战争与和平(上)-第7章

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ons；　you　see　what　a　nice；　good…hearted　fellow　I　am。”　And　Anna　Pavlovna　and　every　one　else　instinctively　felt　this。　Prince　Andrey　had　gone　out　into　the　hall　and　turning　his　shoulders　to　the　footman　who　was　ready　to　put　his　cloak　on　him；　he　listened　indifferently　to　his　wife’s　chatter　with　Prince　Ippolit；　who　had　also　come　out　into　the　hall。　Prince　Ippolit　stood　close　to　the　pretty　princess；　so　soon　to　be　a　mother；　and　stared　persistently　straight　at　her　through　his　eyeglass。
“Go　in；　Annette；　you’ll　catch　cold；”　said　the　little　princess；　saying　good…bye　to　Anna　Pavlovna。　“It　is　settled；”　she　added　in　a　low　voice。
Anna　Pavlovna　had　managed　to　have　a　few　words　with　Liza　about　the　match　she　was　planning　between　Anatole　and　the　sister…in…law　of　the　little　princess。
“I　rely　on　you；　my　dear；”　said　Anna　Pavlovna；　also　in　an　undertone；　“you　write　to　her　and　tell　me　how　the　father　will　view　the　matter。　Au　revoir！”　And　she　went　back　out　of　the　hall。
Prince　Ippolit　went　up　to　the　little　princess　and；　bending　his　face　down　close　to　her；　began　saying　something　to　her　in　a　half　whisper。
Two　footmen；　one　the　princess’s；　the　other　his　own；　stood　with　shawl　and　redingote　waiting　till　they　should　finish　talking；　and　listened　to　their　French　prattle；　incomprehensible　to　them；　with　faces　that　seemed　to　say　that　they　understood　what　was　being　said　but　would　not　show　it。　The　princess；　as　always；　talked　with　a　smile　and　listened　laughing。
“I’m　very　glad　I　didn’t　go　to　the　ambassador’s；”　Prince　Ippolit　was　saying：　“such　a　bore。…A　delightful　evening　it　has　been；　hasn’t　it？　delightful。”
“They　say　the　ball　will　be　a　very　fine　one；”　answered　the　little　princess；　twitching　up　her　downy　little　lip。　“All　the　pretty　women　are　to　be　there。”
“Not　all；　since　you　won’t　be　there；　not　all；”　said　Prince　Ippolit；　laughing　gleefully；　and　snatching　the　shawl　from　the　footman；　shoving　him　aside　as　he　did　so；　he　began　putting　it　on　the　little　princess。　Either　from　awkwardness　or　intentionally—no　one　could　have　said　which—he　did　not　remove　his　arms　for　a　long　while　after　the　shawl　had　been　put　on；　as　it　were　holding　the　young　woman　in　his　embrace。
Gracefully；　but　still　smiling；　she　moved　away；　turned　round　and　glanced　at　her　husband。　Prince　Andrey’s　eyes　were　closed：　he　seemed　weary　and　drowsy。
“Are　you　ready？”　he　asked　his　wife；　avoiding　her　eyes。
Prince　Ippolit　hurriedly　put　on　his　redingote；　which　in　the　latest　mode　hung　down　to　his　heels；　and　stumbling　over　it；　ran　out　on　to　the　steps　after　the　princess；　whom　the　footman　was　assisting　into　the　carriage。
“Princesse；　au　revoir；”　he　shouted；　his　tongue　tripping　like　his　legs。
The　princess；　picking　up　her　gown；　seated　herself　in　the　darkness　of　the　carriage；　her　husband　was　arranging　his　sabre；　Prince　Ippolit；　under　the　pretence　of　assisting；　was　in　every　one’s　way。
“Allow　me；　sir；”　Prince　Andrey　said　in　Russian　drily　and　disagreeably　to　Prince　Ippolit；　who　prevented　his　passing。
“I　expect　you；　Pierre；”　the　same　voice　called　in　warm　and　friendly　tones。
The　postillion　started　at　a　trot；　and　the　carriage　rumbled　away。　Prince　Ippolit　gave　vent　to　a　short；　jerky　guffaw；　as　he　stood　on　the　steps　waiting　for　the　vicomte；　whom　he　had　promised　to　take　home。
“Well；　my　dear　fellow；　your　little　princess　is　very　good…looking；　very　good…looking；”　said　the　vicomte；　as　he　sat　in　the　carriage　with　Ippolit。　“Very　good…looking　indeed；”　he　kissed　his　finger　tips。　“And　quite　French。”
Ippolit　snorted　and　laughed。
“And；　do　you　know；　you　are　a　terrible　fellow　with　that　little　innocent　way　of　yours；”　pursued　the　vicomte。　“I　am　sorry　for　the　poor　husband；　that　officer　boy　who　gives　himself　the　airs　of　a　reigning　prince。”
Ippolit　guffawed　again；　and　in　the　middle　of　a　laugh　articulated：
“And　you　said　that　the　Russian　ladies　were　not　equal　to　the　French　ladies。　You　must　know　how　to　take　them。”
Pierre；　arriving　first；　went　to　Prince　Andrey’s　study；　like　one　of　the　household；　and　at　once　lay　down　on　the　sofa；　as　his　habit　was；　and　taking　up　the　first　book　he　came　upon　in　the　shelf　（it　was　C？sar’s　Commentaries）　he　propped　himself　on　his　elbow；　and　began　reading　it　in　the　middle。
“What　a　shock　you　gave　Mlle。　Scherer！　She’ll　be　quite　ill　now；”　Prince　Andrey　said；　as　he　came　into　the　study　rubbing　his　small　white　hands。
Pierre　rolled　his　whole　person　over　so　that　the　sofa　creaked；　turned　his　eager　face　to　Prince　Andrey；　smiled　and　waved　his　hand　to　him。
“Oh；　that　abbé　was　very　interesting；　only　he’s　got　a　wrong　notion　about　it。…To　my　thinking；　perpetual　peace　is　possible；　but　I　don’t　know　how　to　put　it。…Not　by　means　of　the　balance　of　political　power。…”
Prince　Andrey　was　obviously　not　interested　in　these　abstract　discussions。
“One　can’t　always　say　all　one　thinks　everywhere；　mon　cher。　Come　tell　me；　have　you　settled　on　anything　at　last？　Are　you　going　into　the　cavalry　or　the　diplomatic　service？”　asked　Prince　Andrey；　after　a　momentary　pause。
Pierre　sat　on　the　sofa　with　his　legs　crossed　under　him。
“Can　you　believe　it；　I　still　don’t　know。　I　don’t　like　either。”
“But　you　must　decide　on　something；　you　know　your　father’s　expecting　it。”
At　ten　years　old　Pierre　had　been　sent　with　an　abbé　as　tutor　to　be　educated　abroad；　and　there　he　remained　till　he　was　twenty。　When　he　returned　to　Moscow；　his　father　had　dismissed　the　tutor　and　said　to　the　young　man：　“Now　you　go　to　Petersburg；　look　about　you　and　make　your　choice。　I　agree　to　anything。　Here　is　a　letter　to　Prince　Vassily　and　here　is　money。　Write　and　tell　me　everything；　I　will　help　you　in　everything。”　Pierre　had　been　three　months　already　choosing　a　career　and　had　not　yet　made　his　choice。　It　was　of　this　choice　Prince　Andrey　spoke　to　him　now。　Pierre　rubbed　his　forehead。
“But　he　must　be　a　freemason；”　he　said；　meaning　the　abbé　he　had　seen　that　evening。
“That’s　all　nonsense；”　Prince　Andrey　pulled　him　up　again；　“we’d　better　talk　of　serious　things。　Have　you　been　to　the　Horse　Guards？”
“No；　I　haven’t；　but　this　is　what　struck　me　and　I　wanted　to　talk　to　you　about　it。　This　war　now　is　against　Napoleon。　If　it　were　a　war　for　freedom；　I　could　have　understood　it；　I　would　have　been　the　first　to　go　into　the　army；　but　to　help　England　and　Austria　against　the　greatest　man　in　the　world—that’s　not　right。”
Prince　Andrey　simply　shrugged　his　shoulders　at　Pierre’s　childish　words。　He　looked　as　though　one　really　could　not　answer　such　absurdities。　But　in　reality　it　was　hard　to　find　any　answer　to　this　na？ve　question　other　than　the　answer　Prince　Andrey　made。　“If　every　one　would　only　fight　for　his　own　convictions；　there’d　be　no　war；”　he　said。
“And　a　very　good　thing　that　would　be　too；”　said　Pierre。
Prince　Andrey　smiled　ironically。　“Very　likely　it　would　be　a　good　thing；　but　it　will　never　come　to　pass…”
“Well；　what　are　you　going　to　the　war　for？”　asked　Pierre。
“What　for？　I　don’t　know。　Because　I　have　to。　Besides；　I’m　going…”　he　stopped。　“I’m　going　because　the　life　I　lead　here；　this　life　is—not　to　my　taste！”


Chapter　6
THERE　was　the　rustle　of　a　woman’s　dress　in　the　next　room。　Prince　Andrey　started　up；　as　it　were　pulling　himself　together；　and　his　face　assumed　the　expression　it　had　worn　in　Anna　Pavlovna’s　drawing…room。　Pierre　dropped　his　legs　down　off　the　sofa。　The　princess　came　in。　She　had　changed　her　gown；　and　was　wearing　a　house　dress　as　fresh　and　elegant　as　the　other　had　been。　Prince　Andrey　got　up　and　courteously　set　a　chair　for　her。
“Why　is　it；　I　often　wonder；”　she　began　in　French　as　always；　while　she　hurriedly　and　fussily　settled　herself　in　the　low　chair；　“why　is　it　Annette　never　married？　How　stupid　you　gentlemen　all　are　not　to　have　married　her。　You　must　excuse　me；　but　you　really　have　no　sense　about　women。　What　an　argumentative　person　you　are；　Monsieur　Pierre！”
“I’m　still　arguing　with　your　husband；　I　can’t　make　out　why　he　wants　to　go　to　the　war；”　said　Pierre；　addressing　the　princess　without　any　of　the　affectation　so　common　in　the　attitude　of　a　young　man　to　a　young　woman。
The　princess　shivered。　Clearly　Pierre’s　words　touched　a　tender　spot。
“Ah；　that’s　what　I　say；”　she　said。　“I　can’t　understand；　I　simply　can’t　understand　why　men　can’t　get　on　without　war。　Why　is　it　we　women　want　nothing　of　the　s