战争与和平(上)-第332章

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no　more　fear；　and　no　more　thought；　of　death。
In　those　hours　of　solitary　suffering　and　half…delirium　that　he　spent　afterwards；　the　more　he　passed　in　thought　into　that　new　element　of　eternal　love；　revealed　to　him；　the　further　he　unconsciously　travelled　from　earthly　life。　To　love　everything；　every　one；　to　sacrifice　self　always　for　love；　meant　to　love　no　one；　meant　not　to　live　this　earthly　life。　And　the　further　he　penetrated　into　that　element　of　love；　the　more　he　renounced　life；　and　the　more　completely　he　annihilated　that　fearful　barrier　that　love　sets　up　between　life　and　death。　Whenever；　during　that　first　period；　he　remembered　that　he　had　to　die；　he　said　to　himself：　“Well；　so　much　the　better。”
But　after　that　night　at　Mytishtchy；　when　in　his　half…delirium　she；　whom　he　had　longed　for；　appeared　before　him；　and　when　pressing　her　hand　to　his　lips；　he　wept　soft；　happy　tears；　love　for　one　woman　stole　unseen　into　his　heart；　and　bound　him　again　to　life。　And　glad　and　disturbing　thoughts　began　to　come　back　to　him。　Recalling　that　moment　at　the　ambulance　station；　when　he　had　seen　Kuragin；　he　could　not　now　go　back　to　his　feeling　then。　He　was　fretted　by　the　question　whether　he　were　alive。　And　he　dared　not　ask。
His　illness　went　through　its　regular　physical　course；　but　what　Natasha　had　called　“this　change”　had　come　upon　him　two　days　before　Princess　Marya’s　arrival。　It　was　the　last　moral　struggle　between　life　and　death；　in　which　death　gained　the　victory。　It　was　the　sudden　consciousness　that　life；　in　the　shape　of　his　love　for　Natasha；　was　still　precious　to　him；　and　the　last　and　vanquished　onslaught　of　terror　before　the　unknown。
It　happened　in　the　evening。　He　was；　as　usually　after　dinner；　in　a　slightly　feverish　condition；　and　his　thoughts　were　particularly　clear。　Sonya　was　sitting　at　the　table。　He　fell　into　a　doze。　He　felt　a　sudden　sense　of　happiness。
“Ah；　she　has　come　in！”　he　thought。
Natasha　had；　in　fact；　just　come　in　with　noiseless　steps；　and　was　sitting　in　Sonya’s　place。
Ever　since　she　had　been　looking　after　him　he　had　always　felt　this　physical　sense　of　her　presence。　She　was　in　a　low　chair　beside　him；　knitting　a　stocking；　and　sitting　so　as　to　screen　the　light　of　the　candle　from　him。　She　had　learned　to　knit　since　Prince　Andrey　had　once　said　to　her　that　no　one　made　such　a　good　sick…nurse　as　an　old　nurse　who　knitted　stockings；　and　that　there　was　something　soothing　about　knitting。　Her　slender　fingers　moved　the　needles　rapidly　with　a　slight　click；　and　the　dreamy　profile　of　her　drooping　head　could　be　clearly　seen　by　him。　She　made　a　slight　movement；　the　ball　rolled　off　her　knee。　She　started；　glanced　round　at　him；　and；　screening　the　light　with　her　hand；　bent　over　with　a　cautious；　supple；　and　precise　movement；　picked　up　the　ball；　and　sat　back　in　the　same　attitude　as　before。
He　gazed　at　her　without　stirring；　and　saw　that　after　her　movements　she　wanted　to　draw　a　deep　breath；　but　did　not　dare　to；　and　breathed　with　careful　self…restraint。
At　the　Troitsa　monastery　they　had　spoken　of　the　past；　and　he　had　told　her　that　if　he　were　to　live　he　should　thank　God　for　ever　for　his　wound；　which　had　brought　them　together　again；　but　since　then　they　had　never　spoken　of　the　future。
“Could　it　be；　or　could　it　not？”　he　was　wondering　now　as　he　watched　her　and　listened　to　the　slight　steel　click　of　the　needles。　“Can　fate　have　brought　us　together　so　strangely　only　for　me　to　die？　…　Can　the　truth　of　life　have　been　revealed　to　me　only　for　me　to　have　spent　my　life　in　falsity？　I　love　her　more　than　anything　in　the　world！　But　what　am　I　to　do　if　I　love　her？”　he　said；　and　suddenly　he　unconsciously　moaned　from　the　habit　he　had　fallen　into　in　the　course　of　his　sufferings。
Hearing　the　sound；　Natasha　laid　down　her　stocking；　and　bent　down　closer　to　him；　and　suddenly　noticing　his　shining　eyes；　went　up　to　him　with　a　light　step　and　stooped　down。
“You　are　not　asleep？”
“No；　I　have　been　looking　at　you　for　a　long　while。　I　felt　when　you　came　in。　No　one　but　you　gives　me　the　same　soft　peace　…　the　same　light。　I　want　to　weep　with　gladness！”
Natasha　moved　closer　to　him。　Her　face　beamed　with　rapturous　delight。
“Natasha；　I　love　you　too　much！　More　than　everything　in　the　world！”
“And　I？”　She　turned　away　for　a　second。　“Why　too　much？”　she　said。
“Why　too　much？　…　Well；　what　do　you　think；　what　do　you　feel　in　your　heart；　your　whole　heart；　am　I　going　to　live？　What　do　you　think？”
“I　am　sure　of　it；　sure　of　it！”　Natasha　almost　cried　out；　taking　both　his　hands　with　a　passionate　gesture。
He　was　silent　for　a　while。
“How　good　it　would　be！”　And　taking　her　hand；　he　kissed　it。
Natasha　was　happy　and　deeply　stirred；　and　she　recollected　at　once　that　this　must　not　be；　and　that　he　must　have　quiet。
“But　you　are　not　asleep；”　she　said；　subduing　her　joy。　“Try　and　sleep　…　please　do。”
He　pressed　her　hand　and　let　it　go；　and　she　moved　back　to　the　candle　and　sat　down　in　the　same　position　as　before。　Twice　she　glanced　round　at　him；　his　eyes　were　bright　as　she　met　them。　She　set　herself　a　task　on　her　stocking；　and　told　herself　she　would　not　look　round　till　she　had　finished　it。
He　did；　in　fact；　soon　after　shut　his　eyes　and　fall　asleep。　He　did　not　sleep　long；　and　woke　up　suddenly　in　a　cold　sweat　of　alarm。
As　he　fell　asleep　he　was　still　thinking　of　what　he　had　been　thinking　about　all　the　time—of　life　and　of　death。　And　most　of　death。　He　felt　he　was　closer　to　it。
“Love？　What　is　love？”　he　thought。
“Love　hinders　death。　Love　is　life。　All；　all　that　I　understand；　I　understand　only　because　I　love。　All　is；　all　exists　only　because　I　love。　All　is　bound　up　in　love　alone。　Love　is　God；　and　dying　means　for　me　a　particle　of　love；　to　go　back　to　the　universal　and　eternal　source　of　love。”　These　thoughts　seemed　to　him　comforting。　But　they　were　only　thoughts。　Something　was　wanting　in　them；　there　was　something　one…sided　and　personal；　something　intellectual；　they　were　not　self…evident。　And　there　was　uneasiness；　too；　and　obscurity。　He　fell　asleep。
He　dreamed　that　he　was　lying　in　the　very　room　in　which　he　was　lying　in　reality；　but　that　he　was　not　ill；　but　quite　well。　Many　people　of　various　sorts；　indifferent　people　of　no　importance；　were　present。　He　was　talking　and　disputing　with　them　about　some　trivial　matter。　They　seemed　to　be　preparing　to　set　off　somewhere。　Prince　Andrey　had　a　dim　feeling　that　all　this　was　of　no　consequence；　and　that　he　had　other　matters　of　graver　moment　to　think　of；　but　still　he　went　on　uttering　empty　witticisms　of　some　sort　that　surprised　them。　By　degrees　all　these　people　began　to　disappear；　and　the　one　thing　left　was　the　question　of　closing　the　door。　He　got　up　and　went　towards　the　door　to　close　it　and　bolt　it。　Everything　depended　on　whether　he　were　in　time　to　shut　it　or　not。　He　was　going；　he　was　hurrying；　but　his　legs　would　not　move；　and　he　knew　that　he　would　not　have　time　to　shut　the　door；　but　still　he　was　painfully　straining　every　effort　to　do　so。　And　an　agonising　terror　came　upon　him。　And　that　terror　was　the　fear　of　death；　behind　the　door　stood　It。　But　while　he　is　helplessly　and　clumsily　struggling　towards　the　door；　that　something　awful　is　already　pressing　against　the　other　side　of　it；　and　forcing　the　door　open。　Something　not　human—death—is　forcing　the　door　open；　and　he　must　hold　it　to。　He　clutches　at　the　door　with　a　last　straining　effort—to　shut　it　is　impossible；　at　least　to　hold　it—but　his　efforts　are　feeble　and　awkward；　and；　under　the　pressure　of　that　awful　thing；　the　door　opens　and　shuts　again。
Once　more　It　was　pressing　on　the　door　from　without。　His　last；　supernatural　efforts　are　vain；　and　both　leaves　of　the　door　are　noiselessly　opened。　It　comes　in；　and　it　is　death。　And　Prince　Andrey　died。
But　at　the　instant　when　in　his　dream　he　died；　Prince　Andrey　recollected　that　he　was　asleep；　and　at　the　instant　when　he　was　dying；　he　made　an　effort　and　waked　up。
“Yes；　that　was　death。　I　died　and　I　waked　up。　Yes；　death　is　an　awakening；”　flashed　with　sudden　light　into　his　soul；　and　the　veil　that　had　till　then　hidden　the　unknown　was　lifted　before　his　spiritual　vision。　He　felt；　as　it　were；　set　free　from　some　force　that　held　him　in　bondage；　and　was　aware　of　that　strange　lightness　of　being　that　had　not　left　him　since。
When　he　waked　up　in　a　cold　sweat　and　moved　on　the　couch；　Natasha　went　up　and