[[英语园地]] 继续上《战争与和平》双语版

第二十章

英文 


这个大房间皮埃尔了若指掌，几根圆柱和一道拱门把它隔开来了，四面墙上挂满了波斯壁毯。房间里的圆柱后面，一方摆着一张挂有帷幔的高高的红木卧榻，另一方陈设着一个大神龛，像晚祷时的教堂一般，房间的这一部分灯火明亮，红光四射。神龛的灿烂辉煌的金属衣饰底下，放着一张伏尔泰椅，上面摆着几个雪白的、尚未揉皱的、显然是刚刚换上的枕头，皮埃尔所熟悉的他父亲别祖霍夫伯爵的端庄的身躯就躺在这张伏尔泰椅上，一床鲜绿色的被子盖在他腰上，在那宽大的额头上还露出狮子鬃毛般的白发，在那俊美的橙红色的脸上，仍旧刻有高贵者特有的深深的皱纹。他直挺挺地躺在神像下方，两只肥大的手从被底下伸出来，放在它上面。右手手掌向下，大拇指和食指之间插着一根蜡烛，一名老仆从伏尔泰椅后面弯下腰去，用手扶着那根蜡烛。几个神职人员高高地站在伏尔泰椅前面，他们身穿闪闪发光的衣裳，衣裳外面露出了长长的头发，他们手里执着点燃的蜡烛，缓慢地、庄严地做着祷告。两个年纪较小的公爵小姐站在神职人员身后不远的地方，用手绢捂着眼角边，公爵的大小姐卡季什站在她们前面，她现出凶恶而坚定的神态。目不转睛地望着神像，好像在对众人说，如果她一环顾，她就没法控制自己。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜脸上流露着温顺的忧愁和大度包容的神色，她和一个不认识的女士伫立在门旁。这扇门的另一边，靠近伏尔泰椅的地方，瓦西里公爵站在雕花的天鹅绒面交椅后面，他把椅背向自己身边转过来，左手执着一根蜡烛撑在椅背上，每次当地用手指碰到额角时，他就抬起眼睛，一面用右手画十字。他的脸上呈露着心安理得的虔诚和对上帝意志的无限忠诚。“假若你们不明白这种感情，那末你们就更糟了。”他那神色仿佛说出了这番话。

一名副官、数名大夫和一名男仆站在瓦西里公爵后面，俨如在教堂里那样，男人和女人分立于两旁。大家都沉默不言，用手画着十字，只听见琅琅祈祷声、圆浑而低沉的唱诗声以及静默时移动足步的响声和叹息声。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜现出威风凛凛的样子，表示她知道应该怎样行事，她于是穿过房间走到皮埃尔身边，把一支蜡烛递给他。他把蜡烛点燃了，因为他乐于观察周围的人而忘乎所以，竟然用那只拿过蜡烛的手画起十字来。

最年幼的长有一颗胎痣的公爵小姐索菲，两颊粉红，含着笑意，正在打量着皮埃尔。她微微一笑，把脸蛋藏进手绢里，久久地不肯把它露出来。但是她望了望皮埃尔，又笑了起来。显然，她觉得看见他就会发笑，但却忍不住，还是会看他，为避免引诱，她悄悄地窜到圆柱后面去了。在祈祷的半中间，神职人员的声音骤然停止了，但有几个神甫轻声地交谈了三言两语，一名老仆握着伯爵的手，站起身来，向女士们转过脸去。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜向前走去，在病人前面弯下腰来，从背后用指头把罗兰招呼过来。这个法国大夫没有执着点燃的蜡烛，作出一副外国人的恭敬的样子挨着圆柱站在那里，他那样子表明，尽管信仰不同，但他还是明了正在举行的仪式的全部重要意义，他甚至对这种仪式表示称赞。他迈着壮年人的不声不响的脚步向病人身边走去，用他那雪白而纤细的手指从绿色被子上拿起伯爵那只空手，转过脸去，开始把脉，他沉思起来。有人让病人喝了点什么，在他身旁动弹起来，然后又闪在一边，各自回到自己的座位上。暂停之后祈祷又开始了。在暂时休息的时候，皮埃尔看见，瓦西里公爵从椅子背后走出来，那神态表示，他心里知道应该怎样行事，假若别人不了解他，他们的处境就更糟了，他没有走到病人跟前，而是从他身边经过，他去联合公爵的大小姐，和她一起走到寝室深处挂有丝绸帷幔的高高的卧榻那里去了。公爵和公爵的大小姐离开卧榻朝后门方向隐藏起来了，但在祈祷告竣之前，他们二人前后相随又回到自己的座位上。皮埃尔对这种情形，如同对其他各种情形一样，并不太注意，他断然认为，今晚发生的各种事情都是不可避免的。

唱诗中断了，可以听见一个神职人员恭敬地祝贺病人受圣礼。病人仍旧是死气沉沉地一动不动地躺着。大家在他周围动弹起来了，传来步履声和絮语声，在这些语声之中，安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜的声音听来最刺耳了。

皮埃尔听见她这样说：

“一定要将病人移到床上去，在这里是决不行的……”

大夫们、公爵小姐们和仆役们都围在病人身边，以致皮埃尔看不见橙红色的头和狮子鬃毛般的白发，尽管在祈祷时他也看见其他人，但是伯爵的头一刻也没有越出他的视野，从围在伏尔泰椅旁边的人们的小心翼翼的动作来看，皮埃尔已经猜想到，有人在把垂危的人抬起来，把他搬到别的地方去了。

“抓住我的手，那样会摔下去的，”他听见一个仆役的惊恐的低语声，“从下面托住……再来一个人，”几个人都开腔说话，人们喘着粗气的声音和移动脚步的声音显得更加急促了，好像他们扛的重东西是他们力所不能及的。

扛起伯爵的人们，其中包括安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜在内，都赶上年轻的皮埃尔，走到他身边了，从人们的背脊和后脑勺后面，他隐约地看见病人又高又胖的裸露的胸膛，因被人搀起两腋而略微向上翘起的胖乎乎的肩膀和长满卷曲白发的狮子般的头。他的前额和颧骨非常宽阔，嘴长得俊美而富于肉感，目光威严而冷漠。这个头并未因濒临死亡而变得难看，和三个月以前伯爵打发皮埃尔去彼得堡时一模一样。但是，这个头竟因扛起伯爵的人脚步不均匀而显得软弱无力，微微地摇晃，他那冷漠的目光真不知要停留在什么上面。

扛过病人的人们在那高高的卧榻周围忙碌几分钟以后，就各自散开了。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜碰了碰皮埃尔的手，对他说：“venez．”①皮埃尔和她一道走到卧榻前面，病人安放在卧榻之上，那姿态逍遥自在，这显然是和方才施圣礼有关系。他躺着，头部高高地靠在睡枕上，掌心向下，两手平衡地搁在绿色丝绸被子上。当皮埃尔走到近旁，伯爵的目光直直地射在他身上，但是没有人能够了解他那目光表露什么意义，也许它根本没有含义，只是因为他还有一双眼睛，他就要朝个方向随便看看罢了，也许这目光表明了太多的心事。皮埃尔停步了，不知道该做什么好，他用疑问的目光看了看他的带路人安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜赶快使个眼色向他示意，同时用手指着病人的手，用嘴唇向它送了个飞吻。皮埃尔极力地把颈子伸长，以免碰到伯爵的丝绸被子，又用嘴唇吻吻他那骨胳大的肥厚的手，履行了她的忠告。无论是伯爵的手，还是他脸上的筋肉都不会颤动了。皮埃尔又疑问地望了望安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜，向她发问，他现在该做什么事。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜向他使个眼色，心中意指着卧榻旁边的安乐椅。皮埃尔在安乐椅上温顺地坐下来，继续用目光询问，他做得是否恰到好处。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜点点头，表示称赞。皮埃尔又做出一副埃及雕像那种恰如其分的稚气的姿势，显然，他因为自己那粗笨肥大的身体占据太大的空间而倍觉遗憾，才煞费苦心尽量使自己缩得小一点。他两眼望着伯爵。伯爵还在端详着皮埃尔站立时他脸部露出的地方。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜的面部表情说明了，她意识到父子最后一次相会的时刻是何等令人感动。这次相会持续了两分钟，皮埃尔心里觉得这两分钟好像一小时似的。伯爵脸上的大块肌肉和皱纹突然间颤抖起来，抖得越来越厉害，他的美丽的嘴扭歪了（这时皮埃尔才明白他父亲濒临死亡了），从那扭歪的嘴里发出模糊不清的嘶哑的声音。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜极力地看着病人的眼睛，力图猜中他想要什么东西，她时而用手指着皮埃尔，时而指着饮料，时而带着疑问的语调轻声地叫出瓦西里公爵的名字，时而用手指着伯爵的被子。病人的眼睛和脸部流露出已无耐性的样子。他极力凝视一直站在床头的仆人。

①法语：我们走吧。


“老爷想把身子转向另一侧啦，”仆役轻声地说道，他站了起来，让伯爵把脸部向墙，将那沉重的身躯侧向另一边。

皮埃尔站立起来，帮助这个仆人。

当众人使伯爵翻过身去的时候，他的一只手软弱无力地向后垂下，他用力地想把自己的这只手拿过去，但是无能为力，白费劲。伯爵是否已经发觉，皮埃尔在用那可怖的目光望着这只感觉迟钝的手，也许还有什么别的思绪在这生命垂危的脑海中闪现，但他望了一下自己那只不听使唤的手，望了一下皮埃尔脸上流露的可怖的表情，又望了一下自己的手，那脸上终于露出了一种和他的仪表不能并容的万分痛苦的微笑，仿佛在讥讽他自己的虚弱无力。皮埃尔望见这种微笑，胸中忽然不寒而栗，鼻子感到刺痛，一汪泪水使他的视线模糊了。病人面向墙壁，被翻过身去。他叹了口气。

“Ilestassoupi．”①安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜看见走来接班的公爵小姐，说道，“Allons。”②

皮埃尔走出去了。

CHAPTER XXI

Chinese


THERE WAS by now no one in the reception-room except Prince Vassily and the eldest princess, who were in eager conversation together, sitting under the portrait of Catherine. They were mute at once on seeing Pierre and his companion, and the princess concealed something as Pierre fancied and murmured: “I can't stand the sight of that woman.”

“Katish has had tea served in the little drawing-room,” Prince Vassily said to Anna Mihalovna. “Go, my poor Anna Mihalovna, take something or you will not hold out.”

To Pierre he said nothing; he simply pressed his arm sympathetically. Pierre and Anna Mihalovna went on into the little drawing-room.

“There is nothing so reviving as a cup of this excellent Russian tea, after a sleepless night,” said Lorrain with an air of restrained briskness, sipping it out of a delicate china cup without a handle, as he stood in the little circular drawing-room close to a table laid with tea-things and cold supper-dishes. All who were in Count Bezuhov's house on that night had, with a view to fortifying themselves, gathered around the table. Pierre remembered well that little circular drawing-room with its mirrors and little tables. When there had been balls in the count's house, Pierre, who could not dance, had liked sitting in that little room full of mirrors, watching the ladies in ball-dresses with pearls and diamonds on their bare shoulders, as they crossed that room and looked at themselves in the brightly lighted mirrors that repeated their reflections several times. Now the same room was dimly lighted with two candles, and in the middle of the night the tea-set and supper-dishes stood in disorder on one of the little tables, and heterogeneous, plainly dressed persons were sitting at it, whispering together, and showing in every word that no one could forget what was passing at that moment and what was still to come in the bedroom. Pierre did not eat anything, though he felt very much inclined to. He looked round inquiringly towards his monitress, and perceived that she had gone out again on tiptoe into the reception-room where Prince Vassily had remained with the eldest princess. Pierre supposed that this too was an inevitable part of the proceedings, and, after a little delay, he followed her. Anna Mihalovna was standing beside the princess, and they were both talking at once in excited tones.

“Allow me, madam, to know what is and what is not to be done,” said the princess, who was apparently in the same exasperated temper as she had been when she slammed the door of her room.

“But, dear princess,” Anna Mihalovna was saying mildly and persuasively, blocking up the way towards the bedroom and not letting the princess pass. “Would that not be too great a tax on poor uncle at such a moment, when he needs repose? At such moments to talk of worldly matters when his soul is already prepared …”

Prince Vassily was sitting in a low chair in his habitual attitude, with one leg crossed high above the other. His cheeks were twitching violently, and when they relaxed, they looked heavier below; but he wore the air of a man little interested in the two ladies' discussion.

“No, my dear Anna Mihalovna, let Katish act on her own discretion. You know how the count loves her.”

“I don't even know what is in this document,” said the princess, addressing Prince Vassily, and pointing to the inlaid portfolio which she held in her hand. “All I know is that the real will is in the bureau, and this is a paper that has been forgotten. …”

She tried to get round Anna Mihalovna, but the latter, with another little skip, barred her way again.

“I know, dear, sweet princess,” said Anna Mihalovna, taking hold of the portfolio, and so firmly that it was clear she would not readily let go of it again. “Dear princess, I beg you, I beseech you, spare him. I entreat you.”

The princess did not speak. All that was heard was the sound of a scuffle over the portfolio. There could be no doubt that if she were to speak, she would say nothing complimentary to Anna Mihalovna. The latter kept a tight grip, but in spite of that her voice retained all its sweet gravity and softness.

Pierre, come here, my dear boy. He will not be one too many, I should imagine, in a family council; eh, prince?”

“Why don't you speak, mon cousin?” the princess shrieked all of a sudden, so loudly that they heard her voice, and were alarmed by it in the drawing-room. “Why don't you speak when here a meddling outsider takes upon herself to interfere, and make a scene on the very threshold of a dying man's room? Scheming creature,” she muttered viciously, and tugged at the portfolio with all her might, but Anna Mihalovna took a few steps forward so as not to lose her grasp of it and changed hands.

“Ah,” said Prince Vassily, in reproachful wonder. He got up. “It is ridiculous. Come, let go. I tell you.” The princess let go.

“And you.”

Anna Mihalovna did not heed him.

“Let go, I tell you. I will take it all upon myself. I will go and ask him. I … you let it alone.”

“But, prince,” said Anna Mihalovna, “after this solemn sacrament, let him have a moment's peace. Here, Pierre, tell me your opinion,” she turned to the young man, who going up to them was staring in surprise at the exasperated face of the princess, which had thrown off all appearance of decorum, and the twitching cheeks of Prince Vassily.

“Remember that you will have to answer for all the consequences,” said Prince Vassily sternly; “you don't know what you are doing.”

“Infamous woman,” shrieked the princess, suddenly pouncing on Anna Mihalovna and tearing the portfolio from her. Prince Vassily bowed his head and flung up his hands.

At that instant the door, the dreadful door at which Pierre had gazed so long, and which had opened so softly, was flung rapidly, noisily open, banging against the wall, and the second princess ran out wringing her hands.

“What are you about?” she said, in despair. “He is passing away, and you leave me alone.”

The eldest princess dropped the portfolio. Swiftly Anna Mihalovna stooped and, snatching up the object of dispute, ran into the bedroom. The eldest princess and Prince Vassily recovering themselves followed her. A few minutes later the eldest princess came out again with a pale, dry face, biting her underlip. At the sight of Pierre her face expressed irrepressible hatred.

“Yes, now you can give yourself airs,” she said, “you have got what you wanted.” And breaking into sobs, she hid her face in her handkerchief and ran out of the room.

The next to emerge was Prince Vassily. He staggered to the sofa, on which Pierre was sitting, and sank on to it, covering his eyes with his hand. Pierre noticed that he was pale, and that his lower jaw was quivering and working as though in ague.

“Ah, my dear boy,” he said, taking Pierre by the elbow—and there was a sincerity and a weakness in his voice that Pierre had never observed in him before—“what sins, what frauds we commit, and all for what? I'm over fifty, my dear boy. … I too. … It all ends in death, all. Death is awful.” He burst into tears.

Anna Mihalovna was the last to come out. She approached Pierre with soft, deliberate steps. “Pierre,” she said. Pierre looked inquiringly at her. She kissed the young man on the forehead, wetting him with her tears. She did not speak for a while.

“He is no more. …”

Pierre gazed at her over his spectacles.

“Come. I will take you back. Try to cry. Nothing relieves like tears.”

She led him into the dark drawing-room, and Pierre was glad that no one could see his face. Anna Mihalovna left him, and when she came back he was fast asleep with his arm under his head.

The next morning Anna Mihalovna said to Pierre: “Yes, my dear boy, it is a great loss for us all. I do not speak of you. But God will uphold you; you are young, and now you are at the head of an immense fortune, I hope. The will has not been opened yet. I know you well enough to know that this will not turn your head, but it will impose duties upon you and you must be a man.”

Pierre did not speak.

“Perhaps, later, I may tell you, my dear boy, that if I had not been there God knows what would have happened. You know, my uncle promised me, only the day before yesterday, not to forget Boris. But he had no time. I hope, dear friend, that you will fulfil your father's desire.”

Pierre did not understand a word, and colouring shyly, looked dumbly at Anna Mihalovna. After talking to him, Anna Mihalovna drove to the Rostovs', and went to bed. On waking in the morning, she told the Rostovs and all her acquaintances the details of Count Bezuhov's death. She said that the count had died, as she would wish to die herself, that his end had been not simply touching, but edifying; that the last interview of the father and son had been so touching that she could not recall it without tears; and that she did not know which had behaved more nobly in those terrible moments: the father, who had remembered everything and every one so well at the last, and had said such moving words to his son; or Pierre, whom it was heartbreaking to see, so utterly crushed was he, though he yet tried to conceal his grief, so as not to distress his dying father. “It is painful, but it does one good; it uplifts the soul to see such men as the old count and his worthy son,” she said. She told them about the action of the princess and Prince Vassily too, but in great secrecy, in whispers, and with disapproval.

第二十一章

英文 


除开瓦西里公爵和公爵的大小姐而外，接待室里没有其他人，他们二人坐在叶卡捷琳娜画像下面，正在兴致勃勃地谈论什么事。他们一望见皮埃尔和他的带路人，就默不作声了。

皮埃尔仿佛看见公爵的大小姐把一样东西藏起来，并且轻言细语地说道：

“我不能跟这个女人见面。”

“Caticheafaitdonnerduthédanslepetitesalon，”瓦西里公爵对安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜说道，“Allez，mapauvre安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜，prenezquequeclhose，autrementvousnesuffirezpas．”③

他对皮埃尔什么话也没有说，只是亲切地握握他的手。皮埃尔和安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜向petitAalon④走去。

①法语：他昏迷不醒了。

②法语：我们走吧。

③法语：卡季什已经吩咐人将茶端进小客厅去了。可怜的安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜，您最好去提提精神，否则您会没有力气的。

④法语：小客厅。


“Iln'yarienquirestaure，commeunetassedecetexcelBlentthérusseaprèsunenuitblanche，”①罗兰在圆形小客厅的桌子前面站着，这张桌上放着茶具和晚餐的冷菜，他端着很精致的不带把的中国茶碗，一口一口地呷着茶，流露着抑制兴奋的神色说道。这天晚上，那些在别祖霍夫伯爵家里的人，为了要提提精神，都聚集在桌子周围。皮埃尔很清楚地记得这间嵌有几面镜子和摆放几张茶几的圆形小客厅。伯爵家里举行舞会时，皮埃尔不会跳舞，只喜欢坐在这间嵌有镜子的小客厅里，从一旁观看那些穿着舞衣、裸露的肩上戴有钻石和珍珠项链的女士们穿过这间客厅时照照镜子的情景，几面闪闪发亮的镜子一连几次反映出她们的身影。现在这个房间只点着两根光线暗淡的蜡烛，在这深夜里，一张小茶几上乱七八糟地放着茶具和盘子，穿着得不太雅致的五颜六色的人们坐在这个房间里窃窃私语，言语行动都表示谁也不会忘记现在发生的事情和可能发生的事情。皮埃尔没有去吃东西，尽管他很想吃东西。他带着疑问的目光望望他的带路人，看见她踮起脚尖又走到接待室，瓦西里公爵和公爵的大小姐还呆在那里，没有走出去。皮埃尔认为有必要这样行事，他停了一会，便跟在她后面去了。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜站在公爵的大小姐近旁，二人同时心情激动地轻声说话。

①法语：在不眠之夜以后，再没有什么比一碗十分可口的俄国茶更能恢复精力的了。


“公爵夫人，请您让我知道，什么是需要的，什么是不需要的。”公爵的大小姐说，她那激动的心情显然跟她砰然一声关上房门时的心情一样。

“可是，亲爱的公爵小姐，”安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜拦住通往寝室的路，不让公爵小姐走过去，她温和而恳切地说，“在可怜的叔叔需要休息的时刻，这样做不会使他太难受么？在他已经有了精神准备的时刻，竟然谈论世俗的事情……”

瓦西里公爵坐在安乐椅上，一条腿高高地架在另一条腿上，现出十分亲热的姿态。他的腮帮子深陷，下部看起来更为肥厚，跳动得很厉害，但是他摆出一副不太关心两个女士谈论的样子。

“Voyons，mabonne，安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜，laissezfaireCatiche①，您知道，伯爵多么喜爱她啊。”

“这份文件中包含有什么，我真的不知道，”公爵小姐把脸转向瓦西里公爵，并用手指着她拿在手里的镶花皮包，说道，“我只知道他的真遗嘱搁在旧式写字台里，而这是一份被遗忘的文件……”

她想从安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜身边绕过去，但安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜跳到她跟前，拦住她的去路。

“亲爱的、慈善的公爵小姐，我知道，”安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜说道，用手抓着皮包，抓得很紧，看起来她不会很快松手的，“亲爱的公爵小姐，我求您，我央求您，怜悯怜悯他。

Jevousenconjure……”②

①法语：不过，我亲爱的安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜，让卡季什去做她知道做的事吧。

②法语：我央求您。


公爵的大小姐默不作声。只传来用力抢夺皮包的响声。由此可见，如果她开口说话，她也不会说出什么称赞安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜的话来。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜抓得很紧，但是她的声音慢吞吞的，还是保持着谄媚、委婉的意味。

“皮埃尔，我的朋友，到这里来。我想，他在亲属商议事情时不是多馀的。公爵，不是这样吗？”

“我的表兄，干嘛不作声？”公爵的大小姐突然叫喊起来，喊声很大，客厅里也能听见，可把大家吓坏了，“天晓得有个什么人胆敢在这里干涉别人的事，在临近死亡的人家里大吵大闹，您干嘛在这个时候一声不吭？一个施耍阴谋诡计的女人！”她凶恶地轻声说道，使尽全身力气去拖皮包，但是安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜向前走了几步，不想放开那个皮包，换一只手把它抓住了。

“哎呀！”瓦西里公爵露出责备和惊讶的神态说，他站起身来。“C'estridicule，voyons①，放开吧，我说给您听吧。”

公爵的大小姐放开手了。

“您也放开手！”

安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜没有听从他。

“放开，我说给您听吧。我对一切负责。我去问他。我……

您别这样了。”

“Mais，monnpuince，”②安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜说道，“在举行这样盛大的圣礼以后，让他安静片刻吧。皮埃尔，您把您的意见说出来，”她把脸转向年轻人说道；皮埃尔走到他们近侧，诧异地打量着公爵小姐那副凶狠的，丧失体统的面孔和瓦西里公爵的不停地颤动的两颊。

①法语：这真可笑。得啦吧。

②法语：但是，我的公爵。


“您要记得，您要对一切后果负责，”瓦西里公爵严肃地说，“您不知道您在搞什么名堂。”

“讨厌的女人！”公爵小姐嚷道，忽然向安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜扑了过去，夺取那皮包。

瓦西里公爵低下头来，把两手一摊。

这时分，那扇房门——素来都是轻轻地打开的令人可怖的房门，皮埃尔久久地望着，房门忽然砰地一声被推开了，撞到墙壁上，公爵的二小姐从那里跑出来，把两手举起轻轻一拍。

“你们在做什么事？”她无所顾忌地说道，“Ils'envaetvousmelaissezseule．”①

①法语：他快要死了，可你们把我一个人留在那里。


公爵的大小姐丢掉了皮包。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜飞快弯下腰去，顺手拾起那件引起争端的东西，就到寝室里去了。公爵的大小姐和瓦西里公爵在清醒以后，也跟在她后面走去。过了几分钟，公爵的大小姐头一个从那里走出来，面色惨白，紧闭着下嘴唇。她看见皮埃尔，脸上露出了难以抑制的愤恨。

“对了，您现在高兴了，”她说道，“这是您所期待的。”

她于是嚎啕大哭起来，用手绢蒙住脸，从房里跑出去了。

瓦西里公爵跟在公爵的大小姐后面走出去。他步履踉跄地走到皮埃尔坐的长沙发前面，用一只手蒙住眼睛，跌倒在长沙发上。皮埃尔发现他脸色苍白，下颔跳动着，颤栗着，像因冷热病发作而打战似的。

“哎呀，我的朋友！”他一把抓住皮埃尔的胳膊肘，说道，嗓音里带有一种诚实的软弱的意味，这是皮埃尔过去从未发觉到的，“我们造了多少孽，我们欺骗多少人，这一切为了什么？我的朋友，我已经五十多岁了……要知道，我……人一死，什么都完了，都完了。死是非常可怕的。”他大哭起来。

安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜最后一人走出来。她用徐缓的脚步走到皮埃尔面前。

“皮埃尔！……”她说道。

皮埃尔以疑问的目光望着她。她吻吻年轻人的前额，眼泪把它沾湿了。她沉默了片刻。

“Iln'estplus…”①

皮埃尔透过眼镜望着她。

“Allons，jevousreconduiraiTachezdepleurer．Riennesoulage，commeleslarmes．”②

①法语：他不在世了。

②法语：我们走吧，我送您去。想法子哭吧，没有什么比眼泪更能使人减轻痛苦。


她把他带到昏暗的客厅里，皮埃尔心里很高兴的是，那里没有人看见他的面孔。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜从他身旁走开了。当她回来时，他把一只手搁在脑底下酣睡了。

翌日清晨，安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜对皮埃尔说：

“Oui，moncher，c'estunegrandepertepournoustous，Jeneparlepasdevous．Maisdieuvoussoutiendra，vousêtesjeuneetvousvoilàalateted'uneimmensefortune，jel'espère，Letestanentn'apasétéencoreouvert，Jevousconnaisassezpoursavoirquecelanevoustounrnerapaslatête，maiscelavousim－posedesdevoirs，etilfautêtre

hommê．”①

皮埃尔沉默不言。

“Peut—êtreplustardjevousdirai，moncher，quesijen'avaispasetela，Dieusaitcequiseraitarrive．Voussavezmononcleavant—hierencoremepromettaitdenepasoubliBerBoris．Maisiln'apaseuletemps．J'espère，moncherami，quevousremplirezledésirdevotrepère．”②

①法语：对，我的朋友，即使不提及您，这对于我们所有的人也是极大的损失。但是上帝保佑您，您很年轻，我希望您如今是一大笔财产的拥有者。遗嘱还没有拆开来，对于您的情形我相当熟悉，坚信这不会使您冲昏头脑。但是这要您承担义务，您要做个大丈夫。

②法语：以后我也许会说给您听的，如果我不在那里，天知道会发生什么事。您知道，叔父前天答应我不要不顾鲍里斯，但是他来不及了。我的朋友，我希望您能履行父亲的意愿。


皮埃尔什么也不明白，他沉默不言，羞涩地涨红着脸，抬起眼睛望着名叫安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜的公爵夫人。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜和皮埃尔谈了几句话，便离开他，前往罗斯托夫家憩宿。翌日清晨醒来，她向罗斯托夫家里人和各个熟人叙述了别祖霍夫伯爵辞世的详细情节。她说，伯爵正如她意料中的情景那样去世了，他的死不仅颇为感人，而且可资垂训。父子最后一次的会面竟如此感人，以致一想起此事她就会痛哭流涕，她不晓得在这令人可怖的时刻，父子二人中谁的行为表现更为出色，是在临终的时候对所有的事情和所有的人一一回顾、并对儿子道出感人的话的父亲呢，还是悲恸欲绝、为使死在旦夕的父亲不致于难受而隐藏自己内心的忧愁的、令人目睹而怜惜的皮埃尔。“C'estpenible，maiscelafaitdu

bien：caelèvel'amedevoirdeshommes，commelevieuxcomteetsondignefils。”①她说道。她也秘而不宣地、低声地谈到公爵的大小姐和瓦西里公爵的行为，但却不予以赞扬。

①法语：这是令人难受的，却是富有教育意义的，当你看见老伯爵和他的当之无愧的儿子时，灵魂就变得高尚了。

CHAPTER XXII

Chinese


AT BLEAK HILLS, the estate of Prince Nikolay Andreivitch Bolkonsky, the arrival of young Prince Andrey and his wife was daily expected. But this expectation did not disturb the regular routine in which life moved in the old prince's household. Prince Nikolay Andreivitch, once a commander-in-chief, known in the fashionable world by the nickname of “the Prussian king,” had been exiled to his estate in the reign of Paul, and had remained at Bleak Hills ever since with his daughter, Princess Marya, and her companion, Mademoiselle Bourienne. Even in the new reign, though he had received permission to return to the capital, he had never left his home in the country, saying that if any one wanted to see him, he could travel the hundred and fifty versts from Moscow to Bleak Hills, and, for his part, he wanted nobody and nothing. He used to maintain that human vices all sprang from only two sources—idleness and superstition, and that there were but two virtues—energy and intelligence. He had himself undertaken the education of his daughter; and to develop in her these important qualities, he continued giving her lessons in algebra and geometry up to her twentieth year, and mapped out her whole life in uninterrupted occupation. He was himself always occupied in writing his memoirs, working out problems in higher mathematics, turning snuff-boxes on his lathe, working in his garden, or looking after the erection of farm buildings which were always being built on his estate. Since the great thing for enabling one to get through work is regularity, he had carried regularity in his manner of life to the highest point of exactitude. His meals were served in a fixed and invariable manner, and not only at a certain hour, but at a certain minute. With those about him, from his daughter to his servants, the count was sharp and invariably exacting, and so, without being cruel, he inspired a degree of respect and awe that the most cruel man could not readily have commanded. In spite of the fact that he was now on the retired list, and had no influence whatever in political circles, every high official in the province in which was the prince's estate felt obliged to call upon him, and had, just like the architect, the gardener, or Princess Marya, to wait till the regular hour at which the prince always made his appearance in the lofty waiting-room. And every one in the waiting-room felt the same veneration, and even awe, when the immensely high door of the study opened and showed the small figure of the old man in a powdered wig, with his little withered hands and grey, overhanging eyebrows, that, at times when he scowled, hid the gleam in his shrewd, youthful-looking eyes.

On the day that the young people were expected to arrive, Princess Marya went as usual at the fixed hour in the morning into the waiting-room to say good-morning to her father, and with dread in her heart crossed herself and mentally repeated a prayer. Every day she went in to her father in the same way, and every day she prayed that her interview with her father might pass off well that day. The old man-servant, wearing powder, softly got up from his seat in the waiting-room and whispered: “Walk in.”

Through the door came the regular sounds of the lathe. The princess kept timidly hold of the door, which opened smoothly and easily, and stood still in the doorway. The prince was working at his lathe, and glancing round, he went on with what he was doing.

The immense room was filled with things obviously in constant use. The large table, on which lay books and plans, the high bookcases with keys in the glass-covered doors, the high table for the prince to write at, standing up, with an open manuscript-book upon it, the carpenter's lathe, with tools ranged about it and shavings scattered around, all suggested continual, varied, and orderly activity. The movements of the prince's small foot in its Tatar, silver-embroidered boot, the firm pressure of his sinewy, lean hand, showed the strength of vigorous old age still strong-willed and wiry. After making a few more turns, he took his foot from the pedal of the lathe, wiped the plane, dropped it into a leather pouch attached to the lathe, and going up to the table called his daughter. He never gave the usual blessing to his children; he simply offered her his scrubby, not yet shaved cheek, and said sternly and yet at the same time with intense tenderness, as he looked her over: “Quite well? … All right, then, sit down!” He took a geometry exercise-book written by his own hand, and drew his chair up with his leg.

“For to-morrow,” he said quickly, turning to the page and marking it from one paragraph to the next with his rough nail. The princess bent over the exercise-book. “Stop, there's a letter for you,” the old man said suddenly, pulling out of a pocket hanging over the table an envelope addressed in a feminine hand, and putting it on the table.

The princess's face coloured red in patches at the sight of the letter. She took it hurriedly and bent over it.

“From Heloise?” asked the prince, showing his still strong, yellow teeth in a cold smile.

“Yes, from Julie,” said the princess, glancing timidly at him, and timidly smiling.

“Two more letters I'll let pass, but the third I shall read,” said the prince severely. “I'm afraid you write a lot of nonsense. The third I shall read.”

“Read this one, father,” answered the princess, colouring still more and handing him the letter.

“The third, I said the third,” the prince cried shortly; pushing away the letter and leaning his elbow on the table, he drew up to him the book with the figures of geometry in it.

“Now, madam,” began the old man, bending over the book close to his daughter, and laying one arm on the back of the chair she was sitting on, so that the princess felt herself surrounded on all sides by the peculiar acrid smell of old age and tobacco, which she had so long associated with her father. “Come, madam, these triangles are equal: kindly look; the angle A B C. …”

The princess glanced in a scared way at her father's eyes gleaming close beside her. The red patches overspread her whole face, and it was evident that she did not understand a word, and was so frightened that terror prevented her from understanding all the subsequent explanations her father offered her, however clear they might be. Whether it was the teacher's fault or the pupil's, every day the same scene was repeated. The princess's eyes grew dim; she could see and hear nothing; she could feel nothing but the dry face of her stern father near her, his breath and the smell of him, and could think of nothing but how to escape as soon as possible from the study and to make out the problem in freedom in her room. The old man lost his temper; with a loud, grating noise he pushed back and drew up again the chair he was sitting on, made an effort to control himself, not to fly into a rage, and almost every time did fly into a rage, and scold, and sometimes flung the book away.

The princess answered a question wrong.

“Well, you are too stupid!” cried the prince, pushing away the book, and turning sharply away. But he got up immediately, walked up and down, laid his hand on the princess's hair, and sat down again. He drew himself up to the table and continued his explanations. “This won't do; it won't do,” he said, when Princess Marya, taking the exercise-book with the lesson set her, and shutting it, was about to leave the room: “mathematics is a grand subject, madam. And to have you like the common run of our silly misses is what I don't want at all. Patience, and you'll get to like it.” He patted her on the cheek. “It will drive all the nonsense out of your head.” She would have gone; he stopped her with a gesture, and took a new, uncut book from the high table.

“Here's a book, too, your Heloise sends you some sort of Key to the Mystery. Religious. But I don't interfere with any one's belief…. I have looked at it. Take it. Come, run along, run along.”

He patted her on the shoulder, and himself closed the door after her.

Princess Marya went back to her own room with that dejected, scared expression that rarely left her, and made her plain, sickly face even plainer. She sat down at her writing-table, which was dotted with miniature portraits, and strewn with books and manuscripts. The princess was as untidy as her father was tidy. She put down the geometry exercise-book and impatiently opened the letter. The letter was from the princess's dearest friend from childhood; this friend was none other than Julie Karagin, who had been at the Rostovs' name-day party.

Julie wrote in French:

“DEAR AND EXCELLENT FRIEND,—What a terrible and frightful thing is absence! I say to myself that half of my existence and of my happiness is in you, that notwithstanding the distance that separates us, our hearts are united by invisible bonds; yet mine rebels against destiny, and in spite of the pleasures and distractions around me, I cannot overcome a certain hidden sadness which I feel in the bottom of my heart since our separation. Why are we not together as we were this summer in your great study, on the blue sofa, the confidential sofa? Why can I not, as I did three months ago, draw new moral strength from that gentle, calm, penetrating look of yours, a look that I loved so well and that I seem to see before me as I write to you.”

When she reached this passage, Princess Marya sighed and looked round into the pier-glass that stood on her right. The glass reflected a feeble, ungraceful figure and a thin face. The eyes, always melancholy, were looking just now with a particularly hopeless expression at herself in the looking-glass. She flatters me, thought the princess, and she turned away and went on reading. But Julie did not flatter her friend: the princess's eyes—large, deep, and luminous (rays of warm light seemed at times to radiate in streams from them), were really so fine, that very often in spite of the plainness of the whole face her eyes were more attractive than beauty. But the princess had never seen the beautiful expression of her eyes; the expression that came into them when she was not thinking of herself. As is the case with every one, her face assumed an affected, unnatural, ugly expression as soon as she looked in the looking-glass.

She went on reading:

“All Moscow talks of nothing but war. One of my two brothers is already abroad, the other is with the Guards, who are starting on the march to the frontier. Our dear Emperor has left Petersburg, and, people declare, intends to expose his precious existence to the risks of war. God grant that the Corsican monster who is destroying the peace of Europe may be brought low by the angel whom the Almighty in His mercy has given us as sovereign. Without speaking of my brothers, this war has deprived me of one of my heart's dearest alliances. I mean the young Nicholas Rostov, whose enthusiasm could not endure inaction, and who has left the university to go and join the army. Well, dear Marie, I will own to you that, in spite of his extreme youth, his departure for the army has been a great grief to me. This young man, of whom I spoke to you in the summer, has so much nobility, so much real youthfulness, rarely to be met with in our age, among our old men of twenty. Above all, he has so much openness and so much heart. He is so pure and poetic that my acquaintance with him, though so transient, has been one of the dearest joys known by my poor heart, which has already had so much suffering. Some day I will tell you about our farewells and all that we said to each other as we parted. As yet, all that is too fresh. Ah, dear friend, you are fortunate in not knowing these joys and these pains which are so poignant. You are fortunate, because the latter are generally stronger! I know very well that Count Nicholas is too young ever to become more to me than a friend, but this sweet friendship, this poetic and pure intimacy have fulfilled a need of my heart. No more of this. The great news of the day, with which all Moscow is taken up, is the death of old Count Bezuhov, and his inheritance. Fancy, the three princesses have hardly got anything, Prince Vassily nothing, and everything has been left to M. Pierre, who has been acknowledged as a legitimate son into the bargain, so that he is Count Bezuhov and has the finest fortune in Russia. People say that Prince Vassily behaved very badly in all these matters and that he has gone back to Petersburg quite cast down.

“I own that I understand very little about all these details of legacies and wills; what I know is that since the young man whom we all used to know as plain M. Pierre has become Count Bezuhov and owner of one of the largest fortunes in Russia, I am much amused to observe the change in the tone and the manners of mammas burdened with marriageable daughters and of those young ladies themselves, towards that individual— who I may say in passing has always seemed to me a poor creature. As people have amused themselves for the last two years in giving me husbands whom I don't know, the matrimonial gossip of Moscow generally makes me Countess Bezuhov. But you, I am sure, feel that I have no desire to become so. About marriage, by the by, do you know that the universal aunt, Anna Mihalovna, has confided to me, under the seal of the deepest secrecy, a marriage scheme for you. It is no one more or less than Prince Vassily's son, Anatole, whom they want to settle by marrying him to some one rich and distinguished, and the choice of his relations has fallen on you. I don't know what view you will take of the matter, but I thought it my duty to let you know beforehand. He is said to be very handsome and very wild; that is all I have been able to find out about him.

“But enough of gossip. I am finishing my second sheet and mamma is sending for me to go and dine with the Apraxins. Read the mystical book which I send you, and which is the rage here. Though there are things in this book, difficult for our human conceptions to attain to, it is an admirable book, and reading it calms and elevates the soul. Farewell. My respects to your father and my compliments to Mlle. Bourienne. I embrace you as I love you.

JULIE.

“P.S.—Let me hear news of your brother and his charming little wife.”

Princess Marya thought a minute, smiling dreamily (her face, lighted up by her luminous eyes, was completely transformed). Suddenly getting up, she crossed over to the table, treading heavily. She got out a sheet of paper and her hand began rapidly moving over it. She wrote the following answer:

“DEAR AND EXCELLENT FRIEND,—Your letter of the 13th gave me great delight. So you still love me, my poetic Julie. So, absence, which you so bitterly denounce, has not had its usual effect upon you. You complain of absence—what might I say, if I ventured to complain, I, deprived of all who are dear to me? Ah, if we had not religion to console us, life would be very sad. Why do you suppose that I should look severe when you tell me of your affection for that young man? In such matters I am hard upon no one but myself. I understand such feelings in other people, and if, never having felt thern, I cannot express approval, I do not condemn them. Only it seems to me that Christian love, the love of our neighbour, the love of our enemies, is more meritorious, sweeter and more beautiful than those feelings that may be inspired in a poetic and loving young girl like you, by the fine eyes of a young man.

“The news of Count Bezuhov's death reached us before your letter, and affected my father very much. He says that the count was the last representative but one of the great century and that it is his turn now; but that he will do his best to have his turn come as late as possible. May God save us from that terrible misfortune. I cannot agree with you about Pierre, whom I knew as a child. He always appeared to me to have an excellent heart, and that is the quality that I most esteem in people. As to his inheritance and Prince Vassily's behaviour about it, it is very sad for both. Ah, my dear friend, our divine Saviour's word, that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of Heaven is a terribly true saying; I pity Prince Vassily, and I am yet more sorry for Pierre. So young and burdened with this wealth, to what temptations he will be exposed! If I were asked what I wished most in the world, it would be to be poorer than the poorest beggar. A thousand thanks, dear friend, for the work you send me, and which is all the rage where you are. As, however, you tell me that amid many good things there are others to which our weak human understanding cannot attain, it seems to me rather useless to busy oneself in reading an unintelligible book, since for that very reason it cannot yield any profit. I have never been able to comprehend the passion which some people have for confusing their minds by giving themselves to the study of mystical books which only awaken their doubts, inflaming their imagination, and giving them a disposition to exaggeration altogether contrary to Christian simplicity. Let us read the Apostles and the Gospel. Do not let us seek to penetrate what is mysterious in these, for how can we dare presume, miserable sinners as we are, to enter into the terrible and sacred secrets of Providence, while we wear this carnal husk that raises an impenetrable veil between us and the Eternal? Let us rather confine ourselves to studying those sublime principles which our divine Saviour has left us as guides for our conduct here below; let us seek to conform ourselves to those and follow them; let us persuade ourselves that the less range we give to our weak human understanding, the more agreeable it will be to God, who rejects all knowledge that does not come from Him; that the less we seek to dive into that which He has pleased to hide from our knowledge the sooner will He discover it to us by means of His divine Spirit.

“My father has not spoken to me of the suitor, but has only told me that he has received a letter, and was expecting a visit from Prince Vassily. In regard to a marriage-scheme concerning myself, I will tell you, my dear and excellent friend, that to my mind marriage is a divine institution to which we must conform. However painful it may be to me, if the Alrnighty should ever impose upon me the duties of a wife and mother, I shall try to fulfil them as faithfully as I can without disquieting myself by examining my feelings in regard to him whom He may give me for a husband.

“I have received a letter from my brother, who announces his coming to Bleak Hills with his wife. It will be a pleasure of brief duration, since he is leaving us to take part in this unhappy war into which we have been drawn, God knows how and why. It is not only with you, in the centre of business and society, that people talk of nothing except war, for here also, amid those rustic labours and that calm of nature, which townspeople generally imagine in the country, rumours of war are heard and are felt painfully. My father talks of nothing but marches and counter-marches, things of which I understand nothing; and the day before yesterday, taking my usual walk in the village street, I witnessed a heartrending scene.… It was a convoy of recruits that had been enrolled in our district, and were being sent away to the army. You should have seen the state of the mothers, wives and children of the men who were going, and have heard the sobs on both sides. It seems as though humanity had forgotten the laws of its divine Saviour, Who preached love and the forgiveness of offences, and were making the greatest merit to consist in the art of killing one another.

“Adieu, dear and good friend: may our divine Saviour and His most Holy Mother keep you in their holy and powerful care.

MARIE.”

“Ah, you are sending off your letters, princess. I have already finished mine. I have written to my poor mother,” said Mademoiselle Bourienne quickly in her agreeable, juicy voice, with a roll of the r's. She came in, all smiles, bringing into the intense, melancholy, gloomy atmosphere of the Princess Marya an alien world of gay frivolity and self-satisfaction. “Princess, I must warn you,” she added, dropping her voice, “the prince has had an altercation,” she said, with a peculiar roll of the r, seeming to listen to herself with pleasure. “An altercation with Mihail Ivanov. He is in a very ill humour, very morose. Be prepared, you know.”

“Ah, chère amie,” answered Princess Marya, “I have begged you never to tell me beforehand in what humour I shall find my father. I do not permit myself to judge him and I would not have others do so.”

The princess glanced at her watch, and seeing that it was already five minutes later than the hour fixed for her practice on the clavichord, she went with a face of alarm into the divan-room. In accordance with the rules by which the day was mapped out, the prince rested from twelve to two, while the young princess practised on the clavichord.

第二十二章

英文 


在童山尼古拉·安德烈耶维奇·博尔孔斯基公爵的田庄里，大家每天都在等待年轻的安德烈公爵偕同夫人归来，但是期待没有打乱老公爵之家的严谨的生活秩序。在上流社会中浑名叫做leroidePrusse①的大将尼古拉·安德烈耶维奇公爵，当保罗皇帝在位时就被流放到农村，他和女儿——叫做玛丽亚的公爵小姐以及她的女伴布里安小姐，在童山过着深居简出的生活。新王朝执政时，虽然他已被允许进入都城，但他继续定居农村，从不外出，他说，如果有谁需要求他，那末他就得从莫斯科走一百五十俄里的路到童山来；而他对任何东西，对任何人都一无所求。他说，只有人才有两大罪恶的根源：无所事事和迷信；只有人才有两大崇高品德：活动和才智。他亲自培养自己的女儿，给她传授代数、几何课程，以便在她身上培养这两大品德；妥善地安排她的生活，要她不断地完成作业。他本人总是很忙，时而写回忆录，时而算高等数学题，时而在车床上车鼻烟壶，时而在花园里劳作和监督他田庄里未曾中断的建筑工程。因为活动的首要条件是秩序，所以在他的生活方式中程序已达到一丝不苟的程度。他依照一成不变的陈规出来用餐，总是在同一时辰，分秒不误。公爵对待周围的人，从他女儿到仆人，态度十分粗鲁，一向要求苛刻，所以，他纵然不算残忍，却常激起连最残忍的人也难以激起的一种对他的敬畏之感。他虽已退休赋闲，在国家事务中不发挥什么作用，但是公爵的田庄所隶属的那个省份的每个上任的省长都认为拜谒他是一种应尽的义务，而且亦如建筑师、园丁或者名叫玛丽亚的公爵小姐，在那宽大的堂倌休息间等候公爵于规定时刻出来会客。每当书斋那扇高大的门被推开，一个身材矮小的老人出来会客时，每个在堂倌休息间等候接见的人都会对他产生一种尊敬甚至畏惧之感，这个老人头戴扑粉的假发，露出一双肌肉萎缩的小手和两条垂下的灰白的眉毛，有时他皱起眉头，眉毛便挡住那双机灵的、焕发着青春之光的眼睛。

①法语：普鲁士国王。


年轻夫妇抵达的那天早上，同平素一样，名叫玛丽亚的公爵小姐在规定的时刻走进堂倌休息间叩请早安，她心惊胆战地画着十字，心中念着祷文。她每天走进休息间，每天都祈祷，希望这天的会见能平安无事地结束。

坐在休息间的那个头发上扑了粉的老仆人动作缓慢地站起来，轻言细语地禀告：“请。”

门后可以听见车床均匀地转动的响声。公爵小姐羞羞答答地拉了一下门，门很平稳地、轻易地被拉开了。她在门旁停步了。公爵在车床上干活，掉过头来望了望，又继续干他的活。

大书斋里堆满了各种东西，显然都是一些常用的东西。一张大桌子——桌子上摆着书本和图表，几个高大的玻璃书柜——钥匙插在柜门上，一张专供站着写字用的高台子——台子上摆着一本打开的练习本，一张车床——上面放着几件工具，四周撒满了刨屑，——这一切表明这里在进行经常性的、多种多样的、富有成效的活动。从他用以操作的那只穿着绣有银线的鞑靼式的皮靴的不大的脚来看，从青筋赤露、肌肉萎缩的手上磨出的硬皮来看，公爵还具有精神充沛的老人的百折不回的毅力和极大的耐力。他旋了几圈，便从车床踏板上把脚拿下来，揩干净凿头，把它丢进安在车床上的皮袋里。他向桌前走去，把女儿喊到身边来。他从来没有祝福自己的孩子，只是把他那当天还没有剃过的、胡子拉碴的面颊凑近他女儿，露出严肃的、温和而关怀的样子望望她，说道：

“你身体好吗？……喂，坐下来吧！”

他拿起他亲手写的几何学练习本，又用脚把安乐椅推了过来。

“是明天的啊！”他说道，很快找到了那一页，在这段和另一段的两头用硬指甲戳上了记号。

公爵小姐在摆着练习本的桌前弯下腰来。

“等一下，有封你的信。”老人从安在桌上的皮袋中取出女人手笔的信一封，扔在桌上。

公爵小姐看见信，立刻涨红了脸，她赶快拿起信，低垂着头去看。

“爱洛绮丝寄来的吗？”公爵问道，把他那坚固的、略微发黄的牙齿露出来，冷冷一笑。

“是的，是朱莉寄来的。”公爵小姐说道，羞答答地望着，羞答答地微笑。

“还有两封信我不看，而第三封我一定要看，”公爵严肃地说道，“我怕你们在写一大堆废话。第三封我一定要看。”

“monpeve①，就连这封信您也看吧。”公爵小姐答道，脸红得更加厉害，一面把信递给他。

①法语：爸爸。


“我已经说了，第三封，第三封。”公爵把信推开，迅速而果断地喊道。他用胳膊肘撑着桌子，把那绘有几何图形的练习本拖到身边来。

“喂，女士，”老头子开始说话，挨近女儿，朝着练习本弯下腰来，并把一只手搁在公爵小姐坐着的安乐椅的靠背上，公爵小姐觉得自己已被早就熟谙的父亲的烟草气味和老人的呛人的气味笼罩着。“喂，女士，这些三角形都是相似的：你看见，abc角……”

公爵小姐惊惶失措地望着父亲向她逼近的、闪闪发亮的眼睛，脸上泛起了红晕。可见，她什么都不懂得，心里很畏惧，虽然父亲的讲解清清楚楚，但是这种畏惧心毕竟会妨碍她弄懂父亲的进一步的讲解。教师有过错呢，还是女学生有过错呢，但是每天都重现着同样的情况。公爵小姐的眼睛模糊不清了，她视若无睹，听若罔闻，只觉得严厉的父亲那副干瘦的脸孔凑近她身边，她闻到他的气息和气味，只是想到尽快地离开书斋，好在自己房中无拘无束地弄懂习题。老头子发脾气了，轰隆一声把他自己坐的安乐椅从身边移开，又拖过来，他极力控制自己不动肝火，但是，差不多每次都火冒三丈，开口大骂，有时候竟把练习本扔到一边去。公爵小姐答错了。

“嘿，你真是个蠢货！”公爵嚷道，推开那本练习簿，飞快地转过脸去，但立刻站立起来，在房间里走走，用手碰碰公爵小姐的头发，又坐下来。

他将身子移近一点，继续讲解。

“公爵小姐，不行的，不行的，”当公爵小姐拿起继而又合上附有规定的家庭作业的练习本准备离开的时候，他说道，“数学是一件首要的大事，我的女士。我不希望你像我们那帮愚昧的小姐。习久相安嘛。”他抚摩一下女儿的面颊，“糊涂思想就会从脑海里跑出去。”

她想走出去，他用手势把她拦住了，从那高高的台子上取下一本尚未裁开的新书。

“还有你的爱洛绮丝给你寄来的一部《奥秘解答》。一本宗教范畴的书。我不过问任何人的宗教信仰……我浏览了一下。你拿去吧。得啦，你走吧，你走吧！”

他拍了一下她的肩膀，等她一出门，他就在她身后亲自把门关上了。

名叫玛丽亚的公爵小姐露出忧悒和惊恐的神色回到她自己的寝室。她常常带有这种神色，使她那副不俊俏的、病态的面孔变得更加难看了。她在写字台旁坐下，台子上放着微型的肖像，堆满了练习本和书本。公爵小姐缺乏条理，她父亲倒有条不紊。她搁下了几何学练习本，急躁地拆开那封信。信是公爵小姐童年时代的密友寄来的，这位密友就是出席过罗斯托夫家的命名日庆祝会的朱莉·卡拉金娜。

朱莉在信中写道：

亲爱的、珍贵的朋友，离别是一桩多么可怖、多么令人痛苦的事啊！我多少次反复地对我自己申说，我的生活和我的幸福的一半寄托在您身上，虽然我们天各一方，但是我们的心是用拉不断的纽带联系在一起的，我的心逆着天命，不听从它的摆布，虽然我置身于作乐和消遣的环境中，但是自从我们分离后，我就不能抑制住我心灵深处的隐忧。我们为什么不能像旧年夏天那样在您那宽大的书斋里聚首，一同坐在天蓝色的沙发上，“表白爱情”的沙发上呢？我为什么不能像三个月以前那样从您温顺、安详、敏锐的目光中，从我喜爱的目光中，从我给您写信时我依旧在我面前瞥见的目光中汲取新的精神力量呢？

名叫玛丽亚的公爵小姐念到这里叹了一口气，向嵌在右边墙上的穿衣镜照了照，镜子反映出一副不美丽的虚弱的身躯和那消瘦的面孔。一向显得怏怏不乐的眼睛现在特别失望地对着镜子看自己。“她谄媚我哩，”公爵小姐想了想。她把脸转过来继续念信。但是朱莉没有谄媚过朋友；诚然，公爵小姐那双深沉、炯炯发光的大眼睛（有时候仿佛发射出一束束温柔的光芒）十分美丽，尽管整个脸孔不好看，但是这双眼睛却常常变得分外迷人。公爵小姐从来没有见过自己眼睛的美丽动人的表情，即是当她不思忖自己时她的眼睛的表情。如同所有的人，她一照镜子，脸上就流露出生硬的不自然的很不好看的表情。她继续读信：

整个莫斯科只知道谈论战争。我的两个长兄，一个已经在国外，另一个跟随近卫军向边境进发。我们亲爱的皇帝已经放弃彼得堡，有人推测，皇帝意欲亲自督阵，使宝贵生命经受一次战争的风险。愿上帝保佑，万能的上帝大慈大悲，委派一位天使充当我们的君主，但愿他推翻这个煽动欧洲叛乱的科西嘉恶魔。姑且不提我的两个长兄，这次战争竟使我丧失一个最亲密的人。我说的是年轻的尼古拉·罗斯托夫，他充满热情，不甘于无所作为，离开了大学，投笔从戎。亲爱的玛丽，我向您坦白承认，虽说他十分年轻，但是他这次从军却使我感到极大的痛苦。旧年夏天我曾经向您谈到这个年轻人，他有这么许多高高的品德和真正的青春活力。当代，在我们这些二十岁的小老头子中间，这是不常见的啊！尤其是他待人真诚，心地善良。他非常纯洁，充满着理想。我和他的关系虽如昙花一现，但这却是我这个遭受过许多折磨的不幸的心灵尝到的极为甜蜜的欢乐之一。

总有一天我要和您谈谈我们离别的情形、临别时的

赠言。所有这一切未从记忆中磨灭……啊！亲爱的朋友，您十分幸福，您没有尝受过炽热的欢快和难忍的悲痛。您十分幸福，因为悲痛常比欣悦更为强烈。我心中十分明白，尼古拉伯爵太年轻了，诚了作个朋友外，我认为，不可能搭上什么别的关系。但这甜蜜的友情，这多么象有诗意、多么纯洁的关系，是我心灵之所需。这件事别再谈了。

吸引整个莫斯科的注意力的头条新闻，是老别祖霍

夫伯爵的去世和他的遗产问题。您想象一下，三个公爵小姐获得一小部分，瓦西里公爵没有捞到分文，而皮埃尔却是全部遗产的继承人，此外他被公认为法定的儿子，即为别祖霍夫伯爵和俄国最大财富的占有者。据说，在这件事的始末，瓦西里公爵扮演了极其卑鄙的角色，很难为情地往彼得堡去了。我向您承认，我不大懂得遗嘱方面的事情，我只晓得，自从这个人人认识、名叫皮埃尔的年轻人变成别祖霍夫伯爵和俄国最大财富的占有者以后，我觉得可笑的是，我看见那些有及笄女儿的母亲以及小姐本人，都在这位先生面前变了腔调。附带说一句，我总觉得皮埃尔是个十分渺小的人。

因为这两个年头大家都在给我物色未婚夫，认为这

是开心的事儿（对象多半是我不认识的人），所以莫斯科婚姻大事记，要使我成为叫做别祖霍娃的伯爵夫人。可是您明了，这件事完全不合乎我的心愿。不妨顺便提提婚事吧。您是否知道，公认的大娘安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜在不久以前极为秘密地把给您筹办婚事的意图告诉我了。对象正好是瓦西里公爵的儿子阿纳托利，他们正想给他娶一个有钱的、贵族门第的姑娘，您倒被他父母选中了。我不知道您对此事抱有什么看法。但我认为有责任提醒您哩。听说他相貌长得很漂亮，但却是个十足的浪子。关于他的情况，我打听到的只有这些，没有别的了。

够了，不必再扯了。我快写完第二页了，妈妈着人来叫我坐车到阿普拉克辛家去出席午宴。

请您读一读我给您寄上的这本神秘主义的书吧，在我们这儿，这本书大受欢迎。虽然我们普通人的贫乏的智慧很难弄懂这本书中的某些内容，但这却是一本出色的书。读这本书，能使灵魂升华，使灵魂得到安慰。再见吧。向您父亲致以敬意，并向布里安小姐问候。我衷心地拥抱您。

朱莉

再启：请将您长兄和他的可爱的妻子的消息告诉我。

公爵小姐想了想，沉思地微微一笑（与此同时，炯炯的目光照耀着她的脸庞，使它完全变了模样），她突然站立起来，曳着沉重的步子，向桌前走去。她取出一张纸，她的手开始迅速地在纸上移动。她的回信是这样写的：

亲爱的、珍贵的朋友，十三日的来信使我感到非常高兴。我的充满理想的朱莉，您仍旧爱我。可见您说得那么难堪的离别，在您身上没有产生常见的影响力。您埋怨别离，假如我敢于埋怨，那么我应当说句什么话——

我丧失了我所珍惜的一切人吗？咳，假若没有宗教的安慰，生活就会极其凄凉。当您谈起您爱慕一个年轻人时，您为什么认为我的目光是严峻的呢？在这方面，我只是严谨地对待自己罢了。我明了别人的这种感情，既然我从未体会这种感情，不能予以赞扬，那我也不加以斥责。

我只是觉得，基督的仁爱，对敌人的爱，较之年轻人的一双美丽的眼睛使您这样一个充满理想的具有爱心的年轻姑娘产生的那种感情更为可敬，更为可贵，更为高尚。

在尚未接到您的来信以前，别祖霍夫伯爵去世的消

息就已经传到我们这里了，我父亲闻讯悲恸万分。他说别祖霍夫伯爵是我们伟大时代剩下的倒数第二个代表人物。现在要轮到他头上了。他将尽力而为，使这一轮尽量晚点到来。愿上帝保佑，使我们免受这种不幸啊！

我是女孩的时候就认识皮埃尔，我不能赞同您对他

的意见。我似乎觉得，他的心肠永远都是善良的。这正是我所珍惜的人应有的品德。至于他所继承的遗产以及瓦西里公爵在这方面扮演的角色，这对他们两人都是很不光彩的。啊，亲爱的朋友，我们的救世的天主说了这么一句话：骆驼穿过针眼比富翁进入天国更容易，这句话很有道理！我怜悯瓦西里公爵，更加怜悯皮埃尔。他这么年少就要肩负一大笔财富的重担，他将要经受多少命运的考验啊！假若有人要问我，这尘世上我最希冀的是什么，我就会说，我希望做个比最贫穷的乞丐更穷的人。亲爱的朋友，我千万次地向您表示感谢，感谢您给我寄来的一本在你们那里引起纷纷议论的书。其实，您对我说，在这本书的一些可取的内容之间还夹有一些我们普通人的贫乏的智慧不能弄懂的内容，所以我觉得，谈奥妙难懂的东西是多余的，不会给人们带来半点裨益。我从来没法领悟某些人的酷嗜，他们酷嗜神秘主义的书籍，思绪给弄得十分紊乱，因为这些书会在他们头脑中引起疑惑，激起他们的臆想，铸成他们那种与基督的纯朴完全对立的夸张的性格。

我们莫如读一读《使徒行传》和《福音书》吧。我

们不要妄图识透书本上包含的神秘的内容，因为趁我们这些不幸的罪人还有肉体的躯壳支撑，它在我们和永恒之间树立着穿不透的隔幕的时候，末日尚未到来的时候，我们怎么能够认识上天的可怖和神圣的隐秘呢？我们莫如只研究救世的天主遗留给我们作为尘世指南的那些伟大的准则，我们要力求遵守这些准则，并要竭诚地相信，我们越少于纵欲，就越能取悦于上帝。上帝排斥一切不是由他传授的知识，我们越少去研究他不想要我们知道的隐秘，他就会越快地用那神明的智慧为人类拨开茅塞。

我父亲没有对我谈起未婚夫的事，他说的只是，他

收到一封信，正在等待瓦西里公爵的访问。我亲爱的、珍贵的朋友，至于筹划我的婚姻一事，我要说给您听，在我看来，结婚是定当服从的教规。我认为无论这是多么沉重，但若万能的上帝要我担负贤妻良母的天职，我将竭尽全力，忠诚地履行这一天职，而我对上帝赐予我的男人怀有什么感情，我却无心去研究。

我已经收到长兄的一封来信，他向我提到他将和妻子一道来童山。这次欢乐的团聚为时是不长的，因为他快要离开我们去参与战斗，天知道我们如何和何故被卷入这场战争。不光是在你那儿——各种事件和社交的中心，而且在这儿——在田间劳作和市民平常所想象的农村的寂静中，也传来战争的回声，也令人心情沉重。我父亲只知道谈论我丝毫也不明了的南征北战的情形。前天，当我照常在村庄的街道上漫步的时候，我看见一个令人心碎的场面……他们都是我们这里招募入伍的一批新兵……有必要去看看那些上前线的新兵的母亲、妻子和儿女的情景，听听新兵和家属的啼哭！你想想，人类已经忘记了救世的天主以博爱和宽恕宿怨的教义训导我们，而人类竟把互相谋杀的伎俩看作主要的优点。

亲爱的，慈善的朋友，再见。愿那救世的天主和圣母赐予您神圣而万能的庇护。

玛丽

“Ah，vousexpédiezlecorrier，Princesse，moij'aidejáexpedielemien．J'aiecrisamapauvremere．”①布里安小姐面露微笑，用她那清脆、悦耳的嗓音说道，她说得很快，“r”音发得不准确。在名叫玛丽亚的公爵小姐的凝神思索、愁闷而阴郁的气氛里，她带进了一种完全异样的轻佻而悦意的洋洋自得的神情。

①法语：啊，您就要把信寄出去，我已经把信寄出去了。信是写给我的可怜的母亲的。


“Princesse，ilfautquejevousprévienne，”她压低嗓门，补充说一句，“Leprinceaeuunealtercation，altercation，”她说道，特别着重用法语腔调发“r”音，并且高兴地听她自己的语声，“unealtercationavecMichelIvanoff．Ilestdetrèsmauvaisehumeur，trèsmorose．Soyezprèvenue，voussauez．”①

“Ah！chèreamie．”名叫玛丽亚的公爵小姐答道，“Jevousaipriedenejamaismeprevenirdel'humeurdanslaquellesetrouvemonpère．Jenemeperometspasdelejuger，etjenevoudruispasquelesautreslefassent．”②

①法语：公爵小姐，我得事先告诉您——公爵把米哈伊尔·伊万内奇大骂了一顿。他的情绪不好，愁眉苦脸。我事先告诉您，您晓得……

②法语：啊，我亲爱的朋友，我求您千万不要对我谈论父亲的心境吧。我不容许我自己评说他，我也不希望他人这样做。


公爵小姐看了一下钟，她发觉已经耽误了五分钟弹钢琴的时间，流露出惊惶的神色向休息室走去。按照规定的作息制度，十二点钟至两点钟之间，公爵休息，公爵小姐弹钢琴。

CHAPTER XXIII

Chinese


THE GREY-HAIRED VALET was sitting in the waiting-room dozing and listening to the prince's snoring in his immense study. From a far-off part of the house there came through closed doors the sound of difficult passages of a sonata of Dusseck's repeated twenty times over.

At that moment a carriage and a little cart drove up to the steps, and Prince Andrey got out of the carriage, helped his little wife out and let her pass into the house before him. Grey Tihon in his wig, popping out at the door of the waiting-room, informed him in a whisper that the prince was taking a nap and made haste to close the door. Tihon knew that no extraordinary event, not even the arrival of his son, would be permitted to break through the routine of the day. Prince Andrey was apparently as well aware of the fact as Tihon. He looked at his watch as though to ascertain whether his father's habits had changed during the time he had not seen him, and satisfying himself that they were unchanged, he turned to his wife.

“He will get up in twenty minutes. Let's go to Marie,” he said.

The little princess had grown stouter during this time, but her short upper lip, with a smile and the faint moustache on it, rose as gaily and charmingly as ever when she spoke.

“Why, it is a palace,” she said to her husband, looking round her with exactly the expression with which people pay compliments to the host at a ball. “Come, quick, quick!” As she looked about her, she smiled at Tihon and at her husband, and at the footman who was showing them in.

“It is Marie practising? Let us go quietly, we must surprise her.” Prince Andrey followed her with a courteous and depressed expression.

“You're looking older, Tihon,” he said as he passed to the old man, who was kissing his hand.

Before they had reached the room, from which the sounds of the clavichord were coming, the pretty, fair-haired Frenchwoman emerged from a side-door. Mademoiselle Bourienne seemed overwhelmed with delight.

“Ah, what a pleasure for the princess!” she exclaimed. “At last! I must tell her.”

“No, no, please not” … said the little princess, kissing her. “You are Mademoiselle Bourienne; I know you already through my sister-in-law's friendship for you. She does not expect us!”

They went up to the door of the divan-room, from which came the sound of the same passage repeated over and over again. Prince Andrey stood still frowning as though in expectation of something unpleasant.

The little princess went in. The passage broke off in the middle; he heard an exclamation, the heavy tread of Princess Marya, and the sound of kissing. When Prince Andrey went in, the two ladies, who had only seen each other once for a short time at Prince Andrey's wedding, were clasped in each other's arms, warmly pressing their lips to the first place each had chanced upon. Mademoiselle Bourienne was standing near them, her hands pressed to her heart; she was smiling devoutly, apparently equally ready to weep and to laugh. Prince Andrey shrugged his shoulders, and scowled as lovers of music scowl when they hear a false note. The two ladies let each other go; then hastened again, as though each afraid of being remiss, to hug each other, began kissing each other's hands and pulling them away, and then fell to kissing each other on the face again. Then they quite astonished Prince Andrey by both suddenly bursting into tears and beginning the kissing over again. Mademoiselle Bourienne cried too. Prince Andrey was unmistakably ill at ease. But to the two women it seemed such a natural thing that they should weep; it seemed never to have occurred to them that their meeting could have taken place without tears.

“Ah, ma chère!… Ah, Marie!” … both the ladies began talking at once, and they laughed. “I had a dream last night. Then you did not expect us? O Marie, you have got thinner.”

“And you are looking better …”

“I recognized the princess at once,” put in Mademoiselle Bourienne.

“And I had no idea!” … cried Princess Marya. “Ah, Andrey, I did not see you.”

Prince Andrey and his sister kissed each other's hands, and he told her she was just as great a cry-baby as she always had been. Princess Marya turned to her brother, and through her tears, her great, luminous eyes, that were beautiful at that instant, rested with a loving, warm and gentle gaze on Prince Andrey's face. The little princess talked incessantly. The short, downy upper lip was continually flying down to meet the rosy, lower lip when necessary, and parting again in a smile of gleaming teeth and eyes. The little princess described an incident that had occurred to them on Spasskoe hill, and might have been serious for her in her condition. And immediately after that she communicated the intelligence that she had left all her clothes in Petersburg, and God knew what she would have to go about in here, and that Andrey was quite changed, and that Kitty Odintsov had married an old man, and that a suitor had turned up for Princess Marya, “who was a suitor worth having,” but that they would talk about that later. Princess Marya was still gazing mutely at her brother, and her beautiful eyes were full of love and melancholy. It was clear that her thoughts were following a train of their own, apart from the chatter of her sister-in-law. In the middle of the latter's description of the last fête-day at Petersburg, she addressed her brother.

“And is it quite settled that you are going to the war, Andrey?” she said, sighing. Liza sighed too.

“Yes, and to-morrow too,” answered her brother.

“He is deserting me here, and Heaven knows why, when he might have had promotion …” Princess Marya did not listen to the end, but following her own train of thought, she turned to her sister-in-law, letting her affectionate eyes rest on her waist.

“Is it really true?” she said.

The face of her sister-in-law changed. She sighed.

“Yes, it's true,” she said. “Oh! It's very dreadful …”

Liza's lip drooped. She put her face close to her sister-in-law's face, and again she unexpectedly began to cry.

“She needs rest,” said Prince Andrey, frowning. “Don't you, Liza? Take her to your room, while I go to father. How is he—just the same?”

“The same, just the same; I don't know what you will think,” Princess Marya answered joyfully.

“And the same hours, and the walks about the avenues, and the lathe?” asked Prince Andrey with a scarcely perceptible smile, showing that, in spite of all his love and respect for his father, he recognised his weaknesses.

“The same hours and the lathe, mathematics too, and my geometry lessons,” Princess Marya answered gaily, as though those lessons were one of the most delightful events of her life.

When the twenty minutes had elapsed, and the time for the old prince to get up had come, Tihon came to call the young man to his father. The old man made a departure from his ordinary routine in honour of his son's arrival. He directed that he should be admitted into his apartments during his time for dressing, before dinner. The old prince used to wear the old-fashioned dress, the kaftan and powder. And when Prince Andrey—not with the disdainful face and manners with which he walked into drawing-rooms, but with the eager face with which he had talked to Pierre—went in to his father's room, the old gentleman was in his dressing-room sitting in a roomy morocco chair in a peignoir, with his head in the hands of Tihon.

“Ah! the warrior! So you want to fight Bonaparte?” said the old man, shaking his powdered head as far as his plaited tail, which was in Tihon's hands, would permit him.

“Mind you look sharp after him, at any rate, or he'll soon be putting us on the list of his subjects. How are you?”

And he held out his cheek to him.

The old gentleman was in excellent humour after his nap before dinner. (He used to say that sleep after dinner was silver, but before dinner it was golden.) He took delighted, sidelong glances at his son from under his thick, overhanging brows. Prince Andrey went up and kissed his father on the spot indicated for him. He made no reply on his father's favourite topic—jesting banter at the military men of the period, and particularly at Bonaparte.

“Yes, I have come to you, father, bringing a wife with child,” said Prince Andrey, with eager and reverential eyes watching every movement of his father's face. “How is your health?”

“None but fools, my lad, and profligates are unwell, and you know me; busy from morning till night and temperate, so of course I'm well.”

“Thank God,” said his son, smiling.

“God's not much to do with the matter. Come, tell me,” the old man went on, going back to his favourite hobby, “how have the Germans trained you to fight with Bonaparte on their new scientific method—strategy as they call it?”

Prince Andrey smiled.

“Give me time to recover myself, father,” he said, with a smile that showed that his father's failings did not prevent his respecting and loving him. “Why, I have only just got here.”

“Nonsense, nonsense,” cried the old man, shaking his tail to try whether it were tightly plaited, and taking his son by the hand. “The house is ready for your wife. Marie will look after her and show her everything, and talk nineteen to the dozen with her too. That's their feminine way. I'm glad to have her. Sit down, talk to me. Mihelson's army, I understand, Tolstoy's too … a simultaneous expedition … but what's the army of the South going to do? Prussia, her neutrality … I know all that. What of Austria?” he said, getting up from his chair and walking about the room, with Tihon running after him, giving him various articles of his apparel. “What about Sweden? How will they cross Pomerania?”

Prince Andrey, seeing the urgency of his father's questions, began explaining the plan of operations of the proposed campaign, speaking at first reluctantly, but becoming more interested as he went on, and unconsciously from habit passing from Russian into French. He told him how an army of ninety thousand troops was to threaten Prussia so as to drive her out of her neutrality and draw her into the war, how part of these troops were to join the Swedish troops at Strahlsund, how two hundred and twenty thousand Austrians were to combine with a hundred thousand Russians in Italy and on the Rhine, and how fifty thousand Russians and fifty thousand English troops were to meet at Naples, and how the army, forming a total of five hundred thousand, was to attack the French on different sides at once. The old prince did not manifest the slightest interest in what he told him. He went on dressing, as he walked about, apparently not listening, and three times he unexpectedly interrupted him. Once he stopped him and shouted: “the white one! the white one!”

This meant that Tihon had not given him the waistcoat he wanted. Another time, he stood still, asked: “And will she be confined soon?” and shook his head reproachfully: “That's bad! Go on, go on.”

The third time was when Prince Andrey was just finishing his description. The old man hummed in French, in his falsetto old voice: “Malbrook goes off to battle, God knows when he'll come back.”

His son only smiled.

“I don't say that this is a plan I approve of,” he said; “I'm only telling you what it is. Napoleon has made a plan by now as good as this one.”

“Well, you have told me nothing new.” And thoughtfully the old man repeated, speaking quickly to himself: “God knows when he'll come back. Go into the dining-room.”

第二十三章

英文 


白发苍苍的侍仆一面坐在那里打瞌睡，一面静听大书斋里公爵的鼾声。住宅远处的一端，紧闭着的门户后面，可以听见杜塞克奏鸣曲，难奏的乐句都重奏二十次。

这时分，一辆四轮轿式马车和一辆轻便马车开到台阶前，安德烈公爵从轿式马车车厢里走出来，搀扶矮小的妻子下车，让她在前面走。白发苍苍的吉洪，头戴假发，从堂倌休息间的门里探出头来，轻言细语地禀告：公爵正在睡觉，随即仓忙地关上了大门。吉洪知道，无论是他儿子归来，还是出现非常事故，都不宜破坏作息制度。安德烈公爵像吉洪一样对这件事了若指掌。他看看表，似乎想证实一下他离开父亲以来父亲的习惯是否发生变化。当他相信父亲的习惯没有改变之后，便转过脸去对妻子说：

“过二十分钟他才起床。我们到公爵小姐玛丽亚那里去吧。”

他说道。

在这段时间以来，矮小的公爵夫人可真长胖了，但是当她开腔的时候，那双眼睛抬了起来，长有茸毛的短嘴唇微露笑意，向上翘起来，一望便令人欣快，讨人喜爱。

“maisc'estunpalais．”①她向四周打量一番，对丈夫说道，那神态就像跳舞会的主人被人夸耀似的，“Allons，vite，vite！…”②她一面回顾，一面对吉洪、对丈夫、对伴随她的堂倌微露笑容。

“C'estmariequisexerce？Allonsdoucement，ilfautlasurprendre．”③

①法语：这真是皇宫啊！

②法语：喂，快点吧，快点吧！……

③法语：是玛丽亚在练钢琴吗？我们不声不响地走过去，省得她望见我们。


安德烈公爵面露恭敬而忧悒的表情，跟在她后面走去。

“吉洪，你变老了。”他走过去，一面对吻他的手的老头子说道。

在那可以听见击弦古钢琴声的房间前面，一个貌美的长着浅色头发的法国女人从侧门跳出来。布里安小姐欣喜欲狂了。

“Ah！quelbonheurpourlaprincesse，”她说道“Enfin！

Ilfautquejelaprevienne．”①

“Non，non，degrace…VousêtesM—lleBourienne，jevousconnaisdéjàparl'amitiequevousportemablle－soeur．”公爵夫人和她接吻时说道，“Ellenenousattendpas！”②

①法语：公爵小姐该会多么高兴啊！毕竟是来了！应该事先告诉她。

②法语：不，不，真是的……您可就是布里安小姐，我的儿媳妇是您的好朋友，我已经认识您了。她没料想我们来了。


他们向休息室门前走去，从门里传出反复弹奏的乐句。安德烈公爵停步了，蹙了蹙额头，好像在等待不愉快的事件发生似的。

公爵夫人走进来，乐句奏到半中间就停止了，可以听见叫喊声，公爵小姐玛丽亚的沉重的步履声和接吻的声音。当安德烈公爵走进来的时候，公爵夫人和公爵小姐拥抱起来了，她们的嘴唇正紧紧贴在乍一见面就亲嘴的地方，她们二人只是在安德烈公爵举行婚礼时短暂地会过一次面。布里安小姐站在她们身边，两手扪住胸口，露出虔诚的微笑，看起来，无论是啼哭还是嘻笑，她都有充分准备。安德烈公爵像音乐爱好者听见一个走调的音那样，耸了一下肩膀，蹙了一下眉头。两个女人把手放开了，然后，仿佛惧怕迟误似的，她们又互相抓住一双手，亲吻起来，放开两只手又互相吻吻脸皮。她们哭起来了，哭着哭着又亲吻起来，安德烈公爵认为这是出人意料的事。布里安小姐同样地哭了。看来安德烈公爵感到尴尬，但是在这两个女人心目中，她们的啼哭是很自然的。显然，她们并不会推测，这次见面会搞出什么别的花样。

“Ah！chère…Ah！marie…”两个女人忽然笑起来，开口说道，“J'air&