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Mon, 26 Jan 2015 20:22:29 GMT

Brad James's Girlfriend

Reply-to:- well you should know your a first class A/H
I would hope all would know.  It is basic anatomy.   I have been called much worse by much better so...eh.
Regardless of the class of my a/h if you really think Bradley and Angel were never seeing each other just based on the twitter situation with Bradley Angel and the rest of the cast you are a fool.  
There is no reason to represent dysfunction where there is none and considering all these ppl were at the very least friends...them all seeming to shun Angel represents dysfunction.  Now I doubt they are shunning her and I just think they don't want to be in the middle of Bradley /Angel and what was the other person's shit.  

Mon, 26 Jan 2015 20:19:44 GMT

Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s Girlfriend

Just because you have the most wins in any sport doesnt mean you are gonna win the Championship.

Mon, 26 Jan 2015 20:18:24 GMT

Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s Girlfriend

The soph is me...logged out again...

Mon, 26 Jan 2015 20:18:10 GMT

Derek Jeter's Fan Forum

FORD ended contracts with Derek; there were issues about vehicles and Ford refused to assume appropriate responsibility.
Ergo, that leaves General Motors and they have 8-passenger vehicle, as Derek and his older New York wife will need one when all the kids are with them.

Mon, 26 Jan 2015 20:15:02 GMT

Derek Jeter's Fan Forum

There won't be a Ferrari NOR a Mercedez in Derek's life now, not with all the children they are adopting. They won't fit in any of those vehicles. Good old General Motors is great, and Michigan is where Derek grew up.
Do you think he can go home to Michigan and look them in the eyes owning the foreign cars you claim? It just doesn't work that way. Michigan expects Derek Jeter to buy American automobiles. Wake up!!!

Mon, 26 Jan 2015 20:14:17 GMT

Derek Jeter's Fan Forum

Yes he has had that blue Ferrari awhile and every once in awhile you see a tweet about it. So he is in Tampa.

Mon, 26 Jan 2015 20:12:57 GMT

Derek Jeter's Fan Forum

The Ferrari belonged to a Steinbrenner. If you had a clue, you'd know how foolish the misinformation on this blog makes you appear.

Mon, 26 Jan 2015 20:11:44 GMT

Derek Jeter's Fan Forum

Got it Cit. Thanks for the info. I sort of knew he was into other cars but I'm so used to seeing him in a Mercedes that I'd forgotten he even drove a Ferrari.

Mon, 26 Jan 2015 20:09:18 GMT

Derek Jeter's Fan Forum

,l,;,.,‘If you have nothing better to do, Count [or Prince],
and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor
invalid is not too terrible, I shall be very charmed to see
you tonight between 7 and 10- Annette Scherer.’
‘Heavens! what a virulent attack!’ replied the prince,
not in the least disconcerted by this reception. He had just
entered, wearing an embroidered court uniform, knee
breeches, and shoes, and had stars on his breast and a
serene expression on his flat face. He spoke in that refined
French in which our grandfathers not only spoke but
thought, and with the gentle, patronizing intonation
natural to a man of importance who had grown old in
society and at court. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed
her hand, presenting to her his bald, scented, and shining
head, and complacently seated himself on the sofa.
‘First of all, dear friend, tell me how you are. Set your
friend’s mind at rest,’ said he without altering his tone,
beneath the politeness and affected sympathy of which
indifference and even irony could be discerned.
‘Can one be well while suffering morally? Can one be
calm in times like these if one has any feeling?’ said Anna
Pavlovna. ‘You are staying the whole evening, I hope?’ War and Peace
5 of 2882
‘And the fete at the English ambassador’s? Today is
Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there,’ said the
prince. ‘My daughter is coming for me to take me there.’
‘I thought today’s fete had been canceled. I confess all
these festivities and fireworks are becoming wearisome.’
‘If they had known that you wished it, the
entertainment would have been put off,’ said the prince,
who, like a wound-up clock, by force of habit said things
he did not even wish to be believed.
‘Don’t tease! Well, and what has been decided about
Novosiltsev’s dispatch? You know everything.’
‘What can one say about it?’ replied the prince in a
cold, listless tone. ‘What has been decided? They have
decided that Buonaparte has burnt his boats, and I believe
that we are ready to burn ours.’
Prince Vasili always spoke languidly, like an actor
repeating a stale part. Anna Pavlovna Scherer on the
contrary, despite her forty years, overflowed with
animation and impulsiveness. To be an enthusiast had
become her social vocation and, sometimes even when
she did not feel like it, she became enthusiastic in order
not to disappoint the expectations of those who knew her.
The subdued smile which, though it did not suit her faded
features, always played round her lips expressed, as in a War and Peace
6 of 2882
spoiled child, a continual consciousness of her charming
defect, which she neither wished, nor could, nor
considered it necessary, to correct.
In the midst of a conversation on political matters
Anna Pavlovna burst out:
‘Oh, don’t speak to me of Austria. Perhaps I don’t
understand things, but Austria never has wished, and does
not wish, for war. She is betraying us! Russia alone must
save Europe. Our gracious sovereign recognizes his high
vocation and will be true to it. That is the one thing I have
faith in! Our good and wonderful sovereign has to
perform the noblest role on earth, and he is so virtuous
and noble that God will not forsake him. He will fulfill his
vocation and crush the hydra of revolution, which has
become more terrible than ever in the person of this
murderer and villain! We alone must avenge the blood of
the just one.... Whom, I ask you, can we rely on?...
England with her commercial spirit will not and cannot
understand the Emperor Alexander’s loftiness of soul. She
has refused to evacuate Malta. She wanted to find, and
still seeks, some secret motive in our actions. What
answer did Novosiltsev get? None. The English have not
understood and cannot understand the self-abnegation of
our Emperor who wants nothing for himself, but only War and Peace
7 of 2882
desires the good of mankind. And what have they
promised? Nothing! And what little they have promised
they will not perform! Prussia has always declared that
Buonaparte is invincible, and that all Europe is powerless
before him.... And I don’t believe a word that Hardenburg
says, or Haugwitz either. This famous Prussian neutrality
is just a trap. I have faith only in God and the lofty destiny
of our adored monarch. He will save Europe!’
She suddenly paused, smiling at her own impetuosity.
‘I think,’ said the prince with a smile, ‘that if you had
been sent instead of our dear Wintzingerode you would
have captured the King of Prussia’s consent by assault.
You are so eloquent. Will you give me a cup of tea?’
‘In a moment. A propos,’ she added, becoming calm
again, ‘I am expecting two very interesting men tonight,
le Vicomte de Mortemart, who is connected with the
Montmorencys through the Rohans, one of the best
French families. He is one of the genuine emigres, the
good ones. And also the Abbe Morio. Do you know that
profound thinker? He has been received by the Emperor.
Had you heard?’
‘I shall be delighted to meet them,’ said the prince.
‘But tell me,’ he added with studied carelessness as if it
had only just occurred to him, though the question he was War and Peace
8 of 2882
about to ask was the chief motive of his visit, ‘is it true
that the Dowager Empress wants Baron Funke to be
appointed first secretary at Vienna? The baron by all
accounts is a poor creature.’
Prince Vasili wished to obtain this post for his son, but
others were trying through the Dowager Empress Marya
Fedorovna to secure it for the baron.
Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to indicate that
neither she nor anyone else had a right to criticize what
the Empress desired or was pleased with.
‘Baron Funke has been recommended to the Dowager
Empress by her sister,’ was all she said, in a dry and
mournful tone.
As she named the Empress, Anna Pavlovna’s face
suddenly assumed an expression of profound and sincere
devotion and respect mingled with sadness, and this
occurred every time she mentioned her illustrious
patroness. She added that Her Majesty had deigned to
show Baron Funke beaucoup d’estime, and again her face
clouded over with sadness.
The prince was silent and looked indifferent. But, with
the womanly and courtierlike quickness and tact habitual
to her, Anna Pavlovna wished both to rebuke him (for
daring to speak he had done of a man recommended to the War and Peace
9 of 2882
Empress) and at the same time to console him, so she
said:
‘Now about your family. Do you know that since your
daughter came out everyone has been enraptured by her?
They say she is amazingly beautiful.’
The prince bowed to signify his respect and gratitude.
‘I often think,’ she continued after a short pause,
drawing nearer to the prince and smiling amiably at him
as if to show that political and social topics were ended
and the time had come for intimate conversation- ‘I often
think how unfairly sometimes the joys of life are
distributed. Why has fate given you two such splendid
children? I don’t speak of Anatole, your youngest. I don’t
like him,’ she added in a tone admitting of no rejoinder
and raising her eyebrows. ‘Two such charming children.
And really you appreciate them less than anyone, and so
you don’t deserve to have them.’
And she smiled her ecstatic smile.
‘I can’t help it,’ said the prince. ‘Lavater would have
said I lack the bump of paternity.’
‘Don’t joke; I mean to have a serious talk with you. Do
you know I am dissatisfied with your younger son?
Between ourselves’ (and her face assumed its melancholy War and Peace
10 of 2882
expression), ‘he was mentioned at Her Majesty’s and you
were pitied...’
The prince answered nothing, but she looked at him
significantly, awaiting a reply. He frowned.
‘What would you have me do?’ he said at last. ‘You
know I did all a father could for their education, and they
have both turned out fools. Hippolyte is at least a quiet
fool, but Anatole is an active one. That is the only
difference between them.’ He said this smiling in a way
more natural and animated than usual, so that the wrinkles
round his mouth very clearly revealed something
unexpectedly coarse and unpleasant.
‘And why are children born to such men as you? If you
were not a father there would be nothing I could reproach
you with,’ said Anna Pavlovna, looking up pensively.
‘I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess
that my children are the bane of my life. It is the cross I
have to bear. That is how I explain it to myself. It can’t be
helped!’
He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel
fate by a gesture. Anna Pavlovna meditated.
‘Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal
son Anatole?’ she asked. ‘They say old maids have a
mania for matchmaking, and though I don’t feel that War and Peace
11 of 2882
weakness in myself as yet,I know a little person who is
very unhappy with her father. She is a relation of yours,
Princess Mary Bolkonskaya.’
Prince Vasili did not reply, though, with the quickness
of memory and perception befitting a man of the world,
he indicated by a movement of the head that he was
considering this information.
‘Do you know,’ he said at last, evidently unable to
check the sad current of his thoughts, ‘that Anatole is
costing me forty thousand rubles a year? And,’ he went
on after a pause, ‘what will it be in five years, if he goes
on like this?’ Presently he added: ‘That’s what we fathers
have to put up with.... Is this princess of yours rich?’
‘Her father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the
country. He is the well-known Prince Bolkonski who had
to retire from the army under the late Emperor, and was
nicknamed ‘the King of Prussia.’ He is very clever but
eccentric, and a bore. The poor girl is very unhappy. She
has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise
Meinen lately. He is an aide-de-camp of Kutuzov’s and
will be here tonight.’
‘Listen, dear Annette,’ said the prince, suddenly taking
Anna Pavlovna’s hand and for some reason drawing it
downwards. ‘Arrange that affair for me and I shall always War and Peace
12 of 2882
be your most devoted slave- slafe wigh an f, as a village
elder of mine writes in his reports. She is rich and of good
family and that’s all I want.’
And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to
him, he raised the maid of honor’s hand to his lips, kissed
it, and swung it to and fro as he lay back in his armchair,
looking in another direction.
‘Attendez,’ said Anna Pavlovna, reflecting, ‘I’ll speak
to Lise, young Bolkonski’s wife, this very evening, and
perhaps the thing can be arranged. It shall be on your
family’s behalf that I’ll start my apprenticeship as old
maid.’ War and Peace
13 of 2882
Chapter II
Anna Pavlovna’s drawing room was gradually filling.
The highest Petersburg society was assembled there:
people differing widely in age and character but alike in
the social circle to which they belonged. Prince Vasili’s
daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her father to
the ambassador’s entertainment; she wore a ball dress and
her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess
Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de
Petersbourg,* was also there. She had been married
during the previous winter, and being pregnant did not go
to any large gatherings, but only to small receptions.
Prince Vasili’s son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart,
whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others
had also come.
*The most fascinating woman in Petersburg.
To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, ‘You have
not yet seen my aunt,’ or ‘You do not know my aunt?’
and very gravely conducted him or her to a little old lady,
wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who had come
sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began
to arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to War and Peace
14 of 2882
her aunt, Anna Pavlovna mentioned each one’s name and
then left them.
Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this
old aunt whom not one of them knew, not one of them
wanted to know, and not one of them cared about; Anna
Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful and
solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to
each of them in the same words, about their health and her
own, and the health of Her Majesty, ‘who, thank God,
was better today.’ And each visitor, though politeness
prevented his showing impatience, left the old woman
with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious
duty and did not return to her the whole evening.
The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some
work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little
upper lip, on which a delicate dark down was just
perceptible, was too short for her teeth, but it lifted all the
more sweetly, and was especially charming when she
occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is
always the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her
defect- the shortness of her upper lip and her half-open
mouth- seemed to be her own special and peculiar form of
beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of this pretty
young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life War and Peace
15 of 2882
and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men
and dull dispirited young ones who looked at her, after
being in her company and talking to her a little while, felt
as if they too were becoming, like her, full of life and
health. All who talked to her, and at each word saw her
bright smile and the constant gleam of her white teeth,
thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that
day.
The little princess went round the table with quick,
short, swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily
spreading out her dress sat down on a sofa near the silver
samovar, as if all she was doing was a pleasure to herself
and to all around her. ‘I have brought my work,’ said she
in French, displaying her bag and addressing all present.
‘Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked
trick on me,’ she added, turning to her hostess. ‘You
wrote that it was to be quite a small reception, and just see
how badly I am dressed.’ And she spread out her arms to
show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, dainty gray dress,
girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast.
‘Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier
than anyone else,’ replied Anna Pavlovna.
‘You know,’ said the princess in the same tone of
voice and still in French, turning to a general, ‘my War and Peace
16 of 2882
husband is deserting me? He is going to get himself
killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?’ she added,
addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an
answer she turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful
Helene.
‘What a delightful woman this little princess is!’ said
Prince Vasili to Anna Pavlovna.
One of the next arrivals was a stout, heavily built
young man with close-cropped hair, spectacles, the lightcolored
breeches fashionable at that time, a very high
ruffle, and a brown dress coat. This stout young man was
an illegitimate son of Count Bezukhov, a well-known
grandee of Catherine’s time who now lay dying in
Moscow. The young man had not yet entered either the
military or civil service, as he had only just returned from
abroad where he had been educated, and this was his first
appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with
the nod she accorded to the lowest hierarchy in her
drawing room. But in spite of this lowest-grade greeting,
a look of anxiety and fear, as at the sight of something too
large and unsuited to the place, came over her face when
she saw Pierre enter. Though he was certainly rather
bigger than the other men in the room, her anxiety could
only have reference to the clever though shy, but War and Peace
17 of 2882
observant and natural, expression which distinguished
him from everyone else in that drawing room.
‘It is very good of you, Monsieur Pierre, to come and
visit a poor invalid,’ said Anna Pavlovna, exchanging an
alarmed glance with her aunt as she conducted him to her.
Pierre murmured something unintelligible, and
continued to look round as if in search of something. On
his way to the aunt he bowed to the little princess with a
pleased smile, as to an intimate acquaintance.
Anna Pavlovna’s alarm was justified, for Pierre turned
away from the aunt without waiting to hear her speech
about Her Majesty’s health. Anna Pavlovna in dismay
detained him with the words: ‘Do you know the Abbe
Morio? He is a most interesting man.’
‘Yes, I have heard of his scheme for perpetual peace,
and it is very interesting but hardly feasible.’
‘You think so?’ rejoined Anna Pavlovna in order to say
something and get away to attend to her duties as hostess.
But Pierre now committed a reverse act of impoliteness.
First he had left a lady before she had finished speaking to
him, and now he continued to speak to another who
wished to get away. With his head bent, and his big feet
spread apart, he began explaining his reasons for thinking
the abbe’s plan chimerical. War and Peace
18 of 2882
‘We will talk of it later,’ said Anna Pavlovna with a
smile.
And having got rid of this young man who did not
know how to behave, she resumed her duties as hostess
and continued to listen and watch, ready to help at any
point where the conversation might happen to flag. As the
foreman of a spinning mill, when he has set the hands to
work, goes round and notices here a spindle that has
stopped or there one that creaks or makes more noise than
it should, and hastens to check the machine or set it in
proper motion, so Anna Pavlovna moved about her
drawing room, approaching now a silent, now a too-noisy
group, and by a word or slight rearrangement kept the
conversational machine in steady, proper, and regular
motion. But amid these cares her anxiety about Pierre was
evident. She kept an anxious watch on him when he
approached the group round Mortemart to listen to what
was being said there, and again when he passed to another
group whose center was the abbe.
Pierre had been educated abroad, and this reception at
Anna Pavlovna’s was the first he had attended in Russia.
He knew that all the intellectual lights of Petersburg were
gathered there and, like a child in a toyshop, did not know
which way to look, afraid of missing any clever War and Peace
19 of 2882
conversation that was to be heard. Seeing the selfconfident
and refined expression on the faces of those
present he was always expecting to hear something very
profound. At last he came up to Morio. Here the
conversation seemed interesting and he stood waiting for
an opportunity to express his own views, as young people
are fond of doing. War and Peace
20 of 2882
Chapter III
Anna Pavlovna’s reception was in full swing. The
spindles hummed steadily and ceaselessly on all sides.
With the exception of the aunt, beside whom sat only one
elderly lady, who with her thin careworn face was rather
out of place in this brilliant society, the whole company
had settled into three groups. One, chiefly masculine, had
formed round the abbe. Another, of young people, was
grouped round the beautiful Princess Helene, Prince
Vasili’s daughter, and the little Princess Bolkonskaya,
very pretty and rosy, though rather too plump for her age.
The third group was gathered round Mortemart and Anna
Pavlovna.
The vicomte was a nice-looking young man with soft
features and polished manners, who evidently considered
himself a celebrity but out of politeness modestly placed
himself at the disposal of the circle in which he found
himself. Anna Pavlovna was obviously serving him up as
a treat to her guests. As a clever maitre d’hotel serves up
as a specially choice delicacy a piece of meat that no one
who had seen it in the kitchen would have cared to eat, so
Anna Pavlovna served up to her guests, first the vicomte War and Peace
21 of 2882
and then the abbe, as peculiarly choice morsels. The
group about Mortemart immediately began discussing the
murder of the Duc d’Enghien. The vicomte said that the
Duc d’Enghien had perished by his own magnanimity,
and that there were particular reasons for Buonaparte’s
hatred of him.
‘Ah, yes! Do tell us all about it, Vicomte,’ said Anna
Pavlovna, with a pleasant feeling that there was
something a la Louis XV in the sound of that sentence:
‘Contez nous cela, Vicomte.’
The vicomte bowed and smiled courteously in token of
his willingness to comply. Anna Pavlovna arranged a
group round him, inviting everyone to listen to his tale.
‘The vicomte knew the duc personally,’ whispered
Anna Pavlovna to of the guests. ‘The vicomte is a
wonderful raconteur,’ said she to another. ‘How evidently
he belongs to the best society,’ said she to a third; and the
vicomte was served up to the company in the choicest and
most advantageous style, like a well-garnished joint of
roast beef on a hot dish.
The vicomte wished to begin his story and gave a
subtle smile. War and Peace
22 of 2882
‘Come over here, Helene, dear,’ said Anna Pavlovna to
the beautiful young princess who was sitting some way
off, the center of another group.
The princess smiled. She rose with the same
unchanging smile with which she had first entered the
room- the smile of a perfectly beautiful woman. With a
slight rustle of her white dress trimmed with moss and
ivy, with a gleam of white shoulders, glossy hair, and
sparkling diamonds, she passed between the men who
made way for her, not looking at any of them but smiling
on all, as if graciously allowing each the privilege of
admiring her beautiful figure and shapely shoulders, back,
and bosom- which in the fashion of those days were very
much exposed- and she seemed to bring the glamour of a
ballroom with her as she moved toward Anna Pavlovna.
Helene was so lovely that not only did she not show any
trace of coquetry, but on the contrary she even appeared
shy of her unquestionable and all too victorious beauty.
She seemed to wish, but to be unable, to diminish its
effect.
‘How lovely!’ said everyone who saw her; and the
vicomte lifted his shoulders and dropped his eyes as if
startled by something extraordinary when she took her War and Peace
23 of 2882
seat opposite and beamed upon him also with her
unchanging smile.
‘Madame, I doubt my ability before such an audience,’
said he, smilingly inclining his head.
The princess rested her bare round arm on a little table
and considered a reply unnecessary. She smilingly waited.
All the time the story was being told she sat upright,
glancing now at her beautiful round arm, altered in shape
by its pressure on the table, now at her still more beautiful
bosom, on which she readjusted a diamond necklace.
From time to time she smoothed the folds of her dress,
and whenever the story produced an effect she glanced at
Anna Pavlovna, at once adopted just the expression she
saw on the maid of honor’s face, and again relapsed into
her radiant smile.
The little princess had also left the tea table and
followed Helene.
‘Wait a moment, I’ll get my work.... Now then, what
are you thinking of?’ she went on, turning to Prince
Hippolyte. ‘Fetch me my workbag.’
There was a general movement as the princess, smiling
and talking merrily to everyone at once, sat down and
gaily arranged herself in her seat. War and Peace
24 of 2882
‘Now I am all right,’ she said, and asking the vicomte
to begin, she took up her work.
Prince Hippolyte, having brought the workbag, joined
the circle and moving a chair close to hers seated himself
beside her.
Le charmant Hippolyte was surprising by his
extraordinary resemblance to his beautiful sister, but yet
more by the fact that in spite of this resemblance he was
exceedingly ugly. His features were like his sister’s, but
while in her case everything was lit up by a joyous, selfsatisfied,
youthful, and constant smile of animation, and
by the wonderful classic beauty of her figure, his face on
the contrary was dulled by imbecility and a constant
expression of sullen self-confidence, while his body was
thin and weak. His eyes, nose, and mouth all seemed
puckered into a vacant, wearied grimace, and his arms
and legs always fell into unnatural positions.
‘It’s not going to be a ghost story?’ said he, sitting
down beside the princess and hastily adjusting his
lorgnette, as if without this instrument he could not begin
to speak.
‘Why no, my dear fellow,’ said the astonished narrator,
shrugging his shoulders. War and Peace
25 of 2882
‘Because I hate ghost stories,’ said Prince Hippolyte in
a tone which showed that he only understood the meaning
of his words after he had uttered them.
He spoke with such self-confidence that his hearers
could not be sure whether what he said was very witty or
very stupid. He was dressed in a dark-green dress coat,
knee breeches of the color of cuisse de nymphe effrayee,
as he called it, shoes, and silk stockings.
The vicomte told his tale very neatly. It was an
anecdote, then current, to the effect that the Duc
d’Enghien had gone secretly to Paris to visit
Mademoiselle George; that at her house he came upon
Bonaparte, who also enjoyed the famous actress’ favors,
and that in his presence Napoleon happened to fall into
one of the fainting fits to which he was subject, and was
thus at the duc’s mercy. The latter spared him, and this
magnanimity Bonaparte subsequently repaid by death.
The story was very pretty and interesting, especially at
the point where the rivals suddenly recognized one
another; and the ladies looked agitated.
‘Charming!’ said Anna Pavlovna with an inquiring
glance at the little princess.
‘Charming!’ whispered the little princess, sticking the
needle into her work as if to testify that the interest and War and Peace
26 of 2882
fascination of the story prevented her from going on with
it.
The vicomte appreciated this silent praise and smiling
gratefully prepared to continue, but just then Anna
Pavlovna, who had kept a watchful eye on the young man
who so alarmed her, noticed that he was talking too
loudly and vehemently with the abbe, so she hurried to
the rescue. Pierre had managed to start a conversation
with the abbe about the balance of power, and the latter,
evidently interested by the young man’s simple-minded
eagerness, was explaining his pet theory. Both were
talking and listening too eagerly and too naturally, which
was why Anna Pavlovna disapproved.
‘The means are... the balance of power in Europe and
the rights of the people,’ the abbe was saying. ‘It is only
necessary for one powerful nation like Russia- barbaric as
she is said to be- to place herself disinterestedly at the
head of an alliance having for its object the maintenance
of the balance of power of Europe, and it would save the
world!’
‘But how are you to get that balance?’ Pierre was
beginning.
At that moment Anna Pavlovna came up and, looking
severely at Pierre, asked the Italian how he stood Russian War and Peace
27 of 2882
climate. The Italian’s face instantly changed and assumed
an offensively affected, sugary expression, evidently
habitual to him when conversing with women.
‘I am so enchanted by the brilliancy of the wit and
culture of the society, more especially of the feminine
society, in which I have had the honor of being received,
that I have not yet had time to think of the climate,’ said
he.
Not letting the abbe and Pierre escape, Anna Pavlovna,
the more conveniently to keep them under observation,
brought them into the larger circle. War and Peace
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Chapter IV
Just them another visitor entered the drawing room:
Prince Andrew Bolkonski, the little princess’ husband. He
was a very handsome young man, of medium height, with
firm, clearcut features. Everything about him, from his
weary, bored expression to his quiet, measured step,
offered a most striking contrast to his quiet, little wife. It
was evident that he not only knew everyone in the
drawing room, but had found them to be so tiresome that
it wearied him to look at or listen to them. And among all
these faces that he found so tedious, none seemed to bore
him so much as that of his pretty wife. He turned away
from her with a grimace that distorted his handsome face,
kissed Anna Pavlovna’s hand, and screwing up his eyes
scanned the whole company.
‘You are off to the war, Prince?’ said Anna Pavlovna.
‘General Kutuzov,’ said Bolkonski, speaking French
and stressing the last syllable of the general’s name like a
Frenchman, ‘has been pleased to take me as an aide-decamp...’
‘And Lise, your wife?’
‘She will go to the country.’ War and Peace
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‘Are you not ashamed to deprive us of your charming
wife?’
‘Andre,’ said his wife, addressing her husband in the
same coquettish manner in which she spoke to other men,
‘the vicomte has been telling us such a tale about
Mademoiselle George and Buonaparte!’
Prince Andrew screwed up his eyes and turned away.
Pierre, who from the moment Prince Andrew entered the
room had watched him with glad, affectionate eyes, now
came up and took his arm. Before he looked round Prince
Andrew frowned again, expressing his annoyance with
whoever was touching his arm, but when he saw Pierre’s
beaming face he gave him an unexpectedly kind and
pleasant smile.
‘There now!... So you, too, are in the great world?’
said he to Pierre.
‘I knew you would be here,’ replied Pierre. ‘I will
come to supper with you. May I?’ he added in a low voice
so as not to disturb the vicomte who was continuing his
story.
‘No, impossible!’ said Prince Andrew, laughing and
pressing Pierre’s hand to show that there was no need to
ask the question. He wished to say something more, but at War and Peace
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that moment Prince Vasili and his daughter got up to go
and the two young men rose to let them pass.
‘You must excuse me, dear Vicomte,’ said Prince
Vasili to the Frenchman, holding him down by the sleeve
in a friendly way to prevent his rising. ‘This unfortunate
fete at the ambassador’s deprives me of a pleasure, and
obliges me to interrupt you. I am very sorry to leave your
enchanting party,’ said he, turning to Anna Pavlovna.
His daughter, Princess Helene, passed between the
chairs, lightly holding up the folds of her dress, and the
smile shone still more radiantly on her beautiful face.
Pierre gazed at her with rapturous, almost frightened, eyes
as she passed him.
‘Very lovely,’ said Prince Andrew.
‘Very,’ said Pierre.
In passing Prince Vasili seized Pierre’s hand and said
to Anna Pavlovna: ‘Educate this bear for me! He has been
staying with me a whole month and this is the first time I
have seen him in society. Nothing is so necessary for a
young man as the society of clever women.’
Anna Pavlovna smiled and promised to take Pierre in
hand. She knew his father to be a connection of Prince
Vasili’s. The elderly lady who had been sitting with the
old aunt rose hurriedly and overtook Prince Vasili in the War and Peace
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anteroom. All the affectation of interest she had assumed
had left her kindly and tearworn face and it now
expressed only anxiety and fear.
‘How about my son Boris, Prince?’ said she, hurrying
after him into the anteroom. ‘I can’t remain any longer in
Petersburg. Tell me what news I may take back to my
poor boy.’
Although Prince Vasili listened reluctantly and not
very politely to the elderly lady, even betraying some
impatience, she gave him an ingratiating and appealing
smile, and took his hand that he might not go away.
‘What would it cost you to say a word to the Emperor,
and then he would be transferred to the Guards at once?’
said she.
‘Believe me, Princess, I am ready to do all I can,’
answered Prince Vasili, ‘but it is difficult for me to ask
the Emperor. I should advise you to appeal to
Rumyantsev through Prince Golitsyn. That would be the
best way.’
The elderly lady was a Princess Drubetskaya,
belonging to one of the best families in Russia, but she
was poor, and having long been out of society had lost her
former influential connections. She had now come to
Petersburg to procure an appointment in the Guards for War and Peace
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her only son. It was, in fact, solely to meet Prince Vasili
that she had obtained an invitation to Anna Pavlovna’s
reception and had sat listening to the vicomte’s story.
Prince Vasili’s words frightened her, an embittered look
clouded her once handsome face, but only for a moment;
then she smiled again and dutched Prince Vasili’s arm
more tightly.
‘Listen to me, Prince,’ said she. ‘I have never yet asked
you for anything and I never will again, nor have I ever
reminded you of my father’s friendship for you; but now I
entreat you for God’s sake to do this for my son- and I
shall always regard you as a benefactor,’ she added
hurriedly. ‘No, don’t be angry, but promise! I have asked
Golitsyn and he has refused. Be the kindhearted man you
always were,’ she said, trying to smile though tears were
in her eyes.
‘Papa, we shall be late,’ said Princess Helene, turning
her beautiful head and looking over her classically
molded shoulder as she stood waiting by the door.
Influence in society, however, is a capital which has to
be economized if it is to last. Prince Vasili knew this, and
having once realized that if he asked on behalf of all who
begged of him, he would soon be unable to ask for
himself, he became chary of using his influence. But in War and Peace
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Princess Drubetskaya’s case he felt, after her second
appeal, something like qualms of conscience. She had
reminded him of what was quite true; he had been
indebted to her father for the first steps in his career.
Moreover, he could see by her manners that she was one
of those women- mostly mothers- who, having once made
up their minds, will not rest until they have gained their
end, and are prepared if necessary to go on insisting day
after day and hour after hour, and even to make scenes.
This last consideration moved him.
‘My dear Anna Mikhaylovna,’ said he with his usual
familiarity and weariness of tone, ‘it is almost impossible
for me to do what you ask; but to prove my devotion to
you and how I respect your father’s memory, I will do the
impossible- your son shall be transferred to the Guards.
Here is my hand on it. Are you satisfied?’
‘My dear benefactor! This is what I expected from
you- I knew your kindness!’ He turned to go.
‘Wait- just a word! When he has been transferred to
the Guards...’ she faltered. ‘You are on good terms with
Michael Ilarionovich Kutuzov... recommend Boris to him
as adjutant! Then I shall be at rest, and then..’
Prince Vasili smiled. War and Peace
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‘No, I won’t promise that. You don’t know how
Kutuzov is pestered since his appointment as Commander
in Chief. He told me himself that all the Moscow ladies
have conspired to give him all their sons as adjutants.’
‘No, but do promise! I won’t let you go! My dear
benefactor..’
‘Papa,’ said his beautiful daughter in the same tone as
before, ‘we shall be late.’
‘Well, au revoir! Good-by! You hear her?’
‘Then tomorrow you will speak to the Emperor?’
‘Certainly; but about Kutuzov, I don’t promise.’
‘Do promise, do promise, Vasili!’ cried Anna
Mikhaylovna as he went, with the smile of a coquettish
girl, which at one time probably came naturally to her, but
was now very ill-suited to her careworn face.
Apparently she had forgotten her age and by force of
habit employed all the old feminine arts. But as soon as
the prince had gone her face resumed its former cold,
artificial expression. She returned to the group where the
vicomte was still talking, and again pretended to listen,
while waiting till it would be time to leave. Her task was
accomplished. War and Peace
35 of 2882
Chapter V
‘And what do you think of this latest comedy, the
coronation at Milan?’ asked Anna Pavlovna, ‘and of the
comedy of the people of Genoa and Lucca laying their
petitions before Monsieur Buonaparte, and Monsieur
Buonaparte sitting on a throne and granting the petitions
of the nations? Adorable! It is enough to make one’s head
whirl! It is as if the whole world had gone crazy.’
Prince Andrew looked Anna Pavlovna straight in the
face with a sarcastic smile.
‘‘Dieu me la donne, gare a qui la touche!’* They say
he was very fine when he said that,’ he remarked,
repeating the words in Italian: ‘‘Dio mi l’ha dato. Guai a
chi la tocchi!’’
*God has given it to me, let him who touches it
beware!
‘I hope this will prove the last drop that will make the
glass run over,’ Anna Pavlovna continued. ‘The
sovereigns will not be able to endure this man who is a
menace to everything.’
‘The sovereigns? I do not speak of Russia,’ said the
vicomte, polite but hopeless: ‘The sovereigns, madame... War and Peace
36 of 2882
What have they done for Louis XVII, for the Queen, or
for Madame Elizabeth? Nothing!’ and he became more
animated. ‘And believe me, they are reaping the reward of
their betrayal of the Bourbon cause. The sovereigns!
Why, they are sending ambassadors to compliment the
usurper.’
And sighing disdainfully, he again changed his
position.
Prince Hippolyte, who had been gazing at the vicomte
for some time through his lorgnette, suddenly turned
completely round toward the little princess, and having
asked for a needle began tracing the Conde coat of arms
on the table. He explained this to her with as much gravity
as if she had asked him to do it.
‘Baton de gueules, engrele de gueules d’ azur- maison
Conde,’ said he.
The princess listened, smiling.
‘If Buonaparte remains on the throne of France a year
longer,’ the vicomte continued, with the air of a man who,
in a matter with which he is better acquainted than anyone
else, does not listen to others but follows the current of his
own thoughts, ‘things will have gone too far. By intrigues,
violence, exile, and executions, French society- I mean War and Peace
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good French society- will have been forever destroyed,
and then..’
He shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands.
Pierre wished to make a remark, for the conversation
interested him, but Anna Pavlovna, who had him under
observation, interrupted:
‘The Emperor Alexander,’ said she, with the
melancholy which always accompanied any reference of
hers to the Imperial family, ‘has declared that he will
leave it to the French people themselves to choose their
own form of government; and I believe that once free
from the usurper, the whole nation will certainly throw
itself into the arms of its rightful king,’ she concluded,
trying to be amiable to the royalist emigrant.
‘That is doubtful,’ said Prince Andrew. ‘Monsieur le
Vicomte quite rightly supposes that matters have already
gone too far. I think it will be difficult to return to the old
regime.’
‘From what I have heard,’ said Pierre, blushing and
breaking into the conversation, ‘almost all the aristocracy
has already gone over to Bonaparte’s side.’
‘It is the Buonapartists who say that,’ replied the
vicomte without looking at Pierre. ‘At the present time it
is difficult to know the real state of French public opinion. War and Peace
38 of 2882
‘Bonaparte has said so,’ remarked Prince Andrew with
a sarcastic smile.
It was evident that he did not like the vicomte and was
aiming his remarks at him, though without looking at him.
‘‘I showed them the path to glory, but they did not
follow it,’’ Prince Andrew continued after a short silence,
again quoting Napoleon’s words. ‘‘I opened my
antechambers and they crowded in.’ I do not know how
far he was justified in saying so.’
‘Not in the least,’ replied the vicomte. ‘After the
murder of the duc even the most partial ceased to regard
him as a hero. If to some people,’ he went on, turning to
Anna Pavlovna, ‘he ever was a hero, after the murder of
the duc there was one martyr more in heaven and one
hero less on earth.’
Before Anna Pavlovna and the others had time to smile
their appreciation of the vicomte’s epigram, Pierre again
broke into the conversation, and though Anna Pavlovna
felt sure he would say something inappropriate, she was
unable to stop him.
‘The execution of the Duc d’Enghien,’ declared
Monsieur Pierre, ‘was a political necessity, and it seems
to me that Napoleon showed greatness of soul by not War and Peace
39 of 2882
fearing to take on himself the whole responsibility of that
deed.’
‘Dieu! Mon Dieu!’ muttered Anna Pavlovna in a
terrified whisper.
‘What, Monsieur Pierre... Do you consider that
assassination shows greatness of soul?’ said the little
princess, smiling and drawing her work nearer to her.
‘Oh! Oh!’ exclaimed several voices.
‘Capital!’ said Prince Hippolyte in English, and began
slapping his knee with the palm of his hand.
The vicomte merely shrugged his shoulders. Pierre
looked solemnly at his audience over his spectacles and
continued.
‘I say so,’ he continued desperately, ‘because the
Bourbons fled from the Revolution leaving the people to
anarchy, and Napoleon alone understood the Revolution
and quelled it, and so for the general good, he could not
stop short for the sake of one man’s life.’
‘Won’t you come over to the other table?’ suggested
Anna Pavlovna.
But Pierre continued his speech without heeding her.
‘No,’ cried he, becoming more and more eager,
‘Napoleon is great because he rose superior to the
Revolution, suppressed its abuses, preserved all that was War and Peace
40 of 2882
good in it- equality of citizenship and freedom of speech
and of the press- and only for that reason did he obtain
power.’
‘Yes, if having obtained power, without availing
himself of it to commit murder he had restored it to the
rightful king, I should have called him a great man,’
remarked the vicomte.
‘He could not do that. The people only gave him power
that he might rid them of the Bourbons and because they
saw that he was a great man. The Revolution was a grand
thing!’ continued Monsieur Pierre, betraying by this
desperate and provocative proposition his extreme youth
and his wish to express all that was in his mind.
‘What? Revolution and regicide a grand thing?... Well,
after that... But won’t you come to this other table?’
repeated Anna Pavlovna.
‘Rousseau’s Contrat social,’ said the vicomte with a
tolerant smile.
‘I am not speaking of regicide, I am speaking about
ideas.’
‘Yes: ideas of robbery, murder, and regicide,’ again
interjected an ironical voice.
‘Those were extremes, no doubt, but they are not what
is most important. What is important are the rights of War and Peace
41 of 2882
man, emancipation from prejudices, and equality of
citizenship, and all these ideas Napoleon has retained in
full force.’
‘Liberty and equality,’ said the vicomte
contemptuously, as if at last deciding seriously to prove to
this youth how foolish his words were, ‘high-sounding
words which have long been discredited. Who does not
love liberty and equality? Even our Saviour preached
liberty and equality. Have people since the Revolution
become happier? On the contrary. We wanted liberty, but
Buonaparte has destroyed it.’
Prince Andrew kept looking with an amused smile
from Pierre to the vicomte and from the vicomte to their
hostess. In the first moment of Pierre’s outburst Anna
Pavlovna, despite her social experience, was horrorstruck.
But when she saw that Pierre’s sacrilegious words
had not exasperated the vicomte, and had convinced
herself that it was impossible to stop him, she rallied her
forces and joined the vicomte in a vigorous attack on the
orator.
‘But, my dear Monsieur Pierre,’ said she, ‘how do you
explain the fact of a great man executing a duc- or even
an ordinary man who- is innocent and untried?’ War and Peace
42 of 2882
‘I should like,’ said the vicomte, ‘to ask how monsieur
explains the 18th Brumaire; was not that an imposture? It
was a swindle, and not at all like the conduct of a great
man!’
‘And the prisoners he killed in Africa? That was
horrible!’ said the little princess, shrugging her shoulders.
‘He’s a low fellow, say what you will,’ remarked
Prince Hippolyte.
Pierre, not knowing whom to answer, looked at them
all and smiled. His smile was unlike the half-smile of
other people. When he smiled, his grave, even rather
gloomy, look was instantaneously replaced by another- a
childlike, kindly, even rather silly look, which seemed to
ask forgiveness.
The vicomte who was meeting him for the first time
saw clearly that this young Jacobin was not so terrible as
his words suggested. All were silent.
‘How do you expect him to answer you all at once?’
said Prince Andrew. ‘Besides, in the actions of a
statesman one has to distinguish between his acts as a
private person, as a general, and as an emperor. So it
seems to me.’
‘Yes, yes, of course!’ Pierre chimed in, pleased at the
arrival of this reinforcement. War and Peace
43 of 2882
‘One must admit,’ continued Prince Andrew, ‘that
Napoleon as a man was great on the bridge of Arcola, and
in the hospital at Jaffa where he gave his hand to the
plague-stricken; but... but there are other acts which it is
difficult to justify.’
Prince Andrew, who had evidently wished to tone
down the awkwardness of Pierre’s remarks, rose and
made a sign to his wife that it was time to go.
Suddenly Prince Hippolyte started up making signs to
everyone to attend, and asking them all to be seated
began:
‘I was told a charming Moscow story today and must
treat you to it. Excuse me, Vicomte- I must tell it in
Russian or the point will be lost....’ And Prince Hippolyte
began to tell his story in such Russian as a Frenchman
would speak after spending about a year in Russia.
Everyone waited, so emphatically and eagerly did he
demand their attention to his story.
‘There is in Moscow a lady, une dame, and she is very
stingy. She must have two footmen behind her carriage,
and very big ones. That was her taste. And she had a
lady’s maid, also big. She said..’
Here Prince Hippolyte paused, evidently collecting his
ideas with difficulty. War and Peace
44 of 2882
‘She said... Oh yes! She said, ‘Girl,’ to the maid, ‘put
on a livery, get up behind the carriage, and come with me
while I make some calls.’’
Here Prince Hippolyte spluttered and burst out
laughing long before his audience, which produced an
effect unfavorable to the narrator. Several persons, among
them the elderly lady and Anna Pavlovna, did however
smile.
‘She went. Suddenly there was a great wind. The girl
lost her hat and her long hair came down....’ Here he
could contain himself no longer and went on, between
gasps of laughter: ‘And the whole world knew...’
And so the anecdote ended. Though it was
unintelligible why he had told it, or why it had to be told
in Russian, still Anna Pavlovna and the others appreciated
Prince Hippolyte’s social tact in so agreeably ending
Pierre’s unpleasant and unamiable outburst. After the
anecdote the conversation broke up into insignificant
small talk about the last and next balls, about theatricals,
and who would meet whom, and when and where. War and Peace
45 of 2882
Chapter VI
Having thanked Anna Pavlovna for her charming
soiree, the guests began to take their leave.
Pierre was ungainly. Stout, about the average height,
broad, with huge red hands; he did not know, as the
saying is, to enter a drawing room and still less how to
leave one; that is, how to say something particularly
agreeable before going away. Besides this he was absentminded.
When he rose to go, he took up instead of his
own, the general’s three-cornered hat, and held it, pulling
at the plume, till the general asked him to restore it. All
his absent-mindedness and inability to enter a room and
converse in it was, however, redeemed by his kindly,
simple, and modest expression. Anna Pavlovna turned
toward him and, with a Christian mildness that expressed
forgiveness of his indiscretion, nodded and said: ‘I hope
to see you again, but I also hope you will change your
opinions, my dear Monsieur Pierre.’
When she said this, he did not reply and only bowed,
but again everybody saw his smile, which said nothing,
unless perhaps, ‘Opinions are opinions, but you see what War and Peace
46 of 2882
a capital, good-natured fellow I am.’ And everyone,
including Anna Pavlovna, felt this.
Prince Andrew had gone out into the hall, and, turning
his shoulders to the footman who was helping him on
with his cloak, listened indifferently to his wife’s chatter
with Prince Hippolyte who had also come into the hall.
Prince Hippolyte stood close to the pretty, pregnant
princess, and stared fixedly at her through his eyeglass.
‘Go in, Annette, or you will catch cold,’ said the little
princess, taking leave of Anna Pavlovna. ‘It is settled,’
she added in a low voice.
Anna Pavlovna had already managed to speak to Lise
about the match she contemplated between Anatole and
the little princess’ sister-in-law.
‘I rely on you, my dear,’ said Anna Pavlovna, also in a
low tone. ‘Write to her and let me know how her father
looks at the matter. Au revoir!’- and she left the hall.
Prince Hippolyte approached the little princess and,
bending his face close to her, began to whisper
something.
Two footmen, the princess’ and his own, stood holding
a shawl and a cloak, waiting for the conversation to finish.
They listened to the French sentences which to them were
meaningless, with an air of understanding but not wishing War and Peace
47 of 2882
to appear to do so. The princess as usual spoke smilingly
and listened with a laugh.
‘I am very glad I did not go to the ambassador’s,’ said
Prince Hippolyte ‘-so dull-. It has been a delightful
evening, has it not? Delightful!’
‘They say the ball will be very good,’ replied the
princess, drawing up her downy little lip. ‘All the pretty
women in society will be there.’
‘Not all, for you will not be there; not all,’ said Prince
Hippolyte smiling joyfully; and snatching the shawl from
the footman, whom he even pushed aside, he began
wrapping it round the princess. Either from awkwardness
or intentionally (no one could have said which) after the
shawl had been adjusted he kept his arm around her for a
long time, as though embracing her.
Still smiling, she gracefully moved away, turning and
glancing at her husband. Prince Andrew’s eyes were
closed, so weary and sleepy did he seem.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked his wife, looking past her.
Prince Hippolyte hurriedly put on his cloak, which in
the latest fashion reached to his very heels, and, stumbling
in it, ran out into the porch following the princess, whom
a footman was helping into the carriage. War and Peace
48 of 2882
‘Princesse, au revoir,’ cried he, stumbling with his
tongue as well as with his feet.
The princess, picking up her dress, was taking her seat
in the dark carriage, her husband was adjusting his saber;
Prince Hippolyte, under pretense of helping, was in
everyone’s way.
‘Allow me, sir,’ said Prince Andrew in Russian in a
cold, disagreeable tone to Prince Hippolyte who was
blocking his path.
‘I am expecting you, Pierre,’ said the same voice, but
gently and affectionately.
The postilion started, the carriage wheels rattled.
Prince Hippolyte laughed spasmodically as he stood in the
porch waiting for the vicomte whom he had promised to
take home.
‘Well, mon cher,’ said the vicomte, having seated
himself beside Hippolyte in the carriage, ‘your little
princess is very nice, very nice indeed, quite French,’ and
he kissed the tips of his fingers. Hippolyte burst out
laughing.
‘Do you know, you are a terrible chap for all your
innocent airs,’ continued the vicomte. ‘I pity the poor
husband, that little officer who gives himself the airs of a
monarch.’ War and Peace
49 of 2882
Hippolyte spluttered again, and amid his laughter said,
‘And you were saying that the Russian ladies are not
equal to the French? One has to know how to deal with
them.’
Pierre reaching the house first went into Prince
Andrew’s study like one quite at home, and from habit
immediately lay down on the sofa, took from the shelf the
first book that came to his hand (it was Caesar’s
Commentaries), and resting on his elbow, began reading it
in the middle.
‘What have you done to Mlle Scherer? She will be
quite ill now,’ said Prince Andrew, as he entered the
study, rubbing his small white hands.
Pierre turned his whole body, making the sofa creak.
He lifted his eager face to Prince Andrew, smiled, and
waved his hand.
‘That abbe is very interesting but he does not see the
thing in the right light.... In my opinion perpetual peace is
possible but- I do not know how to express it... not by a
balance of political power...’
It was evident that Prince Andrew was not interested in
such abstract conversation.
‘One can’t everywhere say all one thinks, mon cher.
Well, have you at last decided on anything? Are you War and Peace
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going to be a guardsman or a diplomatist?’ asked Prince
Andrew after a momentary silence.
Pierre sat up on the sofa, with his legs tucked under
him.
‘Really, I don’t yet know. I don’t like either the one or
the other.’
‘But you must decide on something! Your father
expects it.’
Pierre at the age of ten had been sent abroad with an
abbe as tutor, and had remained away till he was twenty.
When he returned to Moscow his father dismissed the
abbe and said to the young man, ‘Now go to Petersburg,
look round, and choose your profession. I will agree to
anything. Here is a letter to Prince Vasili, and here is
money. Write to me all about it, and I will help you in
everything.’ Pierre had already been choosing a career for
three months, and had not decided on anything. It was
about this choice that Prince Andrew was speaking. Pierre
rubbed his forehead.
‘But he must be a Freemason,’ said he, referring to the
abbe whom he had met that evening.
‘That is all nonsense.’ Prince Andrew again interrupted
him, ‘let us talk business. Have you been to the Horse
Guards?’ War and Peace
51 of 2882
‘No, I have not; but this is what I have been thinking
and wanted to tell you. There is a war now against
Napoleon. If it were a war for freedom I could understand
it and should be the first to enter the army; but to help
England and Austria against the greatest man in the world
is not right.’
Prince Andrew only shrugged his shoulders at Pierre’s
childish words. He put on the air of one who finds it
impossible to reply to such nonsense, but it would in fact
have been difficult to give any other answer than the one
Prince Andrew gave to this naive question.
‘If no one fought except on his own conviction, there
would be no wars,’ he said.
‘And that would be splendid,’ said Pierre.
Prince Andrew smiled ironically.
‘Very likely it would be splendid, but it will never
come about..’
‘Well, why are you going to the war?’ asked Pierre.
‘What for? I don’t know. I must. Besides that I am
going...’ He paused. ‘I am going because the life I am
leading here does not suit me!’ War and Peace
52 of 2882
Chapter VII
The rustle of a woman’s dress was heard in the next
room. Prince Andrew shook himself as if waking up, and
his face assumed the look it had had in Anna Pavlovna’s
drawing room. Pierre removed his feet from the sofa. The
princess came in. She had changed her gown for a house
dress as fresh and elegant as the other. Prince Andrew
rose and politely placed a chair for her.
‘How is it,’ she began, as usual in French, settling
down briskly and fussily in the easy chair, ‘how is it
Annette never got married? How stupid you men all are
not to have married her! Excuse me for saying so, but you
have no sense about women. What an argumentative
fellow you are, Monsieur Pierre!’
‘And I am still arguing with your husband. I can’t
understand why he wants to go to the war,’ replied Pierre,
addressing the princess with none of the embarrassment
so commonly shown by young men in their intercourse
with young women.
The princess started. Evidently Pierre’s words touched
her to the quick. War and Peace
53 of 2882
‘Ah, that is just what I tell him!’ said she. ‘I don’t
understand it; I don’t in the least understand why men
can’t live without wars. How is it that we women don’t
want anything of the kind, don’t need it? Now you shall
judge between us. I always tell him: Here he is Uncle’s
aide-de-camp, a most brilliant position. He is so well
known, so much appreciated by everyone. The other day
at the Apraksins’ I heard a lady asking, ‘Is that the famous
Prince Andrew?’ I did indeed.’ She laughed. ‘He is so
well received everywhere. He might easily become aidede-camp
to the Emperor. You know the Emperor spoke to
him most graciously. Annette and I were speaking of how
to arrange it. What do you think?’
Pierre looked at his friend and, noticing that he did not
like the conversation, gave no reply.
‘When are you starting?’ he asked.
‘Oh, don’t speak of his going, don’t! I won’t hear it
spoken of,’ said the princess in the same petulantly
playful tone in which she had spoken to Hippolyte in the
drawing room and which was so plainly ill-suited to the
family circle of which Pierre was almost a member.
‘Today when I remembered that all these delightful
associations must be broken off... and then you know,
Andre...’ (she looked significantly at her husband) ‘I’m War and Peace
54 of 2882
afraid, I’m afraid!’ she whispered, and a shudder ran
down her back.
Her husband looked at her as if surprised to notice that
someone besides Pierre and himself was in the room, and
addressed her in a tone of frigid politeness.
‘What is it you are afraid of, Lise? I don’t understand,’
said he.
‘There, what egotists men all are: all, all egotists! Just
for a whim of his own, goodness only knows why, he
leaves me and locks me up alone in the country.’
‘With my father and sister, remember,’ said Prince
Andrew gently.
‘Alone all the same, without my friends.... And he
expects me not to be afraid.’
Her tone was now querulous and her lip drawn up,
giving her not a joyful, but an animal, squirrel-like
expression. She paused as if she felt it indecorous to
speak of her pregnancy before Pierre, though the gist of
the matter lay in that.
‘I still can’t understand what you are afraid of,’ said
Prince Andrew slowly, not taking his eyes off his wife.
The princess blushed, and raised her arms with a
gesture of despair. War and Peace
55 of 2882
‘No, Andrew, I must say you have changed. Oh, how
you have..’
‘Your doctor tells you to go to bed earlier,’ said Prince
Andrew. ‘You had better go.’
The princess said nothing, but suddenly her short
downy lip quivered. Prince Andrew rose, shrugged his
shoulders, and walked about the room.
Pierre looked over his spectacles with naive surprise,
now at him and now at her, moved as if about to rise too,
but changed his mind.
‘Why should I mind Monsieur Pierre being here?’
exclaimed the little princess suddenly, her pretty face all
at once distorted by a tearful grimace. ‘I have long wanted
to ask you, Andrew, why you have changed so to me?
What have I done to you? You are going to the war and
have no pity for me. Why is it?’
‘Lise!’ was all Prince Andrew said. But that one word
expressed an entreaty, a threat, and above all conviction
that she would herself regret her words. But she went on
hurriedly:
‘You treat me like an invalid or a child. I see it all! Did
you behave like that six months ago?’
‘Lise, I beg you to desist,’ said Prince Andrew still
more emphatically. War and Peace
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report abuse delete Anonymous (Legend) wrote on Mon, 26 Jan 2015 03:57:38 GMT reply
.‘If you have nothing better to do, Count [or Prince],
and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor
invalid is not too terrible, I shall be very charmed to see
you tonight between 7 and 10- Annette Scherer.’
‘Heavens! what a virulent attack!’ replied the prince,
not in the least disconcerted by this reception. He had just
entered, wearing an embroidered court uniform, knee
breeches, and shoes, and had stars on his breast and a
serene expression on his flat face. He spoke in that refined
French in which our grandfathers not only spoke but
thought, and with the gentle, patronizing intonation
natural to a man of importance who had grown old in
society and at court. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed
her hand, presenting to her his bald, scented, and shining
head, and complacently seated himself on the sofa.
‘First of all, dear friend, tell me how you are. Set your
friend’s mind at rest,’ said he without altering his tone,
beneath the politeness and affected sympathy of which
indifference and even irony could be discerned.
‘Can one be well while suffering morally? Can one be
calm in times like these if one has any feeling?’ said Anna
Pavlovna. ‘You are staying the whole evening, I hope?’ War and Peace
5 of 2882
‘And the fete at the English ambassador’s? Today is
Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there,’ said the
prince. ‘My daughter is coming for me to take me there.’
‘I thought today’s fete had been canceled. I confess all
these festivities and fireworks are becoming wearisome.’
‘If they had known that you wished it, the
entertainment would have been put off,’ said the prince,
who, like a wound-up clock, by force of habit said things
he did not even wish to be believed.
‘Don’t tease! Well, and what has been decided about
Novosiltsev’s dispatch? You know everything.’
‘What can one say about it?’ replied the prince in a
cold, listless tone. ‘What has been decided? They have
decided that Buonaparte has burnt his boats, and I believe
that we are ready to burn ours.’
Prince Vasili always spoke languidly, like an actor
repeating a stale part. Anna Pavlovna Scherer on the
contrary, despite her forty years, overflowed with
animation and impulsiveness. To be an enthusiast had
become her social vocation and, sometimes even when
she did not feel like it, she became enthusiastic in order
not to disappoint the expectations of those who knew her.
The subdued smile which, though it did not suit her faded
features, always played round her lips expressed, as in a War and Peace
6 of 2882
spoiled child, a continual consciousness of her charming
defect, which she neither wished, nor could, nor
considered it necessary, to correct.
In the midst of a conversation on political matters
Anna Pavlovna burst out:
‘Oh, don’t speak to me of Austria. Perhaps I don’t
understand things, but Austria never has wished, and does
not wish, for war. She is betraying us! Russia alone must
save Europe. Our gracious sovereign recognizes his high
vocation and will be true to it. That is the one thing I have
faith in! Our good and wonderful sovereign has to
perform the noblest role on earth, and he is so virtuous
and noble that God will not forsake him. He will fulfill his
vocation and crush the hydra of revolution, which has
become more terrible than ever in the person of this
murderer and villain! We alone must avenge the blood of
the just one.... Whom, I ask you, can we rely on?...
England with her commercial spirit will not and cannot
understand the Emperor Alexander’s loftiness of soul. She
has refused to evacuate Malta. She wanted to find, and
still seeks, some secret motive in our actions. What
answer did Novosiltsev get? None. The English have not
understood and cannot understand the self-abnegation of
our Emperor who wants nothing for himself, but only War and Peace
7 of 2882
desires the good of mankind. And what have they
promised? Nothing! And what little they have promised
they will not perform! Prussia has always declared that
Buonaparte is invincible, and that all Europe is powerless
before him.... And I don’t believe a word that Hardenburg
says, or Haugwitz either. This famous Prussian neutrality
is just a trap. I have faith only in God and the lofty destiny
of our adored monarch. He will save Europe!’
She suddenly paused, smiling at her own impetuosity.
‘I think,’ said the prince with a smile, ‘that if you had
been sent instead of our dear Wintzingerode you would
have captured the King of Prussia’s consent by assault.
You are so eloquent. Will you give me a cup of tea?’
‘In a moment. A propos,’ she added, becoming calm
again, ‘I am expecting two very interesting men tonight,
le Vicomte de Mortemart, who is connected with the
Montmorencys through the Rohans, one of the best
French families. He is one of the genuine emigres, the
good ones. And also the Abbe Morio. Do you know that
profound thinker? He has been received by the Emperor.
Had you heard?’
‘I shall be delighted to meet them,’ said the prince.
‘But tell me,’ he added with studied carelessness as if it
had only just occurred to him, though the question he was War and Peace
8 of 2882
about to ask was the chief motive of his visit, ‘is it true
that the Dowager Empress wants Baron Funke to be
appointed first secretary at Vienna? The baron by all
accounts is a poor creature.’
Prince Vasili wished to obtain this post for his son, but
others were trying through the Dowager Empress Marya
Fedorovna to secure it for the baron.
Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to indicate that
neither she nor anyone else had a right to criticize what
the Empress desired or was pleased with.
‘Baron Funke has been recommended to the Dowager
Empress by her sister,’ was all she said, in a dry and
mournful tone.
As she named the Empress, Anna Pavlovna’s face
suddenly assumed an expression of profound and sincere
devotion and respect mingled with sadness, and this
occurred every time she mentioned her illustrious
patroness. She added that Her Majesty had deigned to
show Baron Funke beaucoup d’estime, and again her face
clouded over with sadness.
The prince was silent and looked indifferent. But, with
the womanly and courtierlike quickness and tact habitual
to her, Anna Pavlovna wished both to rebuke him (for
daring to speak he had done of a man recommended to the War and Peace
9 of 2882
Empress) and at the same time to console him, so she
said:
‘Now about your family. Do you know that since your
daughter came out everyone has been enraptured by her?
They say she is amazingly beautiful.’
The prince bowed to signify his respect and gratitude.
‘I often think,’ she continued after a short pause,
drawing nearer to the prince and smiling amiably at him
as if to show that political and social topics were ended
and the time had come for intimate conversation- ‘I often
think how unfairly sometimes the joys of life are
distributed. Why has fate given you two such splendid
children? I don’t speak of Anatole, your youngest. I don’t
like him,’ she added in a tone admitting of no rejoinder
and raising her eyebrows. ‘Two such charming children.
And really you appreciate them less than anyone, and so
you don’t deserve to have them.’
And she smiled her ecstatic smile.
‘I can’t help it,’ said the prince. ‘Lavater would have
said I lack the bump of paternity.’
‘Don’t joke; I mean to have a serious talk with you. Do
you know I am dissatisfied with your younger son?
Between ourselves’ (and her face assumed its melancholy War and Peace
10 of 2882
expression), ‘he was mentioned at Her Majesty’s and you
were pitied...’
The prince answered nothing, but she looked at him
significantly, awaiting a reply. He frowned.
‘What would you have me do?’ he said at last. ‘You
know I did all a father could for their education, and they
have both turned out fools. Hippolyte is at least a quiet
fool, but Anatole is an active one. That is the only
difference between them.’ He said this smiling in a way
more natural and animated than usual, so that the wrinkles
round his mouth very clearly revealed something
unexpectedly coarse and unpleasant.
‘And why are children born to such men as you? If you
were not a father there would be nothing I could reproach
you with,’ said Anna Pavlovna, looking up pensively.
‘I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess
that my children are the bane of my life. It is the cross I
have to bear. That is how I explain it to myself. It can’t be
helped!’
He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel
fate by a gesture. Anna Pavlovna meditated.
‘Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal
son Anatole?’ she asked. ‘They say old maids have a
mania for matchmaking, and though I don’t feel that War and Peace
11 of 2882
weakness in myself as yet,I know a little person who is
very unhappy with her father. She is a relation of yours,
Princess Mary Bolkonskaya.’
Prince Vasili did not reply, though, with the quickness
of memory and perception befitting a man of the world,
he indicated by a movement of the head that he was
considering this information.
‘Do you know,’ he said at last, evidently unable to
check the sad current of his thoughts, ‘that Anatole is
costing me forty thousand rubles a year? And,’ he went
on after a pause, ‘what will it be in five years, if he goes
on like this?’ Presently he added: ‘That’s what we fathers
have to put up with.... Is this princess of yours rich?’
‘Her father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the
country. He is the well-known Prince Bolkonski who had
to retire from the army under the late Emperor, and was
nicknamed ‘the King of Prussia.’ He is very clever but
eccentric, and a bore. The poor girl is very unhappy. She
has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise
Meinen lately. He is an aide-de-camp of Kutuzov’s and
will be here tonight.’
‘Listen, dear Annette,’ said the prince, suddenly taking
Anna Pavlovna’s hand and for some reason drawing it
downwards. ‘Arrange that affair for me and I shall always War and Peace
12 of 2882
be your most devoted slave- slafe wigh an f, as a village
elder of mine writes in his reports. She is rich and of good
family and that’s all I want.’
And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to
him, he raised the maid of honor’s hand to his lips, kissed
it, and swung it to and fro as he lay back in his armchair,
looking in another direction.
‘Attendez,’ said Anna Pavlovna, reflecting, ‘I’ll speak
to Lise, young Bolkonski’s wife, this very evening, and
perhaps the thing can be arranged. It shall be on your
family’s behalf that I’ll start my apprenticeship as old
maid.’ War and Peace
13 of 2882
Chapter II
Anna Pavlovna’s drawing room was gradually filling.
The highest Petersburg society was assembled there:
people differing widely in age and character but alike in
the social circle to which they belonged. Prince Vasili’s
daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her father to
the ambassador’s entertainment; she wore a ball dress and
her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess
Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de
Petersbourg,* was also there. She had been married
during the previous winter, and being pregnant did not go
to any large gatherings, but only to small receptions.
Prince Vasili’s son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart,
whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others
had also come.
*The most fascinating woman in Petersburg.
To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, ‘You have
not yet seen my aunt,’ or ‘You do not know my aunt?’
and very gravely conducted him or her to a little old lady,
wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who had come
sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began
to arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to War and Peace
14 of 2882
her aunt, Anna Pavlovna mentioned each one’s name and
then left them.
Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this
old aunt whom not one of them knew, not one of them
wanted to know, and not one of them cared about; Anna
Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful and
solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to
each of them in the same words, about their health and her
own, and the health of Her Majesty, ‘who, thank God,
was better today.’ And each visitor, though politeness
prevented his showing impatience, left the old woman
with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious
duty and did not return to her the whole evening.
The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some
work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little
upper lip, on which a delicate dark down was just
perceptible, was too short for her teeth, but it lifted all the
more sweetly, and was especially charming when she
occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is
always the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her
defect- the shortness of her upper lip and her half-open
mouth- seemed to be her own special and peculiar form of
beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of this pretty
young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life War and Peace
15 of 2882
and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men
and dull dispirited young ones who looked at her, after
being in her company and talking to her a little while, felt
as if they too were becoming, like her, full of life and
health. All who talked to her, and at each word saw her
bright smile and the constant gleam of her white teeth,
thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that
day.
The little princess went round the table with quick,
short, swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily
spreading out her dress sat down on a sofa near the silver
samovar, as if all she was doing was a pleasure to herself
and to all around her. ‘I have brought my work,’ said she
in French, displaying her bag and addressing all present.
‘Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked
trick on me,’ she added, turning to her hostess. ‘You
wrote that it was to be quite a small reception, and just see
how badly I am dressed.’ And she spread out her arms to
show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, dainty gray dress,
girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast.
‘Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier
than anyone else,’ replied Anna Pavlovna.
‘You know,’ said the princess in the same tone of
voice and still in French, turning to a general, ‘my War and Peace
16 of 2882
husband is deserting me? He is going to get himself
killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?’ she added,
addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an
answer she turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful
Helene.
‘What a delightful woman this little princess is!’ said
Prince Vasili to Anna Pavlovna.
One of the next arrivals was a stout, heavily built
young man with close-cropped hair, spectacles, the lightcolored
breeches fashionable at that time, a very high
ruffle, and a brown dress coat. This stout young man was
an illegitimate son of Count Bezukhov, a well-known
grandee of Catherine’s time who now lay dying in
Moscow. The young man had not yet entered either the
military or civil service, as he had only just returned from
abroad where he had been educated, and this was his first
appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with
the nod she accorded to the lowest hierarchy in her
drawing room. But in spite of this . ., .,‘If you have nothing better to do, Count [or Prince],
and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor
invalid is not too terrible, I shall be very charmed to see
you tonight between 7 and 10- Annette Scherer.’
‘Heavens! what a virulent attack!’ replied the prince,
not in the least disconcerted by this reception. He had just
entered, wearing an embroidered court uniform, knee
breeches, and shoes, and had stars on his breast and a
serene expression on his flat face. He spoke in that refined
French in which our grandfathers not only spoke but
thought, and with the gentle, patronizing intonation
natural to a man of importance who had grown old in
society and at court. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed
her hand, presenting to her his bald, scented, and shining
head, and complacently seated himself on the sofa.
‘First of all, dear friend, tell me how you are. Set your
friend’s mind at rest,’ said he without altering his tone,
beneath the politeness and affected sympathy of which
indifference and even irony could be discerned.
‘Can one be well while suffering morally? Can one be
calm in times like these if one has any feeling?’ said Anna
Pavlovna. ‘You are staying the whole evening, I hope?’ War and Peace
5 of 2882
‘And the fete at the English ambassador’s? Today is
Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there,’ said the
prince. ‘My daughter is coming for me to take me there.’
‘I thought today’s fete had been canceled. I confess all
these festivities and fireworks are becoming wearisome.’
‘If they had known that you wished it, the
entertainment would have been put off,’ said the prince,
who, like a wound-up clock, by force of habit said things
he did not even wish to be believed.
‘Don’t tease! Well, and what has been decided about
Novosiltsev’s dispatch? You know everything.’
‘What can one say about it?’ replied the prince in a
cold, listless tone. ‘What has been decided? They have
decided that Buonaparte has burnt his boats, and I believe
that we are ready to burn ours.’
Prince Vasili always spoke languidly, like an actor
repeating a stale part. Anna Pavlovna Scherer on the
contrary, despite her forty years, overflowed with
animation and impulsiveness. To be an enthusiast had
become her social vocation and, sometimes even when
she did not feel like it, she became enthusiastic in order
not to disappoint the expectations of those who knew her.
The subdued smile which, though it did not suit her faded
features, always played round her lips expressed, as in a War and Peace
6 of 2882
spoiled child, a continual consciousness of her charming
defect, which she neither wished, nor could, nor
considered it necessary, to correct.
In the midst of a conversation on political matters
Anna Pavlovna burst out:
‘Oh, don’t speak to me of Austria. Perhaps I don’t
understand things, but Austria never has wished, and does
not wish, for war. She is betraying us! Russia alone must
save Europe. Our gracious sovereign recognizes his high
vocation and will be true to it. That is the one thing I have
faith in! Our good and wonderful sovereign has to
perform the noblest role on earth, and he is so virtuous
and noble that God will not forsake him. He will fulfill his
vocation and crush the hydra of revolution, which has
become more terrible than ever in the person of this
murderer and villain! We alone must avenge the blood of
the just one.... Whom, I ask you, can we rely on?...
England with her commercial spirit will not and cannot
understand the Emperor Alexander’s loftiness of soul. She
has refused to evacuate Malta. She wanted to find, and
still seeks, some secret motive in our actions. What
answer did Novosiltsev get? None. The English have not
understood and cannot understand the self-abnegation of
our Emperor who wants nothing for himself, but only War and Peace
7 of 2882
desires the good of mankind. And what have they
promised? Nothing! And what little they have promised
they will not perform! Prussia has always declared that
Buonaparte is invincible, and that all Europe is powerless
before him.... And I don’t believe a word that Hardenburg
says, or Haugwitz either. This famous Prussian neutrality
is just a trap. I have faith only in God and the lofty destiny
of our adored monarch. He will save Europe!’
She suddenly paused, smiling at her own impetuosity.
‘I think,’ said the prince with a smile, ‘that if you had
been sent instead of our dear Wintzingerode you would
have captured the King of Prussia’s consent by assault.
You are so eloquent. Will you give me a cup of tea?’
‘In a moment. A propos,’ she added, becoming calm
again, ‘I am expecting two very interesting men tonight,
le Vicomte de Mortemart, who is connected with the
Montmorencys through the Rohans, one of the best
French families. He is one of the genuine emigres, the
good ones. And also the Abbe Morio. Do you know that
profound thinker? He has been received by the Emperor.
Had you heard?’
‘I shall be delighted to meet them,’ said the prince.
‘But tell me,’ he added with studied carelessness as if it
had only just occurred to him, though the question he was War and Peace
8 of 2882
about to ask was the chief motive of his visit, ‘is it true
that the Dowager Empress wants Baron Funke to be
appointed first secretary at Vienna? The baron by all
accounts is a poor creature.’
Prince Vasili wished to obtain this post for his son, but
others were trying through the Dowager Empress Marya
Fedorovna to secure it for the baron.
Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to indicate that
neither she nor anyone else had a right to criticize what
the Empress desired or was pleased with.
‘Baron Funke has been recommended to the Dowager
Empress by her sister,’ was all she said, in a dry and
mournful tone.
As she named the Empress, Anna Pavlovna’s face
suddenly assumed an expression of profound and sincere
devotion and respect mingled with sadness, and this
occurred every time she mentioned her illustrious
patroness. She added that Her Majesty had deigned to
show Baron Funke beaucoup d’estime, and again her face
clouded over with sadness.
The prince was silent and looked indifferent. But, with
the womanly and courtierlike quickness and tact habitual
to her, Anna Pavlovna wished both to rebuke him (for
daring to speak he had done of a man recommended to the War and Peace
9 of 2882
Empress) and at the same time to console him, so she
said:
‘Now about your family. Do you know that since your
daughter came out everyone has been enraptured by her?
They say she is amazingly beautiful.’
The prince bowed to signify his respect and gratitude.
‘I often think,’ she continued after a short pause,
drawing nearer to the prince and smiling amiably at him
as if to show that political and social topics were ended
and the time had come for intimate conversation- ‘I often
think how unfairly sometimes the joys of life are
distributed. Why has fate given you two such splendid
children? I don’t speak of Anatole, your youngest. I don’t
like him,’ she added in a tone admitting of no rejoinder
and raising her eyebrows. ‘Two such charming children.
And really you appreciate them less than anyone, and so
you don’t deserve to have them.’
And she smiled her ecstatic smile.
‘I can’t help it,’ said the prince. ‘Lavater would have
said I lack the bump of paternity.’
‘Don’t joke; I mean to have a serious talk with you. Do
you know I am dissatisfied with your younger son?
Between ourselves’ (and her face assumed its melancholy War and Peace
10 of 2882
expression), ‘he was mentioned at Her Majesty’s and you
were pitied...’
The prince answered nothing, but she looked at him
significantly, awaiting a reply. He frowned.
‘What would you have me do?’ he said at last. ‘You
know I did all a father could for their education, and they
have both turned out fools. Hippolyte is at least a quiet
fool, but Anatole is an active one. That is the only
difference between them.’ He said this smiling in a way
more natural and animated than usual, so that the wrinkles
round his mouth very clearly revealed something
unexpectedly coarse and unpleasant.
‘And why are children born to such men as you? If you
were not a father there would be nothing I could reproach
you with,’ said Anna Pavlovna, looking up pensively.
‘I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess
that my children are the bane of my life. It is the cross I
have to bear. That is how I explain it to myself. It can’t be
helped!’
He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel
fate by a gesture. Anna Pavlovna meditated.
‘Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal
son Anatole?’ she asked. ‘They say old maids have a
mania for matchmaking, and though I don’t feel that War and Peace
11 of 2882
weakness in myself as yet,I know a little person who is
very unhappy with her father. She is a relation of yours,
Princess Mary Bolkonskaya.’
Prince Vasili did not reply, though, with the quickness
of memory and perception befitting a man of the world,
he indicated by a movement of the head that he was
considering this information.
‘Do you know,’ he said at last, evidently unable to
check the sad current of his thoughts, ‘that Anatole is
costing me forty thousand rubles a year? And,’ he went
on after a pause, ‘what will it be in five years, if he goes
on like this?’ Presently he added: ‘That’s what we fathers
have to put up with.... Is this princess of yours rich?’
‘Her father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the
country. He is the well-known Prince Bolkonski who had
to retire from the army under the late Emperor, and was
nicknamed ‘the King of Prussia.’ He is very clever but
eccentric, and a bore. The poor girl is very unhappy. She
has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise
Meinen lately. He is an aide-de-camp of Kutuzov’s and
will be here tonight.’
‘Listen, dear Annette,’ said the prince, suddenly taking
Anna Pavlovna’s hand and for some reason drawing it
downwards. ‘Arrange that affair for me and I shall always War and Peace
12 of 2882
be your most devoted slave- slafe wigh an f, as a village
elder of mine writes in his reports. She is rich and of good
family and that’s all I want.’
And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to
him, he raised the maid of honor’s hand to his lips, kissed
it, and swung it to and fro as he lay back in his armchair,
looking in another direction.
‘Attendez,’ said Anna Pavlovna, reflecting, ‘I’ll speak
to Lise, young Bolkonski’s wife, this very evening, and
perhaps the thing can be arranged. It shall be on your
family’s behalf that I’ll start my apprenticeship as old
maid.’ War and Peace
13 of 2882
Chapter II
Anna Pavlovna’s drawing room was gradually filling.
The highest Petersburg society was assembled there:
people differing widely in age and character but alike in
the social circle to which they belonged. Prince Vasili’s
daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her father to
the ambassador’s entertainment; she wore a ball dress and
her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess
Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de
Petersbourg,* was also there. She had been married
during the previous winter, and being pregnant did not go
to any large gatherings, but only to small receptions.
Prince Vasili’s son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart,
whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others
had also come.
*The most fascinating woman in Petersburg.
To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, ‘You have
not yet seen my aunt,’ or ‘You do not know my aunt?’
and very gravely conducted him or her to a little old lady,
wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who had come
sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began
to arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to War and Peace
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her aunt, Anna Pavlovna mentioned each one’s name and
then left them.
Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this
old aunt whom not one of them knew, not one of them
wanted to know, and not one of them cared about; Anna
Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful and
solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to
each of them in the same words, about their health and her
own, and the health of Her Majesty, ‘who, thank God,
was better today.’ And each visitor, though politeness
prevented his showing impatience, left the old woman
with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious
duty and did not return to her the whole evening.
The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some
work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little
upper lip, on which a delicate dark down was just
perceptible, was too short for her teeth, but it lifted all the
more sweetly, and was especially charming when she
occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is
always the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her
defect- the shortness of her upper lip and her half-open
mouth- seemed to be her own special and peculiar form of
beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of this pretty
young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life War and Peace
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and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men
and dull dispirited young ones who looked at her, after
being in her company and talking to her a little while, felt
as if they too were becoming, like her, full of life and
health. All who talked to her, and at each word saw her
bright smile and the constant gleam of her white teeth,
thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that
day.
The little princess went round the table with quick,
short, swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily
spreading out her dress sat down on a sofa near the silver
samovar, as if all she was doing was a pleasure to herself
and to all around her. ‘I have brought my work,’ said she
in French, displaying her bag and addressing all present.
‘Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked
trick on me,’ she added, turning to her hostess. ‘You
wrote that it was to be quite a small reception, and just see
how badly I am dressed.’ And she spread out her arms to
show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, dainty gray dress,
girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast.
‘Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier
than anyone else,’ replied Anna Pavlovna.
‘You know,’ said the princess in the same tone of
voice and still in French, turning to a general, ‘my War and Peace
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husband is deserting me? He is going to get himself
killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?’ she added,
addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an
answer she turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful
Helene.
‘What a delightful woman this little princess is!’ said
Prince Vasili to Anna Pavlovna.
One of the next arrivals was a stout, heavily built
young man with close-cropped hair, spectacles, the lightcolored
breeches fashionable at that time, a very high
ruffle, and a brown dress coat. This stout young man was
an illegitimate son of Count Bezukhov, a well-known
grandee of Catherine’s time who now lay dying in
Moscow. The young man had not yet entered either the
military or civil service, as he had only just returned from
abroad where he had been educated, and this was his first
appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with
the nod she accorded to the lowest hierarchy in her
drawing room. But in spite of this lowest-grade greeting,
a look of anxiety and fear, as at the sight of something too
large and unsuited to the place, came over her face when
she saw Pierre enter. Though he was certainly rather
bigger than the other men in the room, her anxiety could
only have reference to the clever though shy, but War and Peace
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observant and natural, expression which distinguished
him from everyone else in that drawing room.
‘It is very good of you, Monsieur Pierre, to come and
visit a poor invalid,’ said Anna Pavlovna, exchanging an
alarmed glance with her aunt as she conducted him to her.
Pierre murmured something unintelligible, and
continued to look round as if in search of something. On
his way to the aunt he bowed to the little princess with a
pleased smile, as to an intimate acquaintance.
Anna Pavlovna’s alarm was justified, for Pierre turned
away from the aunt without waiting to hear her speech
about Her Majesty’s health. Anna Pavlovna in dismay
detained him with the words: ‘Do you know the Abbe
Morio? He is a most interesting man.’
‘Yes, I have heard of his scheme for perpetual peace,
and it is very interesting but hardly feasible.’
‘You think so?’ rejoined Anna Pavlovna in order to say
something and get away to attend to her duties as hostess.
But Pierre now committed a reverse act of impoliteness.
First he had left a lady before she had finished speaking to
him, and now he continued to speak to another who
wished to get away. With his head bent, and his big feet
spread apart, he began explaining his reasons for thinking
the abbe’s plan chimerical. War and Peace
18 of 2882
‘We will talk of it later,’ said Anna Pavlovna with a
smile.
And having got rid of this young man who did not
know how to behave, she resumed her duties as hostess
and continued to listen and watch, ready to help at any
point where the conversation might happen to flag. As the
foreman of a spinning mill, when he has set the hands to
work, goes round and notices here a spindle that has
stopped or there one that creaks or makes more noise than
it should, and hastens to check the machine or set it in
proper motion, so Anna Pavlovna moved about her
drawing room, approaching now a silent, now a too-noisy
group, and by a word or slight rearrangement kept the
conversational machine in steady, proper, and regular
motion. But amid these cares her anxiety about Pierre was
evident. She kept an anxious watch on him when he
approached the group round Mortemart to listen to what
was being said there, and again when he passed to another
group whose center was the abbe.
Pierre had been educated abroad, and this reception at
Anna Pavlovna’s was the first he had attended in Russia.
He knew that all the intellectual lights of Petersburg were
gathered there and, like a child in a toyshop, did not know
which way to look, afraid of missing any clever War and Peace
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conversation that was to be heard. Seeing the selfconfident
and refined expression on the faces of those
present he was always expecting to hear something very
profound. At last he came up to Morio. Here the
conversation seemed interesting and he stood waiting for
an opportunity to express his own views, as young people
are fond of doing. War and Peace
20 of 2882
Chapter III
Anna Pavlovna’s reception was in full swing. The
spindles hummed steadily and ceaselessly on all sides.
With the exception of the aunt, beside whom sat only one
elderly lady, who with her thin careworn face was rather
out of place in this brilliant society, the whole company
had settled into three groups. One, chiefly masculine, had
formed round the abbe. Another, of young people, was
grouped round the beautiful Princess Helene, Prince
Vasili’s daughter, and the little Princess Bolkonskaya,
very pretty and rosy, though rather too plump for her age.
The third group was gathered round Mortemart and Anna
Pavlovna.
The vicomte was a nice-looking young man with soft
features and polished manners, who evidently considered
himself a celebrity but out of politeness modestly placed
himself at the disposal of the circle in which he found
himself. Anna Pavlovna was obviously serving him up as
a treat to her guests. As a clever maitre d’hotel serves up
as a specially choice delicacy a piece of meat that no one
who had seen it in the kitchen would have cared to eat, so
Anna Pavlovna served up to her guests, first the vicomte War and Peace
21 of 2882
and then the abbe, as peculiarly choice morsels. The
group about Mortemart immediately began discussing the
murder of the Duc d’Enghien. The vicomte said that the
Duc d’Enghien had perished by his own magnanimity,
and that there were particular reasons for Buonaparte’s
hatred of him.
‘Ah, yes! Do tell us all about it, Vicomte,’ said Anna
Pavlovna, with a pleasant feeling that there was
something a la Louis XV in the sound of that sentence:
‘Contez nous cela, Vicomte.’
The vicomte bowed and smiled courteously in token of
his willingness to comply. Anna Pavlovna arranged a
group round him, inviting everyone to listen to his tale.
‘The vicomte knew the duc personally,’ whispered
Anna Pavlovna to of the guests. ‘The vicomte is a
wonderful raconteur,’ said she to another. ‘How evidently
he belongs to the best society,’ said she to a third; and the
vicomte was served up to the company in the choicest and
most advantageous style, like a well-garnished joint of
roast beef on a hot dish.
The vicomte wished to begin his story and gave a
subtle smile. War and Peace
22 of 2882
‘Come over here, Helene, dear,’ said Anna Pavlovna to
the beautiful young princess who was sitting some way
off, the center of another group.
The princess smiled. She rose with the same
unchanging smile with which she had first entered the
room- the smile of a perfectly beautiful woman. With a
slight rustle of her white dress trimmed with moss and
ivy, with a gleam of white shoulders, glossy hair, and
sparkling diamonds, she passed between the men who
made way for her, not looking at any of them but smiling
on all, as if graciously allowing each the privilege of
admiring her beautiful figure and shapely shoulders, back,
and bosom- which in the fashion of those days were very
much exposed- and she seemed to bring the glamour of a
ballroom with her as she moved toward Anna Pavlovna.
Helene was so lovely that not only did she not show any
trace of coquetry, but on the contrary she even appeared
shy of her unquestionable and all too victorious beauty.
She seemed to wish, but to be unable, to diminish its
effect.
‘How lovely!’ said everyone who saw her; and the
vicomte lifted his shoulders and dropped his eyes as if
startled by something extraordinary when she took her War and Peace
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seat opposite and beamed upon him also with her
unchanging smile.
‘Madame, I doubt my ability before such an audience,’
said he, smilingly inclining his head.
The princess rested her bare round arm on a little table
and considered a reply unnecessary. She smilingly waited.
All the time the story was being told she sat upright,
glancing now at her beautiful round arm, altered in shape
by its pressure on the table, now at her still more beautiful
bosom, on which she readjusted a diamond necklace.
From time to time she smoothed the folds of her dress,
and whenever the story produced an effect she glanced at
Anna Pavlovna, at once adopted just the expression she
saw on the maid of honor’s face, and again relapsed into
her radiant smile.
The little princess had also left the tea table and
followed Helene.
‘Wait a moment, I’ll get my work.... Now then, what
are you thinking of?’ she went on, turning to Prince
Hippolyte. ‘Fetch me my workbag.’
There was a general movement as the princess, smiling
and talking merrily to everyone at once, sat down and
gaily arranged herself in her seat. War and Peace
24 of 2882
‘Now I am all right,’ she said, and asking the vicomte
to begin, she took up her work.
Prince Hippolyte, having brought the workbag, joined
the circle and moving a chair close to hers seated himself
beside her.
Le charmant Hippolyte was surprising by his
extraordinary resemblance to his beautiful sister, but yet
more by the fact that in spite of this resemblance he was
exceedingly ugly. His features were like his sister’s, but
while in her case everything was lit up by a joyous, selfsatisfied,
youthful, and constant smile of animation, and
by the wonderful classic beauty of her figure, his face on
the contrary was dulled by imbecility and a constant
expression of sullen self-confidence, while his body was
thin and weak. His eyes, nose, and mouth all seemed
puckered into a vacant, wearied grimace, and his arms
and legs always fell into unnatural positions.
‘It’s not going to be a ghost story?’ said he, sitting
down beside the princess and hastily adjusting his
lorgnette, as if without this instrument he could not begin
to speak.
‘Why no, my dear fellow,’ said the astonished narrator,
shrugging his shoulders. War and Peace
25 of 2882
‘Because I hate ghost stories,’ said Prince Hippolyte in
a tone which showed that he only understood the meaning
of his words after he had uttered them.
He spoke with such self-confidence that his hearers
could not be sure whether what he said was very witty or
very stupid. He was dressed in a dark-green dress coat,
knee breeches of the color of cuisse de nymphe effrayee,
as he called it, shoes, and silk stockings.
The vicomte told his tale very neatly. It was an
anecdote, then current, to the effect that the Duc
d’Enghien had gone secretly to Paris to visit
Mademoiselle George; that at her house he came upon
Bonaparte, who also enjoyed the famous actress’ favors,
and that in his presence Napoleon happened to fall into
one of the fainting fits to which he was subject, and was
thus at the duc’s mercy. The latter spared him, and this
magnanimity Bonaparte subsequently repaid by death.
The story was very pretty and interesting, especially at
the point where the rivals suddenly recognized one
another; and the ladies looked agitated.
‘Charming!’ said Anna Pavlovna with an inquiring
glance at the little princess.
‘Charming!’ whispered the little princess, sticking the
needle into her work as if to testify that the interest and War and Peace
26 of 2882
fascination of the story prevented her from going on with
it.
The vicomte appreciated this silent praise and smiling
gratefully prepared to continue, but just then Anna
Pavlovna, who had kept a watchful eye on the young man
who so alarmed her, noticed that he was talking too
loudly and vehemently with the abbe, so she hurried to
the rescue. Pierre had managed to start a conversation
with the abbe about the balance of power, and the latter,
evidently interested by the young man’s simple-minded
eagerness, was explaining his pet theory. Both were
talking and listening too eagerly and too naturally, which
was why Anna Pavlovna disapproved.
‘The means are... the balance of power in Europe and
the rights of the people,’ the abbe was saying. ‘It is only
necessary for one powerful nation like Russia- barbaric as
she is said to be- to place herself disinterestedly at the
head of an alliance having for its object the maintenance
of the balance of power of Europe, and it would save the
world!’
‘But how are you to get that balance?’ Pierre was
beginning.
At that moment Anna Pavlovna came up and, looking
severely at Pierre, asked the Italian how he stood Russian War and Peace
27 of 2882
climate. The Italian’s face instantly changed and assumed
an offensively affected, sugary expression, evidently
habitual to him when conversing with women.
‘I am so enchanted by the brilliancy of the wit and
culture of the society, more especially of the feminine
society, in which I have had the honor of being received,
that I have not yet had time to think of the climate,’ said
he.
Not letting the abbe and Pierre escape, Anna Pavlovna,
the more conveniently to keep them under observation,
brought them into the larger circle. War and Peace
28 of 2882
Chapter IV
Just them another visitor entered the drawing room:
Prince Andrew Bolkonski, the little princess’ husband. He
was a very handsome young man, of medium height, with
firm, clearcut features. Everything about him, from his
weary, bored expression to his quiet, measured step,
offered a most striking contrast to his quiet, little wife. It
was evident that he not only knew everyone in the
drawing room, but had found them to be so tiresome that
it wearied him to look at or listen to them. And among all
these faces that he found so tedious, none seemed to bore
him so much as that of his pretty wife. He turned away
from her with a grimace that distorted his handsome face,
kissed Anna Pavlovna’s hand, and screwing up his eyes
scanned the whole company.
‘You are off to the war, Prince?’ said Anna Pavlovna.
‘General Kutuzov,’ said Bolkonski, speaking French
and stressing the last syllable of the general’s name like a
Frenchman, ‘has been pleased to take me as an aide-decamp...’
‘And Lise, your wife?’
‘She will go to the country.’ War and Peace
29 of 2882
‘Are you not ashamed to deprive us of your charming
wife?’
‘Andre,’ said his wife, addressing her husband in the
same coquettish manner in which she spoke to other men,
‘the vicomte has been telling us such a tale about
Mademoiselle George and Buonaparte!’
Prince Andrew screwed up his eyes and turned away.
Pierre, who from the moment Prince Andrew entered the
room had watched him with glad, affectionate eyes, now
came up and took his arm. Before he looked round Prince
Andrew frowned again, expressing his annoyance with
whoever was touching his arm, but when he saw Pierre’s
beaming face he gave him an unexpectedly kind and
pleasant smile.
‘There now!... So you, too, are in the great world?’
said he to Pierre.
‘I knew you would be here,’ replied Pierre. ‘I will
come to supper with you. May I?’ he added in a low voice
so as not to disturb the vicomte who was continuing his
story.
‘No, impossible!’ said Prince Andrew, laughing and
pressing Pierre’s hand to show that there was no need to
ask the question. He wished to say something more, but at War and Peace
30 of 2882
that moment Prince Vasili and his daughter got up to go
and the two young men rose to let them pass.
‘You must excuse me, dear Vicomte,’ said Prince
Vasili to the Frenchman, holding him down by the sleeve
in a friendly way to prevent his rising. ‘This unfortunate
fete at the ambassador’s deprives me of a pleasure, and
obliges me to interrupt you. I am very sorry to leave your
enchanting party,’ said he, turning to Anna Pavlovna.
His daughter, Princess Helene, passed between the
chairs, lightly holding up the folds of her dress, and the
smile shone still more radiantly on her beautiful face.
Pierre gazed at her with rapturous, almost frightened, eyes
as she passed him.
‘Very lovely,’ said Prince Andrew.
‘Very,’ said Pierre.
In passing Prince Vasili seized Pierre’s hand and said
to Anna Pavlovna: ‘Educate this bear for me! He has been
staying with me a whole month and this is the first time I
have seen him in society. Nothing is so necessary for a
young man as the society of clever women.’
Anna Pavlovna smiled and promised to take Pierre in
hand. She knew his father to be a connection of Prince
Vasili’s. The elderly lady who had been sitting with the
old aunt rose hurriedly and overtook Prince Vasili in the War and Peace
31 of 2882
anteroom. All the affectation of interest she had assumed
had left her kindly and tearworn face and it now
expressed only anxiety and fear.
‘How about my son Boris, Prince?’ said she, hurrying
after him into the anteroom. ‘I can’t remain any longer in
Petersburg. Tell me what news I may take back to my
poor boy.’
Although Prince Vasili listened reluctantly and not
very politely to the elderly lady, even betraying some
impatience, she gave him an ingratiating and appealing
smile, and took his hand that he might not go away.
‘What would it cost you to say a word to the Emperor,
and then he would be transferred to the Guards at once?’
said she.
‘Believe me, Princess, I am ready to do all I can,’
answered Prince Vasili, ‘but it is difficult for me to ask
the Emperor. I should advise you to appeal to
Rumyantsev through Prince Golitsyn. That would be the
best way.’
The elderly lady was a Princess Drubetskaya,
belonging to one of the best families in Russia, but she
was poor, and having long been out of society had lost her
former influential connections. She had now come to
Petersburg to procure an appointment in the Guards for War and Peace
32 of 2882
her only son. It was, in fact, solely to meet Prince Vasili
that she had obtained an invitation to Anna Pavlovna’s
reception and had sat listening to the vicomte’s story.
Prince Vasili’s words frightened her, an embittered look
clouded her once handsome face, but only for a moment;
then she smiled again and dutched Prince Vasili’s arm
more tightly.
‘Listen to me, Prince,’ said she. ‘I have never yet asked
you for anything and I never will again, nor have I ever
reminded you of my father’s friendship for you; but now I
entreat you for God’s sake to do this for my son- and I
shall always regard you as a benefactor,’ she added
hurriedly. ‘No, don’t be angry, but promise! I have asked
Golitsyn and he has refused. Be the kindhearted man you
always were,’ she said, trying to smile though tears were
in her eyes.
‘Papa, we shall be late,’ said Princess Helene, turning
her beautiful head and looking over her classically
molded shoulder as she stood waiting by the door.
Influence in society, however, is a capital which has to
be economized if it is to last. Prince Vasili knew this, and
having once realized that if he asked on behalf of all who
begged of him, he would soon be unable to ask for
himself, he became chary of using his influence. But in War and Peace
33 of 2882
Princess Drubetskaya’s case he felt, after her second
appeal, something like qualms of conscience. She had
reminded him of what was quite true; he had been
indebted to her father for the first steps in his career.
Moreover, he could see by her manners that she was one
of those women- mostly mothers- who, having once made
up their minds, will not rest until they have gained their
end, and are prepared if necessary to go on insisting day
after day and hour after hour, and even to make scenes.
This last consideration moved him.
‘My dear Anna Mikhaylovna,’ said he with his usual
familiarity and weariness of tone, ‘it is almost impossible
for me to do what you ask; but to prove my devotion to
you and how I respect your father’s memory, I will do the
impossible- your son shall be transferred to the Guards.
Here is my hand on it. Are you satisfied?’
‘My dear benefactor! This is what I expected from
you- I knew your kindness!’ He turned to go.
‘Wait- just a word! When he has been transferred to
the Guards...’ she faltered. ‘You are on good terms with
Michael Ilarionovich Kutuzov... recommend Boris to him
as adjutant! Then I shall be at rest, and then..’
Prince Vasili smiled. War and Peace
34 of 2882
‘No, I won’t promise that. You don’t know how
Kutuzov is pestered since his appointment as Commander
in Chief. He told me himself that all the Moscow ladies
have conspired to give him all their sons as adjutants.’
‘No, but do promise! I won’t let you go! My dear
benefactor..’
‘Papa,’ said his beautiful daughter in the same tone as
before, ‘we shall be late.’
‘Well, au revoir! Good-by! You hear her?’
‘Then tomorrow you will speak to the Emperor?’
‘Certainly; but about Kutuzov, I don’t promise.’
‘Do promise, do promise, Vasili!’ cried Anna
Mikhaylovna as he went, with the smile of a coquettish
girl, which at one time probably came naturally to her, but
was now very ill-suited to her careworn face.
Apparently she had forgotten her age and by force of
habit employed all the old feminine arts. But as soon as
the prince had gone her face resumed its former cold,
artificial expression. She returned to the group where the
vicomte was still talking, and again pretended to listen,
while waiting till it would be time to leave. Her task was
accomplished. War and Peace
35 of 2882
Chapter V
‘And what do you think of this latest comedy, the
coronation at Milan?’ asked Anna Pavlovna, ‘and of the
comedy of the people of Genoa and Lucca laying their
petitions before Monsieur Buonaparte, and Monsieur
Buonaparte sitting on a throne and granting the petitions
of the nations? Adorable! It is enough to make one’s head
whirl! It is as if the whole world had gone crazy.’
Prince Andrew looked Anna Pavlovna straight in the
face with a sarcastic smile.
‘‘Dieu me la donne, gare a qui la touche!’* They say
he was very fine when he said that,’ he remarked,
repeating the words in Italian: ‘‘Dio mi l’ha dato. Guai a
chi la tocchi!’’
*God has given it to me, let him who touches it
beware!
‘I hope this will prove the last drop that will make the
glass run over,’ Anna Pavlovna continued. ‘The
sovereigns will not be able to endure this man who is a
menace to everything.’
‘The sovereigns? I do not speak of Russia,’ said the
vicomte, polite but hopeless: ‘The sovereigns, madame... War and Peace
36 of 2882
What have they done for Louis XVII, for the Queen, or
for Madame Elizabeth? Nothing!’ and he became more
animated. ‘And believe me, they are reaping the reward of
their betrayal of the Bourbon cause. The sovereigns!
Why, they are sending ambassadors to compliment the
usurper.’
And sighing disdainfully, he again changed his
position.
Prince Hippolyte, who had been gazing at the vicomte
for some time through his lorgnette, suddenly turned
completely round toward the little princess, and having
asked for a needle began tracing the Conde coat of arms
on the table. He explained this to her with as much gravity
as if she had asked him to do it.
‘Baton de gueules, engrele de gueules d’ azur- maison
Conde,’ said he.
The princess listened, smiling.
‘If Buonaparte remains on the throne of France a year
longer,’ the vicomte continued, with the air of a man who,
in a matter with which he is better acquainted than anyone
else, does not listen to others but follows the current of his
own thoughts, ‘things will have gone too far. By intrigues,
violence, exile, and executions, French society- I mean War and Peace
37 of 2882
good French society- will have been forever destroyed,
and then..’
He shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands.
Pierre wished to make a remark, for the conversation
interested him, but Anna Pavlovna, who had him under
observation, interrupted:
‘The Emperor Alexander,’ said she, with the
melancholy which always accompanied any reference of
hers to the Imperial family, ‘has declared that he will
leave it to the French people themselves to choose their
own form of government; and I believe that once free
from the usurper, the whole nation will certainly throw
itself into the arms of its rightful king,’ she concluded,
trying to be amiable to the royalist emigrant.
‘That is doubtful,’ said Prince Andrew. ‘Monsieur le
Vicomte quite rightly supposes that matters have already
gone too far. I think it will be difficult to return to the old
regime.’
‘From what I have heard,’ said Pierre, blushing and
breaking into the conversation, ‘almost all the aristocracy
has already gone over to Bonaparte’s side.’
‘It is the Buonapartists who say that,’ replied the
vicomte without looking at Pierre. ‘At the present time it
is difficult to know the real state of French public opinion. War and Peace
38 of 2882
‘Bonaparte has said so,’ remarked Prince Andrew with
a sarcastic smile.
It was evident that he did not like the vicomte and was
aiming his remarks at him, though without looking at him.
‘‘I showed them the path to glory, but they did not
follow it,’’ Prince Andrew continued after a short silence,
again quoting Napoleon’s words. ‘‘I opened my
antechambers and they crowded in.’ I do not know how
far he was justified in saying so.’
‘Not in the least,’ replied the vicomte. ‘After the
murder of the duc even the most partial ceased to regard
him as a hero. If to some people,’ he went on, turning to
Anna Pavlovna, ‘he ever was a hero, after the murder of
the duc there was one martyr more in heaven and one
hero less on earth.’
Before Anna Pavlovna and the others had time to smile
their appreciation of the vicomte’s epigram, Pierre again
broke into the conversation, and though Anna Pavlovna
felt sure he would say something inappropriate, she was
unable to stop him.
‘The execution of the Duc d’Enghien,’ declared
Monsieur Pierre, ‘was a political necessity, and it seems
to me that Napoleon showed greatness of soul by not War and Peace
39 of 2882
fearing to take on himself the whole responsibility of that
deed.’
‘Dieu! Mon Dieu!’ muttered Anna Pavlovna in a
terrified whisper.
‘What, Monsieur Pierre... Do you consider that
assassination shows greatness of soul?’ said the little
princess, smiling and drawing her work nearer to her.
‘Oh! Oh!’ exclaimed several voices.
‘Capital!’ said Prince Hippolyte in English, and began
slapping his knee with the palm of his hand.
The vicomte merely shrugged his shoulders. Pierre
looked solemnly at his audience over his spectacles and
continued.
‘I say so,’ he continued desperately, ‘because the
Bourbons fled from the Revolution leaving the people to
anarchy, and Napoleon alone understood the Revolution
and quelled it, and so for the general good, he could not
stop short for the sake of one man’s life.’
‘Won’t you come over to the other table?’ suggested
Anna Pavlovna.
But Pierre continued his speech without heeding her.
‘No,’ cried he, becoming more and more eager,
‘Napoleon is great because he rose superior to the
Revolution, suppressed its abuses, preserved all that was War and Peace
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good in it- equality of citizenship and freedom of speech
and of the press- and only for that reason did he obtain
power.’
‘Yes, if having obtained power, without availing
himself of it to commit murder he had restored it to the
rightful king, I should have called him a great man,’
remarked the vicomte.
‘He could not do that. The people only gave him power
that he might rid them of the Bourbons and because they
saw that he was a great man. The Revolution was a grand
thing!’ continued Monsieur Pierre, betraying by this
desperate and provocative proposition his extreme youth
and his wish to express all that was in his mind.
‘What? Revolution and regicide a grand thing?... Well,
after that... But won’t you come to this other table?’
repeated Anna Pavlovna.
‘Rousseau’s Contrat social,’ said the vicomte with a
tolerant smile.
‘I am not speaking of regicide, I am speaking about
ideas.’
‘Yes: ideas of robbery, murder, and regicide,’ again
interjected an ironical voice.
‘Those were extremes, no doubt, but they are not what
is most important. What is important are the rights of War and Peace
41 of 2882
man, emancipation from prejudices, and equality of
citizenship, and all these ideas Napoleon has retained in
full force.’
‘Liberty and equality,’ said the vicomte
contemptuously, as if at last deciding seriously to prove to
this youth how foolish his words were, ‘high-sounding
words which have long been discredited. Who does not
love liberty and equality? Even our Saviour preached
liberty and equality. Have people since the Revolution
become happier? On the contrary. We wanted liberty, but
Buonaparte has destroyed it.’
Prince Andrew kept looking with an amused smile
from Pierre to the vicomte and from the vicomte to their
hostess. In the first moment of Pierre’s outburst Anna
Pavlovna, despite her social experience, was horrorstruck.
But when she saw that Pierre’s sacrilegious words
had not exasperated the vicomte, and had convinced
herself that it was impossible to stop him, she rallied her
forces and joined the vicomte in a vigorous attack on the
orator.
‘But, my dear Monsieur Pierre,’ said she, ‘how do you
explain the fact of a great man executing a duc- or even
an ordinary man who- is innocent and untried?’ War and Peace
42 of 2882
‘I should like,’ said the vicomte, ‘to ask how monsieur
explains the 18th Brumaire; was not that an imposture? It
was a swindle, and not at all like the conduct of a great
man!’
‘And the prisoners he killed in Africa? That was
horrible!’ said the little princess, shrugging her shoulders.
‘He’s a low fellow, say what you will,’ remarked
Prince Hippolyte.
Pierre, not knowing whom to answer, looked at them
all and smiled. His smile was unlike the half-smile of
other people. When he smiled, his grave, even rather
gloomy, look was instantaneously replaced by another- a
childlike, kindly, even rather silly look, which seemed to
ask forgiveness.
The vicomte who was meeting him for the first time
saw clearly that this young Jacobin was not so terrible as
his words suggested. All were silent.
‘How do you expect him to answer you all at once?’
said Prince Andrew. ‘Besides, in the actions of a
statesman one has to distinguish between his acts as a
private person, as a general, and as an emperor. So it
seems to me.’
‘Yes, yes, of course!’ Pierre chimed in, pleased at the
arrival of this reinforcement. War and Peace
43 of 2882
‘One must admit,’ continued Prince Andrew, ‘that
Napoleon as a man was great on the bridge of Arcola, and
in the hospital at Jaffa where he gave his hand to the
plague-stricken; but... but there are other acts which it is
difficult to justify.’
Prince Andrew, who had evidently wished to tone
down the awkwardness of Pierre’s remarks, rose and
made a sign to his wife that it was time to go.
Suddenly Prince Hippolyte started up making signs to
everyone to attend, and asking them all to be seated
began:
‘I was told a charming Moscow story today and must
treat you to it. Excuse me, Vicomte- I must tell it in
Russian or the point will be lost....’ And Prince Hippolyte
began to tell his story in such Russian as a Frenchman
would speak after spending about a year in Russia.
Everyone waited, so emphatically and eagerly did he
demand their attention to his story.
‘There is in Moscow a lady, une dame, and she is very
stingy. She must have two footmen behind her carriage,
and very big ones. That was her taste. And she had a
lady’s maid, also big. She said..’
Here Prince Hippolyte paused, evidently collecting his
ideas with difficulty. War and Peace
44 of 2882
‘She said... Oh yes! She said, ‘Girl,’ to the maid, ‘put
on a livery, get up behind the carriage, and come with me
while I make some calls.’’
Here Prince Hippolyte spluttered and burst out
laughing long before his audience, which produced an
effect unfavorable to the narrator. Several persons, among
them the elderly lady and Anna Pavlovna, did however
smile.
‘She went. Suddenly there was a great wind. The girl
lost her hat and her long hair came down....’ Here he
could contain himself no longer and went on, between
gasps of laughter: ‘And the whole world knew...’
And so the anecdote ended. Though it was
unintelligible why he had told it, or why it had to be told
in Russian, still Anna Pavlovna and the others appreciated
Prince Hippolyte’s social tact in so agreeably ending
Pierre’s unpleasant and unamiable outburst. After the
anecdote the conversation broke up into insignificant
small talk about the last and next balls, about theatricals,
and who would meet whom, and when and where. War and Peace
45 of 2882
Chapter VI
Having thanked Anna Pavlovna for her charming
soiree, the guests began to take their leave.
Pierre was ungainly. Stout, about the average height,
broad, with huge red hands; he did not know, as the
saying is, to enter a drawing room and still less how to
leave one; that is, how to say something particularly
agreeable before going away. Besides this he was absentminded.
When he rose to go, he took up instead of his
own, the general’s three-cornered hat, and held it, pulling
at the plume, till the general asked him to restore it. All
his absent-mindedness and inability to enter a room and
converse in it was, however, redeemed by his kindly,
simple, and modest expression. Anna Pavlovna turned
toward him and, with a Christian mildness that expressed
forgiveness of his indiscretion, nodded and said: ‘I hope
to see you again, but I also hope you will change your
opinions, my dear Monsieur Pierre.’
When she said this, he did not reply and only bowed,
but again everybody saw his smile, which said nothing,
unless perhaps, ‘Opinions are opinions, but you see what War and Peace
46 of 2882
a capital, good-natured fellow I am.’ And everyone,
including Anna Pavlovna, felt this.
Prince Andrew had gone out into the hall, and, turning
his shoulders to the footman who was helping him on
with his cloak, listened indifferently to his wife’s chatter
with Prince Hippolyte who had also come into the hall.
Prince Hippolyte stood close to the pretty, pregnant
princess, and stared fixedly at her through his eyeglass.
‘Go in, Annette, or you will catch cold,’ said the little
princess, taking leave of Anna Pavlovna. ‘It is settled,’
she added in a low voice.
Anna Pavlovna had already managed to speak to Lise
about the match she contemplated between Anatole and
the little princess’ sister-in-law.
‘I rely on you, my dear,’ said Anna Pavlovna, also in a
low tone. ‘Write to her and let me know how her father
looks at the matter. Au revoir!’- and she left the hall.
Prince Hippolyte approached the little princess and,
bending his face close to her, began to whisper
something.
Two footmen, the princess’ and his own, stood holding
a shawl and a cloak, waiting for the conversation to finish.
They listened to the French sentences which to them were
meaningless, with an air of understanding but not wishing War and Peace
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to appear to do so. The princess as usual spoke smilingly
and listened with a laugh.
‘I am very glad I did not go to the ambassador’s,’ said
Prince Hippolyte ‘-so dull-. It has been a delightful
evening, has it not? Delightful!’
‘They say the ball will be very good,’ replied the
princess, drawing up her downy little lip. ‘All the pretty
women in society will be there.’
‘Not all, for you will not be there; not all,’ said Prince
Hippolyte smiling joyfully; and snatching the shawl from
the footman, whom he even pushed aside, he began
wrapping it round the princess. Either from awkwardness
or intentionally (no one could have said which) after the
shawl had been adjusted he kept his arm around her for a
long time, as though embracing her.
Still smiling, she gracefully moved away, turning and
glancing at her husband. Prince Andrew’s eyes were
closed, so weary and sleepy did he seem.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked his wife, looking past her.
Prince Hippolyte hurriedly put on his cloak, which in
the latest fashion reached to his very heels, and, stumbling
in it, ran out into the porch following the princess, whom
a footman was helping into the carriage. War and Peace
48 of 2882
‘Princesse, au revoir,’ cried he, stumbling with his
tongue as well as with his feet.
The princess, picking up her dress, was taking her seat
in the dark carriage, her husband was adjusting his saber;
Prince Hippolyte, under pretense of helping, was in
everyone’s way.
‘Allow me, sir,’ said Prince Andrew in Russian in a
cold, disagreeable tone to Prince Hippolyte who was
blocking his path.
‘I am expecting you, Pierre,’ said the same voice, but
gently and affectionately.
The postilion started, the carriage wheels rattled.
Prince Hippolyte laughed spasmodically as he stood in the
porch waiting for the vicomte whom he had promised to
take home.
‘Well, mon cher,’ said the vicomte, having seated
himself beside Hippolyte in the carriage, ‘your little
princess is very nice, very nice indeed, quite French,’ and
he kissed the tips of his fingers. Hippolyte burst out
laughing.
‘Do you know, you are a terrible chap for all your
innocent airs,’ continued the vicomte. ‘I pity the poor
husband, that little officer who gives himself the airs of a
monarch.’ War and Peace
49 of 2882
Hippolyte spluttered again, and amid his laughter said,
‘And you were saying that the Russian ladies are not
equal to the French? One has to know how to deal with
them.’
Pierre reaching the house first went into Prince
Andrew’s study like one quite at home, and from habit
immediately lay down on the sofa, took from the shelf the
first book that came to his hand (it was Caesar’s
Commentaries), and resting on his elbow, began reading it
in the middle.
‘What have you done to Mlle Scherer? She will be
quite ill now,’ said Prince Andrew, as he entered the
study, rubbing his small white hands.
Pierre turned his whole body, making the sofa creak.
He lifted his eager face to Prince Andrew, smiled, and
waved his hand.
‘That abbe is very interesting but he does not see the
thing in the right light.... In my opinion perpetual peace is
possible but- I do not know how to express it... not by a
balance of political power...’
It was evident that Prince Andrew was not interested in
such abstract conversation.
‘One can’t everywhere say all one thinks, mon cher.
Well, have you at last decided on anything? Are you War and Peace
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going to be a guardsman or a diplomatist?’ asked Prince
Andrew after a momentary silence.
Pierre sat up on the sofa, with his legs tucked under
him.
‘Really, I don’t yet know. I don’t like either the one or
the other.’
‘But you must decide on something! Your father
expects it.’
Pierre at the age of ten had been sent abroad with an
abbe as tutor, and had remained away till he was twenty.
When he returned to Moscow his father dismissed the
abbe and said to the young man, ‘Now go to Petersburg,
look round, and choose your profession. I will agree to
anything. Here is a letter to Prince Vasili, and here is
money. Write to me all about it, and I will help you in
everything.’ Pierre had already been choosing a career for
three months, and had not decided on anything. It was
about this choice that Prince Andrew was speaking. Pierre
rubbed his forehead.
‘But he must be a Freemason,’ said he, referring to the
abbe whom he had met that evening.
‘That is all nonsense.’ Prince Andrew again interrupted
him, ‘let us talk business. Have you been to the Horse
Guards?’ War and Peace
51 of 2882
‘No, I have not; but this is what I have been thinking
and wanted to tell you. There is a war now against
Napoleon. If it were a war for freedom I could understand
it and should be the first to enter the army; but to help
England and Austria against the greatest man in the world
is not right.’
Prince Andrew only shrugged his shoulders at Pierre’s
childish words. He put on the air of one who finds it
impossible to reply to such nonsense, but it would in fact
have been difficult to give any other answer than the one
Prince Andrew gave to this naive question.
‘If no one fought except on his own conviction, there
would be no wars,’ he said.
‘And that would be splendid,’ said Pierre.
Prince Andrew smiled ironically.
‘Very likely it would be splendid, but it will never
come about..’
‘Well, why are you going to the war?’ asked Pierre.
‘What for? I don’t know. I must. Besides that I am
going...’ He paused. ‘I am going because the life I am
leading here does not suit me!’ War and Peace
52 of 2882
Chapter VII
The rustle of a woman’s dress was heard in the next
room. Prince Andrew shook himself as if waking up, and
his face assumed the look it had had in Anna Pavlovna’s
drawing room. Pierre removed his feet from the sofa. The
princess came in. She had changed her gown for a house
dress as fresh and elegant as the other. Prince Andrew
rose and politely placed a chair for her.
‘How is it,’ she began, as usual in French, settling
down briskly and fussily in the easy chair, ‘how is it
Annette never got married? How stupid you men all are
not to have married her! Excuse me for saying so, but you
have no sense about women. What an argumentative
fellow you are, Monsieur Pierre!’
‘And I am still arguing with your husband. I can’t
understand why he wants to go to the war,’ replied Pierre,
addressing the princess with none of the embarrassment
so commonly shown by young men in their intercourse
with young women.
The princess started. Evidently Pierre’s words touched
her to the quick. War and Peace
53 of 2882
‘Ah, that is just what I tell him!’ said she. ‘I don’t
understand it; I don’t in the least understand why men
can’t live without wars. How is it that we women don’t
want anything of the kind, don’t need it? Now you shall
judge between us. I always tell him: Here he is Uncle’s
aide-de-camp, a most brilliant position. He is so well
known, so much appreciated by everyone. The other day
at the Apraksins’ I heard a lady asking, ‘Is that the famous
Prince Andrew?’ I did indeed.’ She laughed. ‘He is so
well received everywhere. He might easily become aidede-camp
to the Emperor. You know the Emperor spoke to
him most graciously. Annette and I were speaking of how
to arrange it. What do you think?’
Pierre looked at his friend and, noticing that he did not
like the conversation, gave no reply.
‘When are you starting?’ he asked.
‘Oh, don’t speak of his going, don’t! I won’t hear it
spoken of,’ said the princess in the same petulantly
playful tone in which she had spoken to Hippolyte in the
drawing room and which was so plainly ill-suited to the
family circle of which Pierre was almost a member.
‘Today when I remembered that all these delightful
associations must be broken off... and then you know,
Andre...’ (she looked significantly at her husband) ‘I’m War and Peace
54 of 2882
afraid, I’m afraid!’ she whispered, and a shudder ran
down her back.
Her husband looked at her as if surprised to notice that
someone besides Pierre and himself was in the room, and
addressed her in a tone of frigid politeness.
‘What is it you are afraid of, Lise? I don’t understand,’
said he.
‘There, what egotists men all are: all, all egotists! Just
for a whim of his own, goodness only knows why, he
leaves me and locks me up alone in the country.’
‘With my father and sister, remember,’ said Prince
Andrew gently.
‘Alone all the same, without my friends.... And he
expects me not to be afraid.’
Her tone was now querulous and her lip drawn up,
giving her not a joyful, but an animal, squirrel-like
expression. She paused as if she felt it indecorous to
speak of her pregnancy before Pierre, though the gist of
the matter lay in that.
‘I still can’t understand what you are afraid of,’ said
Prince Andrew slowly, not taking his eyes off his wife.
The princess blushed, and raised her arms with a
gesture of despair. War and Peace
55 of 2882
‘No, Andrew, I must say you have changed. Oh, how
you have..’
‘Your doctor tells you to go to bed earlier,’ said Prince
Andrew. ‘You had better go.’
The princess said nothing, but suddenly her short
downy lip quivered. Prince Andrew rose, shrugged his
shoulders, and walked about the room.
Pierre looked over his spectacles with naive surprise,
now at him and now at her, moved as if about to rise too,
but changed his mind.
‘Why should I mind Monsieur Pierre being here?’
exclaimed the little princess suddenly, her pretty face all
at once distorted by a tearful grimace. ‘I have long wanted
to ask you, Andrew, why you have changed so to me?
What have I done to you? You are going to the war and
have no pity for me. Why is it?’
‘Lise!’ was all Prince Andrew said. But that one word
expressed an entreaty, a threat, and above all conviction
that she would herself regret her words. But she went on
hurriedly:
‘You treat me like an invalid or a child. I see it all! Did
you behave like that six months ago?’
‘Lise, I beg you to desist,’ said Prince Andrew still
more emphatically. War and Peace
Edit Your Profile
report abuse delete Anonymous (Legend) wrote on Mon, 26 Jan 2015 03:57:38 GMT reply
.‘If you have nothing better to do, Count [or Prince],
and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor
invalid is not too terrible, I shall be very charmed to see
you tonight between 7 and 10- Annette Scherer.’
‘Heavens! what a virulent attack!’ replied the prince,
not in the least disconcerted by this reception. He had just
entered, wearing an embroidered court uniform, knee
breeches, and shoes, and had stars on his breast and a
serene expression on his flat face. He spoke in that refined
French in which our grandfathers not only spoke but
thought, and with the gentle, patronizing intonation
natural to a man of importance who had grown old in
society and at court. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed
her hand, presenting to her his bald, scented, and shining
head, and complacently seated himself on the sofa.
‘First of all, dear friend, tell me how you are. Set your
friend’s mind at rest,’ said he without altering his tone,
beneath the politeness and affected sympathy of which
indifference and even irony could be discerned.
‘Can one be well while suffering morally? Can one be
calm in times like these if one has any feeling?’ said Anna
Pavlovna. ‘You are staying the whole evening, I hope?’ War and Peace
5 of 2882
‘And the fete at the English ambassador’s? Today is
Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there,’ said the
prince. ‘My daughter is coming for me to take me there.’
‘I thought today’s fete had been canceled. I confess all
these festivities and fireworks are becoming wearisome.’
‘If they had known that you wished it, the
entertainment would have been put off,’ said the prince,
who, like a wound-up clock, by force of habit said things
he did not even wish to be believed.
‘Don’t tease! Well, and what has been decided about
Novosiltsev’s dispatch? You know everything.’
‘What can one say about it?’ replied the prince in a
cold, listless tone. ‘What has been decided? They have
decided that Buonaparte has burnt his boats, and I believe
that we are ready to burn ours.’
Prince Vasili always spoke languidly, like an actor
repeating a stale part. Anna Pavlovna Scherer on the
contrary, despite her forty years, overflowed with
animation and impulsiveness. To be an enthusiast had
become her social vocation and, sometimes even when
she did not feel like it, she became enthusiastic in order
not to disappoint the expectations of those who knew her.
The subdued smile which, though it did not suit her faded
features, always played round her lips expressed, as in a War and Peace
6 of 2882
spoiled child, a continual consciousness of her charming
defect, which she neither wished, nor could, nor
considered it necessary, to correct.
In the midst of a conversation on political matters
Anna Pavlovna burst out:
‘Oh, don’t speak to me of Austria. Perhaps I don’t
understand things, but Austria never has wished, and does
not wish, for war. She is betraying us! Russia alone must
save Europe. Our gracious sovereign recognizes his high
vocation and will be true to it. That is the one thing I have
faith in! Our good and wonderful sovereign has to
perform the noblest role on earth, and he is so virtuous
and noble that God will not forsake him. He will fulfill his
vocation and crush the hydra of revolution, which has
become more terrible than ever in the person of this
murderer and villain! We alone must avenge the blood of
the just one.... Whom, I ask you, can we rely on?...
England with her commercial spirit will not and cannot
understand the Emperor Alexander’s loftiness of soul. She
has refused to evacuate Malta. She wanted to find, and
still seeks, some secret motive in our actions. What
answer did Novosiltsev get? None. The English have not
understood and cannot understand the self-abnegation of
our Emperor who wants nothing for himself, but only War and Peace
7 of 2882
desires the good of mankind. And what have they
promised? Nothing! And what little they have promised
they will not perform! Prussia has always declared that
Buonaparte is invincible, and that all Europe is powerless
before him.... And I don’t believe a word that Hardenburg
says, or Haugwitz either. This famous Prussian neutrality
is just a trap. I have faith only in God and the lofty destiny
of our adored monarch. He will save Europe!’
She suddenly paused, smiling at her own impetuosity.
‘I think,’ said the prince with a smile, ‘that if you had
been sent instead of our dear Wintzingerode you would
have captured the King of Prussia’s consent by assault.
You are so eloquent. Will you give me a cup of tea?’
‘In a moment. A propos,’ she added, becoming calm
again, ‘I am expecting two very interesting men tonight,
le Vicomte de Mortemart, who is connected with the
Montmorencys through the Rohans, one of the best
French families. He is one of the genuine emigres, the
good ones. And also the Abbe Morio. Do you know that
profound thinker? He has been received by the Emperor.
Had you heard?’
‘I shall be delighted to meet them,’ said the prince.
‘But tell me,’ he added with studied carelessness as if it
had only just occurred to him, though the question he was War and Peace
8 of 2882
about to ask was the chief motive of his visit, ‘is it true
that the Dowager Empress wants Baron Funke to be
appointed first secretary at Vienna? The baron by all
accounts is a poor creature.’
Prince Vasili wished to obtain this post for his son, but
others were trying through the Dowager Empress Marya
Fedorovna to secure it for the baron.
Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to indicate that
neither she nor anyone else had a right to criticize what
the Empress desired or was pleased with.
‘Baron Funke has been recommended to the Dowager
Empress by her sister,’ was all she said, in a dry and
mournful tone.
As she named the Empress, Anna Pavlovna’s face
suddenly assumed an expression of profound and sincere
devotion and respect mingled with sadness, and this
occurred every time she mentioned her illustrious
patroness. She added that Her Majesty had deigned to
show Baron Funke beaucoup d’estime, and again her face
clouded over with sadness.
The prince was silent and looked indifferent. But, with
the womanly and courtierlike quickness and tact habitual
to her, Anna Pavlovna wished both to rebuke him (for
daring to speak he had done of a man recommended to the War and Peace
9 of 2882
Empress) and at the same time to console him, so she
said:
‘Now about your family. Do you know that since your
daughter came out everyone has been enraptured by her?
They say she is amazingly beautiful.’
The prince bowed to signify his respect and gratitude.
‘I often think,’ she continued after a short pause,
drawing nearer to the prince and smiling amiably at him
as if to show that political and social topics were ended
and the time had come for intimate conversation- ‘I often
think how unfairly sometimes the joys of life are
distributed. Why has fate given you two such splendid
children? I don’t speak of Anatole, your youngest. I don’t
like him,’ she added in a tone admitting of no rejoinder
and raising her eyebrows. ‘Two such charming children.
And really you appreciate them less than anyone, and so
you don’t deserve to have them.’
And she smiled her ecstatic smile.
‘I can’t help it,’ said the prince. ‘Lavater would have
said I lack the bump of paternity.’
‘Don’t joke; I mean to have a serious talk with you. Do
you know I am dissatisfied with your younger son?
Between ourselves’ (and her face assumed its melancholy War and Peace
10 of 2882
expression), ‘he was mentioned at Her Majesty’s and you
were pitied...’
The prince answered nothing, but she looked at him
significantly, awaiting a reply. He frowned.
‘What would you have me do?’ he said at last. ‘You
know I did all a father could for their education, and they
have both turned out fools. Hippolyte is at least a quiet
fool, but Anatole is an active one. That is the only
difference between them.’ He said this smiling in a way
more natural and animated than usual, so that the wrinkles
round his mouth very clearly revealed something
unexpectedly coarse and unpleasant.
‘And why are children born to such men as you? If you
were not a father there would be nothing I could reproach
you with,’ said Anna Pavlovna, looking up pensively.
‘I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess
that my children are the bane of my life. It is the cross I
have to bear. That is how I explain it to myself. It can’t be
helped!’
He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel
fate by a gesture. Anna Pavlovna meditated.
‘Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal
son Anatole?’ she asked. ‘They say old maids have a
mania for matchmaking, and though I don’t feel that War and Peace
11 of 2882
weakness in myself as yet,I know a little person who is
very unhappy with her father. She is a relation of yours,
Princess Mary Bolkonskaya.’
Prince Vasili did not reply, though, with the quickness
of memory and perception befitting a man of the world,
he indicated by a movement of the head that he was
considering this information.
‘Do you know,’ he said at last, evidently unable to
check the sad current of his thoughts, ‘that Anatole is
costing me forty thousand rubles a year? And,’ he went
on after a pause, ‘what will it be in five years, if he goes
on like this?’ Presently he added: ‘That’s what we fathers
have to put up with.... Is this princess of yours rich?’
‘Her father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the
country. He is the well-known Prince Bolkonski who had
to retire from the army under the late Emperor, and was
nicknamed ‘the King of Prussia.’ He is very clever but
eccentric, and a bore. The poor girl is very unhappy. She
has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise
Meinen lately. He is an aide-de-camp of Kutuzov’s and
will be here tonight.’
‘Listen, dear Annette,’ said the prince, suddenly taking
Anna Pavlovna’s hand and for some reason drawing it
downwards. ‘Arrange that affair for me and I shall always War and Peace
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be your most devoted slave- slafe wigh an f, as a village
elder of mine writes in his reports. She is rich and of good
family and that’s all I want.’
And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to
him, he raised the maid of honor’s hand to his lips, kissed
it, and swung it to and fro as he lay back in his armchair,
looking in another direction.
‘Attendez,’ said Anna Pavlovna, reflecting, ‘I’ll speak
to Lise, young Bolkonski’s wife, this very evening, and
perhaps the thing can be arranged. It shall be on your
family’s behalf that I’ll start my apprenticeship as old
maid.’ War and Peace
13 of 2882
Chapter II
Anna Pavlovna’s drawing room was gradually filling.
The highest Petersburg society was assembled there:
people differing widely in age and character but alike in
the social circle to which they belonged. Prince Vasili’s
daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her father to
the ambassador’s entertainment; she wore a ball dress and
her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess
Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de
Petersbourg,* was also there. She had been married
during the previous winter, and being pregnant did not go
to any large gatherings, but only to small receptions.
Prince Vasili’s son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart,
whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others
had also come.
*The most fascinating woman in Petersburg.
To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, ‘You have
not yet seen my aunt,’ or ‘You do not know my aunt?’
and very gravely conducted him or her to a little old lady,
wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who had come
sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began
to arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to War and Peace
14 of 2882
her aunt, Anna Pavlovna mentioned each one’s name and
then left them.
Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this
old aunt whom not one of them knew, not one of them
wanted to know, and not one of them cared about; Anna
Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful and
solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to
each of them in the same words, about their health and her
own, and the health of Her Majesty, ‘who, thank God,
was better today.’ And each visitor, though politeness
prevented his showing impatience, left the old woman
with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious
duty and did not return to her the whole evening.
The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some
work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little
upper lip, on which a delicate dark down was just
perceptible, was too short for her teeth, but it lifted all the
more sweetly, and was especially charming when she
occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is
always the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her
defect- the shortness of her upper lip and her half-open
mouth- seemed to be her own special and peculiar form of
beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of this pretty
young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life War and Peace
15 of 2882
and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men
and dull dispirited young ones who looked at her, after
being in her company and talking to her a little while, felt
as if they too were becoming, like her, full of life and
health. All who talked to her, and at each word saw her
bright smile and the constant gleam of her white teeth,
thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that
day.
The little princess went round the table with quick,
short, swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily
spreading out her dress sat down on a sofa near the silver
samovar, as if all she was doing was a pleasure to herself
and to all around her. ‘I have brought my work,’ said she
in French, displaying her bag and addressing all present.
‘Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked
trick on me,’ she added, turning to her hostess. ‘You
wrote that it was to be quite a small reception, and just see
how badly I am dressed.’ And she spread out her arms to
show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, dainty gray dress,
girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast.
‘Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier
than anyone else,’ replied Anna Pavlovna.
‘You know,’ said the princess in the same tone of
voice and still in French, turning to a general, ‘my War and Peace
16 of 2882
husband is deserting me? He is going to get himself
killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?’ she added,
addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an
answer she turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful
Helene.
‘What a delightful woman this little princess is!’ said
Prince Vasili to Anna Pavlovna.
One of the next arrivals was a stout, heavily built
young man with close-cropped hair, spectacles, the lightcolored
breeches fashionable at that time, a very high
ruffle, and a brown dress coat. This stout young man was
an illegitimate son of Count Bezukhov, a well-known
grandee of Catherine’s time who now lay dying in
Moscow. The young man had not yet entered either the
military or civil service, as he had only just returned from
abroad where he had been educated, and this was his first
appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with
the nod she accorded to the lowest hierarchy in her
drawing room. But in spite of this ,l;l,.,‘If you have nothing better to do, Count [or Prince],
and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor
invalid is not too terrible, I shall be very charmed to see
you tonight between 7 and 10- Annette Scherer.’
‘Heavens! what a virulent attack!’ replied the prince,
not in the least disconcerted by this reception. He had just
entered, wearing an embroidered court uniform, knee
breeches, and shoes, and had stars on his breast and a
serene expression on his flat face. He spoke in that refined
French in which our grandfathers not only spoke but
thought, and with the gentle, patronizing intonation
natural to a man of importance who had grown old in
society and at court. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed
her hand, presenting to her his bald, scented, and shining
head, and complacently seated himself on the sofa.
‘First of all, dear friend, tell me how you are. Set your
friend’s mind at rest,’ said he without altering his tone,
beneath the politeness and affected sympathy of which
indifference and even irony could be discerned.
‘Can one be well while suffering morally? Can one be
calm in times like these if one has any feeling?’ said Anna
Pavlovna. ‘You are staying the whole evening, I hope?’ War and Peace
5 of 2882
‘And the fete at the English ambassador’s? Today is
Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there,’ said the
prince. ‘My daughter is coming for me to take me there.’
‘I thought today’s fete had been canceled. I confess all
these festivities and fireworks are becoming wearisome.’
‘If they had known that you wished it, the
entertainment would have been put off,’ said the prince,
who, like a wound-up clock, by force of habit said things
he did not even wish to be believed.
‘Don’t tease! Well, and what has been decided about
Novosiltsev’s dispatch? You know everything.’
‘What can one say about it?’ replied the prince in a
cold, listless tone. ‘What has been decided? They have
decided that Buonaparte has burnt his boats, and I believe
that we are ready to burn ours.’
Prince Vasili always spoke languidly, like an actor
repeating a stale part. Anna Pavlovna Scherer on the
contrary, despite her forty years, overflowed with
animation and impulsiveness. To be an enthusiast had
become her social vocation and, sometimes even when
she did not feel like it, she became enthusiastic in order
not to disappoint the expectations of those who knew her.
The subdued smile which, though it did not suit her faded
features, always played round her lips expressed, as in a War and Peace
6 of 2882
spoiled child, a continual consciousness of her charming
defect, which she neither wished, nor could, nor
considered it necessary, to correct.
In the midst of a conversation on political matters
Anna Pavlovna burst out:
‘Oh, don’t speak to me of Austria. Perhaps I don’t
understand things, but Austria never has wished, and does
not wish, for war. She is betraying us! Russia alone must
save Europe. Our gracious sovereign recognizes his high
vocation and will be true to it. That is the one thing I have
faith in! Our good and wonderful sovereign has to
perform the noblest role on earth, and he is so virtuous
and noble that God will not forsake him. He will fulfill his
vocation and crush the hydra of revolution, which has
become more terrible than ever in the person of this
murderer and villain! We alone must avenge the blood of
the just one.... Whom, I ask you, can we rely on?...
England with her commercial spirit will not and cannot
understand the Emperor Alexander’s loftiness of soul. She
has refused to evacuate Malta. She wanted to find, and
still seeks, some secret motive in our actions. What
answer did Novosiltsev get? None. The English have not
understood and cannot understand the self-abnegation of
our Emperor who wants nothing for himself, but only War and Peace
7 of 2882
desires the good of mankind. And what have they
promised? Nothing! And what little they have promised
they will not perform! Prussia has always declared that
Buonaparte is invincible, and that all Europe is powerless
before him.... And I don’t believe a word that Hardenburg
says, or Haugwitz either. This famous Prussian neutrality
is just a trap. I have faith only in God and the lofty destiny
of our adored monarch. He will save Europe!’
She suddenly paused, smiling at her own impetuosity.
‘I think,’ said the prince with a smile, ‘that if you had
been sent instead of our dear Wintzingerode you would
have captured the King of Prussia’s consent by assault.
You are so eloquent. Will you give me a cup of tea?’
‘In a moment. A propos,’ she added, becoming calm
again, ‘I am expecting two very interesting men tonight,
le Vicomte de Mortemart, who is connected with the
Montmorencys through the Rohans, one of the best
French families. He is one of the genuine emigres, the
good ones. And also the Abbe Morio. Do you know that
profound thinker? He has been received by the Emperor.
Had you heard?’
‘I shall be delighted to meet them,’ said the prince.
‘But tell me,’ he added with studied carelessness as if it
had only just occurred to him, though the question he was War and Peace
8 of 2882
about to ask was the chief motive of his visit, ‘is it true
that the Dowager Empress wants Baron Funke to be
appointed first secretary at Vienna? The baron by all
accounts is a poor creature.’
Prince Vasili wished to obtain this post for his son, but
others were trying through the Dowager Empress Marya
Fedorovna to secure it for the baron.
Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to indicate that
neither she nor anyone else had a right to criticize what
the Empress desired or was pleased with.
‘Baron Funke has been recommended to the Dowager
Empress by her sister,’ was all she said, in a dry and
mournful tone.
As she named the Empress, Anna Pavlovna’s face
suddenly assumed an expression of profound and sincere
devotion and respect mingled with sadness, and this
occurred every time she mentioned her illustrious
patroness. She added that Her Majesty had deigned to
show Baron Funke beaucoup d’estime, and again her face
clouded over with sadness.
The prince was silent and looked indifferent. But, with
the womanly and courtierlike quickness and tact habitual
to her, Anna Pavlovna wished both to rebuke him (for
daring to speak he had done of a man recommended to the War and Peace
9 of 2882
Empress) and at the same time to console him, so she
said:
‘Now about your family. Do you know that since your
daughter came out everyone has been enraptured by her?
They say she is amazingly beautiful.’
The prince bowed to signify his respect and gratitude.
‘I often think,’ she continued after a short pause,
drawing nearer to the prince and smiling amiably at him
as if to show that political and social topics were ended
and the time had come for intimate conversation- ‘I often
think how unfairly sometimes the joys of life are
distributed. Why has fate given you two such splendid
children? I don’t speak of Anatole, your youngest. I don’t
like him,’ she added in a tone admitting of no rejoinder
and raising her eyebrows. ‘Two such charming children.
And really you appreciate them less than anyone, and so
you don’t deserve to have them.’
And she smiled her ecstatic smile.
‘I can’t help it,’ said the prince. ‘Lavater would have
said I lack the bump of paternity.’
‘Don’t joke; I mean to have a serious talk with you. Do
you know I am dissatisfied with your younger son?
Between ourselves’ (and her face assumed its melancholy War and Peace
10 of 2882
expression), ‘he was mentioned at Her Majesty’s and you
were pitied...’
The prince answered nothing, but she looked at him
significantly, awaiting a reply. He frowned.
‘What would you have me do?’ he said at last. ‘You
know I did all a father could for their education, and they
have both turned out fools. Hippolyte is at least a quiet
fool, but Anatole is an active one. That is the only
difference between them.’ He said this smiling in a way
more natural and animated than usual, so that the wrinkles
round his mouth very clearly revealed something
unexpectedly coarse and unpleasant.
‘And why are children born to such men as you? If you
were not a father there would be nothing I could reproach
you with,’ said Anna Pavlovna, looking up pensively.
‘I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess
that my children are the bane of my life. It is the cross I
have to bear. That is how I explain it to myself. It can’t be
helped!’
He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel
fate by a gesture. Anna Pavlovna meditated.
‘Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal
son Anatole?’ she asked. ‘They say old maids have a
mania for matchmaking, and though I don’t feel that War and Peace
11 of 2882
weakness in myself as yet,I know a little person who is
very unhappy with her father. She is a relation of yours,
Princess Mary Bolkonskaya.’
Prince Vasili did not reply, though, with the quickness
of memory and perception befitting a man of the world,
he indicated by a movement of the head that he was
considering this information.
‘Do you know,’ he said at last, evidently unable to
check the sad current of his thoughts, ‘that Anatole is
costing me forty thousand rubles a year? And,’ he went
on after a pause, ‘what will it be in five years, if he goes
on like this?’ Presently he added: ‘That’s what we fathers
have to put up with.... Is this princess of yours rich?’
‘Her father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the
country. He is the well-known Prince Bolkonski who had
to retire from the army under the late Emperor, and was
nicknamed ‘the King of Prussia.’ He is very clever but
eccentric, and a bore. The poor girl is very unhappy. She
has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise
Meinen lately. He is an aide-de-camp of Kutuzov’s and
will be here tonight.’
‘Listen, dear Annette,’ said the prince, suddenly taking
Anna Pavlovna’s hand and for some reason drawing it
downwards. ‘Arrange that affair for me and I shall always War and Peace
12 of 2882
be your most devoted slave- slafe wigh an f, as a village
elder of mine writes in his reports. She is rich and of good
family and that’s all I want.’
And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to
him, he raised the maid of honor’s hand to his lips, kissed
it, and swung it to and fro as he lay back in his armchair,
looking in another direction.
‘Attendez,’ said Anna Pavlovna, reflecting, ‘I’ll speak
to Lise, young Bolkonski’s wife, this very evening, and
perhaps the thing can be arranged. It shall be on your
family’s behalf that I’ll start my apprenticeship as old
maid.’ War and Peace
13 of 2882
Chapter II
Anna Pavlovna’s drawing room was gradually filling.
The highest Petersburg society was assembled there:
people differing widely in age and character but alike in
the social circle to which they belonged. Prince Vasili’s
daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her father to
the ambassador’s entertainment; she wore a ball dress and
her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess
Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de
Petersbourg,* was also there. She had been married
during the previous winter, and being pregnant did not go
to any large gatherings, but only to small receptions.
Prince Vasili’s son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart,
whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others
had also come.
*The most fascinating woman in Petersburg.
To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, ‘You have
not yet seen my aunt,’ or ‘You do not know my aunt?’
and very gravely conducted him or her to a little old lady,
wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who had come
sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began
to arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to War and Peace
14 of 2882
her aunt, Anna Pavlovna mentioned each one’s name and
then left them.
Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this
old aunt whom not one of them knew, not one of them
wanted to know, and not one of them cared about; Anna
Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful and
solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to
each of them in the same words, about their health and her
own, and the health of Her Majesty, ‘who, thank God,
was better today.’ And each visitor, though politeness
prevented his showing impatience, left the old woman
with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious
duty and did not return to her the whole evening.
The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some
work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little
upper lip, on which a delicate dark down was just
perceptible, was too short for her teeth, but it lifted all the
more sweetly, and was especially charming when she
occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is
always the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her
defect- the shortness of her upper lip and her half-open
mouth- seemed to be her own special and peculiar form of
beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of this pretty
young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life War and Peace
15 of 2882
and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men
and dull dispirited young ones who looked at her, after
being in her company and talking to her a little while, felt
as if they too were becoming, like her, full of life and
health. All who talked to her, and at each word saw her
bright smile and the constant gleam of her white teeth,
thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that
day.
The little princess went round the table with quick,
short, swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily
spreading out her dress sat down on a sofa near the silver
samovar, as if all she was doing was a pleasure to herself
and to all around her. ‘I have brought my work,’ said she
in French, displaying her bag and addressing all present.
‘Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked
trick on me,’ she added, turning to her hostess. ‘You
wrote that it was to be quite a small reception, and just see
how badly I am dressed.’ And she spread out her arms to
show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, dainty gray dress,
girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast.
‘Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier
than anyone else,’ replied Anna Pavlovna.
‘You know,’ said the princess in the same tone of
voice and still in French, turning to a general, ‘my War and Peace
16 of 2882
husband is deserting me? He is going to get himself
killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?’ she added,
addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an
answer she turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful
Helene.
‘What a delightful woman this little princess is!’ said
Prince Vasili to Anna Pavlovna.
One of the next arrivals was a stout, heavily built
young man with close-cropped hair, spectacles, the lightcolored
breeches fashionable at that time, a very high
ruffle, and a brown dress coat. This stout young man was
an illegitimate son of Count Bezukhov, a well-known
grandee of Catherine’s time who now lay dying in
Moscow. The young man had not yet entered either the
military or civil service, as he had only just returned from
abroad where he had been educated, and this was his first
appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with
the nod she accorded to the lowest hierarchy in her
drawing room. But in spite of this lowest-grade greeting,
a look of anxiety and fear, as at the sight of something too
large and unsuited to the place, came over her face when
she saw Pierre enter. Though he was certainly rather
bigger than the other men in the room, her anxiety could
only have reference to the clever though shy, but War and Peace
17 of 2882
observant and natural, expression which distinguished
him from everyone else in that drawing room.
‘It is very good of you, Monsieur Pierre, to come and
visit a poor invalid,’ said Anna Pavlovna, exchanging an
alarmed glance with her aunt as she conducted him to her.
Pierre murmured something unintelligible, and
continued to look round as if in search of something. On
his way to the aunt he bowed to the little princess with a
pleased smile, as to an intimate acquaintance.
Anna Pavlovna’s alarm was justified, for Pierre turned
away from the aunt without waiting to hear her speech
about Her Majesty’s health. Anna Pavlovna in dismay
detained him with the words: ‘Do you know the Abbe
Morio? He is a most interesting man.’
‘Yes, I have heard of his scheme for perpetual peace,
and it is very interesting but hardly feasible.’
‘You think so?’ rejoined Anna Pavlovna in order to say
something and get away to attend to her duties as hostess.
But Pierre now committed a reverse act of impoliteness.
First he had left a lady before she had finished speaking to
him, and now he continued to speak to another who
wished to get away. With his head bent, and his big feet
spread apart, he began explaining his reasons for thinking
the abbe’s plan chimerical. War and Peace
18 of 2882
‘We will talk of it later,’ said Anna Pavlovna with a
smile.
And having got rid of this young man who did not
know how to behave, she resumed her duties as hostess
and continued to listen and watch, ready to help at any
point where the conversation might happen to flag. As the
foreman of a spinning mill, when he has set the hands to
work, goes round and notices here a spindle that has
stopped or there one that creaks or makes more noise than
it should, and hastens to check the machine or set it in
proper motion, so Anna Pavlovna moved about her
drawing room, approaching now a silent, now a too-noisy
group, and by a word or slight rearrangement kept the
conversational machine in steady, proper, and regular
motion. But amid these cares her anxiety about Pierre was
evident. She kept an anxious watch on him when he
approached the group round Mortemart to listen to what
was being said there, and again when he passed to another
group whose center was the abbe.
Pierre had been educated abroad, and this reception at
Anna Pavlovna’s was the first he had attended in Russia.
He knew that all the intellectual lights of Petersburg were
gathered there and, like a child in a toyshop, did not know
which way to look, afraid of missing any clever War and Peace
19 of 2882
conversation that was to be heard. Seeing the selfconfident
and refined expression on the faces of those
present he was always expecting to hear something very
profound. At last he came up to Morio. Here the
conversation seemed interesting and he stood waiting for
an opportunity to express his own views, as young people
are fond of doing. War and Peace
20 of 2882
Chapter III
Anna Pavlovna’s reception was in full swing. The
spindles hummed steadily and ceaselessly on all sides.
With the exception of the aunt, beside whom sat only one
elderly lady, who with her thin careworn face was rather
out of place in this brilliant society, the whole company
had settled into three groups. One, chiefly masculine, had
formed round the abbe. Another, of young people, was
grouped round the beautiful Princess Helene, Prince
Vasili’s daughter, and the little Princess Bolkonskaya,
very pretty and rosy, though rather too plump for her age.
The third group was gathered round Mortemart and Anna
Pavlovna.
The vicomte was a nice-looking young man with soft
features and polished manners, who evidently considered
himself a celebrity but out of politeness modestly placed
himself at the disposal of the circle in which he found
himself. Anna Pavlovna was obviously serving him up as
a treat to her guests. As a clever maitre d’hotel serves up
as a specially choice delicacy a piece of meat that no one
who had seen it in the kitchen would have cared to eat, so
Anna Pavlovna served up to her guests, first the vicomte War and Peace
21 of 2882
and then the abbe, as peculiarly choice morsels. The
group about Mortemart immediately began discussing the
murder of the Duc d’Enghien. The vicomte said that the
Duc d’Enghien had perished by his own magnanimity,
and that there were particular reasons for Buonaparte’s
hatred of him.
‘Ah, yes! Do tell us all about it, Vicomte,’ said Anna
Pavlovna, with a pleasant feeling that there was
something a la Louis XV in the sound of that sentence:
‘Contez nous cela, Vicomte.’
The vicomte bowed and smiled courteously in token of
his willingness to comply. Anna Pavlovna arranged a
group round him, inviting everyone to listen to his tale.
‘The vicomte knew the duc personally,’ whispered
Anna Pavlovna to of the guests. ‘The vicomte is a
wonderful raconteur,’ said she to another. ‘How evidently
he belongs to the best society,’ said she to a third; and the
vicomte was served up to the company in the choicest and
most advantageous style, like a well-garnished joint of
roast beef on a hot dish.
The vicomte wished to begin his story and gave a
subtle smile. War and Peace
22 of 2882
‘Come over here, Helene, dear,’ said Anna Pavlovna to
the beautiful young princess who was sitting some way
off, the center of another group.
The princess smiled. She rose with the same
unchanging smile with which she had first entered the
room- the smile of a perfectly beautiful woman. With a
slight rustle of her white dress trimmed with moss and
ivy, with a gleam of white shoulders, glossy hair, and
sparkling diamonds, she passed between the men who
made way for her, not looking at any of them but smiling
on all, as if graciously allowing each the privilege of
admiring her beautiful figure and shapely shoulders, back,
and bosom- which in the fashion of those days were very
much exposed- and she seemed to bring the glamour of a
ballroom with her as she moved toward Anna Pavlovna.
Helene was so lovely that not only did she not show any
trace of coquetry, but on the contrary she even appeared
shy of her unquestionable and all too victorious beauty.
She seemed to wish, but to be unable, to diminish its
effect.
‘How lovely!’ said everyone who saw her; and the
vicomte lifted his shoulders and dropped his eyes as if
startled by something extraordinary when she took her War and Peace
23 of 2882
seat opposite and beamed upon him also with her
unchanging smile.
‘Madame, I doubt my ability before such an audience,’
said he, smilingly inclining his head.
The princess rested her bare round arm on a little table
and considered a reply unnecessary. She smilingly waited.
All the time the story was being told she sat upright,
glancing now at her beautiful round arm, altered in shape
by its pressure on the table, now at her still more beautiful
bosom, on which she readjusted a diamond necklace.
From time to time she smoothed the folds of her dress,
and whenever the story produced an effect she glanced at
Anna Pavlovna, at once adopted just the expression she
saw on the maid of honor’s face, and again relapsed into
her radiant smile.
The little princess had also left the tea table and
followed Helene.
‘Wait a moment, I’ll get my work.... Now then, what
are you thinking of?’ she went on, turning to Prince
Hippolyte. ‘Fetch me my workbag.’
There was a general movement as the princess, smiling
and talking merrily to everyone at once, sat down and
gaily arranged herself in her seat. War and Peace
24 of 2882
‘Now I am all right,’ she said, and asking the vicomte
to begin, she took up her work.
Prince Hippolyte, having brought the workbag, joined
the circle and moving a chair close to hers seated himself
beside her.
Le charmant Hippolyte was surprising by his
extraordinary resemblance to his beautiful sister, but yet
more by the fact that in spite of this resemblance he was
exceedingly ugly. His features were like his sister’s, but
while in her case everything was lit up by a joyous, selfsatisfied,
youthful, and constant smile of animation, and
by the wonderful classic beauty of her figure, his face on
the contrary was dulled by imbecility and a constant
expression of sullen self-confidence, while his body was
thin and weak. His eyes, nose, and mouth all seemed
puckered into a vacant, wearied grimace, and his arms
and legs always fell into unnatural positions.
‘It’s not going to be a ghost story?’ said he, sitting
down beside the princess and hastily adjusting his
lorgnette, as if without this instrument he could not begin
to speak.
‘Why no, my dear fellow,’ said the astonished narrator,
shrugging his shoulders. War and Peace
25 of 2882
‘Because I hate ghost stories,’ said Prince Hippolyte in
a tone which showed that he only understood the meaning
of his words after he had uttered them.
He spoke with such self-confidence that his hearers
could not be sure whether what he said was very witty or
very stupid. He was dressed in a dark-green dress coat,
knee breeches of the color of cuisse de nymphe effrayee,
as he called it, shoes, and silk stockings.
The vicomte told his tale very neatly. It was an
anecdote, then current, to the effect that the Duc
d’Enghien had gone secretly to Paris to visit
Mademoiselle George; that at her house he came upon
Bonaparte, who also enjoyed the famous actress’ favors,
and that in his presence Napoleon happened to fall into
one of the fainting fits to which he was subject, and was
thus at the duc’s mercy. The latter spared him, and this
magnanimity Bonaparte subsequently repaid by death.
The story was very pretty and interesting, especially at
the point where the rivals suddenly recognized one
another; and the ladies looked agitated.
‘Charming!’ said Anna Pavlovna with an inquiring
glance at the little princess.
‘Charming!’ whispered the little princess, sticking the
needle into her work as if to testify that the interest and War and Peace
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fascination of the story prevented her from going on with
it.
The vicomte appreciated this silent praise and smiling
gratefully prepared to continue, but just then Anna
Pavlovna, who had kept a watchful eye on the young man
who so alarmed her, noticed that he was talking too
loudly and vehemently with the abbe, so she hurried to
the rescue. Pierre had managed to start a conversation
with the abbe about the balance of power, and the latter,
evidently interested by the young man’s simple-minded
eagerness, was explaining his pet theory. Both were
talking and listening too eagerly and too naturally, which
was why Anna Pavlovna disapproved.
‘The means are... the balance of power in Europe and
the rights of the people,’ the abbe was saying. ‘It is only
necessary for one powerful nation like Russia- barbaric as
she is said to be- to place herself disinterestedly at the
head of an alliance having for its object the maintenance
of the balance of power of Europe, and it would save the
world!’
‘But how are you to get that balance?’ Pierre was
beginning.
At that moment Anna Pavlovna came up and, looking
severely at Pierre, asked the Italian how he stood Russian War and Peace
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climate. The Italian’s face instantly changed and assumed
an offensively affected, sugary expression, evidently
habitual to him when conversing with women.
‘I am so enchanted by the brilliancy of the wit and
culture of the society, more especially of the feminine
society, in which I have had the honor of being received,
that I have not yet had time to think of the climate,’ said
he.
Not letting the abbe and Pierre escape, Anna Pavlovna,
the more conveniently to keep them under observation,
brought them into the larger circle. War and Peace
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Chapter IV
Just them another visitor entered the drawing room:
Prince Andrew Bolkonski, the little princess’ husband. He
was a very handsome young man, of medium height, with
firm, clearcut features. Everything about him, from his
weary, bored expression to his quiet, measured step,
offered a most striking contrast to his quiet, little wife. It
was evident that he not only knew everyone in the
drawing room, but had found them to be so tiresome that
it wearied him to look at or listen to them. And among all
these faces that he found so tedious, none seemed to bore
him so much as that of his pretty wife. He turned away
from her with a grimace that distorted his handsome face,
kissed Anna Pavlovna’s hand, and screwing up his eyes
scanned the whole company.
‘You are off to the war, Prince?’ said Anna Pavlovna.
‘General Kutuzov,’ said Bolkonski, speaking French
and stressing the last syllable of the general’s name like a
Frenchman, ‘has been pleased to take me as an aide-decamp...’
‘And Lise, your wife?’
‘She will go to the country.’ War and Peace
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‘Are you not ashamed to deprive us of your charming
wife?’
‘Andre,’ said his wife, addressing her husband in the
same coquettish manner in which she spoke to other men,
‘the vicomte has been telling us such a tale about
Mademoiselle George and Buonaparte!’
Prince Andrew screwed up his eyes and turned away.
Pierre, who from the moment Prince Andrew entered the
room had watched him with glad, affectionate eyes, now
came up and took his arm. Before he looked round Prince
Andrew frowned again, expressing his annoyance with
whoever was touching his arm, but when he saw Pierre’s
beaming face he gave him an unexpectedly kind and
pleasant smile.
‘There now!... So you, too, are in the great world?’
said he to Pierre.
‘I knew you would be here,’ replied Pierre. ‘I will
come to supper with you. May I?’ he added in a low voice
so as not to disturb the vicomte who was continuing his
story.
‘No, impossible!’ said Prince Andrew, laughing and
pressing Pierre’s hand to show that there was no need to
ask the question. He wished to say something more, but at War and Peace
30 of 2882
that moment Prince Vasili and his daughter got up to go
and the two young men rose to let them pass.
‘You must excuse me, dear Vicomte,’ said Prince
Vasili to the Frenchman, holding him down by the sleeve
in a friendly way to prevent his rising. ‘This unfortunate
fete at the ambassador’s deprives me of a pleasure, and
obliges me to interrupt you. I am very sorry to leave your
enchanting party,’ said he, turning to Anna Pavlovna.
His daughter, Princess Helene, passed between the
chairs, lightly holding up the folds of her dress, and the
smile shone still more radiantly on her beautiful face.
Pierre gazed at her with rapturous, almost frightened, eyes
as she passed him.
‘Very lovely,’ said Prince Andrew.
‘Very,’ said Pierre.
In passing Prince Vasili seized Pierre’s hand and said
to Anna Pavlovna: ‘Educate this bear for me! He has been
staying with me a whole month and this is the first time I
have seen him in society. Nothing is so necessary for a
young man as the society of clever women.’
Anna Pavlovna smiled and promised to take Pierre in
hand. She knew his father to be a connection of Prince
Vasili’s. The elderly lady who had been sitting with the
old aunt rose hurriedly and overtook Prince Vasili in the War and Peace
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anteroom. All the affectation of interest she had assumed
had left her kindly and tearworn face and it now
expressed only anxiety and fear.
‘How about my son Boris, Prince?’ said she, hurrying
after him into the anteroom. ‘I can’t remain any longer in
Petersburg. Tell me what news I may take back to my
poor boy.’
Although Prince Vasili listened reluctantly and not
very politely to the elderly lady, even betraying some
impatience, she gave him an ingratiating and appealing
smile, and took his hand that he might not go away.
‘What would it cost you to say a word to the Emperor,
and then he would be transferred to the Guards at once?’
said she.
‘Believe me, Princess, I am ready to do all I can,’
answered Prince Vasili, ‘but it is difficult for me to ask
the Emperor. I should advise you to appeal to
Rumyantsev through Prince Golitsyn. That would be the
best way.’
The elderly lady was a Princess Drubetskaya,
belonging to one of the best families in Russia, but she
was poor, and having long been out of society had lost her
former influential connections. She had now come to
Petersburg to procure an appointment in the Guards for War and Peace
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her only son. It was, in fact, solely to meet Prince Vasili
that she had obtained an invitation to Anna Pavlovna’s
reception and had sat listening to the vicomte’s story.
Prince Vasili’s words frightened her, an embittered look
clouded her once handsome face, but only for a moment;
then she smiled again and dutched Prince Vasili’s arm
more tightly.
‘Listen to me, Prince,’ said she. ‘I have never yet asked
you for anything and I never will again, nor have I ever
reminded you of my father’s friendship for you; but now I
entreat you for God’s sake to do this for my son- and I
shall always regard you as a benefactor,’ she added
hurriedly. ‘No, don’t be angry, but promise! I have asked
Golitsyn and he has refused. Be the kindhearted man you
always were,’ she said, trying to smile though tears were
in her eyes.
‘Papa, we shall be late,’ said Princess Helene, turning
her beautiful head and looking over her classically
molded shoulder as she stood waiting by the door.
Influence in society, however, is a capital which has to
be economized if it is to last. Prince Vasili knew this, and
having once realized that if he asked on behalf of all who
begged of him, he would soon be unable to ask for
himself, he became chary of using his influence. But in War and Peace
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Princess Drubetskaya’s case he felt, after her second
appeal, something like qualms of conscience. She had
reminded him of what was quite true; he had been
indebted to her father for the first steps in his career.
Moreover, he could see by her manners that she was one
of those women- mostly mothers- who, having once made
up their minds, will not rest until they have gained their
end, and are prepared if necessary to go on insisting day
after day and hour after hour, and even to make scenes.
This last consideration moved him.
‘My dear Anna Mikhaylovna,’ said he with his usual
familiarity and weariness of tone, ‘it is almost impossible
for me to do what you ask; but to prove my devotion to
you and how I respect your father’s memory, I will do the
impossible- your son shall be transferred to the Guards.
Here is my hand on it. Are you satisfied?’
‘My dear benefactor! This is what I expected from
you- I knew your kindness!’ He turned to go.
‘Wait- just a word! When he has been transferred to
the Guards...’ she faltered. ‘You are on good terms with
Michael Ilarionovich Kutuzov... recommend Boris to him
as adjutant! Then I shall be at rest, and then..’
Prince Vasili smiled. War and Peace
34 of 2882
‘No, I won’t promise that. You don’t know how
Kutuzov is pestered since his appointment as Commander
in Chief. He told me himself that all the Moscow ladies
have conspired to give him all their sons as adjutants.’
‘No, but do promise! I won’t let you go! My dear
benefactor..’
‘Papa,’ said his beautiful daughter in the same tone as
before, ‘we shall be late.’
‘Well, au revoir! Good-by! You hear her?’
‘Then tomorrow you will speak to the Emperor?’
‘Certainly; but about Kutuzov, I don’t promise.’
‘Do promise, do promise, Vasili!’ cried Anna
Mikhaylovna as he went, with the smile of a coquettish
girl, which at one time probably came naturally to her, but
was now very ill-suited to her careworn face.
Apparently she had forgotten her age and by force of
habit employed all the old feminine arts. But as soon as
the prince had gone her face resumed its former cold,
artificial expression. She returned to the group where the
vicomte was still talking, and again pretended to listen,
while waiting till it would be time to leave. Her task was
accomplished. War and Peace
35 of 2882
Chapter V
‘And what do you think of this latest comedy, the
coronation at Milan?’ asked Anna Pavlovna, ‘and of the
comedy of the people of Genoa and Lucca laying their
petitions before Monsieur Buonaparte, and Monsieur
Buonaparte sitting on a throne and granting the petitions
of the nations? Adorable! It is enough to make one’s head
whirl! It is as if the whole world had gone crazy.’
Prince Andrew looked Anna Pavlovna straight in the
face with a sarcastic smile.
‘‘Dieu me la donne, gare a qui la touche!’* They say
he was very fine when he said that,’ he remarked,
repeating the words in Italian: ‘‘Dio mi l’ha dato. Guai a
chi la tocchi!’’
*God has given it to me, let him who touches it
beware!
‘I hope this will prove the last drop that will make the
glass run over,’ Anna Pavlovna continued. ‘The
sovereigns will not be able to endure this man who is a
menace to everything.’
‘The sovereigns? I do not speak of Russia,’ said the
vicomte, polite but hopeless: ‘The sovereigns, madame... War and Peace
36 of 2882
What have they done for Louis XVII, for the Queen, or
for Madame Elizabeth? Nothing!’ and he became more
animated. ‘And believe me, they are reaping the reward of
their betrayal of the Bourbon cause. The sovereigns!
Why, they are sending ambassadors to compliment the
usurper.’
And sighing disdainfully, he again changed his
position.
Prince Hippolyte, who had been gazing at the vicomte
for some time through his lorgnette, suddenly turned
completely round toward the little princess, and having
asked for a needle began tracing the Conde coat of arms
on the table. He explained this to her with as much gravity
as if she had asked him to do it.
‘Baton de gueules, engrele de gueules d’ azur- maison
Conde,’ said he.
The princess listened, smiling.
‘If Buonaparte remains on the throne of France a year
longer,’ the vicomte continued, with the air of a man who,
in a matter with which he is better acquainted than anyone
else, does not listen to others but follows the current of his
own thoughts, ‘things will have gone too far. By intrigues,
violence, exile, and executions, French society- I mean War and Peace
37 of 2882
good French society- will have been forever destroyed,
and then..’
He shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands.
Pierre wished to make a remark, for the conversation
interested him, but Anna Pavlovna, who had him under
observation, interrupted:
‘The Emperor Alexander,’ said she, with the
melancholy which always accompanied any reference of
hers to the Imperial family, ‘has declared that he will
leave it to the French people themselves to choose their
own form of government; and I believe that once free
from the usurper, the whole nation will certainly throw
itself into the arms of its rightful king,’ she concluded,
trying to be amiable to the royalist emigrant.
‘That is doubtful,’ said Prince Andrew. ‘Monsieur le
Vicomte quite rightly supposes that matters have already
gone too far. I think it will be difficult to return to the old
regime.’
‘From what I have heard,’ said Pierre, blushing and
breaking into the conversation, ‘almost all the aristocracy
has already gone over to Bonaparte’s side.’
‘It is the Buonapartists who say that,’ replied the
vicomte without looking at Pierre. ‘At the present time it
is difficult to know the real state of French public opinion. War and Peace
38 of 2882
‘Bonaparte has said so,’ remarked Prince Andrew with
a sarcastic smile.
It was evident that he did not like the vicomte and was
aiming his remarks at him, though without looking at him.
‘‘I showed them the path to glory, but they did not
follow it,’’ Prince Andrew continued after a short silence,
again quoting Napoleon’s words. ‘‘I opened my
antechambers and they crowded in.’ I do not know how
far he was justified in saying so.’
‘Not in the least,’ replied the vicomte. ‘After the
murder of the duc even the most partial ceased to regard
him as a hero. If to some people,’ he went on, turning to
Anna Pavlovna, ‘he ever was a hero, after the murder of
the duc there was one martyr more in heaven and one
hero less on earth.’
Before Anna Pavlovna and the others had time to smile
their appreciation of the vicomte’s epigram, Pierre again
broke into the conversation, and though Anna Pavlovna
felt sure he would say something inappropriate, she was
unable to stop him.
‘The execution of the Duc d’Enghien,’ declared
Monsieur Pierre, ‘was a political necessity, and it seems
to me that Napoleon showed greatness of soul by not War and Peace
39 of 2882
fearing to take on himself the whole responsibility of that
deed.’
‘Dieu! Mon Dieu!’ muttered Anna Pavlovna in a
terrified whisper.
‘What, Monsieur Pierre... Do you consider that
assassination shows greatness of soul?’ said the little
princess, smiling and drawing her work nearer to her.
‘Oh! Oh!’ exclaimed several voices.
‘Capital!’ said Prince Hippolyte in English, and began
slapping his knee with the palm of his hand.
The vicomte merely shrugged his shoulders. Pierre
looked solemnly at his audience over his spectacles and
continued.
‘I say so,’ he continued desperately, ‘because the
Bourbons fled from the Revolution leaving the people to
anarchy, and Napoleon alone understood the Revolution
and quelled it, and so for the general good, he could not
stop short for the sake of one man’s life.’
‘Won’t you come over to the other table?’ suggested
Anna Pavlovna.
But Pierre continued his speech without heeding her.
‘No,’ cried he, becoming more and more eager,
‘Napoleon is great because he rose superior to the
Revolution, suppressed its abuses, preserved all that was War and Peace
40 of 2882
good in it- equality of citizenship and freedom of speech
and of the press- and only for that reason did he obtain
power.’
‘Yes, if having obtained power, without availing
himself of it to commit murder he had restored it to the
rightful king, I should have called him a great man,’
remarked the vicomte.
‘He could not do that. The people only gave him power
that he might rid them of the Bourbons and because they
saw that he was a great man. The Revolution was a grand
thing!’ continued Monsieur Pierre, betraying by this
desperate and provocative proposition his extreme youth
and his wish to express all that was in his mind.
‘What? Revolution and regicide a grand thing?... Well,
after that... But won’t you come to this other table?’
repeated Anna Pavlovna.
‘Rousseau’s Contrat social,’ said the vicomte with a
tolerant smile.
‘I am not speaking of regicide, I am speaking about
ideas.’
‘Yes: ideas of robbery, murder, and regicide,’ again
interjected an ironical voice.
‘Those were extremes, no doubt, but they are not what
is most important. What is important are the rights of War and Peace
41 of 2882
man, emancipation from prejudices, and equality of
citizenship, and all these ideas Napoleon has retained in
full force.’
‘Liberty and equality,’ said the vicomte
contemptuously, as if at last deciding seriously to prove to
this youth how foolish his words were, ‘high-sounding
words which have long been discredited. Who does not
love liberty and equality? Even our Saviour preached
liberty and equality. Have people since the Revolution
become happier? On the contrary. We wanted liberty, but
Buonaparte has destroyed it.’
Prince Andrew kept looking with an amused smile
from Pierre to the vicomte and from the vicomte to their
hostess. In the first moment of Pierre’s outburst Anna
Pavlovna, despite her social experience, was horrorstruck.
But when she saw that Pierre’s sacrilegious words
had not exasperated the vicomte, and had convinced
herself that it was impossible to stop him, she rallied her
forces and joined the vicomte in a vigorous attack on the
orator.
‘But, my dear Monsieur Pierre,’ said she, ‘how do you
explain the fact of a great man executing a duc- or even
an ordinary man who- is innocent and untried?’ War and Peace
42 of 2882
‘I should like,’ said the vicomte, ‘to ask how monsieur
explains the 18th Brumaire; was not that an imposture? It
was a swindle, and not at all like the conduct of a great
man!’
‘And the prisoners he killed in Africa? That was
horrible!’ said the little princess, shrugging her shoulders.
‘He’s a low fellow, say what you will,’ remarked
Prince Hippolyte.
Pierre, not knowing whom to answer, looked at them
all and smiled. His smile was unlike the half-smile of
other people. When he smiled, his grave, even rather
gloomy, look was instantaneously replaced by another- a
childlike, kindly, even rather silly look, which seemed to
ask forgiveness.
The vicomte who was meeting him for the first time
saw clearly that this young Jacobin was not so terrible as
his words suggested. All were silent.
‘How do you expect him to answer you all at once?’
said Prince Andrew. ‘Besides, in the actions of a
statesman one has to distinguish between his acts as a
private person, as a general, and as an emperor. So it
seems to me.’
‘Yes, yes, of course!’ Pierre chimed in, pleased at the
arrival of this reinforcement. War and Peace
43 of 2882
‘One must admit,’ continued Prince Andrew, ‘that
Napoleon as a man was great on the bridge of Arcola, and
in the hospital at Jaffa where he gave his hand to the
plague-stricken; but... but there are other acts which it is
difficult to justify.’
Prince Andrew, who had evidently wished to tone
down the awkwardness of Pierre’s remarks, rose and
made a sign to his wife that it was time to go.
Suddenly Prince Hippolyte started up making signs to
everyone to attend, and asking them all to be seated
began:
‘I was told a charming Moscow story today and must
treat you to it. Excuse me, Vicomte- I must tell it in
Russian or the point will be lost....’ And Prince Hippolyte
began to tell his story in such Russian as a Frenchman
would speak after spending about a year in Russia.
Everyone waited, so emphatically and eagerly did he
demand their attention to his story.
‘There is in Moscow a lady, une dame, and she is very
stingy. She must have two footmen behind her carriage,
and very big ones. That was her taste. And she had a
lady’s maid, also big. She said..’
Here Prince Hippolyte paused, evidently collecting his
ideas with difficulty. War and Peace
44 of 2882
‘She said... Oh yes! She said, ‘Girl,’ to the maid, ‘put
on a livery, get up behind the carriage, and come with me
while I make some calls.’’
Here Prince Hippolyte spluttered and burst out
laughing long before his audience, which produced an
effect unfavorable to the narrator. Several persons, among
them the elderly lady and Anna Pavlovna, did however
smile.
‘She went. Suddenly there was a great wind. The girl
lost her hat and her long hair came down....’ Here he
could contain himself no longer and went on, between
gasps of laughter: ‘And the whole world knew...’
And so the anecdote ended. Though it was
unintelligible why he had told it, or why it had to be told
in Russian, still Anna Pavlovna and the others appreciated
Prince Hippolyte’s social tact in so agreeably ending
Pierre’s unpleasant and unamiable outburst. After the
anecdote the conversation broke up into insignificant
small talk about the last and next balls, about theatricals,
and who would meet whom, and when and where. War and Peace
45 of 2882
Chapter VI
Having thanked Anna Pavlovna for her charming
soiree, the guests began to take their leave.
Pierre was ungainly. Stout, about the average height,
broad, with huge red hands; he did not know, as the
saying is, to enter a drawing room and still less how to
leave one; that is, how to say something particularly
agreeable before going away. Besides this he was absentminded.
When he rose to go, he took up instead of his
own, the general’s three-cornered hat, and held it, pulling
at the plume, till the general asked him to restore it. All
his absent-mindedness and inability to enter a room and
converse in it was, however, redeemed by his kindly,
simple, and modest expression. Anna Pavlovna turned
toward him and, with a Christian mildness that expressed
forgiveness of his indiscretion, nodded and said: ‘I hope
to see you again, but I also hope you will change your
opinions, my dear Monsieur Pierre.’
When she said this, he did not reply and only bowed,
but again everybody saw his smile, which said nothing,
unless perhaps, ‘Opinions are opinions, but you see what War and Peace
46 of 2882
a capital, good-natured fellow I am.’ And everyone,
including Anna Pavlovna, felt this.
Prince Andrew had gone out into the hall, and, turning
his shoulders to the footman who was helping him on
with his cloak, listened indifferently to his wife’s chatter
with Prince Hippolyte who had also come into the hall.
Prince Hippolyte stood close to the pretty, pregnant
princess, and stared fixedly at her through his eyeglass.
‘Go in, Annette, or you will catch cold,’ said the little
princess, taking leave of Anna Pavlovna. ‘It is settled,’
she added in a low voice.
Anna Pavlovna had already managed to speak to Lise
about the match she contemplated between Anatole and
the little princess’ sister-in-law.
‘I rely on you, my dear,’ said Anna Pavlovna, also in a
low tone. ‘Write to her and let me know how her father
looks at the matter. Au revoir!’- and she left the hall.
Prince Hippolyte approached the little princess and,
bending his face close to her, began to whisper
something.
Two footmen, the princess’ and his own, stood holding
a shawl and a cloak, waiting for the conversation to finish.
They listened to the French sentences which to them were
meaningless, with an air of understanding but not wishing War and Peace
47 of 2882
to appear to do so. The princess as usual spoke smilingly
and listened with a laugh.
‘I am very glad I did not go to the ambassador’s,’ said
Prince Hippolyte ‘-so dull-. It has been a delightful
evening, has it not? Delightful!’
‘They say the ball will be very good,’ replied the
princess, drawing up her downy little lip. ‘All the pretty
women in society will be there.’
‘Not all, for you will not be there; not all,’ said Prince
Hippolyte smiling joyfully; and snatching the shawl from
the footman, whom he even pushed aside, he began
wrapping it round the princess. Either from awkwardness
or intentionally (no one could have said which) after the
shawl had been adjusted he kept his arm around her for a
long time, as though embracing her.
Still smiling, she gracefully moved away, turning and
glancing at her husband. Prince Andrew’s eyes were
closed, so weary and sleepy did he seem.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked his wife, looking past her.
Prince Hippolyte hurriedly put on his cloak, which in
the latest fashion reached to his very heels, and, stumbling
in it, ran out into the porch following the princess, whom
a footman was helping into the carriage. War and Peace
48 of 2882
‘Princesse, au revoir,’ cried he, stumbling with his
tongue as well as with his feet.
The princess, picking up her dress, was taking her seat
in the dark carriage, her husband was adjusting his saber;
Prince Hippolyte, under pretense of helping, was in
everyone’s way.
‘Allow me, sir,’ said Prince Andrew in Russian in a
cold, disagreeable tone to Prince Hippolyte who was
blocking his path.
‘I am expecting you, Pierre,’ said the same voice, but
gently and affectionately.
The postilion started, the carriage wheels rattled.
Prince Hippolyte laughed spasmodically as he stood in the
porch waiting for the vicomte whom he had promised to
take home.
‘Well, mon cher,’ said the vicomte, having seated
himself beside Hippolyte in the carriage, ‘your little
princess is very nice, very nice indeed, quite French,’ and
he kissed the tips of his fingers. Hippolyte burst out
laughing.
‘Do you know, you are a terrible chap for all your
innocent airs,’ continued the vicomte. ‘I pity the poor
husband, that little officer who gives himself the airs of a
monarch.’ War and Peace
49 of 2882
Hippolyte spluttered again, and amid his laughter said,
‘And you were saying that the Russian ladies are not
equal to the French? One has to know how to deal with
them.’
Pierre reaching the house first went into Prince
Andrew’s study like one quite at home, and from habit
immediately lay down on the sofa, took from the shelf the
first book that came to his hand (it was Caesar’s
Commentaries), and resting on his elbow, began reading it
in the middle.
‘What have you done to Mlle Scherer? She will be
quite ill now,’ said Prince Andrew, as he entered the
study, rubbing his small white hands.
Pierre turned his whole body, making the sofa creak.
He lifted his eager face to Prince Andrew, smiled, and
waved his hand.
‘That abbe is very interesting but he does not see the
thing in the right light.... In my opinion perpetual peace is
possible but- I do not know how to express it... not by a
balance of political power...’
It was evident that Prince Andrew was not interested in
such abstract conversation.
‘One can’t everywhere say all one thinks, mon cher.
Well, have you at last decided on anything? Are you War and Peace
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going to be a guardsman or a diplomatist?’ asked Prince
Andrew after a momentary silence.
Pierre sat up on the sofa, with his legs tucked under
him.
‘Really, I don’t yet know. I don’t like either the one or
the other.’
‘But you must decide on something! Your father
expects it.’
Pierre at the age of ten had been sent abroad with an
abbe as tutor, and had remained away till he was twenty.
When he returned to Moscow his father dismissed the
abbe and said to the young man, ‘Now go to Petersburg,
look round, and choose your profession. I will agree to
anything. Here is a letter to Prince Vasili, and here is
money. Write to me all about it, and I will help you in
everything.’ Pierre had already been choosing a career for
three months, and had not decided on anything. It was
about this choice that Prince Andrew was speaking. Pierre
rubbed his forehead.
‘But he must be a Freemason,’ said he, referring to the
abbe whom he had met that evening.
‘That is all nonsense.’ Prince Andrew again interrupted
him, ‘let us talk business. Have you been to the Horse
Guards?’ War and Peace
51 of 2882
‘No, I have not; but this is what I have been thinking
and wanted to tell you. There is a war now against
Napoleon. If it were a war for freedom I could understand
it and should be the first to enter the army; but to help
England and Austria against the greatest man in the world
is not right.’
Prince Andrew only shrugged his shoulders at Pierre’s
childish words. He put on the air of one who finds it
impossible to reply to such nonsense, but it would in fact
have been difficult to give any other answer than the one
Prince Andrew gave to this naive question.
‘If no one fought except on his own conviction, there
would be no wars,’ he said.
‘And that would be splendid,’ said Pierre.
Prince Andrew smiled ironically.
‘Very likely it would be splendid, but it will never
come about..’
‘Well, why are you going to the war?’ asked Pierre.
‘What for? I don’t know. I must. Besides that I am
going...’ He paused. ‘I am going because the life I am
leading here does not suit me!’ War and Peace
52 of 2882
Chapter VII
The rustle of a woman’s dress was heard in the next
room. Prince Andrew shook himself as if waking up, and
his face assumed the look it had had in Anna Pavlovna’s
drawing room. Pierre removed his feet from the sofa. The
princess came in. She had changed her gown for a house
dress as fresh and elegant as the other. Prince Andrew
rose and politely placed a chair for her.
‘How is it,’ she began, as usual in French, settling
down briskly and fussily in the easy chair, ‘how is it
Annette never got married? How stupid you men all are
not to have married her! Excuse me for saying so, but you
have no sense about women. What an argumentative
fellow you are, Monsieur Pierre!’
‘And I am still arguing with your husband. I can’t
understand why he wants to go to the war,’ replied Pierre,
addressing the princess with none of the embarrassment
so commonly shown by young men in their intercourse
with young women.
The princess started. Evidently Pierre’s words touched
her to the quick. War and Peace
53 of 2882
‘Ah, that is just what I tell him!’ said she. ‘I don’t
understand it; I don’t in the least understand why men
can’t live without wars. How is it that we women don’t
want anything of the kind, don’t need it? Now you shall
judge between us. I always tell him: Here he is Uncle’s
aide-de-camp, a most brilliant position. He is so well
known, so much appreciated by everyone. The other day
at the Apraksins’ I heard a lady asking, ‘Is that the famous
Prince Andrew?’ I did indeed.’ She laughed. ‘He is so
well received everywhere. He might easily become aidede-camp
to the Emperor. You know the Emperor spoke to
him most graciously. Annette and I were speaking of how
to arrange it. What do you think?’
Pierre looked at his friend and, noticing that he did not
like the conversation, gave no reply.
‘When are you starting?’ he asked.
‘Oh, don’t speak of his going, don’t! I won’t hear it
spoken of,’ said the princess in the same petulantly
playful tone in which she had spoken to Hippolyte in the
drawing room and which was so plainly ill-suited to the
family circle of which Pierre was almost a member.
‘Today when I remembered that all these delightful
associations must be broken off... and then you know,
Andre...’ (she looked significantly at her husband) ‘I’m War and Peace
54 of 2882
afraid, I’m afraid!’ she whispered, and a shudder ran
down her back.
Her husband looked at her as if surprised to notice that
someone besides Pierre and himself was in the room, and
addressed her in a tone of frigid politeness.
‘What is it you are afraid of, Lise? I don’t understand,’
said he.
‘There, what egotists men all are: all, all egotists! Just
for a whim of his own, goodness only knows why, he
leaves me and locks me up alone in the country.’
‘With my father and sister, remember,’ said Prince
Andrew gently.
‘Alone all the same, without my friends.... And he
expects me not to be afraid.’
Her tone was now querulous and her lip drawn up,
giving her not a joyful, but an animal, squirrel-like
expression. She paused as if she felt it indecorous to
speak of her pregnancy before Pierre, though the gist of
the matter lay in that.
‘I still can’t understand what you are afraid of,’ said
Prince Andrew slowly, not taking his eyes off his wife.
The princess blushed, and raised her arms with a
gesture of despair. War and Peace
55 of 2882
‘No, Andrew, I must say you have changed. Oh, how
you have..’
‘Your doctor tells you to go to bed earlier,’ said Prince
Andrew. ‘You had better go.’
The princess said nothing, but suddenly her short
downy lip quivered. Prince Andrew rose, shrugged his
shoulders, and walked about the room.
Pierre looked over his spectacles with naive surprise,
now at him and now at her, moved as if about to rise too,
but changed his mind.
‘Why should I mind Monsieur Pierre being here?’
exclaimed the little princess suddenly, her pretty face all
at once distorted by a tearful grimace. ‘I have long wanted
to ask you, Andrew, why you have changed so to me?
What have I done to you? You are going to the war and
have no pity for me. Why is it?’
‘Lise!’ was all Prince Andrew said. But that one word
expressed an entreaty, a threat, and above all conviction
that she would herself regret her words. But she went on
hurriedly:
‘You treat me like an invalid or a child. I see it all! Did
you behave like that six months ago?’
‘Lise, I beg you to desist,’ said Prince Andrew still
more emphatically. War and Peace
Edit Your Profile
report abuse delete Anonymous (Legend) wrote on Mon, 26 Jan 2015 03:57:38 GMT reply
.‘If you have nothing better to do, Count [or Prince],
and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor
invalid is not too terrible, I shall be very charmed to see
you tonight between 7 and 10- Annette Scherer.’
‘Heavens! what a virulent attack!’ replied the prince,
not in the least disconcerted by this reception. He had just
entered, wearing an embroidered court uniform, knee
breeches, and shoes, and had stars on his breast and a
serene expression on his flat face. He spoke in that refined
French in which our grandfathers not only spoke but
thought, and with the gentle, patronizing intonation
natural to a man of importance who had grown old in
society and at court. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed
her hand, presenting to her his bald, scented, and shining
head, and complacently seated himself on the sofa.
‘First of all, dear friend, tell me how you are. Set your
friend’s mind at rest,’ said he without altering his tone,
beneath the politeness and affected sympathy of which
indifference and even irony could be discerned.
‘Can one be well while suffering morally? Can one be
calm in times like these if one has any feeling?’ said Anna
Pavlovna. ‘You are staying the whole evening, I hope?’ War and Peace
5 of 2882
‘And the fete at the English ambassador’s? Today is
Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there,’ said the
prince. ‘My daughter is coming for me to take me there.’
‘I thought today’s fete had been canceled. I confess all
these festivities and fireworks are becoming wearisome.’
‘If they had known that you wished it, the
entertainment would have been put off,’ said the prince,
who, like a wound-up clock, by force of habit said things
he did not even wish to be believed.
‘Don’t tease! Well, and what has been decided about
Novosiltsev’s dispatch? You know everything.’
‘What can one say about it?’ replied the prince in a
cold, listless tone. ‘What has been decided? They have
decided that Buonaparte has burnt his boats, and I believe
that we are ready to burn ours.’
Prince Vasili always spoke languidly, like an actor
repeating a stale part. Anna Pavlovna Scherer on the
contrary, despite her forty years, overflowed with
animation and impulsiveness. To be an enthusiast had
become her social vocation and, sometimes even when
she did not feel like it, she became enthusiastic in order
not to disappoint the expectations of those who knew her.
The subdued smile which, though it did not suit her faded
features, always played round her lips expressed, as in a War and Peace
6 of 2882
spoiled child, a continual consciousness of her charming
defect, which she neither wished, nor could, nor
considered it necessary, to correct.
In the midst of a conversation on political matters
Anna Pavlovna burst out:
‘Oh, don’t speak to me of Austria. Perhaps I don’t
understand things, but Austria never has wished, and does
not wish, for war. She is betraying us! Russia alone must
save Europe. Our gracious sovereign recognizes his high
vocation and will be true to it. That is the one thing I have
faith in! Our good and wonderful sovereign has to
perform the noblest role on earth, and he is so virtuous
and noble that God will not forsake him. He will fulfill his
vocation and crush the hydra of revolution, which has
become more terrible than ever in the person of this
murderer and villain! We alone must avenge the blood of
the just one.... Whom, I ask you, can we rely on?...
England with her commercial spirit will not and cannot
understand the Emperor Alexander’s loftiness of soul. She
has refused to evacuate Malta. She wanted to find, and
still seeks, some secret motive in our actions. What
answer did Novosiltsev get? None. The English have not
understood and cannot understand the self-abnegation of
our Emperor who wants nothing for himself, but only War and Peace
7 of 2882
desires the good of mankind. And what have they
promised? Nothing! And what little they have promised
they will not perform! Prussia has always declared that
Buonaparte is invincible, and that all Europe is powerless
before him.... And I don’t believe a word that Hardenburg
says, or Haugwitz either. This famous Prussian neutrality
is just a trap. I have faith only in God and the lofty destiny
of our adored monarch. He will save Europe!’
She suddenly paused, smiling at her own impetuosity.
‘I think,’ said the prince with a smile, ‘that if you had
been sent instead of our dear Wintzingerode you would
have captured the King of Prussia’s consent by assault.
You are so eloquent. Will you give me a cup of tea?’
‘In a moment. A propos,’ she added, becoming calm
again, ‘I am expecting two very interesting men tonight,
le Vicomte de Mortemart, who is connected with the
Montmorencys through the Rohans, one of the best
French families. He is one of the genuine emigres, the
good ones. And also the Abbe Morio. Do you know that
profound thinker? He has been received by the Emperor.
Had you heard?’
‘I shall be delighted to meet them,’ said the prince.
‘But tell me,’ he added with studied carelessness as if it
had only just occurred to him, though the question he was War and Peace
8 of 2882
about to ask was the chief motive of his visit, ‘is it true
that the Dowager Empress wants Baron Funke to be
appointed first secretary at Vienna? The baron by all
accounts is a poor creature.’
Prince Vasili wished to obtain this post for his son, but
others were trying through the Dowager Empress Marya
Fedorovna to secure it for the baron.
Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to indicate that
neither she nor anyone else had a right to criticize what
the Empress desired or was pleased with.
‘Baron Funke has been recommended to the Dowager
Empress by her sister,’ was all she said, in a dry and
mournful tone.
As she named the Empress, Anna Pavlovna’s face
suddenly assumed an expression of profound and sincere
devotion and respect mingled with sadness, and this
occurred every time she mentioned her illustrious
patroness. She added that Her Majesty had deigned to
show Baron Funke beaucoup d’estime, and again her face
clouded over with sadness.
The prince was silent and looked indifferent. But, with
the womanly and courtierlike quickness and tact habitual
to her, Anna Pavlovna wished both to rebuke him (for
daring to speak he had done of a man recommended to the War and Peace
9 of 2882
Empress) and at the same time to console him, so she
said:
‘Now about your family. Do you know that since your
daughter came out everyone has been enraptured by her?
They say she is amazingly beautiful.’
The prince bowed to signify his respect and gratitude.
‘I often think,’ she continued after a short pause,
drawing nearer to the prince and smiling amiably at him
as if to show that political and social topics were ended
and the time had come for intimate conversation- ‘I often
think how unfairly sometimes the joys of life are
distributed. Why has fate given you two such splendid
children? I don’t speak of Anatole, your youngest. I don’t
like him,’ she added in a tone admitting of no rejoinder
and raising her eyebrows. ‘Two such charming children.
And really you appreciate them less than anyone, and so
you don’t deserve to have them.’
And she smiled her ecstatic smile.
‘I can’t help it,’ said the prince. ‘Lavater would have
said I lack the bump of paternity.’
‘Don’t joke; I mean to have a serious talk with you. Do
you know I am dissatisfied with your younger son?
Between ourselves’ (and her face assumed its melancholy War and Peace
10 of 2882
expression), ‘he was mentioned at Her Majesty’s and you
were pitied...’
The prince answered nothing, but she looked at him
significantly, awaiting a reply. He frowned.
‘What would you have me do?’ he said at last. ‘You
know I did all a father could for their education, and they
have both turned out fools. Hippolyte is at least a quiet
fool, but Anatole is an active one. That is the only
difference between them.’ He said this smiling in a way
more natural and animated than usual, so that the wrinkles
round his mouth very clearly revealed something
unexpectedly coarse and unpleasant.
‘And why are children born to such men as you? If you
were not a father there would be nothing I could reproach
you with,’ said Anna Pavlovna, looking up pensively.
‘I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess
that my children are the bane of my life. It is the cross I
have to bear. That is how I explain it to myself. It can’t be
helped!’
He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel
fate by a gesture. Anna Pavlovna meditated.
‘Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal
son Anatole?’ she asked. ‘They say old maids have a
mania for matchmaking, and though I don’t feel that War and Peace
11 of 2882
weakness in myself as yet,I know a little person who is
very unhappy with her father. She is a relation of yours,
Princess Mary Bolkonskaya.’
Prince Vasili did not reply, though, with the quickness
of memory and perception befitting a man of the world,
he indicated by a movement of the head that he was
considering this information.
‘Do you know,’ he said at last, evidently unable to
check the sad current of his thoughts, ‘that Anatole is
costing me forty thousand rubles a year? And,’ he went
on after a pause, ‘what will it be in five years, if he goes
on like this?’ Presently he added: ‘That’s what we fathers
have to put up with.... Is this princess of yours rich?’
‘Her father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the
country. He is the well-known Prince Bolkonski who had
to retire from the army under the late Emperor, and was
nicknamed ‘the King of Prussia.’ He is very clever but
eccentric, and a bore. The poor girl is very unhappy. She
has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise
Meinen lately. He is an aide-de-camp of Kutuzov’s and
will be here tonight.’
‘Listen, dear Annette,’ said the prince, suddenly taking
Anna Pavlovna’s hand and for some reason drawing it
downwards. ‘Arrange that affair for me and I shall always War and Peace
12 of 2882
be your most devoted slave- slafe wigh an f, as a village
elder of mine writes in his reports. She is rich and of good
family and that’s all I want.’
And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to
him, he raised the maid of honor’s hand to his lips, kissed
it, and swung it to and fro as he lay back in his armchair,
looking in another direction.
‘Attendez,’ said Anna Pavlovna, reflecting, ‘I’ll speak
to Lise, young Bolkonski’s wife, this very evening, and
perhaps the thing can be arranged. It shall be on your
family’s behalf that I’ll start my apprenticeship as old
maid.’ War and Peace
13 of 2882
Chapter II
Anna Pavlovna’s drawing room was gradually filling.
The highest Petersburg society was assembled there:
people differing widely in age and character but alike in
the social circle to which they belonged. Prince Vasili’s
daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her father to
the ambassador’s entertainment; she wore a ball dress and
her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess
Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de
Petersbourg,* was also there. She had been married
during the previous winter, and being pregnant did not go
to any large gatherings, but only to small receptions.
Prince Vasili’s son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart,
whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others
had also come.
*The most fascinating woman in Petersburg.
To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, ‘You have
not yet seen my aunt,’ or ‘You do not know my aunt?’
and very gravely conducted him or her to a little old lady,
wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who had come
sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began
to arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to War and Peace
14 of 2882
her aunt, Anna Pavlovna mentioned each one’s name and
then left them.
Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this
old aunt whom not one of them knew, not one of them
wanted to know, and not one of them cared about; Anna
Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful and
solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to
each of them in the same words, about their health and her
own, and the health of Her Majesty, ‘who, thank God,
was better today.’ And each visitor, though politeness
prevented his showing impatience, left the old woman
with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious
duty and did not return to her the whole evening.
The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some
work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little
upper lip, on which a delicate dark down was just
perceptible, was too short for her teeth, but it lifted all the
more sweetly, and was especially charming when she
occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is
always the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her
defect- the shortness of her upper lip and her half-open
mouth- seemed to be her own special and peculiar form of
beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of this pretty
young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life War and Peace
15 of 2882
and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men
and dull dispirited young ones who looked at her, after
being in her company and talking to her a little while, felt
as if they too were becoming, like her, full of life and
health. All who talked to her, and at each word saw her
bright smile and the constant gleam of her white teeth,
thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that
day.
The little princess went round the table with quick,
short, swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily
spreading out her dress sat down on a sofa near the silver
samovar, as if all she was doing was a pleasure to herself
and to all around her. ‘I have brought my work,’ said she
in French, displaying her bag and addressing all present.
‘Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked
trick on me,’ she added, turning to her hostess. ‘You
wrote that it was to be quite a small reception, and just see
how badly I am dressed.’ And she spread out her arms to
show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, dainty gray dress,
girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast.
‘Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier
than anyone else,’ replied Anna Pavlovna.
‘You know,’ said the princess in the same tone of
voice and still in French, turning to a general, ‘my War and Peace
16 of 2882
husband is deserting me? He is going to get himself
killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?’ she added,
addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an
answer she turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful
Helene.
‘What a delightful woman this little princess is!’ said
Prince Vasili to Anna Pavlovna.
One of the next arrivals was a stout, heavily built
young man with close-cropped hair, spectacles, the lightcolored
breeches fashionable at that time, a very high
ruffle, and a brown dress coat. This stout young man was
an illegitimate son of Count Bezukhov, a well-known
grandee of Catherine’s time who now lay dying in
Moscow. The young man had not yet entered either the
military or civil service, as he had only just returned from
abroad where he had been educated, and this was his first
appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with
the nod she accorded to the lowest hierarchy in her
drawing room. But in spite of this

Mon, 26 Jan 2015 20:08:39 GMT

Derek Jeter's Fan Forum

WRONG again. It's after lunch so you're back partying again, lying about Derek Jeter.
He is still in Upstate New York and won't be in Florida as long as threats on family lives exist.

Mon, 26 Jan 2015 20:06:28 GMT

Derek Jeter's Fan Forum

PG i think he's been having it for a while back in 01 or 03 he said he's favorite car was a ferrari. he could have been speaking in general but i think i saw a pic of a ferrari outside his house

Mon, 26 Jan 2015 20:01:46 GMT

Tim Lincecum's Girlfriend

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