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第18章

first epilogue-第18章

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you remember how we quarreled? And it was always my fault。 Always

mine。 And what we quarreled about… I don't even remember!〃

  〃Always about the same thing;〃 said Pierre with a smile。 〃Jealo。。。〃

  〃Don't say it! I can't bear it!〃 Natasha cried; and her eyes

glittered coldly and vindictively。 〃Did you see her?〃 she added; after

a pause。

  〃No; and if I had I shouldn't have recognized her。〃

  They were silent for a while。

  〃Oh; do you know? While you were talking in the study I was

looking at you;〃 Natasha began; evidently anxious to disperse the

cloud that had come over them。 〃You are as like him as two peas…

like the boy。〃 (She meant her little son。) 〃Oh; it's time to go to

him。。。。 The milk's come。。。。 But I'm sorry to leave you。〃

  They were silent for a few seconds。 Then suddenly turning to one

another at the same time they both began to speak。 Pierre began with

self…satisfaction and enthusiasm; Natasha with a quiet; happy smile。

Having interrupted one another they both stopped to let the other

continue。

  〃No。 What did you say? Go on; go on。〃

  〃No; you go on; I was talking nonsense;〃 said Natasha。

  Pierre finished what he had begun。 It was the sequel to his

complacent reflections on his success in Petersburg。 At that moment it

seemed to him that he was chosen to give a new direction to the

whole of Russian society and to the whole world。

  〃I only wished to say that ideas that have great results are

always simple ones。 My whole idea is that if vicious people are united

and constitute a power; then honest folk must do the same。 Now

that's simple enough。〃

  〃Yes。〃

  〃And what were you going to say?〃

  〃I? Only nonsense。〃

  〃But all the same?〃

  〃Oh nothing; only a trifle;〃 said Natasha; smilingly still more

brightly。 〃I only wanted to tell you about Petya: today nurse was

coming to take him from me; and he laughed; shut his eyes; and clung

to me。 I'm sure he thought he was hiding。 Awfully sweet! There; now

he's crying。 Well; good…by!〃 and she left the room。



  Meanwhile downstairs in young Nicholas Bolkonski's bedroom a

little lamp was burning as usual。 (The boy was afraid of the dark

and they could not cure him of it。) Dessalles slept propped up on four

pillows and his Roman nose emitted sounds of rhythmic snoring。

Little Nicholas; who had just waked up in a cold perspiration; sat

up in bed and gazed before him with wide…open eyes。 He had awaked from

a terrible dream。 He had dreamed that he and Uncle Pierre; wearing

helmets such as were depicted in his Plutarch; were leading a huge

army。 The army was made up of white slanting lines that filled the air

like the cobwebs that float about in autumn and which Dessalles called

les fils de la Vierge。 In front was Glory; which was similar to

those threads but rather thicker。 He and Pierre were borne along

lightly and joyously; nearer and nearer to their goal。 Suddenly the

threads that moved them began to slacken and become entangled and it

grew difficult to move。 And Uncle Nicholas stood before them in a

stern and threatening attitude。

  〃Have you done this?〃 he said; pointing to some broken sealing wax

and pens。 〃I loved you; but I have orders from Arakcheev and will kill

the first of you who moves forward。〃 Little Nicholas turned to look at

Pierre but Pierre was no longer there。 In his place was his father…

Prince Andrew… and his father had neither shape nor form; but he

existed; and when little Nicholas perceived him he grew faint with

love: he felt himself powerless; limp; and formless。 His father

caressed and pitied him。 But Uncle Nicholas came nearer and nearer

to them。 Terror seized young Nicholas and he awoke。

  〃My father!〃 he thought。 (Though there were two good portraits of

Prince Andrew in the house; Nicholas never imagined him in human

form。) 〃My father has been with me and caressed me。 He approved of

me and of Uncle Pierre。 Whatever he may tell me; I will do it。

Mucius Scaevola burned his hand。 Why should not the same sort of thing

happen to me? I know they want me to learn。 And I will learn。 But

someday I shall have finished learning; and then I will do

something。 I only pray God that something may happen to me such as

happened to Plutarch's men; and I will act as they did。 I will do

better。 Everyone shall know me; love me; and be delighted with me!〃

And suddenly his bosom heaved with sobs and he began to cry。

  〃Are you ill?〃 he heard Dessalles' voice asking。

  〃No;〃 answered Nicholas; and lay back on his pillow。

  〃He is good and kind and I am fond of him!〃 he thought of Dessalles。

〃But Uncle Pierre! Oh; what a wonderful man he is! And my father?

Oh; Father; Father! Yes; I will do something with which even he

would be satisfied。。。。〃


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