战争与和平(上)-第329章

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Often　he　would　say　something　directly　contrary　to　what　he　had　said　before；　but　both　sayings　were　equally　true。　He　liked　talking；　and　talked　well；　adorning　his　speech　with　caressing　epithets　and　proverbial　sayings；　which　Pierre　fancied　he　often　invented　himself。　But　the　great　charm　of　his　talk　was　that　the　simplest　incidents—sometimes　the　same　that　Pierre　had　himself　seen　without　noticing　them—in　his　account　of　them　gained　a　character　of　seemliness　and　solemn　significance。　He　liked　to　listen　to　the　fairy　tales　which　one　soldier　used　to　tell—always　the　same　ones　over　and　over　again—in　the　evenings；　but　most　of　all　he　liked　to　listen　to　stories　of　real　life。　He　smiled　gleefully　as　he　listened　to　such　stories；　putting　in　words　and　asking　questions；　all　aiming　at　bringing　out　clearly　the　moral　beauty　of　the　action　of　which　he　was　told。　Attachments；　friendships；　love；　as　Pierre　understood　them；　Karataev　had　none；　but　he　loved　and　lived　on　affectionate　terms　with　every　creature　with　whom　he　was　thrown　in　life；　and　especially　so　with　man—not　with　any　particular　man；　but　with　the　men　who　happened　to　be　before　his　eyes。　He　loved　his　dog；　loved　his　comrades；　loved　the　French；　loved　Pierre；　who　was　his　neighbour。　But　Pierre　felt　that　in　spite　of　Karataev’s　affectionate　tenderness　to　him　（in　which　he　involuntarily　paid　tribute　to　Pierre’s　spiritual　life）；　he　would　not　suffer　a　moment’s　grief　at　parting　from　him。　And　Pierre　began　to　have　the　same　feeling　towards　Karataev。
To　all　the　other　soldiers　Platon　Karataev　was　the　most　ordinary　soldier；　they　called　him　“little　hawk；”　or　Platosha；　made　good…humoured　jibes　at　his　expense；　sent　him　to　fetch　things。　But　to　Pierre；　such　as　he　appeared　on　that　first　night—an　unfathomable；　rounded…off；　and　everlasting　personification　of　the　spirit　of　simplicity　and　truth—so　he　remained　to　him　for　ever。
Platon　Karataev　knew　nothing　by　heart　except　his　prayers。　When　he　talked；　he　did　not　know　on　beginning　a　sentence　how　he　was　going　to　end　it。
When　Pierre；　struck　sometimes　by　the　force　of　his　remarks；　asked　him　to　repeat　what　he　had　said；　Platon　could　never　recall　what　he　had　said　the　minute　before；　just　as　he　could　never　repeat　to　Pierre　the　words　of　his　favourite　song。　There　came　in；　“My　own　little　birch…tree；”　and　“My　heart　is　sick；”　but　there　was　no　meaning　in　the　words。　He　did　not　understand；　and　could　not　grasp　the　significance　of　words　taken　apart　from　the　sentence。　Every　word　and　every　action　of　his　was　the　expression　of　a　force　uncomprehended　by　him；　which　was　his　life。　But　his　life；　as　he　looked　at　it；　had　no　meaning　as　a　separate　life。　It　had　meaning　only　as　a　part　of　a　whole；　of　which　he　was　at　all　times　conscious。　His　words　and　actions　flowed　from　him　as　smoothly；　as　inevitably；　and　as　spontaneously；　as　the　perfume　rises　from　the　flower。　He　could　not　understand　any　value　or　significance　in　an　act　or　a　word　taken　separately。


Chapter　14
ON　HEARING　from　Nikolay　that　her　brother　was　at　Yaroslavl　with　the　Rostovs；　Princess　Marya；　in　spite　of　her　aunt’s　efforts　to　dissuade　her；　prepared　at　once　to　go　to　him　and　to　go　not　alone；　but　with　her　nephew；　whether　this　were　difficult　or　not；　whether　it　were　possible　or　not；　she　did　not　inquire；　and　did　not　care　to　know：　it　was　her　duty　not　only　to　be　herself　at　the　side　of　her—perhaps　dying—brother；　but　to　do　everything　possible　to　take　his　son　to　him；　and　she　prepared　to　set　off。　If　Prince　Andrey　had　not　himself　communicated　with　her；　Princess　Marya　put　that　down　either　to　his　being　too　weak　to　write；　or　to　his　considering　the　long　journey　too　difficult　and　dangerous　for　her　and　his　son。
Within　a　few　days　Princess　Marya　was　ready　for　the　journey。　Her　equipage　consisted　of　her　immense　travelling　coach　in　which　she　had　come　to　Voronezh；　and　a　covered　trap　and　a　waggon。　She　was　accompanied　by　Mademoiselle　Bourienne；　Nikolushka；　with　his　tutor；　the　old　nurse；　three　maids；　Tihon；　a　young　valet；　and　a　courier；　whom　her　aunt　was　sending　with　her。
To　travel　by　the　usual　route　to　Moscow　was　not　to　be　thought　of；　and　the　circuitous　route　which　Princess　Marya　was　obliged　to　take　by　Lipetsk；　Ryazan；　Vladimir；　and　Shuya　was　very　long；　from　lack　of　posting　horses　difficult；　and　in　the　neighbourhood　of　Ryazan；　where　they　were　told　the　French　had　begun　to　appear；　positively　dangerous。
During　this　difficult　journey；　Mademoiselle　Bourienne；　Dessalle；　and　Princess　Marya’s　servants　were　astonished　at　the　tenacity　of　her　will　and　her　energy。　She　was　the　last　to　go　to　rest；　the　first　to　rise；　and　no　difficulty　could　daunt　her。　Thanks　to　her　activity　and　energy；　which　infected　her　companions；　she　was　towards　the　end　of　the　second　week　close　upon　Yaroslavl。
The　latter　part　of　her　stay　in　Voronezh　had　been　the　happiest　period　in　Princess　Marya’s　life。　Her　love　for　Rostov　was　not　then　a　source　of　torment　or　agitation　to　her。　That　love　had　by　then　filled　her　whole　soul　and　become　an　inseparable　part　of　herself；　and　she　no　longer　struggled　against　it。　Of　late　Princess　Marya　was　convinced—though　she　never　clearly　in　so　many　words　admitted　it　to　herself—that　she　loved　and　was　beloved。　She　had　been　convinced　of　this　by　her　last　interview　with　Nikolay　when　he　came　to　tell　her　that　her　brother　was　with　the　Rostovs。　Nikolay　did　not　by　one　word　hint　at　the　possibility　now　（in　case　of　Prince　Andrey’s　recovery）　of　his　engagement　to　Natasha　being　renewed；　but　Princess　Marya　saw　by　his　face　that　he　knew　and　thought　of　it。　And　in　spite　of　that；　his　attitude　to　her—solicitous；　tender；　and　loving—was　so　far　from　being　changed；　that　he　seemed　overjoyed　indeed　that　now　a　sort　of　kinship　between　him　and　Princess　Marya　allowed　him　to　give　freer　expression　to　his　loving　friendship；　as　Princess　Marya　sometimes　thought　it。　Princess　Marya　knew　that　she　loved　for　the　first　and　last　time　in　her　life；　and　felt　that　she　was　loved；　and　she　was　happy　and　at　peace　in　that　relation。
But　this　happiness　on　one　side　of　her　spiritual　nature　was　far　from　hindering　her　from　feeling　intense　grief　on　her　brother’s　account。　On　the　contrary；　her　spiritual　peace　on　that　side　enabled　her　to　give　herself　more　completely　to　her　feeling　for　her　brother。　This　feeling　was　so　strong　at　the　moment　of　setting　out　from　Voronezh　that　all　her　retinue　were　persuaded；　looking　at　her　careworn；　despairing　face；　that　she　would　certainly　fall　ill　on　the　journey。　But　the　very　difficulties　and　anxieties　of　the　journey；　which　Princess　Marya　tackled　with　such　energy；　saved　her　for　the　time　from　her　sorrow　and　gave　her　strength。
As　is　always　the　case　on　a　journey；　Princess　Marya　thought　of　nothing　but　the　journey　itself；　forgetting　what　was　its　object。　But　on　approaching　Yaroslavl；　when　what　might　await　her—and　not　now　at　the　end　of　many　days；　but　that　very　evening—became　clear　to　her　mind　again；　her　agitation　reached　its　utmost　limits。
When　the　courier；　whom　she　had　sent　on　ahead　to　find　out　in　Yaroslavl　where　the　Rostovs　were　staying；　and　in　what　condition　Prince　Andrey　was；　met　the　great　travelling　coach　at　the　city　gate　he　was　frightened　at　the　terribly　pale　face　that　looked　out　at　him　from　the　window。
“I　have　found　out　everything；　your　excellency：　the　Rostovs　are　staying　in　the　square；　in　the　house　of　a　merchant；　Bronnikov。　Not　far　off；　right　above　the　Volga；”　said　the　courier。
Princess　Marya　looked　into　his　face　with　frightened　inquiry；　not　understanding　why　he　did　not　answer　her　chief　question。　How　was　her　brother？　Mademoiselle　Bourienne　put　this　question　for　the　princess。
“How　is　the　prince？”　she　asked。
“His　excellency　is　staying　in　the　same　house　with　them。”
“He　is　living；　then；”　thought　the　princess；　and　she　softly　asked；　“How　is　he？”
“The　servants　say；　‘No　change。’　”
What　was　meant　by　“no　change”　the　princess　did　not　inquire；　and　with　a　passing；　hardly　perceptible；　glance　at　little　seven…year…old　Nikolushka；　sitting　before　her；　delighted　at　the　sight　of　the　town；　she　bowed　her　head；　and　did　not　raise　it　again　till　the　heavy　carriage—rumbling；　jolting；　and　swaying　from　side　to　side—came　to　a　standstill。　The　carriage…steps　were　let　down　with　a　crash。
The　carriage…door　was　opened。　On　the　left　was　water—a　broad　river；　on　the　right；　entrance　steps。　At　the　entrance　were　people；　ser