战争与和平(上)-第311章

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ff。　But　on　the　seventh　day　he　ate　with　relish　a　piece　of　bread　with　some　tea；　and　the　doctor　observed　that　the　fever　was　going　down。　Prince　Andrey　had　regained　consciousness　in　the　morning。　The　first　night　after　leaving　Moscow　had　been　fairly　warm；　and　Prince　Andrey　had　spent　the　night　in　his　carriage。　But　at　Mytishtchy　the　wounded　man　had　himself　asked　to　be　moved　and　given　tea。　The　pain　caused　by　moving　him　into　the　hut　had　made　Prince　Andrey　groan　aloud　and　lose　consciousness　again。　When　he　had　been　laid　on　his　camp　bedstead；　he　lay　a　long　while　with　closed　eyes　without　moving。　Then　he　opened　his　eyes　and　whispered　softly；　“How　about　the　tea？”　The　doctor　was　struck　by　this　instance　of　consciousness　of　the　little　details　of　daily　life。　He　felt　his　pulse；　and　to　his　surprise　and　dissatisfaction　found　that　the　pulse　was　stronger。　The　doctor’s　dissatisfaction　was　due　to　the　fact　that　he　felt　certain　from　his　experience　that　Prince　Andrey　could　not　live；　and　that　if　he　did　not　die　now；　he　would　only　die　a　little　later　with　even　greater　suffering。　With　Prince　Andrey　was　the　red…nosed　major　of　his　regiment；　Timohin；　who　had　joined　him　in　Moscow　with　a　wound　in　his　leg　received　at　the　same　battle　of　Borodino。　The　doctor；　the　prince’s　valet；　and　coachman；　and　two　orderlies　were　in　charge　of　them。
Tea　was　given　to　Prince　Andrey。　He　drank　it　eagerly；　looking　with　feverish　eyes　at　the　door　in　front　of　him；　as　though　trying　to　understand　and　recall　something。
“No　more。　Is　Timohin　here？”　he　asked。
Timohin　edged　along　the　bench　towards　him。
“I　am　here；　your　excellency。”
“How　is　your　wound？”
“Mine？　All　right。　But　how　are　you？”
Prince　Andrey　pondered　again；　as　though　he　were　recollecting　something。
“Could　not　one　get　a　book　here？”　he　said。
“What　book？”
“The　Gospel！　I　haven’t　one。”
The　doctor　promised　to　get　it；　and　began　questioning　the　prince　about　his　symptoms。　Prince　Andrey　answered　all　the　doctor’s　questions　rationally；　though　reluctantly；　and　then　said　that　he　wanted　a　support　put　under　him；　as　it　was　uncomfortable　and　very　painful　for　him　as　he　was。　The　doctor　and　the　valet　took　off　the　military　cloak；　with　which　he　was　covered；　and　puckering　up　their　faces　at　the　sickly　smell　of　putrefying　flesh　that　came　from　the　wound；　began　to　look　into　the　terrible　place。　The　doctor　was　very　much　troubled　about　something；　he　made　some　changes；　turning　the　wounded　man　over　so　that　he　groaned　again；　and　again　lost　consciousness　from　the　pain　when　they　turned　him　over。　He　began　to　be　delirious；　and　kept　asking　for　the　book　to　be　brought　and　to　be　put　under　him。　“What　trouble　would　it　be　to　you？”　he　kept　saying。　“I　haven’t　it；　get　it　me；　please；—put　it　under　me　just　for　a　minute；”　he　said　in　a　piteous　voice。
The　doctor　went　outside　to　wash　his　hands。
“Ah；　you　have　no　conscience；　you　fellows　really；”　the　doctor　was　saying　to　the　valet；　who　was　pouring　water　over　his　hands。　“For　one　minute　I　didn’t　look　after　you。　Why；　it’s　such　suffering　that　I　wonder　how　he　bears　it。”
“I　thought　we　did　put　it　under　him　right；　by　the　Lord　Jesus　Christ；”　said　the　valet。
Prince　Andrey　had　for　the　first　time　grasped　where　he　was　and　what　was　happening　to　him；　and　had　recollected　that　he　had　been　wounded　and　how　at　the　moment　when　the　carriage　had　stopped　at　Mytishtchy；　and　he　had　asked　to　be　taken　into　the　hut。　Losing　consciousness　again　from　the　pain；　he　came　fully　to　himself　once　more　in　the　hut　while　he　was　drinking　tea。　And　thereupon　again；　going　over　in　his　memory　all　that　had　happened　to　him；　the　most　vivid　picture　in　his　mind　was　of　that　moment　at　the　ambulance　station　when　at　the　sight　of　the　sufferings　of　a　man　he　had　not　liked；　those　new　thoughts　had　come　to　him　with　such　promise　of　happiness。　And　those　thoughts—though　vague　now　and　shapeless—took　possession　of　his　soul　again。　He　remembered　that　he　had　now　some　new　happiness；　and　that　that　happiness　had　something　to　do　with　the　Gospel。　That　was　why　he　asked　for　the　Gospel。　But　the　position　he　had　been　laid　in；　without　support　under　his　wound；　and　the　new　change　of　position；　put　his　thoughts　to　confusion　again；　and　it　was　only　in　the　complete　stillness　of　the　night　that　he　came　to　himself　again　for　the　third　time。　Every　one　was　asleep　around　him。　A　cricket　was　chirping　across　the　passage；　some　one　was　shouting　and　singing　in　the　street；　cockroaches　were　rustling　over　the　table；　the　holy　images　and　the　walls；　a　big　fly　flopped　on　his　pillow　and　about　the　tallow　candle　that　stood　with　a　great；　smouldering　wick　beside　him。
His　soul　was　not　in　its　normal　state。　A　man　in　health　usually　thinks；　feels　and　remembers　simultaneously　an　immense　number　of　different　things；　but　he　has　the　power　and　the　faculty　of　selecting　one　series　of　ideas　or　phenomena　and　concentrating　all　his　attention　on　that　series。　A　man　in　health　can　at　the　moment　of　the　profoundest　thought　break　off　to　say　a　civil　word　to　any　one　who　comes　in；　and　then　return　again　to　his　thoughts。　Prince　Andrey’s　soul　was　not　in　a　normal　condition　in　this　respect。　All　the　faculties　of　his　soul　were　clearer　and　more　active　than　ever；　but　they　acted　apart　from　his　will。　The　most　diverse　ideas　and　images　had　possession　of　his　mind　at　the　same　time。　Sometimes　his　brain　suddenly　began　to　work；　and　with　a　force；　clearness；　and　depth　with　which　it　had　never　been　capable　of　working　in　health。　But　suddenly　the　train　of　thought　broke　off　in　the　midst；　to　be　replaced　by　some　unexpected　image；　and　the　power　to　go　back　to　it　was　wanting。　“Yes；　a　new　happiness　was　revealed　to　me；　that　could　not　be　taken　away　from　man；”　he　thought；　as　he　lay　in　the　still；　half…dark　hut；　gazing　before　him　with　feverishly　wide；　staring　eyes。　“Happiness　beyond　the　reach　of　material　forces；　outside　material；　external　influences　on　man；　the　happiness　of　the　soul　alone；　the　happiness　of　love！　To　feel　it　is　in　every　man’s　power；　but　God　alone　can　know　it　and　ordain　it。　But　how　did　God　ordain　this　law？　Why　the　Son？　…”　And　all　at　once　that　train　of　thought　broke　off；　and　Prince　Andrey　heard　（not　knowing　whether　in　delirium　or　in　actual　fact　he　heard　it）　a　kind　of　soft；　whispering　voice；　incessantly　beating　time：　“Piti…pitt…piti；”　and　then　“i…ti…ti；”　and　again；　“ipiti…piti…piti；”　and　again　“i…ti…ti。”　And　to　the　sound　of　this　murmuring　music　Prince　Andrey　felt　as　though　a　strange；　ethereal　edifice　of　delicate　needles　or　splinters　were　being　raised　over　his　face；　over　the　very　middle　of　it。　He　felt　that　（hard　though　it　was　for　him）　he　must　studiously　preserve　his　balance　that　this　rising　edifice　might　not　fall　to　pieces；　but　yet　it　was　falling　to　pieces；　and　slowly　rising　up　again　to　the　rhythmic　beat　of　the　murmuring　music。
“It　is　stretching　out；　stretching　out；　and　spreading　and　stretching　out！”　Prince　Andrey　said　to　himself。　While　he　listened　to　the　murmur　and　felt　that　edifice　of　needles　stretching　out；　and　rising　up；　Prince　Andrey　saw　by　glimpses　a　red　ring　of　light　round　the　candle；　and　heard　the　rustling　of　the　cockroaches　and　the　buzzing　of　the　fly　as　it　flopped　against　his　pillow　and　his　face。　And　every　time　the　fly　touched　his　face；　it　gave　him　a　stinging　sensation；　but　yet　it　surprised　him　that　though　the　fly　struck　him　in　the　very　centre　of　the　rising　edifice　it　did　not　shatter　it。　But；　apart　from　all　this；　there　was　one　other　thing　of　importance。　That　was　the　white　thing　at　the　door；　that　was　a　statue　of　the　sphinx；　which　oppressed　him　too
“But　perhaps　it　is　my　shirt　on　the　table；”　thought　Prince　Andrey；　“and　that’s　my　legs；　and　that’s　the　door；　but　why　this　straining　and　moving　and　piti…piti…piti　and　ti…ti　and　piti…piti…piti　…　Enough；　cease；　be　still；　please；”　Prince　Andrey　besought　some　one　wearily。　And　all　at　once　thought　and　feeling　floated　to　the　surface　again　with　extraordinary　clearness　and　force。
“Yes；　love　（he　thought　again　with　perfect　distinctness）；　but　not　that　love　that　loves　for　something；　to　gain　something；　or　because　of　something；　but　that　love　that　I　felt　for　the　first　time；　when　dying；　I　saw　my　enemy　and　yet　loved　him。　I　knew　that　feeling　of　love　which　is　the　very　essence　of　the　soul；　for　which　no　object　is　needed。　And　I　know　that　blissful　feeling　now　too。　To　love　one’s　neighbours；　to　love　one’s　enemies。