一楼留给奥鹏

CHAPTER I

Chinese


“WELL, PRINCE, Genoa and Lucca are now no more than private estates of the Bonaparte family. No, I warn you, that if you do not tell me we are at war, if you again allow yourself to palliate all the infamies and atrocities of this Antichrist (upon my word, I believe he is), I don't know you in future, you are no longer my friend, no longer my faithful slave, as you say. There, how do you do, how do you do? I see I'm scaring you, sit down and talk to me.”

These words were uttered in July 1805 by Anna Pavlovna Scherer, a distinguished lady of the court, and confidential maid-of-honour to the Empress Marya Fyodorovna. It was her greeting to Prince Vassily, a man high in rank and office, who was the first to arrive at her soirée. Anna Pavlovna had been coughing for the last few days; she had an attack of la grippe, as she said—grippe was then a new word only used by a few people. In the notes she had sent round in the morning by a footman in red livery, she had written to all indiscriminately:

“If you have nothing better to do, count (or prince), and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor invalid is not too alarming to you, I shall be charmed to see you at my house between 7 and 10. Annette Scherer.”

“Heavens! what a violent outburst!” the prince responded, not in the least disconcerted at such a reception. He was wearing an embroidered court uniform, stockings and slippers, and had stars on his breast, and a bright smile on his flat face.

He spoke in that elaborately choice French, in which our forefathers not only spoke but thought, and with those slow, patronising intonations peculiar to a man of importance who has grown old in court society. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed her hand, presenting her with a view of his perfumed, shining bald head, and complacently settled himself on the sofa.

“First of all, tell me how you are, dear friend. Relieve a friend's anxiety,” he said, with no change of his voice and tone, in which indifference, and even irony, was perceptible through the veil of courtesy and sympathy.

“How can one be well when one is in moral suffering? How can one help being worried in these times, if one has any feeling?” said Anna Pavlovna. “You'll spend the whole evening with me, I hope?”

“And the fête at the English ambassador's? To-day is Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there,” said the prince. “My daughter is coming to fetch me and take me there.”

“I thought to-day's fête had been put off. I confess that all these festivities and fireworks are beginning to pall.”

“If they had known that it was your wish, the fête would have been put off,” said the prince, from habit, like a wound-up clock, saying things he did not even wish to be believed.

“Don't tease me. Well, what has been decided in regard to the Novosiltsov dispatch? You know everything.”

“What is there to tell?” said the prince in a tired, listless tone. “What has been decided? It has been decided that Bonaparte has burnt his ships, and I think that we are about to burn ours.”

Prince Vassily always spoke languidly, like an actor repeating his part in an old play. Anna Pavlovna Scherer, in spite of her forty years, was on the contrary brimming over with excitement and impulsiveness. To be enthusiastic had become her pose in society, and at times even when she had, indeed, no inclination to be so, she was enthusiastic so as not to disappoint the expectations of those who knew her. The affected smile which played continually about Anna Pavlovna's face, out of keeping as it was with her faded looks, expressed a spoilt child's continual consciousness of a charming failing of which she had neither the wish nor the power to correct herself, which, indeed, she saw no need to correct.

In the midst of a conversation about politics, Anna Pavlovna became greatly excited.

“Ah, don't talk to me about Austria! I know nothing about it, perhaps, but Austria has never wanted, and doesn't want war. She is betraying us. Russia alone is to be the saviour of Europe. Our benefactor knows his lofty destiny, and will be true to it. That's the one thing I have faith in. Our good and sublime emperor has the greatest part in the world to play, and he is so virtuous and noble that God will not desert him, and he will fulfil his mission—to strangle the hydra of revolution, which is more horrible than ever now in the person of this murderer and miscreant.… Whom can we reckon on, I ask you? … England with her commercial spirit will not comprehend and cannot comprehend all the loftiness of soul of the Emperor Alexander. She has refused to evacuate Malta. She tries to detect, she seeks a hidden motive in our actions. What have they said to Novosiltsov? Nothing. They didn't understand, they're incapable of understanding the self-sacrifice of our emperor, who desires nothing for himself, and everything for the good of humanity. And what have they promised? Nothing. What they have promised even won't come to anything! Prussia has declared that Bonaparte is invincible, and that all Europe can do nothing against him.… And I don't believe a single word of what was said by Hardenberg or Haugwitz. That famous Prussian neutrality is a mere snare. I have no faith but in God and the lofty destiny of our adored emperor. He will save Europe!” She stopped short abruptly, with a smile of amusement at her own warmth.

“I imagine,” said the prince, smiling, “that if you had been sent instead of our dear Wintsengerode, you would have carried the Prussian king's consent by storm,—you are so eloquent. Will you give me some tea?”

“In a moment. By the way,” she added subsiding into calm again, “there are two very interesting men to be here to-night, the vicomte de Mortemart; he is connected with the Montmorencies through the Rohans, one of the best families in France. He is one of the good emigrants, the real ones. Then Abbé Morio; you know that profound intellect? He has been received by the emperor. Do you know him?”

“Ah! I shall be delighted,” said the prince. “Tell me,” he added, as though he had just recollected something, speaking with special non-chalance, though the question was the chief motive of his visit: “is it true that the dowager empress desires the appointment of Baron Funke as first secretary to the Vienna legation? He is a poor creature, it appears, that baron.” Prince Vassily would have liked to see his son appointed to the post, which people were trying, through the Empress Marya Fyodorovna, to obtain for the baron.

Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to signify that neither she nor any one else could pass judgment on what the empress might be pleased or see fit to do.

“Baron Funke has been recommended to the empress-mother by her sister,” was all she said in a dry, mournful tone. When Anna Pavlovna spoke of the empress her countenance suddenly assumed a profound and genuine expression of devotion and respect, mingled with melancholy, and this happened whenever she mentioned in conversation her illustrious patroness. She said that her Imperial Majesty had been graciously pleased to show great esteem to Baron Funke, and again a shade of melancholy passed over her face. The prince preserved an indifferent silence. Anna Pavlovna, with the adroitness and quick tact of a courtier and a woman, felt an inclination to chastise the prince for his temerity in referring in such terms to a person recommended to the empress, and at the same time to console him.

“But about your own family,” she said, “do you know that your daughter, since she has come out, charms everybody? People say she is as beautiful as the day.”

The prince bowed in token of respect and acknowledgment.

“I often think,” pursued Anna Pavlovna, moving up to the prince and smiling cordially to him, as though to mark that political and worldly conversation was over and now intimate talk was to begin: “I often think how unfairly the blessings of life are sometimes apportioned. Why has fate given you two such splendid children—I don't include Anatole, your youngest—him I don't like” (she put in with a decision admitting of no appeal, raising her eyebrows)—“such charming children? And you really seem to appreciate them less than any one, and so you don't deserve them.”

And she smiled her ecstatic smile.

“What would you have? Lavater would have said that I have not the bump of paternity,” said the prince.

“Don't keep on joking. I wanted to talk to you seriously. Do you know I'm not pleased with your youngest son. Between ourselves” (her face took its mournful expression), “people have been talking about him to her majesty and commiserating you…”

The prince did not answer, but looking at him significantly, she waited in silence for his answer. Prince Vassily frowned.

“What would you have me do?” he said at last. “You know I have done everything for their education a father could do, and they have both turned out des imbéciles. Ippolit is at least a quiet fool, while Anatole's a fool that won't keep quiet, that's the only difference,” he said, with a smile, more unnatural and more animated than usual, bringing out with peculiar prominence something surprisingly brutal and unpleasant in the lines about his mouth.

“Why are children born to men like you? If you weren't a father, I could find no fault with you,” said Anna Pavlovna, raising her eyes pensively.

“I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess. My children are the bane of my existence. It's the cross I have to bear, that's how I explain it to myself. What would you have?” … He broke off with a gesture expressing his resignation to a cruel fate. Anna Pavlovna pondered a moment.

“Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal son Anatole? People say,” she said, “that old maids have a mania for matchmaking. I have never been conscious of this failing before, but I have a little person in my mind, who is very unhappy with her father, a relation of ours, the young Princess Bolkonsky.”

Prince Vassily made no reply, but with the rapidity of reflection and memory characteristic of worldly people, he signified by a motion of the head that he had taken in and was considering what she said.

“No, do you know that that boy is costing me forty thousand roubles a year?” he said, evidently unable to restrain the gloomy current of his thoughts. He paused. “What will it be in five years if this goes on? These are the advantages of being a father.… Is she rich, your young princess?”

“Her father is very rich and miserly. He lives in the country. You know that notorious Prince Bolkonsky, retired under the late emperor, and nicknamed the ‘Prussian King.' He's a very clever man, but eccentric and tedious. The poor little thing is as unhappy as possible. Her brother it is who has lately been married to Liza Meinen, an adjutant of Kutuzov's. He'll be here this evening.”

“Listen, dear Annette,” said the prince, suddenly taking his companion's hand, and for some reason bending it downwards. “Arrange this matter for me and I am your faithful slave for ever and ever. She's of good family and well off. That's all I want.”

And with the freedom, familiarity, and grace that distinguished him, he took the maid-of-honour's hand, kissed it, and as he kissed it waved her hand, while he stretched forward in his low chair and gazed away into the distance.

“Wait,” said Anna Pavlovna, considering. “I'll talk to Lise (the wife of young Bolkonsky) this very evening, and perhaps it can be arranged. I'll try my prentice hand as an old maid in your family.”

第一章

英文 


“啊，公爵，热那亚和卢加现在是波拿巴家族的领地，不过，我得事先对您说，如果您不对我说我们这里处于战争状态，如果您还敢袒护这个基督的敌人（我确乎相信，他是一个基督的敌人）的种种卑劣行径和他一手造成的灾祸，那么我就不再管您了。您就不再是我的朋友，您就不再是，如您所说的，我的忠实的奴隶。啊，您好，您好。我看我正在吓唬您了，请坐，讲给我听。”

一八○五年七月，遐迩闻名的安娜·帕夫洛夫娜·舍列尔——皇后玛丽亚·费奥多罗夫娜的宫廷女官和心腹，在欢迎首位莅临晚会的达官显要瓦西里公爵时说过这番话。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜一连咳嗽几天了。正如她所说，她身罹流行性感冒（那时候，流行性感冒是个新词，只有少数人才用它）。清早由一名红衣听差在分别发出的便函中，千篇一律地写道：“伯爵（或公爵），如您意下尚无任何可取的娱乐，如今日晚上这个可怜的女病人的症候不致使您过分惧怕，则请于七时至十时间莅临寒舍，不胜雀跃。安娜·舍列尔。”

“我的天，大打出手，好不激烈！”一位进来的公爵答道，对这种接见丝毫不感到困惑，他穿着绣花的宫廷礼服、长统袜子、短靴皮鞋，佩戴着多枚明星勋章，扁平的面部流露出愉快的表情。

他讲的是优雅的法语，我们的祖辈不仅借助它来说话，而且借助它来思考，他说起话来带有很平静的、长辈庇护晚辈时特有的腔调，那是上流社会和宫廷中德高望重的老年人独具的语调。他向安娜·帕夫洛夫娜跟前走来，把那洒满香水的闪闪发亮的秃头凑近她，吻吻她的手，就心平气和地坐到沙发上。

“亲爱的朋友，请您首先告诉我，身体可好吗？您让我安静下来，”他说道，嗓音并没有改变，透过他那讲究礼貌的、关怀备至的腔调可以看出冷淡的、甚至是讥讽的意味。

“当你精神上遭受折磨时，身体上怎么能够健康呢？……在我们这个时代，即令有感情，又怎么能够保持宁静呢？”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道，“我希望您整个晚上都待在我这儿，好吗？”

“英国公使的喜庆日子呢？今日是星期三，我要在那里露面，”公爵说道，“我女儿顺便来接我，坐一趟车子。”

“我以为今天的庆祝会取消了。Jevousavouequetoutescesfetesettouscesfeuxd'artificecommencentadevenirinBsipides．”①

“若是人家知道您有这种心愿，庆祝会就得取消的。”公爵说道，他俨然像一架上紧发条的钟，习惯地说些他不想要别人相信的话。

“Nemetourmentezpas．Ehbienqu'a－t－ondécidéparrapportàladépêchedeNovosilzoff？Voussaveztout．”②

“怎么对您说好呢？”公爵说道，他的语调冷淡，索然无味。“Qu'a—t—ondécidê？OnadécidêqueBuonaparteabrúlésesvaisseaux，etjecroisquenoussommesentraindebrulerlesnotres．”③

①法语：老实说，所有这些庆祝会、烟火，都令人厌恶极了。

②法语：请您不要折磨我。哦，他们就诺沃西利采夫的紧急情报作出了什么决议？这一切您了若指掌。

③法语：决定了什么？他们决定：波拿巴既已焚烧自己的战船，看来我们也要准备这样做。


瓦西里公爵向来是慢吞吞地说话，像演员口中道出旧台词那样。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜·舍列尔虽说是年满四十，却反而充满活力和激情。

她满腔热情，使她取得了社会地位。有时她甚至没有那种希冀，但为不辜负熟悉她的人们的期望，她还是要做一个满腔热情的人。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜脸上经常流露的冷淡的微笑，虽与她的憔悴的面容不相称，但却像娇生惯养的孩童那样，表示她经常意识到自己的微小缺点，不过她不想，也无法而且认为没有必要去把它改正。

在有关政治行动的谈话当中，安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的心情激昂起来。

“咳！请您不要对我谈论奥地利了！也许我什么都不明白，可是奥地利从来不需要，现在也不需要战争。它把我们出卖了。唯独俄罗斯才应当成为欧洲的救星。我们的恩人知道自己的崇高天职，他必将信守不渝。这就是我唯一的信条。我们慈善的国君当前需要发挥世界上至为伟大的职能。他十分善良，道德高尚，上帝决不会把他抛弃，他必将履行自己的天职，镇压革命的邪恶势力；他如今竟以这个杀手和恶棍作为代表人物，革命就显得愈益可怖了。遵守教规者付出了鲜血，唯独我们才应该讨还这一笔血债。我们要仰赖谁呢？我问您……散布着商业气息的英国决不懂得，也没法懂得亚历山大皇帝品性的高尚。美国拒绝让出马耳他。它想窥看，并且探寻我们行动的用意。他们对诺沃西利采夫说了什么话？……什么也没说。他们不理解，也没法理解我们皇帝的奋不顾身精神，我们皇帝丝毫不贪图私利，他心中总想为全世界造福。他们许诺了什么？什么也没有。他们的许诺，将只是一纸空文！普鲁士已经宣布，说波拿巴无敌于天下，整个欧洲都无能同他作对……我一点也不相信哈登贝格·豪格维茨的鬼话。Cettefameuseneutralitéprussienne，cen'estqu'unpiège．①我只相信上帝，相信我们的贤明君主的高贵命运。他一定能够拯救欧洲！……”她忽然停了下来，对她自己的激昂情绪流露出讥讽的微笑。

“我认为，”公爵面露微笑地说道，“假如不委派我们这个可爱的温岑格罗德，而是委派您，您就会迫使普鲁士国王达成协议。您真是个能言善辩的人。给我斟点茶，好吗？”

“我马上把茶端来。顺带提一句，”她又心平气和地补充说，“今天在这儿有两位饶有风趣的人士，一位是LevicomtedeMostmart，ilestalliéauxMontmorencyparlesRohans，②法国优秀的家族之一。他是侨民之中的一个名副其实的佼佼者。另一位则是L'abbeMorio．③您认识这位聪明透顶的人士么？国王接见过他了。您知道吗？”

“啊！我将会感到非常高兴，”公爵说道，“请您告诉我，”他补充说，仿佛他方才想起某件事，显露出不经心的神态，而他所要问的事情，正是他来拜谒的主要鹄的。“L'impératrice－mère④想委派斗克男爵出任维也纳的头等秘书，真有其事吗？C'estunpauvresire，cebaron，àcequ'ilparait，⑤”瓦西里公爵想把儿子安插到这个职位上，而大家却在千方百计地通过玛丽亚·费奥多罗夫娜为男爵谋到这个职位。

①法语：普鲁士的这种臭名昭著的中立，只是个陷阱。

②法语：莫特马尔子爵，借助罗昂家的关系，已同蒙莫朗西结成亲戚。

③法语：莫里约神甫。

④法语：孀居的太后。

⑤法语：这公爵似乎是个卑微的人。


安娜·帕夫洛夫娜几乎阖上了眼睛，暗示无论是她，或是任何人都不能断定，皇太后乐意或者喜欢做什么事。

“MonsieurlebarondeFunkeaétérecommandéàL'impératrice－mèreparsasoeur，”①她只是用悲哀的、冷冰冰的语调说了这句话。当安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说到太后的名字时，她脸上顿时流露出无限忠诚和十分敬重的表情，而且混杂有每次谈话中提到她的至高无上的庇护者时就会表现出来的忧悒情绪。她说，太后陛下对斗克男爵beaucoupd'estime，②于是她的目光又笼罩着一抹愁云。

公爵不开腔了，现出了冷漠的神态。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜本身具备有廷臣和女人的那种灵活和麻利的本能，待人接物有分寸，她心想抨击公爵，因为他胆敢肆意评论那个推荐给太后的人，而同时又安慰公爵。

“Maisàproposdevotrefamille，”③她说道，“您知道吗？自从您女儿抛头露面，进入交际界以来，faitlesdélicesdetoutlemonde，Onlatrouvebelle，commeLejour．”④

①法语：斗克男爵是由太后的妹妹向太后推荐的。

②法语：十分尊重。

③法语：顺便谈谈您的家庭情况吧。

④法语：她是整个上流社会的宠物。大家都认为她是娇艳的美人。


公爵深深地鞠躬，表示尊敬和谢意。

“我常有这样的想法，”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜在沉默须臾之后继续说道，她将身子凑近公爵，对他露出亲切的微笑，仿佛在表示，政界和交际界的谈话已经结束，现在可以开始推心置腹地交谈，“我常有这样的想法，生活上的幸福有时安排得不公平。为什么命运之神赐予您这么两个可爱的孩子（除开您的小儿子阿纳托利，我不喜欢他），”她扬起眉毛，断然地插上一句话，“为什么命运之神赐予您这么两个顶好的孩子呢？可是您真的不珍惜他们，所以您不配有这么两个孩子。”

她于是兴奋地莞然一笑。

“Quevoulez－vous？Lafaterauraitditquejen'aipaslabossedelapaternité，①”公爵说道。

“请不要再开玩笑。我想和您认真地谈谈。您知道，我不满意您的小儿子。对这些话请别介意，就在我们之间说说吧（她脸上带有忧悒的表情），大家在太后跟前议论他，都对您表示惋惜……”

公爵不回答，但她沉默地、有所暗示地望着他，等待他回答。瓦西里公爵皱了一阵眉头。

“我该怎样办呢？”他终于说道。“您知道，为教育他们，我已竭尽为父的应尽的能事，可是到头来两个都成了desimBbeciles，②伊波利特充其量是个温顺的笨蛋，阿纳托利却是个惴惴不安的笨蛋。这就是二人之间唯一的差异。”他说道，笑得比平常更不自然，更兴奋，同时嘴角边起了皱褶，特别强烈地显得出人意料地粗暴和可憎。

①法语：怎么办呢？拉法特会说我没有父爱的骨相。

②法语：笨蛋。


“为什么像您这种人要生儿女呢？如果您不当父亲，我就无话可责备您了。”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道，若有所思地抬起眼睛。

“Jesuisvotre①忠实的奴隶，etàvousseulejepuisl'avou－er，我的孩子们——cesontlesentravesdemonexisBtence，②这就是我的苦难。我是这样自我解释的。Quevoulezvous？……”③他默不作声，用手势表示他听从残酷命运的摆布。

①法语：我是您的。

②法语：我只能向您一人坦白承认。我的孩子们是我的生活负担。

③法语：怎么办呢？


安娜·帕夫洛夫娜陷入了沉思。

“您从来没有想到替您那个浪子阿纳托利娶亲的事么？据说，”她开口说道，“老处女都有lamainedesmariages，①我还不觉得我自己会有这个弱点，可是我这里有一个petitepersonne，②她和她父亲相处，极为不幸，她就是博尔孔斯卡娅，uneparenteanous，uneprincesse．”③尽管瓦西里公爵具备上流社会人士固有的神速的颖悟力和记忆力，但对她的见识他只是摇摇脑袋表示要加以斟酌，并没有作答。

“不，您是不是知道，这个阿纳托利每年都要花费我四万卢布。”他说道，看来无法遏制他那忧悒的心绪。他沉默了片刻。

“若是这样拖下去，五年后那会怎样呢？VoilàL'avantageà'ètrepère。④您那个公爵小姐很富有吗？”

①法语：为人办婚事的癖性。

②法语：少女。

③法语：我们的一个亲戚，公爵小姐。

④法语：这就是为父的益处。


“他父亲很富有，可也很吝啬。他在乡下居住。您知道，这个大名鼎鼎的博尔孔斯基公爵早在已故的皇帝在位时就退休了，他的绰号是‘普鲁士国王'。他是个非常聪明的人，可脾气古怪，难于同他相处。Lapauvrepetiteestmalheureuse，commelespierres，①她有个大哥，在当库图佐夫的副官，就在不久前娶上了丽莎·梅南，今天他要上我这儿来。”

“Ecoutez，chèreAnnette，②”公爵说道，他忽然抓住交谈者的手，不知怎的使它稍微向下弯。“Arrangez－moicetteaffaireetjesuisvotre③最忠诚的奴隶àtoutjamais（奴辈，commemon村长m'écritdes④在汇报中所写的）。她出身于名门望族，又很富有。这一切都是我所需要的。”

他的动作灵活、亲昵而优美，可作为他的表征，他抓起宫廷女官的手吻了吻，握着她的手摇晃了几下，伸开手脚懒洋洋地靠在安乐椅上，抬起眼睛向一旁望去。

“Attendez，”⑤安娜·帕夫洛夫娜思忖着说道，“我今天跟丽莎（Lafemmedujeune博尔孔斯基⑥）谈谈，也许这事情会办妥的。Ceseradansvotrefamille，quejeferaimonapBprentissagedevieillefille．⑦”

①法语：这个可怜的小姐太不幸了。

②法语：亲爱的安内特，请听我说吧。

③法语：替我办妥这件事，我就永远是您的。

④法语：正如我的村长所写的。

⑤法语：请您等一等。

⑥法语：博尔孔斯基的妻子。

⑦我开始在您家里学习老处女的行当。

CHAPTER II

Chinese


ANNA PAVLOVNA'S DRAWING-ROOM gradually began to fill. The people of the highest distinction in Petersburg were there, people very different in ages and characters, but alike in the set in which they moved. The daughter of Prince Vassily, the beauty, Ellen, came to fetch her father and go with him to the ambassador's fête. She was wearing a ball-dress with an imperial badge on it. The young Princess Bolkonsky was there, celebrated as the most seductive woman in Petersburg. She had been married the previous winter, and was not now going out into the great world on account of her interesting condition, but was still to be seen at small parties. Prince Ippolit, the son of Prince Vassily, came too with Mortemart, whom he introduced. The Abbé Morio was there too, and many others.

“Have you not yet seen, or not been introduced to ma tante?” Anna Pavlovna said to her guests as they arrived, and very seriously she led them up to a little old lady wearing tall bows, who had sailed in out of the next room as soon as the guests began to arrive. Anna Pavlovna mentioned their names, deliberately turning her eyes from the guest to ma tante, and then withdrew. All the guests performed the ceremony of greeting the aunt, who was unknown, uninteresting and unnecessary to every one. Anna Pavlovna with mournful, solemn sympathy, followed these greetings, silently approving them. Ma tante said to each person the same words about his health, her own health, and the health of her majesty, who was, thank God, better to-day. Every one, though from politeness showing no undue haste, moved away from the old lady with a sense of relief at a tiresome duty accomplished, and did not approach her again all the evening. The young Princess Bolkonsky had come with her work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little upper lip, faintly darkened with down, was very short over her teeth, but was all the more charming when it was lifted, and still more charming when it was at times drawn down to meet the lower lip. As is always the case with perfectly charming women, her defect — the shortness of the lip and the half-opened mouth — seemed her peculiar, her characteristic beauty. Every one took delight in watching the pretty creature full of life and gaiety, so soon to be a mother, and so lightly bearing her burden. Old men and bored, depressed young men gazing at her felt as though they were becoming like her, by being with her and talking a little while to her. Any man who spoke to her, and at every word saw her bright little smile and shining white teeth, gleaming continually, imagined that he was being particularly successful this evening. And this each thought in turn.

The little princess, moving with a slight swing, walked with rapid little steps round the table with her work-bag in her hand, and gaily arranging the folds of her gown, sat down on a sofa near the silver samovar; it seemed as though everything she did was a festival for herself and all around her.

“I have brought my work,” she said, displaying her reticule, and addressing the company generally. “Mind, Annette, don't play me a nasty trick,” she turned to the lady of the house; “you wrote to me that it was quite a little gathering. See how I am got up.”

And she flung her arms open to show her elegant grey dress, trimmed with lace and girt a little below the bosom with a broad sash.

“Never mind, Lise, you will always be prettier than any one else,” answered Anna Pavlovna.

“You know my husband is deserting me,” she went on in just the same voice, addressing a general; “he is going to get himself killed. Tell me what this nasty war is for,” she said to Prince Vassily, and without waiting for an answer she turned to Prince Vassily's daughter, the beautiful Ellen.

“How delightful this little princess is!” said Prince Vassily in an undertone to Anna Pavlovna.

Soon after the little princess, there walked in a massively built, stout young man in spectacles, with a cropped head, light breeches in the mode of the day, with a high lace ruffle and a ginger-coloured coat. This stout young man was the illegitimate son of a celebrated dandy of the days of Catherine, Count Bezuhov, who was now dying at Moscow. He had not yet entered any branch of the service; he had only just returned from abroad, where he had been educated, and this was his first appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with a nod reserved for persons of the very lowest hierarchy in her drawing-room. But, in spite of this greeting, Anna Pavlovna's countenance showed signs on seeing Pierre of uneasiness and alarm, such as is shown at the sight of something too big and out of place. Though Pierre certainly was somewhat bigger than any of the other men in the room, this expression could only have reference to the clever, though shy, observant and natural look that distinguished him from every one else in the drawing-room.

“It is very kind of you, M. Pierre, to have come to see a poor invalid,” Anna Pavlovna said to him, exchanging anxious glances with her aunt, to whom she was conducting him.

Pierre murmured something unintelligible, and continued searching for something with his eyes. He smiled gleefully and delightedly, bowing to the little princess as though she were an intimate friend, and went up to the aunt. Anna Pavlovna's alarm was not without grounds, for Pierre walked away from the aunt without waiting to the end of her remarks about her majesty's health. Anna Pavlovna stopped him in dismay with the words: “You don't know Abbé Morio? He's a very interesting man,” she said.

“Yes, I have heard of his scheme for perpetual peace, and it's very interesting, but hardly possible …”

“You think so?” said Anna Pavlovna in order to say something and to get away again to her duties as hostess, but Pierre committed the opposite incivility. Just now he had walked off without listening to the lady who was addressing him; now he detained by his talk a lady who wanted to get away from him. With head bent and legs planted wide apart, he began explaining to Anna Pavlovna why he considered the abbé's scheme chimerical.

“We will talk of it later,” said Anna Pavlovna, smiling.

And getting rid of this unmannerly young man she returned to her duties, keeping her eyes and ears open, ready to fly to the assistance at any point where the conversation was flagging. Just as the foreman of a spinning-mill settles the work-people in their places, walks up and down the works, and noting any stoppage or unusual creaking or too loud a whir in the spindles, goes up hurriedly, slackens the machinery and sets it going properly, so Anna Pavlovna, walking about her drawing-room, went up to any circle that was pausing or too loud in conversation and by a single word or change of position set the conversational machine going again in its regular, decorous way. But in the midst of these cares a special anxiety on Pierre's account could still be discerned in her. She kept an anxious watch on him as he went up to listen to what was being said near Mortemart, and walked away to another group where the abbé was talking. Pierre had been educated abroad, and this party at Anna Pavlovna's was the first at which he had been present in Russia. He knew all the intellectual lights of Petersburg gathered together here, and his eyes strayed about like a child's in a toy-shop. He was afraid at every moment of missing some intellectual conversation which he might have heard. Gazing at the self-confident and refined expressions of the personages assembled here, he was continually expecting something exceptionally clever. At last he moved up to Abbé Morio. The conversation seemed interesting, and he stood still waiting for an opportunity of expressing his own ideas, as young people are fond of doing.

第二章

英文 


安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的客厅渐渐挤满了来宾。彼得堡的有名望的显贵都来赴会了，就其年龄和性情而言，这些人虽然各不相同，但是就其生活的社会而言，却是相同的。瓦西里公爵的女儿——貌美的海伦前来赴会了，她顺路来接父亲，以便一同去出席公使的庆祝大会。她佩戴花字奖章，身穿舞会的艳装。知名的、年轻的、身材矮小的叫做博尔孔斯卡娅的公爵夫人，LafemmelaplusséduisantedePétersbourg①，也来赴会了；她于去冬出阁，因为怀胎，眼下不能跻身于稠人广众的交际场所，但仍旧出席小型晚会。瓦西里公爵的儿子伊波利特随同他所举荐的莫特马尔也来赴会了；此外，前来赴会的还有莫里约神父和许多旁的人。

“我还没有见过（或者：您和Matante②不相识吧？）。”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜对各位来宾说，又一本正经地把他们领到小老太太跟前，她头上束着高高的蝴蝶结，当宾客快要到来时，便从另一个房间从容平稳地走出来；安娜·帕夫洛夫娜喊出一个个来客的名字，同时把目光慢慢地从客人移到matante身上，之后她就走开了。

①彼得堡的迷人的女人。

②法语：我的姑母。


各位来宾都向这个谁也不熟悉、谁也不感兴趣、谁也不需要的姑母行礼问安。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜显露出忧郁而庄重的神态，聆听他们的问候，心中默默地表示赞许。matante用同样的言词对每位来宾谈论到他们的情形，谈论到她自己和太后的健康情形，“谢天谢地，太后今朝有起色。”各位前来叩安的客人，为着要讲究礼节，都不表露出仓忙的神色，但都怀着履行艰巨职责之后的轻快的感觉离开老太太，整个夜晚再也不到她身边去了。

年轻的名叫博尔孔斯卡娅的公爵夫人来了，她随身带着一个金线织的丝绒袋子，内中装有针线活儿。她那长有略带黑色绒毛的令人悦目的上唇，翘起来，露出了上牙，正因为这样，上唇启开时，就显得愈加好看，有时候上唇向前伸出或者搭在下唇上，就愈益好看了。她的缺点——翘嘴唇、微微张开的口——似乎已构成她的特殊的美。无论谁看见这个身体健壮、充满活力、即令是怀胎，依然一身轻快的、长相十分好看的未来的母亲，都感到无比喜悦。老年人和阴郁而烦闷的年青人，设若和她在一块待上片刻，聊聊天，就好像变得和她一个模样了。谁和她聊过天，看见她每说一句话都会露出来爽朗的微笑，看见她那雪白的、闪闪发亮的牙齿，就会感到今天受宠若惊，飘飘然。每个人脑子里都会浮现出这种想法。

身材矮小的公爵夫人手上提着一个装有针线活的袋子，迈着急速的碎步，蹒跚地绕过桌子，愉快地弄平连衣裙，便在银质茶炊旁的长沙发上坐下来，仿佛她无论做什么事情，对她本人和她周围的人，都是一件partiedeplaisir。①“J'aiapportémonouvrage，”②她打开女用手提包，把脸转向大家说道。

“您瞧吧，Annette，nemejouezpasunmauvais′tour，”她把脸转向女主人说话。“Vousm'avezécrit，quec'étaitunetoutepetitesoirée；voyezcommejesuisattifée．”③

①法语：开心事。

②法语：我把针线活儿随身带来了。

③法语：不要恶毒地跟我开玩笑，您写给我的信上说，你们举行一个小型的晚会。您瞧，我已经围上披肩了。


她于是两手一摊，让大伙儿瞧瞧她那件缀上花边的雅致的灰灰色的连衣裙，前胸以下系着一条宽阔的绸带。

“Soyeztranquille，Lise，voussereztoujourslaplusjolie，”①安娜·帕夫洛夫娜回答。

“Voussavez，monmarim'abandonne。”她把脸转向一位将军，用同样的语调继续说下去，“ilvasefairetuer．Ditesmoi，pourquoicettevilaineguerre，”②她对瓦西里公爵说道，不等他回答，便转过身来和公爵的女儿——貌美的海伦谈话。

“Quelledélicieusepersonnequecettepetiteprincesse！”③瓦西里公爵轻言细语地对安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道。

①法语：丽莎，请您放心吧，您毕竟比谁都漂亮。

②法语：您知道，我的丈夫要把我抛弃了。他要去拼死卖命。请您告诉我，这种万恶的战争是为了什么目的啊！

③法语：这个身材矮小的公爵夫人，是个多么讨人喜欢的人啊！


紧随那矮小的公爵夫人之后，有一个块头大的、略嫌肥胖的年轻人走进来了、头发剪得短短的，戴着一付眼镜，穿着一条时髦的浅色裤子，那衣领显得又高又硬，还披上一件棕色的燕尾服。这个略嫌肥胖的年轻人是叶卡捷琳娜在位时一位大名鼎鼎的达官、而目前正在莫斯科奄奄一息的别祖霍夫伯爵的私生子。他还没有在任何地方工作过，刚从外国深造回来，头一次在社交场合露面。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜对他鞠个躬，表示欢迎，平素她也同样地对待自己沙龙中的下级人员。虽然这是迎接下级的礼节，但一看见皮埃尔走进门来，安娜·帕夫洛夫娜脸上就表现出惊惶不安的神情，有如看见一只不宜于此地栖身的巨大怪物似的。皮埃尔的身材确实比沙龙里其他男人魁梧些，但这种惊惶的表情只可能由于他那机灵而又畏怯、敏锐而又焦然，有别于沙龙中其他人的目光而引起的。

“C'estbienaimableàvous，monsieurPierre，d'etrevenuvoirunepauvremalade，”①安娜·帕夫洛夫娜对他说道，把他带到姑母面前，惊惶失措地和她互使眼色。皮埃尔嘟哝着说了一句令人不懂的话，继续不停地用眼睛探寻着什么。他欢快地微微一笑，像对亲密的朋友那样，向身材矮小的公爵夫人鞠躬行礼，接着便向姑母面前走去。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的惊惶失措的神态并不是无缘无故的，因为皮埃尔还没有听完姑母讲太后的健康情形，便从她身旁走开了。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜心慌意乱地用话阻拦他。

①法语：皮埃尔先生，您真是太好了，来探望一个可怜的女病人。


“您不知道莫里约神父吗？他是个很有风趣的人……”她说。

“是的，我听过有关他所提出的永久和平的计划。这真是十分有趣，不过未必有可能……”

“您有这样的想法？……”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道，她本想随便聊聊，再去做些家庭主妇的活儿，但是皮埃尔竟然做出一反常态的缺少礼貌的举动。原先他没有听完对话人的话就走开了，此刻他却说些闲话来拦住需要离开他的对话人。他便垂着头，叉开他两条大腿，开始向安娜·帕夫洛夫娜证明，他为何认为神父的计划纯粹是幻想。

“我们以后来谈吧。”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道，流露出一丝微笑。

她摆脱了那个不善于生活的年轻人之后，便回过头来去干家庭主妇的活儿，继续留心地听听，仔细地看看，准备去帮助哪个谈得不带劲的地方的人。像一个纺纱作坊的老板，让劳动者就位以后，便在作坊里踱来踱去，发现纺锤停止转动，或者声音逆耳，轧轧作响、音量太大时，就赶快走去制动纺车，或者使它运转自如——安娜·帕夫洛夫娜也是这样处理事情的，她在自己客厅里踱来踱去，不时地走到寂然无声或者谈论过多的人群面前，开口说句话或者调动他们的坐位，于是又使谈话机器从容不迫地、文质彬彬地转动起来。但是在她这样照料的当儿，依然看得出她分外担心皮埃尔。当皮埃尔走到莫特马尔周围的人们近旁听听他们谈话，后来又走到有神父发言的那一群人面前的时候，她总是怀着关切的心态注视着皮埃尔。对于在外国受过教育的皮埃尔来说，安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的这次晚会，是他在俄国目睹的第一个晚会。他知道，彼得堡的知识分子都在这里集会，他真像个置身于玩具商店的孩童那样，看不胜看，眼花缭乱。他老是惧怕错失他能听到的深奥议论的机会。他亲眼望见在这里集会的人们都现出充满信心而又文雅的表情，他老是等待能听到特别深奥的言论。末了，他向莫里约面前走去。他心里觉得他们的谈话十分有趣，他于是停了下来，等待有机会说出自己的主见，就像年轻人那样，个个喜欢这一着。

CHAPTER III

Chinese



ANNA PAVLOVNA'S soirée was in full swing. The spindles kept up their regular hum on all sides without pause. Except the aunt, beside whom was sitting no one but an elderly lady with a thin, careworn face, who seemed rather out of her element in this brilliant society, the company was broken up into three groups. In one of these, the more masculine, the centre was the abbé; in the other, the group of young people, the chief attractions were the beautiful Princess Ellen, Prince Vassily's daughter, and the little Princess Bolkonsky, with her rosy prettiness, too plump for her years. In the third group were Mortemart and Anna Pavlovna.

The vicomte was a pretty young gentleman with soft features and manners, who obviously regarded himself as a celebrity, but with good breeding modestly allowed the company the benefit of his society. Anna Pavlovna unmistakably regarded him as the chief entertainment she was giving her guests. As a clever maître d'hôtel serves as something superlatively good the piece of beef which no one would have cared to eat seeing it in the dirty kitchen, Anna Pavlovna that evening served up to her guests — first, the vicomte and then the abbé, as something superlatively subtle. In Mortemart's group the talk turned at once on the execution of the duc d'Enghien. The vicomte said that the duc d'Enghien had been lost by his own magnanimity and that there were special reasons for Bonaparte's bitterness against him.

“Ah, come! Tell us about that, vicomte,” said Anna Pavlovna gleefully, feeling that the phrase had a peculiarly Louis Quinze note about it: “Contez-nous cela, vicomte.”

The vicomte bowed and smiled courteously in token of his readiness to obey. Anna Pavlovna made a circle round the vicomte and invited every one to hear his story.

“The vicomte was personally acquainted with his highness,” Anna Pavlovna whispered to one. “The vicomte tells a story perfectly,” she said to another. “How one sees the man of quality,” she said to a third, and the vicomte was presented to the company in the most elegant and advantageous light, like the roast-beef on the hot dish garnished with green parsley.

The vicomte was about to begin his narrative, and he smiled subtly.

“Come over here, chère Hélène,” said Anna Pavlovna to the young beauty who was sitting a little way off, the centre of another group.

Princess Ellen smiled. She got up with the same unchanging smile of the acknowledged beauty with which she had entered the drawing-room. Her white ball-dress adorned with ivy and moss rustled lightly; her white shoulders, glossy hair, and diamonds glittered, as she passed between the men who moved apart to make way for her. Not looking directly at any one, but smiling at every one, as it were courteously allowing to all the right to admire the beauty of her figure, her full shoulders, her bosom and back, which were extremely exposed in the mode of the day, she moved up to Anna Pavlovna, seeming to bring with her the brilliance of the ballroom. Ellen was so lovely that she was not merely free from the slightest shade of coquetry, she seemed on the contrary ashamed of the too evident, too violent and all-conquering influence of her beauty. She seemed to wish but to be unable to soften the effect of her beauty.

“What a beautiful woman!” every one said on seeing her. As though struck by something extraordinary, the vicomte shrugged his shoulders and dropped his eyes, when she seated herself near him and dazzled him too with the same unchanging smile.

“Madame, I doubt my abilities before such an audience,” he said, bowing with a smile.

The princess leaned her plump, bare arm on the table and did not find it necessary to say anything. She waited, smiling. During the vicomte's story she sat upright, looking from time to time at her beautiful, plump arm, which lay with its line changed by pressure on the table, then at her still lovelier bosom, on which she set straight her diamond necklace. Several times she settled the folds of her gown and when the narrative made a sensation upon the audience, she glanced at Anna Pavlovna and at once assumed the expression she saw on the maid-of-honour's face, then she relapsed again into her unvarying smile. After Ellen the little princess too moved away from the tea-table.

“Wait for me, I will take my work,” she said. “Come, what are you thinking of?” she said to Prince Ippolit. “Bring me my reticule.”

The little princess, smiling and talking to every one, at once effected a change of position, and settling down again, gaily smoothed out her skirts.

“Now I'm comfortable,” she said, and begging the vicomte to begin, she took up her work. Prince Ippolit brought her reticule, moved to her side, and bending close over her chair, sat beside her.

Le charmant Hippolyte struck every one as extraordinarily like this sister, and, still more, as being, in spite of the likeness, strikingly ugly. His features were like his sister's, but in her, everything was radiant with joyous life, with the complacent, never-failing smile of youth and life and an extraordinary antique beauty of figure. The brother's face on the contrary was clouded over by imbecility and invariably wore a look of aggressive fretfulness, while he was thin and feebly built. His eyes, his nose, his mouth — everything was, as it were, puckered up in one vacant, bored grimace, while his arms and legs always fell into the most grotesque attitudes.

“It is not a ghost story,” he said, sitting down by the princess and hurriedly fixing his eyeglass in his eye, as though without that instrument he could not begin to speak.

“Why, no, my dear fellow,” said the astonished vicomte, with a shrug.

“Because I detest ghost stories,” said Prince Ippolit in a tone which showed that he uttered the words before he was aware of their meaning.

From the self-confidence with which he spoke no one could tell whether what he said was very clever or very stupid. He was dressed in a dark-green frock coat, breeches of the colour of the cuisse de nymphe effrayée, as he called it, stockings and slippers. The vicomte very charmingly related the anecdote then current, that the duc d'Enghien had secretly visited Paris for the sake of an interview with the actress, Mlle. Georges, and that there he met Bonaparte, who also enjoyed the favours of the celebrated actress, and that, meeting the duc, Napoleon had fallen into one of the fits to which he was subject and had been completely in the duc's power, how the duc had not taken advantage of it, and Bonaparte had in the sequel avenged his magnanimity by the duc's death.

The story was very charming and interesting, especially at the point when the rivals suddenly recognise each other, and the ladies seemed to be greatly excited by it. “Charmant!” said Anna Pavlovna, looking inquiringly at the little princess. “Charming!” whispered the little princess, sticking her needle into her work as an indication that the interest and charm of the story prevented her working. The vicomte appreciated this silent homage, and smiling gratefully, resumed his narrative. But meanwhile Anna Pavlovna, still keeping a watch on the dreadful young man, noticed that he was talking too loudly and too warmly with the abbé and hurried to the spot of danger. Pierre had in fact succeeded in getting into a political conversation with the abbé on the balance of power, and the abbé, evidently interested by the simple-hearted fervour of the young man, was unfolding to him his cherished idea. Both were listening and talking too eagerly and naturally, and Anna Pavlovna did not like it.

“The means? — the balance of power in Europe and the rights of the people,” said the abbé. “One powerful state like Russia — with the prestige of barbarism — need only take a disinterested stand at the head of the alliance that aims at securing the balance of power in Europe, and it would save the world!” “How are you going to get such a balance of power?” Pierre was beginning; but at that moment Anna Pavlovna came up, and glancing severely at Pierre, asked the Italian how he was supporting the climate. The Italian's face changed instantly and assumed the look of offensive, affected sweetness, which was evidently its habitual expression in conversation with women. “I am so enchanted by the wit and culture of the society — especially of the ladies — in which I have had the happiness to be received, that I have not yet had time to think of the climate,” he said. Not letting the abbé and Pierre slip out of her grasp, Anna Pavlovna, for greater convenience in watching them, made them join the bigger group.

At that moment another guest walked into the drawing-room. This was the young Prince Andrey Bolkonsky, the husband of the little princess. Prince Bolkonsky was a very handsome young man, of medium height, with clear, clean-cut features. Everything in his appearance, from his weary, bored expression to his slow, measured step, formed the most striking contrast to his lively little wife. Obviously all the people in the drawing-room were familiar figures to him, and more than that, he was unmistakably so sick of them that even to look at them and to listen to them was a weariness to him. Of all the wearisome faces the face of his pretty wife seemed to bore him most. With a grimace that distorted his handsome face he turned away from her. He kissed Anna Pavlovna's hand, and with half-closed eyelids scanned the whole company.

“You are enlisting for the war, prince?” said Anna Pavlovna.

“General Kutuzov has been kind enough to have me as an aide-de-camp,” said Bolkonsky.

“And Lise, your wife? —”

“She is going into the country.”

“Isn't it too bad of you to rob us of your charming wife?”

“André,” said his wife, addressing her husband in exactly the same coquettish tone in which she spoke to outsiders, “the vicomte has just told us such a story about Mlle. Georges and Bonaparte!”

Prince Andrey scowled and turned away. Pierre, who had kept his eyes joyfully and affectionately fixed on him ever since he came in, went up to him and took hold of his arm. Prince Andrey, without looking round, twisted his face into a grimace of annoyance at any one's touching him, but seeing Pierre's smiling face, he gave him a smile that was unexpectedly sweet and pleasant.

“Why, you! … And in such society too,” he said to Pierre.

“I knew you would be here,” answered Pierre. “I'm coming to supper with you,” he added in an undertone, not to interrupt the vicomte who was still talking. “Can I?”

“Oh no, impossible,” said Prince Andrey, laughing, with a squeeze of his hand giving Pierre to understand that there was no need to ask. He would have said something more, but at that instant Prince Vassily and his daughter got up and the two young men rose to make way for them.

“Pardon me, my dear vicomte,” said Prince Vassily in French, gently pulling him down by his sleeve to prevent him from getting up from his seat. “This luckless fête at the ambassador's deprives me of a pleasure and interrupts you. I am very sorry to leave your enchanting party,” he said to Anna Pavlovna.

His daughter, Princess Ellen, lightly holding the folds of her gown, passed between the chairs, and the smile glowed more brightly than ever on her handsome face. Pierre looked with rapturous, almost frightened eyes at this beautiful creature as she passed them.

“Very lovely!” said Prince Andrey.

“Very,” said Pierre.

As he came up to them, Prince Vassily took Pierre by the arm, and addressing Anna Pavlovna:

“Get this bear into shape for me,” he said. “Here he has been staying with me for a month, and this is the first time I have seen him in society. Nothing's so necessary for a young man as the society of clever women.”

第三章

英文 


安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的晚会像纺车一般动起来了。纺锤从四面匀速地转动，不断地发出轧轧的响声。只有一位痛哭流涕的、面容消瘦的、渐近老境的太太坐在姑母身旁，在这个出色的社交团体中，她显得有点格格不入，除姑母而外，这个社交团体分成了三个小组。在男人占有多数的一个小组中，神父是中心人物。在另外一个小组——年轻人的小组中，美丽的公爵小姐海伦——瓦西里公爵的女儿和那矮小的名叫博尔孔斯卡娅的公爵夫人是中心人物，公爵夫人姿色迷人，面颊绯红，但年纪尚轻，身段显得太肥胖了。在第三个小组中，莫特马尔和安娜·帕夫洛夫娜是中心人物。

子爵心地和善、待人谦让，是个相貌漂亮的年轻人。显然，他认为自己是个名人，但因受过良好教育，是以恭顺地让他所在的社团利用他，摆布他。很明显，安娜·帕夫洛夫娜借助他来款待来客。假如你在污秽的厨房里看见一块牛肉，根本不想吃它，可是一个好管家却会把它端上餐桌，作为一道异常可口的美味；今天晚上安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的做法也是这样，她先向客人献上子爵，然后献上神父，把他们作为异常精致的菜肴。莫特马尔那个小组立刻谈论到杀害昂吉安公爵的情形。子爵说，昂吉安公爵的死因，是舍己为人，而波拿巴的怨恨是有特殊原因的。

“Ah！voyonsContez－nouscela，vicomte，”①安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道，高兴地感到“Contez－nouscela，vicomte”这句话àlaLouisⅩⅤ②的腔调。

①法语：啊，是真的呀！子爵，请把这件事讲给我们听吧。

②法语：像路易十五。


子爵鞠躬以示顺从，彬彬有礼地微露笑容。安娜·帕夫洛夫娜在子爵身边让客人围成一圈，请大家听他讲故事。

“LevicomteaétépersonnellementconnudemonB

seigneur，①”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜轻言细语地对一位来客说道。

“Levicomteestunparfaitconteur，”②她对另一位来客说道。

“CommeonvoitL'hommedelabonnecompagnie，”③她对第三位来客说道。可见子爵像一盘撒上青菜的热气腾腾的干炒牛里脊，从至为优雅和对他至为有利的方面来看，他好像被端上餐桌献给这个团体的人们。

子爵想开始讲故事，脸上流露出机灵的微笑。

“请您到这边来吧，chèreHélène．”④安娜·帕夫洛夫娜对长相俊美的公爵小姐说道。公爵小姐坐在稍远的地方，她是另一个小组的中心人物。

①法语：子爵本人和那位公爵相识。

②法语：子爵是个令人惊讶的善于讲故事的大师。

③法语：一下子就看得出是位上流社会人士。

④法语：亲爱的海伦。


名叫海伦的公爵小姐面带笑容，站了起来，她总是流露着她走进客厅以后就流露的美女般的微笑。她从闪到两边去让路的男人中间走过时，她那点缀着藤蔓和藓苔图案的参加舞会穿的洁白的衣裳发出刷刷的响声，雪白的肩膀、发亮的头发和钻石都熠熠生辉，她一直往前走去，向安娜·帕夫洛夫娜身边走去，两眼不看任何人，但对人人微露笑容，宛如她把欣赏她的身段、丰满的肩头、装束时髦的、完全袒露的胸脯和脊背之美的权利恭恭敬敬地赐予每个人，宛如她给舞蹈晚会增添了光彩。海伦太美了，从她身上看不到半点娇媚的表情，恰恰相反，好像她为自己坚信不疑的、诱惑力足以倾到一切的姿色而深感羞愧，好像她希望减少自己的美貌的诱惑力，可是无能为力。

“Quellebellepersonne！”①凡是见过她的人都这样说。当她在子爵面前坐下，照常地微微发笑，使他容光焕发的时候，仿佛有一种非凡的力量使他大为惊讶，他于是耸了耸肩，垂下了眼帘。

“Madame，jecrainspourmesmoyensdevantunpareil

auditoire．”②他说道，低下头来，嘴角上露出微笑。

公爵小姐把她那裸露的肥胖的手臂的肘部靠在茶几上，她认为无须说话，面露笑容地等待着。在讲故事的当儿，她腰板挺直地坐着，时而瞧瞧轻松地搁在茶几上的肥胖而美丽的手臂，时而瞧瞧更加美丽的胸脯，弄平挂在胸前的钻石项链，她一连几次弄平连衣裙的皱褶，当故事讲到令人产生深刻印象的时候，她回过头来看看安娜·帕夫洛夫娜，立时现出和宫廷女官同样的面部表情，随后便安静下来，脸上浮现出愉快的微笑。矮小的公爵夫人也紧随海伦身后从茶几旁边走过来了。

“Attendez－moi，jevaisprendremonouvrage，”③她说，“Voyons，àquoipensez－vous？”她把脸转向伊波利特公爵说。“Apportez－moimonridicule．”④

①法语：多么迷人的美女啊！

②法语：我的确担心在这样的听众面前会拿不出讲话的本领来。

③法语：请等一下吧，我来拿我的活儿。

④法语：您怎样啦？您想什么啦？请您把我的女用手提包拿来。


公爵夫人微露笑容，和大家交谈的时候，她忽然调动坐位，坐下来，愉快地把衣服弄平，弄整齐。

“现在我觉得挺好，”她说，请人家开始讲故事，一面又做起活儿来了。

伊波利特公爵把女用小提包交给她，跟在她身后走过来，又把安乐椅移到靠近她的地方，便在她身旁坐下来。

这位LecharmantHippolyte①长得俨像他的美丽的妹

妹，真令人诧异，二人虽然相像，但他却十分丑陋，这就更令人诧异了。他的面部和他妹妹的一模一样，但他妹妹那乐观愉快的、洋洋自得、充满青春活力、朝夕不变的微笑和身段超人的古典美，使她容光焕发，倾城倾国；反之，哥哥的长相却显得愚昧昏庸，总是表现出十分自信和不满的神态，他身子既瘦且弱，疲软无力。眼睛、鼻子和口挤在一起，很不匀称，仿佛已变成缺乏表情的、闷闷不乐的鬼脸，而手足笨拙，总是做出生硬的姿势。

“Cen'estpasunehistoirederevenants？”②他说道。他坐在公爵夫人近侧，赶快把那单目眼镜戴在眼上，好像缺少这副工具他就无法开腔似的。

“Maisnon，moncher．”③讲故事的人大吃一惊，耸耸肩，说。

“C'estquejedétesteleshistoiresderevenants．”④伊波利特公爵用这种语调说，从中可以明显地看出，他先说这句话，然后才明了这句话有什么涵义。

①法语：可爱的伊波利特。

②法语：这是不是关于鬼魂的故事？

③法语：亲爱的，根本不是。

④法语：问题就在于，我很讨厌鬼魂的故事。


他说话时过分自信，谁也领悟不出，他说的话究竟是明智呢，抑或是愚昧之谈。他上身穿一件深绿色的燕尾服，正如他自己说的，下身穿一条cuissedenympheeffrayée①颜色的长裤，脚上穿一双长统袜和短靴皮鞋。

Vicomte②十分动听地讲起了当时广为流传的一则趣闻。昂吉安悄然抵达巴黎，去与m－lleGeorge③相会，在那里遇见亦曾博得这位女演员好感的波拿巴，拿破仑在和公爵见面之后，出人意料地昏倒了，他于是陷入公爵的势力范围，公爵并没有藉此机会控制他，但到后来拿破仑却把公爵杀害，以此回报公爵的宽厚。

这故事十分动听，饶有趣味，尤其是讲到这两个情敌忽然认出对方的时候，太太们心中似乎都觉得激动不安。

“Charmant，”④安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道，她一面回过头来用疑问的目光望望矮小的公爵夫人。

①法语：受惊的自然女神的内体。

②法语：子爵。

③法语：名叫乔治的女演员。

④法语：好得很。


“Charmant，”矮小的公爵夫人轻言细语地说，把一根针插在针线活上，好像用以表示，这故事十分有趣，十分动听，简直妨碍她继续做针线活儿。

子爵对这沉默的称赞给予适度的评价，他脸上露出感激的微笑，后又继续讲下去，但是，安娜·帕夫洛夫娜不时地看看使她觉得可怕的那个年轻人，这时她发觉他不知怎的在和神父一同热烈地、高声地谈话，她于是赶快跑去支援那个告急的地方。确实是这样，皮埃尔竟然和那神父谈论政治均衡的事题，看来那神父对这个年轻人的纯朴的热情发生兴趣，他于是在他面前尽量发挥地那自以为是的观点。二人兴致勃勃地、真诚坦率地交谈，聆听对方的意见，这就使得安娜·帕夫洛夫娜有点扫兴了。

“臻致欧洲均势与droitdesgens①，是一种手段，”神甫说道，“只要俄国这个以野蛮残暴著称于世的强国能够大公无私地站出来领导以臻致欧洲均势为目标的同盟，那就可以拯救世界了！”

①法语：民权。


“您究竟怎样去求得这种均衡呢？”皮埃尔本来要开腔，安娜·帕夫洛夫娜这时向他跟前走来，严肃地盯了皮埃尔一眼，问那个意大利人怎样才能熬得住本地的气候，意大利人的脸色忽然变了，现出一副看起来像是和女人交谈时他所惯用的假装得令人觉得委屈的谄媚的表情。

“我有幸加入你们的社会，你们的社会，尤其是妇女社会的那种优越的智慧和教育，真叫我神魂颠倒，因此我哪能事先想到气候呢。”他说。

安娜·帕夫洛夫娜不放走神父和皮埃尔，为着便于观察起见，便叫他们二人一同加入普通小组。

这时候，又有一个来宾走进了客厅。这位新客就是年轻的安德烈·博尔孔斯基公爵——矮小的公爵夫人的丈夫。博尔孔斯基公爵个子不大，是一个非常漂亮的青年，眉清目秀，面部略嫌消瘦。他整个外貌，从困倦而苦闷的目光到徐缓而匀整的脚步，和他那矮小而活泼的妻子恰恰相反，构成强烈的对照。显然，他不仅认识客厅里所有的人，而且他们都使他觉得厌烦，甚至连看看他们，听听他们谈话，他也感到索然无味。在所有这些使他厌恶的面孔中，他的俊俏的妻子的面孔似乎最使他生厌。他装出一副有损于他的美貌的丑相，把脸转过去不看她。他吻了一下安娜·帕夫洛夫娜的手，随后眯缝起眼睛，向众人环顾一遭。

“VousvousenroAlezpourlaguerre，monprince？①”安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道。

“LegénéralKoutouzoff，”博尔孔斯基说道，像法国人一样，说库图佐夫一词时总把重音搁在最后一个音节上，“abiBenvouludemoipouraide－de－camp……”②

“EtLise，votrefemme？”③

“她到农村去。”

“您从我们身边夺去您的漂亮的太太应该吗？”

“Andve，”④他的妻子说道，她对丈夫说话和对旁人说话都用同样娇媚的腔调，“子爵给我们讲了一则关于名叫乔治的小姐和波拿巴的故事，多么动听啊！”

①法语：公爵，您准备去打仗吗？

②法语：库图佐夫将军要我做他的副官。

③法语：您的夫人丽莎呢？

④法语：安德烈。


安德烈公爵眯缝起眼睛，把脸转过去。安德烈公爵走进客厅之后，皮埃尔便很欣悦地、友善地望着他，一刻也没有转移目光，皮埃尔向前走去一把拉住他的手。安德烈公爵没有掉过头来看看，他蹙起额角，做出一副丑相，心里在埋怨碰到他的手臂的人，但当他望见皮埃尔含笑的面庞，他就出乎意外地流露出善意的、愉快的微笑。

“啊，原来如此！……你也跻身于稠人广众的交际场中了！”他对皮埃尔说道。

“我知道您会光临。”皮埃尔答道，“我上您那儿吃夜饭，”

他轻声地补充一句话，省得妨碍子爵讲故事，“行吗？”

“不，不行。”安德烈公爵含笑地说道，一面握住皮埃尔的手，向他示意，要他不必多问。他还想说些什么话，但在这当儿瓦西里公爵随同他的女儿都站起来，退席了，男士们也都站起来让路。

“我亲爱的子爵，您原谅我吧，”瓦西里公爵对法国人说，态度温和地拉住他的衣袖往椅子上按一下，不让他站起身来。

“公使举办的这个不吉利的庆祝会要夺去我的欢乐，并且把您的话儿打断了。离开您这个令人陶醉的晚会，真使我觉得难受。”他对安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道。

他的女儿——名叫海伦的公爵小姐，用手轻轻地提起连衣裙褶，从椅子之间走出来，她那漂亮的脸盘上露出更愉快的微笑，当她从皮埃尔身旁走过时，皮埃尔惊喜地盯着这个美女。

“很标致。”安德烈公爵说。

“很标致。”皮埃尔说。

瓦西里公爵走过时，一把抓住皮埃尔的手，把脸转过来对安娜·帕夫洛夫娜说道。

“请您教导教导这头狗熊吧，”他说道，“他在我家中住了一个月，我头一次在交际场所碰见他了。对一个青年来说，没有任何事物像聪明的女人们的社交团体那样迫切需要的了。”

CHAPTER IV

Chinese


ANNA PAVLOVNA smiled and promised to look after Pierre, who was, she knew, related to Prince Vassily on his father's side. The elderly lady, who had been till then sitting by the aunt, got up hurriedly, and over-took Prince Vassily in the hall. All the affectation of interest she had assumed till now vanished. Her kindly, careworn face expressed nothing but anxiety and alarm.

“What have you to tell me, prince, of my Boris?” she said, catching him in the hall. “I can't stay any longer in Petersburg. Tell me what news am I to take to my poor boy?”

Although Prince Vassily listened reluctantly and almost uncivilly to the elderly lady and even showed signs of impatience, she gave him an ingratiating and appealing smile, and to prevent his going away she took him by the arm. “It is nothing for you to say a word to the Emperor, and he will be transferred at once to the Guards,” she implored.

“Believe me, I will do all I can, princess,” answered Prince Vassily; “but it's not easy for me to petition the Emperor. I should advise you to apply to Rumyantsov, through Prince Galitsin; that would be the wisest course.”

The elderly lady was a Princess Drubetskoy, one of the best families in Russia; but she was poor, had been a long while out of society, and had lost touch with her former connections. She had come now to try and obtain the appointment of her only son to the Guards. It was simply in order to see Prince Vassily that she had invited herself and come to Anna Pavlovna's party, simply for that she had listened to the vicomte's story. She was dismayed at Prince Vassily's words; her once handsome face showed exasperation, but that lasted only one moment. She smiled again and grasped Prince Vassily's arm more tightly.

“Hear what I have to say, prince,” she said. “I have never asked you a favour, and never will I ask one; I have never reminded you of my father's affection for you. But now, for God's sake, I beseech you, do this for my son, and I shall consider you my greatest benefactor,” she added hurriedly. “No, don't be angry, but promise me. I have asked Galitsin; he has refused. Be as kind as you used to be,” she said, trying to smile, though there were tears in her eyes.

“Papa, we are late,” said Princess Ellen, turning her lovely head on her statuesque shoulders as she waited at the door.

But influence in the world is a capital, which must be carefully guarded if it is not to disappear. Prince Vassily knew this, and having once for all reflected that if he were to beg for all who begged him to do so, he would soon be unable to beg for himself, he rarely made use of his influence. In Princess Drubetskoy's case, however, he felt after her new appeal something akin to a conscience-prick. She had reminded him of the truth; for his first step upwards in the service he had been indebted to her father. Besides this, he saw from her manner that she was one of those women—especially mothers—who having once taken an idea into their heads will not give it up till their wishes are fulfilled, and till then are prepared for daily, hourly persistence, and even for scenes. This last consideration made him waver.

“Chère Anna Mihalovna,” he said, with his invariable familiarity and boredom in his voice, “it's almost impossible for me to do what you wish; but to show you my devotion to you, and my reverence for your dear father's memory, I will do the impossible—your son shall be transferred to the Guards; here is my hand on it. Are you satisfied?”

“My dear prince, you are our benefactor. I expected nothing less indeed; I know how good you are—” He tried to get away. “Wait a moment, one word. Once in the Guards …” She hesitated. “You are on friendly terms with Mihail Ilarionovitch Kutuzov, recommend Boris as his adjutant. Then my heart will be set at rest, then indeed …”

Prince Vassily smiled. “That I can't promise. You don't know how Kutuzov has been besieged ever since he has been appointed commander-in-chief. He told me himself that all the Moscow ladies were in league together to give him all their offspring as adjutants.”

“No, promise me; I can't let you off, kind, good friend, benefactor …”

“Papa,” repeated the beauty in the same tone, “we are late.”

“Come, au revoir, good-bye. You see how it is.”

“To-morrow then you will speak to the Emperor?”

“Certainly; but about Kutuzov I can't promise.”

“Yes; do promise, promise, Basile,” Anna Mihalovna said, pursuing him with the smile of a coquettish girl, once perhaps characteristic, but now utterly incongruous with her careworn face. Evidently she had forgotten her age and from habit was bringing out every feminine resource. But as soon as he had gone out her face assumed once more the frigid, artificial expression it had worn all the evening. She went back to the group in which the vicomte was still talking, and again affected to be listening, waiting for the suitable moment to get away, now that her object had been attained.

“And what do you think of this latest farce of the coronation at Milan?” said Anna Pavlovna. “And the new comedy of the people of Lucca and Genoa coming to present their petitions to Monsieur Buonaparte. Monsieur Buonaparte sitting on a throne and granting the petitions of nations! Adorable! Why, it is enough to drive one out of one's senses! It seems as though the whole world had lost its head.”

Prince Andrey smiled sarcastically, looking straight into Anna Pavlovna's face.

“God gives it me; let man beware of touching it,” he said (Bonaparte's words uttered at the coronation). “They say that he was very fine as he spoke those words,” he added, and he repeated the same words in Italian: “Dio me l'ha data, e quai a chi la tocca.”

“I hope that at last,” pursued Anna Pavlovna, “this has been the drop of water that will make the glass run over. The sovereigns cannot continue to endure this man who is a threat to everything.”

“The sovereigns! I am not speaking of Russia,” said the vicomte deferentially and hopelessly. “The sovereigns! … Madame! What did they do for Louis the Sixteenth, for the queen, for Madame Elisabeth? Nothing,” he went on with more animation; “and believe me, they are undergoing the punishment of their treason to the Bourbon cause. The sovereigns! … They are sending ambassadors to congratulate the usurper.”

And with a scornful sigh he shifted his attitude again. Prince Ippolit, who had for a long time been staring through his eyeglass at the vicomte, at these words suddenly turned completely round, and bending over the little princess asked her for a needle, and began showing her the coat-of-arms of the Condé family, scratching it with the needle on the table. He explained the coat-of-arms with an air of gravity, as though the princess had asked him about it. “Staff, gules; engrailed with gules of azure—house of Condé,” he said. The princess listened smiling.

“If Bonaparte remains another year on the throne of France,” resumed the vicomte, with the air of a man who, being better acquainted with the subject than any one else, pursues his own train of thought without listening to other people, “things will have gone too far. By intrigue and violence, by exiles and executions, French society—I mean good society—will have been destroyed for ever, and then…”

He shrugged his shoulders, and made a despairing gesture with his hand. Pierre wanted to say something—the conversation interested him —but Anna Pavlovna, who was keeping her eye on him, interposed.

“And the Emperor Alexander,” she said with the pathetic note that always accompanied all her references to the imperial family, “has declared his intention of leaving it to the French themselves to choose their own form of government. And I imagine there is no doubt that the whole nation, delivered from the usurper, would fling itself into the arms of its lawful king,” said Anna Pavlovna, trying to be agreeable to an émigré and loyalist.

“That's not certain,” said Prince Andrey. “M. le vicomte is quite right in supposing that things have gone too far by now. I imagine it would not be easy to return to the old régime.”

“As far as I could hear,” Pierre, blushing, again interposed in the conversation, “almost all the nobility have gone over to Bonaparte.”

“That's what the Bonapartists assert,” said the vicomte without looking at Pierre. “It's a difficult matter now to find out what public opinion is in France.”

“Bonaparte said so,” observed Prince Andrey with a sarcastic smile. It was evident that he did not like the vicomte, and that though he was not looking at him, he was directin