to it, rang out shots in front of them.

Rostov had not time to collect his thoughts and decide how far off these shots were, when an adjutant of Count Osterman-Tolstoy galloped up from Vitebsk, bringing the order to advance at full speed along the road.

The squadron overtook and passed the infantry and the battery, who were also quickening their pace. Then the hussars raced downhill, passed through an empty and deserted village, and trotted uphill again. The horses were beginning to get in a lather and the men looked flushed.

“Halt! in line!” said the officer in command of the division. “Left about face, walking pace!” sounded the command in advance.

And the hussars passed along the lines of the other troops to the left flank of the position, and halted behind our Uhlans, who formed the front line. On the right was a dense column of our infantry—they formed the reserves; on the hill above them, in the pure, clear air, in the brilliant, slanting, morning sunshine, could be seen our cannons on the very horizon line. In front, beyond a hollow dale, could be seen the enemy's columns and cannons. In the dale could be heard our advance pickets, already keeping up a lively interchange of shots with the enemy.

Rostov felt his spirits rise at those sounds, so long unheard, as though they had been the liveliest music. Trap-ta-ta-tap! rang out several shots, first together, then in rapid succession. All sank into silence again, and again there was a sound as of popping squibs.

The hussars remained for about an hour in the same spot. The cannons began firing. Count Osterman, with his suite behind the squadron, rode up; he stopped to say a word to the colonel of the regiment, and rode off to the cannons on the hill.

After Osterman had ridden away, the command rang out among the Uhlans, “Form in column; make ready to charge!” The infantry in front parted in two to let the cavalry pass through. The Uhlans galloped off, the streamers on their lances waving, and trotted downhill towards the French cavalry, who came into sight below on the left.

As soon as the Uhlans had started downhill, the hussars received the order to ride off uphill to cover the battery. Just as the hussars were moving into the place of the Uhlans, there came flying from the out-posts some cannon-balls, hissing and whistling out of the distance, and hitting nothing.

This sound, which he had not heard for so long, had an even more inspiriting and cheering effect on Rostov than the report of the muskets. Drawing himself up, he surveyed the field of battle, as it opened out before him riding uphill, and his whole heart went with the movements of the Uhlans. They were swooping down close upon the French dragoons; there was some confusion yonder in the smoke, and five minutes later the Uhlans were dashing back, not towards the spot where they had been posted, but more to the left. Between the ranks of Uhlans on the chestnut horses, and in a great mass behind them, could be seen blue French dragoons on grey horses.

第十四章

英文

两点多钟了，谁也没有睡着，司务长此时进来传达了进驻奥斯特罗夫纳镇的命令。

军官们仍然有说有笑，急忙开始做出发的准备；他们又烧了一茶炊不干净的水。可是罗斯托夫不等茶水烧好，就去骑兵连了。天已经亮了，雨也停了，乌云正散去。既湿又冷，特别是穿着没有干透的衣服更是这样。从小酒肆出来，罗斯托夫和伊林在晨光中端详了一下被雨淋得发亮的医务车的皮篷，车帷下面露出医生的两只脚，可以看见在车中间的坐垫上医生老婆的睡帽，听得见她熟睡中的呼吸声。

“真的，她太迷人了！”罗斯托夫对与他一起出来的伊林说道。

“多么迷人的女人！”十六岁的伊林一本正经地答道。

半小时后，排好队的骑兵连站在大路上。只听见口令：“上马！”士兵们在胸前画了个十字就开始上马。在前面骑着马的罗斯托夫命令道：“开步走！”于是，骠骑兵们四人一排沿着两旁长着白桦树的大道，跟在步兵和炮兵后面开拔了，只听见马蹄踩在泥泞的路上的噗哧声，佩刀的锵锵声和轻轻的谈话声。

在泛红的东方，青紫色的浓云的碎片很快被风吹散了，天越来越亮了。乡村道路上总是生长着的卷曲的小草，由于夜雨的湿润看起来更加鲜亮了；低垂的白桦树枝条湿漉漉的，轻风吹过摇摇晃晃，斜斜地撒下晶莹的水珠。士兵的脸孔越发看得清楚了。罗斯托夫与紧紧跟着他的伊林骑着马在两行白桦树之间的路旁行进。

征途中罗斯托夫无拘无束地不骑战马，而骑一匹奇萨克马。他是这方面的行家，又是一名猎手，不久前，他为自己搞到一匹顿河草原的白鬃赤毛的高头烈马，骑上它没有谁能追得到他。骑在这匹马上对罗斯托夫是一种享受。他想着马，想这早晨、想医生的妻子，就是一次也未想到面临的危险。

以前罗斯托夫作战时，常害怕，现在却不觉得丝毫的惧怕，不是因为他闻惯了火药味而不害怕（对危险是不能习惯的），而是他学会如何在危险面前控制自己的内心。他养成一种习惯，在作战时，除了那似乎最使人关心的事——当前的危险外，什么都想。在最初服役时，无论他怎样骂自己是胆小鬼，就是达不到现在的样子；可是年复一年，现在他自然而然地做到了。现在他与伊林并马行进在白桦树中间，时而随手从树枝上扯下几片树叶，时而用脚磕磕马肚皮，时而把抽完的烟斗不转身就递给身后的骠骑兵，如此从容不迫，一幅无忧无虑的样子，好像他是出来兜风似的。他不忍心去看伊林那激动不安的脸，就是那个话兴很多、心神不平的伊林，凭经验他知道这个骑兵少尉正处于等待恐惧和死亡的痛苦状态，他也知道，除了时间，现在没有什么东西可以帮助他。

太阳在乌云下一片晴空刚一出现，风就静下来，仿佛风不敢破坏夏日早晨雨后的美景；水珠仍然洒落，却已是直直落下，——四周一片寂静。太阳完全露出在地平线上，随后又消失在它上面一片窄而长的乌云里。过了几分钟，太阳撕破乌云的边缘又出现在乌云上边。一切都明光闪亮。好像响应这亮光似的，前方立刻响起了大炮声。

罗斯托夫还没来得及考虑和判定炮声的远近，奥斯特曼·托尔斯泰伯爵的副官就从维捷希斯克驰来，命令沿大路跑步前进。

骑兵连经过同样急速前进的步兵和炮步，冲下山坡，穿过一个空无一人的村庄，又上一个山坡。马匹开始出汗，而人满脸通红。

“立定，看齐！”前面传来营长的命令。

“左转弯，开步走！”前边又传来口令。

于是骠骑兵沿着长列的军队赶到阵地的左翼，在第一线的枪骑兵后停下来。右面是我军密集的步兵纵队——这是后备队；山上更高的地方，在一尘不染的明净的空气中，在朝阳明亮的斜照下，最远处地平线上，可见我军的大炮。前面谷地可见敌人的纵队和大炮，可听见谷地里我军散兵线的枪声，他们已投入战斗，欢快的与敌人互相射击的枪声清晰可闻。

罗斯托夫仿佛听到最欢快的音乐似的内心觉得很舒适，他好久没听见过这声音了。特啦啪—嗒—嗒—嗒啪！有时噼哩啪啦。枪声齐鸣，有时却又快速地一声接一声，接连响了好几枪。四周又沉寂了，随后好像有人放爆竹似的，又接连不断响起来。

骠骑兵原地不动站了约一个钟头。炮轰也开始了。奥斯特曼伯爵带着侍从从骑兵连后边驰过来，停下与团长交谈了几句，就向山上的炮兵阵地驰去。

奥斯特曼刚离去，枪骑兵们就听到口令：

“成纵队，准备冲击！”他的前面的部兵分成两排，以便骑兵通过。枪骑兵出动了，长矛上的小旗飘动，向山下左方出现的法国骑兵冲去。

枪骑兵刚冲到山下，骠骑兵就奉命上山掩护炮兵。骠骑兵刚在枪骑兵的阵地上停下来，就从散兵线那儿远远地飞来咝咝呼啸的炮弹，没有命中。

罗斯托夫好久没有听到这种声音了，心里觉得比以前的射击声更使他高兴和兴奋。他挺直身子，察看山前开阔的战场，全心关注着枪骑兵的行动。枪骑兵向法军龙骑兵扑过去，在烟雾蒙蒙中混成一团，过了五分钟，枪骑兵退了回来，他们不是退回到他们原来呆的地方，而是退向左边。在骑枣红马的橙黄色的枪骑兵中间和后面是一大片骑灰色马、身着蓝色制服的法军龙骑兵。

CHAPTER XV

Chinese

ROSTOV, with his keen sportsman's eye, was one of the first to descry these blue dragoons pursuing our Uhlans. Nearer and nearer flew the disordered crowds of the Uhlans and the French dragoons in pursuit of them. He could see now separate figures, looking small at the bottom of the hill, fighting, overtaking one another, and waving their arms and their swords.

Rostov gazed at what was passing before him as at a hunt. He felt instinctively that if he were to charge with his hussars on the French dragoons now, they could not stand their ground; but if he were to charge it must be that very minute or it would be too late. He looked round. The captain standing beside him had his eyes too fixed on the cavalry below.

“Andrey Sevastianitch,” said Rostov, “we could close them in, surely …”

“And a smart job, too,” said the captain, “and indeed …”

Rostov, without waiting for his answer, set spurs to his horse and galloped off in front of his squadron. Before he had time to give the command, the whole squadron, sharing his feeling, flew after him. Rostov himself could not have said how or why he did it. He did it all, as he did everything in a wolf hunt, without thinking or considering. He saw that the dragoons were near, that they were galloping in no order, he knew they could not stand their ground; he knew there was only one minute to act in, which would not return if he let it slip. The cannon balls were hissing and whistling so inspiritingly about him, his horse pulled so eagerly forward that he could not resist it. He spurred his horse, shouted the command, and the same instant flew full trot down-hill towards the dragoons, hearing the tramp of his squadron behind him. As they dashed downhill, the trot insensibly passed into a gallop that became swifter and swifter, as they drew nearer their Uhlans and the French dragoons pursuing them. The dragoons were close now. The foremost, seeing the hussars, began turning back; the hindmost halted. With the same feeling with which he had dashed off to cut off the wolf's escape, Rostov, letting his Don horse go at his utmost speed, galloped to cut off the broken ranks of the dragoons. One Uhlan halted; another, on foot, flung himself to the ground to avoid being knocked down; a riderless horse was carried along with the hussars. Almost all the dragoons were galloping back. Rostov picked out one of them on a grey horse and flew after him. On the way he rode straight at a bush; his gallant horse cleared it; and Nikolay was hardly straight in the saddle again when he saw in a few seconds he would overtake the enemy he had pitched upon as his aim. The Frenchman, probably an officer from his uniform, sat crouched upon his grey horse, and urging it on with his sword. In another instant Rostov's horse dashed up against the grey horse's hindquarters, almost knocking it over, and at the same second Rostov, not knowing why he did so, raised his sword, and aimed a blow at the Frenchman.

The instant he did this all Rostov's eagerness suddenly vanished. The officer fell to the ground, not so much from the sword cut, for it had only just grazed his arm above the elbow, as from fright and the shock to his horse. As Rostov pulled his horse in, his eyes sought his foe to see what sort of man he had vanquished. The French officer was hopping along on the ground, with one foot caught in the stirrup. Screwing up his eyes, as though expecting another blow every instant, he glanced up at Rostov frowning with an expression of terror. His pale, mud-stained face—fair and young, with a dimple on the chin and clear blue eyes—was the most unwarlike, most good-natured face, more in place by a quiet fireside than on the field of battle. Before Rostov could make up his mind what to do with him, the officer shouted, “I surrender.” He tried hurriedly and failed to extricate his foot from the stirrup, and still gazed with his frightened blue eyes at Rostov. The hussars, galloping up, freed his foot, and got him into his saddle. The hussars were busily engaged on all sides with the dragoons; one was wounded, but though his face was streaming with blood he would not let go of his horse; another put his arms round an hussar as he sat perched up behind on his horse; a third was clambering on to his horse, supported by an hussar. The French infantry were in front, firing as they ran. The hussars galloped hastily back with their prisoners. Rostov galloped back with the rest, conscious of some disagreeable sensation, a kind of ache at his heart. A glimpse of something vague and confused, of which he could not get a clear view, seemed to have come to him with the capture of that French officer and the blow he had dealt him.

Count Osterman-Tolstoy met the hussars on their return, summoned Rostov, thanked him and told him he would report his gallant action to the Tsar and would recommend him for the cross of St. George. When Rostov was called up to Count Osterman, bethinking himself that he had received no command to charge, he had no doubt that his commanding officer sent for him to reprimand him for his breach of discipline. Osterman's flattering words and promise of a reward should, therefore, have been a pleasant surprise to Rostov; but he still suffered from that unpleasant vague feeling of moral nausea. “Why, what on earth is it that's worrying me?” he wondered, as he rode away from the general. “Ilyin? No, he's all right. Did I do anything disgraceful? No, that's not it either!” Something else fretted him like a remorse. “Yes, yes, that officer with the dimple. And I remember clearly how my hand paused when I had lifted it.”

Rostov saw the prisoners being led away, and galloped after them to look at his Frenchman with the dimple in his chin. He was sitting in his strange uniform on one of the spare horses, looking uneasily about him. The sword-cut in his arm could hardly be called a wound. He looked at Rostov with a constrained smile, and waved his hand by way of a greeting. Rostov still felt the same discomfort and vague remorse.

All that day and the next Rostov's friends and comrades noticed that, without being exactly depressed or irritable, he was silent, dreamy, and preoccupied. He did not care to drink, tried to be alone, and seemed absorbed in thought. Rostov was still pondering on his brilliant exploit, which, to his amazement, had won him the St. George's Cross and made his reputation indeed for fearless gallantry. There was something he could not fathom in it. “So they are even more frightened than we are,” he thought. “Why, is this all that's meant by heroism? And did I do it for the sake of my country? And was he to blame with his dimple and his blue eyes? How frightened he was! He thought I was going to kill him. Why should I kill him? My hand trembled. And they have given me the St. George's Cross. I can't make it out, I can't make it out!”

But while Nikolay was worrying over these questions in his heart and unable to find any clear solution of the doubts that troubled him, the wheel of fortune was turning in his favour, as so often happens in the service. He was brought forward after the affair at Ostrovna, received the command of a battalion of hussars, and when an officer of dauntless courage was wanted he was picked out.

第十五章

英文

罗斯托夫以自己锐利的猎人的眼睛第一个望见这些蓝色的法国龙骑兵追赶我们的枪骑兵，队形混乱的枪骑兵人群和追赶他们的法军龙骑兵越来越接近了，已经可以看见这些在山上显得很小的人们如何互相厮杀、追赶，如何挥舞胳膊或佩刀。

罗斯托夫像看猎犬逐兽似的看着面前发生的一切。他以嗅觉感觉到，如果现在与骠骑兵一起冲向法军龙骑兵，他们会站不住脚的；可是，如果要冲锋，就得即刻冲锋，一分钟也不能拖，否则就迟了。他环视自己周围。大尉就站在身旁，也目不转睛地望着下面的骑兵。

“安德烈·谢瓦斯季扬内奇，”罗斯托夫说，“要知道我们可以冲垮他们……”

“是厉害的一着，”

大尉说：“确实……”

没有听完他的话，罗斯托夫就策马驰到骑兵连前面，没有等他发出出击的口令，跟他有同感的整个骑兵连，都随他之后驱动了战马。罗斯托夫自己不知道，他是怎样做的，又为何这样做。他做这一切，正像他在打猎时所做的一样，不假思索，不假考虑。他看见龙骑兵走近了，他们在奔驰，队形散乱；他知道他们会支持不住的，他知道，时机只在转瞬之间，稍一放过，就一去不复返了。炮弹那么激烈地在他周围咝咝呼啸，战马是那样跃跃欲奔，以致于笼它不住了。他策动了战马，发出口令，在此同时，他听见身后展开队形的骑兵连的得得马蹄声，他们飞奔着冲向山下的龙骑兵。他们刚下山，大步的奔驰自然而然转为疾驰，越接近自己的枪骑兵和追赶他们的法国龙骑兵，就越驰越快，离龙骑兵很近了，前面那些看见骠骑兵的龙骑兵开始向后转，后面的停住了。怀着堵截狼的心情，罗斯托夫完全放开自己的顿河马，疾驰着堵截队形混乱的龙骑兵。一个枪骑兵停下来了，一个步兵伏下身子以免被马踩着，一匹失掉了马鞍的马混在骠骑兵中间。几乎所有的法军龙骑兵都向后奔逃。罗斯托夫挑了一个骑灰马的龙骑兵紧追下去。途中遇见一个灌木丛；那匹骏马驮着他飞跃而过，差点把尼古拉掀下马鞍，眼看再有几秒钟就可以追上那个他选作目标的敌人。这个法国人根据其制服来看大概是个军官，他在灰色马上弯着腰，用佩刀赶马飞奔。顷刻之间，罗斯托夫的战马的前胸已碰着那个军官的马屁股，差点把它撞个四脚朝天，就在同一瞬间，罗斯托夫自己也不知为什么，就举起佩刀，照着那法国人劈去。

就在他这样做的同一刹那，罗斯托夫全身劲头忽然消失了。那军官倒下了，与其说他是由于刀劈，不如说是由于马的冲撞和恐惧，他的肘弯上方只受了一点轻伤。罗斯托夫勒住马，以目光察看自己的敌人，好看看他战胜了谁。那法军龙骑兵军官以一只脚在地上跳着，另一只脚挂在马蹬上了。他吓得眯缝着眼睛，好像等待随时可能的新的打击，皱着眉头，带着恐怖的表情从下往上望着罗斯托夫。他的脸色苍白，沾满泥泞，头发淡黄色，年轻，下巴上有个酒窝，一双浅蓝色的眼睛，完全不像战场上含有敌意的脸，而是最平常和最普通的脸。在罗斯托夫还未决定拿他怎么办之前，这军官就喊道：“Je　me　rends！”①他慌里慌张地想从马蹬里抽出脚来，但是抽不出来，一对惊慌的蓝眼睛，不停地望着罗斯托夫。驰过来的骠骑兵帮他把脚抽出来并把他扶到马鞍上，骠骑兵们从四方收容龙骑兵；有一个受了伤，满脸是鲜血，仍不愿放弃自己的马；另一个抱着骠骑兵坐在马屁股上；第三个由骠骑兵扶着才爬上马背。前方法军步兵一面奔跑，一面射击。骠骑兵们赶忙带着自己的俘虏驰向后方，罗斯托夫同别人一起驰向后方，一种不愉快的感觉使他胸中发闷。他俘虏这个军官并劈他一刀所引起的某种模糊的、混乱的感觉，他无论怎样也不能向自己解释。

①法语：我投降。

奥斯特曼·托尔斯泰伯爵迎着回来的骠骑兵，他叫来罗斯托夫，感谢他并说他将向皇帝报告他的英勇行为，申请授予他圣乔治十字勋章。当人们叫罗斯托夫去见奥斯特曼伯爵时，他记起自己不待命令就发起冲锋，现在长官传唤他，一定是为他的擅自行为而处罚他。所以奥斯特曼一番赞扬的话和许诺给他奖赏，本应使罗斯托夫受宠若惊；但是仍然有一种不愉快的模糊的感觉使他恶心。“是什么使我痛苦不堪呢？”他问着自己离开了将军。“是伊林吗？不，他安然无恙。是我做过什么丢脸的事吗？不，没有那回事！”某件类似后悔的事折磨着他。“是的，是的，是为那个下巴有一个小酒窝的法国军官，我清楚地记得，我举起手臂又停住了。”

罗斯托夫看见被押走的俘虏，于是驰到他们后面，要看看自己那位下巴有酒窝的法国人。他穿着古怪的制服坐在骠骑兵的焦躁不安的马上，神色不安地望着四周。他手臂上的伤几乎不算是伤。他向罗斯托夫装出笑脸、向他挥手致意。罗斯托夫就是这样也觉得不好意思，有点害臊。

当天和第二天，罗斯托夫的朋友和同事们发现他闷闷不乐，他不是寂寞，不是生气，而是默默不语，若有所思，神情专注。他毫无兴致地喝酒，尽量一个人躲起来思索着什么。

罗斯托夫老在想那使他惊奇的辉煌的战功，赏给他圣乔治十字勋章，甚至获得勇士的名声——他有一点弄不明白。

“如此看来，他们比我们还害怕！”他想。“这样就称为英雄气概吗？难道我这样做就是为祖国吗？那个生个小酒窝和蓝眼睛的人有什么罪呢？他多恐惧啊！他认为我会杀死他。为什么我要杀他呢？我的手发抖了。可他们授给我圣乔治十字勋章，我一点也不明白！”

可是，当尼古拉为这些问题操心，怎么也不能给自己一个明确的答案，是什么折磨着他时，服役的幸运车轮又转到他身上。在奥斯特罗夫纳战役后，他首先被提升了，把一个营的骠骑兵交给他指挥。当需要勇敢军官的时候，人们把委任给了他。

CHAPTER XVI

Chinese

COUNTESS ROSTOV had not recovered her strength when she received the news of Natasha's illness. Weak as she still was, she set out at once for Moscow with Petya and the whole household, and the Rostovs moved from Marya Dmitryevna's into their own house, where the whole family were installed.

Natasha's illness was so serious that, luckily for herself and her parents, all thought of what had caused it, of her conduct and of the breaking off of her engagement, fell into the background. She was so ill that no one could consider how far she was to blame for all that had happened, while she could not eat nor sleep, was growing visibly thinner, coughed, and was, as the doctors gave them to understand, in actual danger. Nothing could be thought of but how to make her well again. Doctors came to see Natasha, both separately and in consultation. They said a great deal in French, in German, and in Latin. They criticised one another, and prescribed the most diverse remedies for all the diseases they were familiar with. But it never occurred to one of them to make the simple reflection that they could not understand the disease from which Natasha was suffering, as no single disease can be fully understood in a living person; for every living person has his individual peculiarities and always has his own peculiar, new, complex complaints unknown to medicine—not a disease of the lungs, of the kidneys, of the skin, of the heart, and so on, as described in medical books, but a disease that consists of one out of the innumerable combinations of ailments of those organs. This simple reflection can never occur to doctors (just as a sorcerer cannot entertain the idea that he is unable to work magic spells) because it is the work of their life to undertake the cure of disease, because it is for that that they are paid, and on that they have wasted the best years of their life. And what is more, that reflection could not occur to the doctors because they saw that they unquestionably were of use; and they certainly were of use to all the Rostov household. They were of use, not because they made the patient swallow drugs, mostly injurious (the injury done by them was hardly perceptible because they were given in such small doses). They were of use, were needed, were indispensable in fact (for the same reason that there have always been, and always will be, reputed healers, witches, homœopaths and allopaths), because they satisfied the moral cravings of the patient and those who loved her. They satisfied that eternal human need of hope for relief, that need for sympathetic action that is felt in the presence of suffering, that need that is shown in its simplest form in the little child, who must have the place rubbed when it has hurt itself. The child is hurt, and runs at once to the arms of its mother or nurse for them to kiss or rub the tender spot, and it feels better for the kissing and rubbing. The child cannot believe that these stronger, cleverer creatures have not the power to relieve its pain. And the hope of relief and the expressions of sympathy as the mother rubs it comfort it. To Natasha the doctors took the place of the mother, kissing and rubbing her “bobo,” when they declared that all the trouble would soon be over, if the coachman were to drive to the chemist's shop, in Arbatsky Place, and buy—for a rouble and seventy copecks—those powders and pills in a pretty little box, and if those powders were given to the patient in boiled water precisely every two hours, neither more nor less.

What would Sonya, and the count, and the countess have done, how would they have felt if they had taken no steps, if they had not had those pills at certain hours, and the warm beverage, and the chicken cutlets, and all the detailed regime laid down by the doctors, which gave occupation and consolation to all of them. How could the count have borne his dearly loved daughter's illness if he had not known that it was costing him a thousand roubles, and that he would not grudge thousands more, if that would do her any good; if he had not known that, in case she did not get better, he would spend thousands more on taking her abroad and consulting doctors there; if he had not been able to tell people how Metivier and Feller had failed to diagnose the complaint, but Friez had fathomed it, and Mudrov had succeeded even better in defining it? What would the countess have done if she had not sometimes been able to scold her sick Natasha for not following the doctors' orders quite faithfully?

“You can never get well like this,” she would say, finding a refuge from her grief in anger, “if you won't listen to the doctors and take your medicine properly! We can't have any nonsense, when it may turn to pneumonia,” said the countess, and in pronouncing that—not to her only—mysterious word, she found great comfort. What would Sonya have done, had she not had the glad consciousness that at first she had not had her clothes off for three nights running, so as to be in readiness to carry out the doctors' orders, and that now she did not sleep at night for fear of missing the exact hour at which the innocuous pills were to be given out of the gilt pill-box? Even Natasha herself, though she did declare that no medicines could do her any good, and that it was all nonsense, was glad to see so many sacrifices being made for her, and glad to have to take medicines at certain hours. And she was even glad, indeed, to be able by her disregard of the doctors' prescription to show how little faith she put in them, and how little she cared for life.

The doctor came every day, felt her pulse, looked at her tongue, and made jokes, regardless of her dejected face. But then when he had gone into the next room, and the countess had hastily followed him, he assumed a serious face, and shaking his head gravely, said that though there was indeed danger, he had hopes from the effect of the most recent medicine, and that they could only wait and see; that the illness was more due to moral than physical causes, but … The countess slipped some gold into his hand, trying to conceal the action from herself and from him, and always went back to the sick-room with a lighter heart.

The symptoms of Natasha's illness were loss of appetite, sleeplessness, a cough, and continual depression. The doctors declared that she must have medical treatment, and therefore kept her in the stifling atmosphere of the town. And all the summer of 1812 the Rostovs did not visit the country.

In spite of the numerous little bottles and boxes of pills, drops, and powders, of which Madame Schoss, who had a passion for them, made a complete collection, in spite of the loss of the country life to which she was accustomed, youth gained the upper hand; Natasha's grief began to be covered up by the impressions of daily life; it ceased to lie like an aching load on her heart; it began to fade into the past; and Natasha began to return to physical health again.

第十六章

英文

伯爵夫人接到娜塔莎生病的消息时，仍未完全康复，身体虚弱，可还是带着彼佳和全家来到莫斯科，这样，罗斯托夫全家从玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜家搬进了自己的房子，并且永久在莫斯科居住下来。

娜塔莎的病很严重，以致于她的病因、她的行为、她与未婚夫决裂的思想，都已退居于次要地位，这对她本人和她亲属倒是一桩幸事。她病得都使人不去想她在所发生的这一切事情中有多少过错，她不吃不睡，眼见消瘦下去，常常咳嗽，从医生的言谈中可以感觉到她还在危险中。应该只想着帮助她。医生们来给娜塔莎看病。有时会诊，他们用法语、德语、拉丁语讲了许多，他们互相指责，开出了医治各类疾病的各种各样的药方；可是，他们中没有一个想到那个简单的道理，即他们不可能知道娜塔莎生的什么病，正如不可能知道一个活生生的人患了什么病一样：因为每个活生生的人都有自己的特点，常有特殊的、自己从未有过的、复杂的、不为医典上所载的疾病，不是医典所记的肺病、肝病、皮肤病、心脏病、神经病等等，而是这多种器官上无数病症同时并发综合症的一种。这个简单的道理医生们是不可能想到的（这就好比巫师不会去想他的巫术不灵），因为他们毕生的事业就是治病，因为他们治病可以挣钱吃饭，还因为在这事业上他们耗费了一生中最好的年华。但是主要的——医生们所以想不到这个道理是因为他们看见他们无疑是有用的，对罗斯托夫全家也的确有益处。他们之有益并非是逼着病人吞下了大部分有害的东西（这种害处几乎感觉不出，因为他们给的有害物质的含量很少），他们之有益、必需、必不可少（原因——现在总有，将来也会有江湖郎中、巫婆、顺势疗法和以毒攻毒）是因为他们满足了病人和关心病人的人们的精神需要。他们满足了一种永恒的人类需要，在痛苦时减轻痛苦的需要、同情和行动的需要。他们满足了那种人类的永恒的需要——在儿童身上表现为最原始的形式——抚摸一下那个撞痛的地方。小孩被磕着碰着，马上就会投进妈妈或保姆的怀里，希望能亲吻和揉一揉疼痛的地方，揉了和亲吻了那疼痛的地方后，他会觉得轻松些了。小孩不相信家中最有力、最聪明的人会没有办法帮助他消除疼痛，于是减轻痛苦的希望，母亲抚摸他的红肿处时的同情都安慰着他。医生对娜塔莎是有益的，因为他们亲吻和抚摸她的疼痛处，让人相信，如果现在车夫去一趟阿尔巴特的药店，花费一卢布七十戈比买一盒包装好看的药粉和药丸，并要每隔两小时用开水服下那些药（不多也不少）就会药到病除。

他们怎么可以什么也不做地看着，如果不按时给丸药、给温和的饮料、鸡肉饼、不遵守医生对一切生活细节的嘱咐（遵照医嘱做这些事是全家的慰藉），那么，索尼娅、伯爵和伯爵夫人又能做些什么呢？假如他不知道娜塔莎的病值得花去他数千卢布，并为挽救她不惜再花数千卢布；如果他不知道、假如她不见康复，他仍不惜花费数千卢布，送她去国外，为她会诊；假如他没有详细讲述梅蒂继埃和费勒如何不懂医道，而弗里茨却弄懂了，穆德罗夫诊断得更好，伯爵对爱女的病又如何忍受得了？如果伯爵夫人有时不为女儿不光遵守医嘱而同她吵吵嘴，那么伯爵夫人又能做什么呢？

“像这样你永远也不会康复，”她说，气头上她忘了自己的痛苦，“如果你不听医生的话，不按时服药！要知道这不是开玩笑的，会弄成肺炎的，”伯爵夫人说出这个不只是她一个人不明白的医学术语后，已经感到莫大的安慰了。假如索尼娅没有那种愉快的感觉：在头三个晚上她不曾脱衣裳，准备严格按照医生嘱咐行事，且现在她也经常熬夜，为的是不错过时机给病人服下那装在金包小盒里的有点毒性的药丸，那她会怎么样呢？甚至对娜塔莎自己，她虽然也说，没有什么药可以治好她的病，这一切都是胡闹，可看见大家为她做了如此多的牺牲，她必须按时服药也觉得高兴。她甚至为她不遵医嘱，以表示她不相信治疗，不珍惜自己的生命的行为而高兴。

医生每天都来，号脉、看舌苔、不顾她悲伤的表情，和她开玩笑。可是当他走到另一间屋子，伯爵夫人也赶紧跟他出去的时候，他就换上另一副严肃的面孔，若有所思地摇着头说，虽然有危险，他希望这最后一剂药能有效，必须等待和观察；多半是精神方面的病，但是……

伯爵夫人尽力不让自己和医生觉察，把一枚金币塞到医生手里，每次都怀着宽慰的心情回到病人那儿。

娜塔莎的病症特征是吃得少，睡得少，咳嗽，总是精神萎靡不振。医生们说病人离不开医疗帮助，所以还是让她呆在空气窒息的城里。一八一二年夏季罗斯托夫一家没有到乡下去。

虽然服了大量的药丸、药水、药粉，爱搜集小玩意的ma－dame　Schoss收集了一大批装药的瓶“盒”，尽管缺少已习惯了的乡村生活，但是青春占了上风；娜塔莎的悲伤开始蒙上日常生活的印象，这种印象已不那么痛苦折磨她的心了，痛苦开始变成往事，娜塔莎身体开始渐渐好起来。

CHAPTER XVII

Chinese

NATASHA was calmer, but no happier. She did not merely shun every external form of amusement—balls, skating, concerts, and theatres—but she never even laughed without the sound of tears behind her laughter. She could not sing. As soon as she began to laugh or attempted to sing all by herself, tears choked her: tears of remorse; tears of regret for that time of pure happiness that could never return; tears of vexation that she should so wantonly have ruined her young life, that might have been so happy. Laughter and singing especially seemed to her like scoffing at her grief. She never even thought of desiring admiration; she had no impulse of vanity to restrain. She said and felt at that time that all men were no more to her than Nastasya Ivanovna, the buffoon. An inner sentinel seemed to guard against every sort of pleasure. And, indeed, she seemed to have lost all the old interests of her girlish, careless life, that had been so full of hope. Most often, and with most pining, she brooded over the memory of those autumn months, the hunting, the old uncle, and the Christmas holidays spent with Nikolay at Otradnoe. What would she not have given to bring back one single day of that time! But it was all over for her. Her presentiment at the time had not deceived her, that such a time of freedom and readiness for every enjoyment would never come again. But yet she had to live.

It comforted her to think, not that she was better, as she had once fancied, but worse, far worse than any one, than any one in the whole world. But that meant little to her. She believed it; but then she asked: “And what next?” And there was nothing to come. There was no gladness in life, but life was passing. All Natasha tried after was plainly to be no burden to others, and not to hinder other people's enjoyment; but for herself she wanted nothing. She held aloof from all the household. It was only with her brother, Petya, that she felt at ease. She liked being with him better than being with the rest, and sometimes even laughed when she was alone with him. She hardly left the house to go anywhere; and of the guests who came to the house she was only glad to see one person—Pierre. No one could have been more tender, circumspect, and at the same time serious, than Count Bezuhov in his manner to her. Natasha was unconsciously aware of this tenderness, and it was owing to it that she found more pleasure in his society. But she was not even grateful to him for it. Nothing good in him seemed to her due to an effort on Pierre's part. It seemed so natural to Pierre to be kind that there was no merit in his kindness. Sometimes Natasha noticed some confusion or awkwardness in Pierre in her presence, especially when he was trying to do something for her pleasure or afraid something in the conversation might suggest to her painful reminiscences. She observed this, and put it down to his general kindliness and shyness, which she supposed would be the same with every one else. Ever since those unforeseen words—that if he had been free, he would have asked on his knees for her hand and her love—uttered in a moment full of violent emotion for her, Pierre had said nothing of his feelings to Natasha; and it seemed to her clear that those words, which had so comforted her, had been uttered, just as one says any meaningless nonsense to console a weeping child. It was not because Pierre was a married man, but because Natasha felt between herself and him the force of that moral barrier—of the absence of which she had been so conscious with Kuragin—that the idea never occurred to her that her relations with Pierre might develop into love on her side, and still less on his, or even into that tender, self-conscious, romantic friendship between a man and a woman, of which she had known several instances.

Towards the end of St. Peter's fast, Agrafena Ivanovna Byelov, a country neighbour of the Rostovs, came to Moscow to pay her devotions to the saints there. She suggested to Natasha that she should prepare herself for the Sacrament, and Natasha caught eagerly at the suggestion. Although the doctors forbade her going out early in the morning, Natasha insisted on keeping the fast, and not simply as it was kept in the Rostovs' household, by taking part in three services in the house, but keeping it as Agrafena Ivanova was doing, that is to say, for a whole week, not missing a single early morning service, or litany, or vesper.

The countess was pleased at these signs of religious fervour in Natasha. After the poor results of medical treatment, at the bottom of her heart she hoped that prayer would do more for her than medicine; and though she concealed it from the doctors and had some inward misgivings, she fell in with Natasha's wishes, and intrusted her to Madame Byelov.

Agrafena Ivanovna went in to wake Natasha at three o'clock in the night, and frequently found her not asleep. Natasha was afraid of sleeping too late for the early morning service. Hurriedly washing, and in all humility putting on her shabbiest dress and old mantle, Natasha, shuddering at the chill air, went out into the deserted streets, in the limpid light of the early dawn. By the advice of Agrafena Ivanovna, Natasha did not attend the services of her own parish church, but went to a church where the priest was esteemed by the devout Madame Byelov as being of a particularly severe and exemplary life. There were few people in the church. Natasha and Madame Byelov always took the same seat before an image of the Mother of God, carved at the back of the left choir; and a new feeling of humility before the great mystery came over Natasha, as at that unusual hour in the morning she gazed at the black outline of the Mother of God, with the light of the candles burning in front of it, and the morning light falling on it from the window. She listened to the words of the service, and tried to follow and understand them. When she did understand them, all the shades of her personal feeling blended with her prayer; when she did not understand, it was still sweeter for her to think that the desire to understand all was pride, that she could not comprehend all; that she had but to believe and give herself up to God, Who was, she felt, at those moments guiding her soul. She crossed herself, bowed to the ground, and when she did not follow, simply prayed to God to forgive her everything, everything, and to have mercy on her, in horror at her own vileness. The prayer into which she threw herself heart and soul was the prayer of repentance. On the way home in the early morning, when they met no one but masons going to their work, or porters cleaning the streets, and every one was asleep in the houses, Natasha had a new sense of the possibility of correcting herself of her sins and leading a new life of purity and happiness.

During the week she spent in this way, that feeling grew stronger with every day. And the joy of “communication,” as Agrafena Ivanovna liked to call taking the Communion, seemed to her so great that she fancied she could not live till that blissful Sunday.

But the happy day did come. And when on that memorable Sunday Natasha returned from the Sacrament wearing a white muslin dress, for the first time for many months she felt at peace, and not oppressed by the life that lay before her.

The doctor came that day to see Natasha, and gave directions for the powders to be continued that he had begun prescribing a fortnight ago. “She must certainly go on taking them morning and evening,” he said, with visible and simple-hearted satisfaction at the success of his treatment. “Please, don't forget them. You may set your mind at rest, countess,” the doctor said playfully, as he deftly received the gold in the hollow of his palm. “She will soon be singing and dancing again. The last medicine has done her great, great good. She is very much better.”

The countess looked at her finger-nails and spat, to avert the ill-omen of such words, as with a cheerful face she went back to the drawing-room.