first epilogue-第11节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



reasons　to　rejoice　or　grieve　over　that　occurrence　independently　of　the

others。

　　For　instance；　Pierre's　return　was　a　joyful　and　important　event　and

they　all　felt　it　to　be　so。

　　The　servants…　the　most　reliable　judges　of　their　masters　because　they

judge　not　by　their　conversation　or　expressions　of　feeling　but　by　their

acts　and　way　of　life…　were　glad　of　Pierre's　return　because　they　knew

that　when　he　was　there　Count　Nicholas　would　cease　going　every　day

attend　to　the　estate；　and　would　would　be　in　better　spirits　and　temper；

and　also　because　they　would　all　receive　handsome　presents　for　the

holidays。

　　The　children　and　their　governesses　were　glad　of　Pierre's　return

because　no　one　else　drew　them　into　the　social　life　of　the　household　as

he　did。　He　alone　could　play　on　the　clavichord　that　ecossaise　（his　only

piece）　to　which；　as　he　said；　all　possible　dances　could　be　danced；

and　they　felt　sure　he　had　brought　presents　for　them　all。

　　Young　Nicholas；　now　a　slim　lad　of　fifteen；　delicate　and　intelligent；

with　curly　light…brown　hair　and　beautiful　eyes；　was　delighted

because　Uncle　Pierre　as　he　called　him　was　the　object　of　his

rapturous　and　passionate　affection。　No　one　had　instilled　into　him　this

love　for　Pierre　whom　he　saw　only　occasionally。　Countess　Mary　who　had

brought　him　up　had　done　her　utmost　to　make　him　love　her　husband　as　she

loved　him；　and　little　Nicholas　did　love　his　uncle；　but　loved　him

with　just　a　shade　of　contempt。　Pierre；　however；　he　adored。　He　did

not　want　to　be　an　hussar　or　a　Knight　of　St。　George　like　his　uncle

Nicholas；　he　wanted　to　be　learned；　wise；　and　kind　like　Pierre。　In

Pierre's　presence　his　face　always　shone　with　pleasure　and　he　flushed

and　was　breathless　when　Pierre　spoke　to　him。　He　did　not　miss　a

single　word　he　uttered；　and　would　afterwards；　with　Dessalles　or　by

himself；　recall　and　reconsider　the　meaning　of　everything　Pierre　had

said。　Pierre's　past　life　and　his　unhappiness　prior　to　1812　（of　which

young　Nicholas　had　formed　a　vague　poetic　picture　from　some　words　he

had　overheard）；　his　adventures　in　Moscow；　his　captivity；　Platon

Karataev　（of　whom　he　had　heard　from　Pierre）；　his　love　for　Natasha

（of　whom　the　lad　was　also　particularly　fond）；　and　especially

Pierre's　friendship　with　the　father　whom　Nicholas　could　not

remember…　all　this　made　Pierre　in　his　eyes　a　hero　and　a　saint。

　　From　broken　remarks　about　Natasha　and　his　father；　from　the　emotion

with　which　Pierre　spoke　of　that　dead　father；　and　from　the　careful；

reverent　tenderness　with　which　Natasha　spoke　of　him；　the　boy；　who

was　only　just　beginning　to　guess　what　love　is；　derived　the　notion　that

his　father　had　loved　Natasha　and　when　dying　had　left　her　to　his

friend。　But　the　father　whom　the　boy　did　not　remember　appeared　to　him　a

divinity　who　could　not　be　pictured；　and　of　whom　he　never　thought

without　a　swelling　heart　and　tears　of　sadness　and　rapture。　So　the

boy　also　was　happy　that　Pierre　had　arrived。

　　The　guests　welcomed　Pierre　because　he　always　helped　to　enliven　and

unite　any　company　he　was　in。

　　The　grown…up　members　of　the　family；　not　to　mention　his　wife；　were

pleased　to　have　back　a　friend　whose　presence　made　life　run　more

smoothly　and　peacefully。

　　The　old　ladies　were　pleased　with　the　presents　he　brought　them；　and

especially　that　Natasha　would　now　be　herself　again。

　　Pierre　felt　the　different　outlooks　of　these　various　worlds　and

made　haste　to　satisfy　all　their　expectations。

　　Though　the　most　absent…minded　and　forgetful　of　men；　Pierre；　with　the

aid　of　a　list　his　wife　drew　up；　had　now　bought　everything；　not

forgetting　his　mother…　and　brother…in…law's　commissions；　nor　the　dress

material　for　a　present　to　Belova；　nor　toys　for　his　wife's　nephews。

In　the　early　days　of　his　marriage　it　had　seemed　strange　to　him　that

his　wife　should　expect　him　not　to　forget　to　procure　all　the　things

he　undertook　to　buy；　and　he　had　been　taken　aback　by　her　serious

annoyance　when　on　his　first　trip　he　forgot　everything。　But　in　time

he　grew　used　to　this　demand。　Knowing　that　Natasha　asked　nothing　for

herself；　and　gave　him　commissions　for　others　only　when　he　himself

had　offered　to　undertake　them；　he　now　found　an　unexpected　and

childlike　pleasure　in　this　purchase　of　presents　for　everyone　in　the

house；　and　never　forgot　anything。　If　he　now　incurred　Natasha's　censure

it　was　only　for　buying　too　many　and　too　expensive　things。　To　her　other

defects　（as　most　people　thought　them；　but　which　to　Pierre　were

qualities）　of　untidiness　and　neglect　of　herself；　she　now　added

stinginess。

　　From　the　time　that　Pierre　began　life　as　a　family　man　on　a　footing

entailing　heavy　expenditure；　he　had　noticed　to　his　surprise　that　he

spent　only　half　as　much　as　before；　and　that　his　affairs…　which　had

been　in　disorder　of　late；　chiefly　because　of　his　first　wife's　debts…

had　begun　to　improve。

　　Life　was　cheaper　because　it　was　circumscribed：　that　most　expensive

luxury；　the　kind　of　life　that　can　be　changed　at　any　moment；　was　no

longer　his　nor　did　he　wish　for　it。　He　felt　that　his　way　of　life　had

now　been　settled　once　for　all　till　death　and　that　to　change　it　was　not

in　his　power；　and　so　that　way　of　life　proved　economical。

　　With　a　merry；　smiling　face　Pierre　was　sorting　his　purchases。

　　〃What　do　you　think　of　this？〃　said　he；　unrolling　a　piece　of　stuff

like　a　shopman。

　　Natasha；　who　was　sitting　opposite　to　him　with　her　eldest　daughter　on

her　lap；　turned　her　sparkling　eyes　swiftly　from　her　husband　to　the

things　he　showed　her。

　　〃That's　for　Belova？　Excellent！〃　She　felt　the　quality　of　the

material。　〃It　was　a　ruble　an　arshin；　I　suppose？〃

　　Pierre　told　her　the　price。

　　〃Too　dear！〃　Natasha　remarked。　〃How　pleased　the　children　will　be

and　Mamma　too！　Only　you　need　not　have　bought　me　this；〃　she　added；

unable　to　suppress　a　smile　as　she　gazed　admiringly　at　a　gold　comb

set　with　pearls；　of　a　kind　then　just　coming　into　fashion。

　　〃Adele　tempted　me：　she　kept　on　telling　me　to　buy　it；〃　returned

Pierre。

　　〃When　am　I　to　wear　it？〃　and　Natasha　stuck　it　in　her　coil　of　hair。

〃When　I　take　little　Masha　into　society？　Perhaps　they　will　be

fashionable　again　by　then。　Well；　let's　go　now。〃

　　And　collecting　the　presents　they　went　first　to　the　nursery　and

then　to　the　old　countess'　rooms。

　　The　countess　was　sitting　with　her　companion　Belova；　playing

grand…patience　as　usual；　when　Pierre　and　Natasha　came　into　the　drawing

room　with　parcels　under　their　arms。

　　The　countess　was　now　over　sixty；　was　quite　gray；　and　wore　a　cap　with

a　frill　that　surrounded　her　face。　Her　face　had　shriveled；　her　upper

lip　had　sunk　in；　and　her　eyes　were　dim。

　　After　the　deaths　of　her　son　and　husband　in　such　rapid　succession；

she　felt　herself　a　being　accidentally　forgotten　in　this　world　and　left

without　aim　or　object　for　her　existence。　She　ate；　drank；　slept；　or

kept　awake；　but　did　not　live。　Life　gave　her　no　new　impressions。　She

wanted　nothing　from　life　but　tranquillity；　and　that　tranquillity

only　death　could　give　her。　But　until　death　came　she　had　to　go　on

living；　that　is；　to　use　her　vital　forces。　A　peculiarity　one　sees　in

very　young　children　and　very　old　people　was　particularly　evident　in

her。　Her　life　had　no　external　aims…　only　a　need　to　exercise　her

various　functions　and　inclinations　was　apparent。　She　had　to　eat；

sleep；　think；　speak；　weep；　work；　give　vent　to　her　anger；　and　so　on；

merely　because　she　had　a　stomach；　a　brain；　muscles；　nerves；　and　a

liver。　She　did　these　things　not　under　any　external　impulse　as　people

in　the　full　vigor　of　life　do；　when　behind　the　purpose　for　which　they

strive　that　of　exercising　their　functions　remains　unnoticed。　She

talked　only　because　she　physically　needed　to　exercise　her　tongue　and

lungs。　She　cried　as　a　child　does；　because　her　nose　had　to　be

cleared；　and　so　on。　What　for　people　in　their　full　vigor　is　an　aim

was　for　her　evidently　merely　a　pretext。

　　Thus　in　the　morning…　especially　if　she　had　eaten　anything　rich　the

day　before…　she　felt　a　need　of　being　angry　and　would　choose　as　the

handiest　pretext　Belova's　deafness。

　　She　would　begin　to　say　something　to　her　in　a　low　tone　from　the　other

end　of　the　room。

　　〃It　seems　a　little　warmer　today；　my　dear；〃　she　would　murmur。

　　And　when　Belova　replied：　〃Oh　yes；　they've　come；〃　she　would　mutter

angrily：　〃O　Lord！　How　stupid　and　deaf　she　is！〃

　　Another　pretext　would　be　her　snuff；　which　would　seem　too　dry　or

too　damp　or　not　rubbed　fine　enough。　After　these　fits　of　irritability

her　face　would　grow　yellow；　and　her　maids　knew　by　infallible

symptoms　when　Belova　would　again　be　deaf；　the　snuff　damp；　and　the

countess'　face　yellow。　Just　as　she　needed　to　work　off　her　spleen　so

she　had　sometimes　to　exercise　her　still…existing　faculty　of

thinking…　and　the　pretext　for　that　was　a　game　of　patience。　When　she

needed　to　cry；　the　deceased　count　would　be　the　pretext。　When　she

wanted　to　be　agitated；　Nicholas　and　his　health　would　be　the　pretext；

and　when　she　felt　a　need　to　speak　spitefully；　the　pretext　would　be

Countess　Mary。　When　her　vocal　organs　needed　exerc