战争与和平(上)-第277节

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change　of　position；　put　his　thoughts　to　confusion　again；　and　it　was　only　in　the　complete　stillness　of　the　night　that　he　came　to　himself　again　for　the　third　time。　Every　one　was　asleep　around　him。　A　cricket　was　chirping　across　the　passage；　some　one　was　shouting　and　singing　in　the　street；　cockroaches　were　rustling　over　the　table；　the　holy　images　and　the　walls；　a　big　fly　flopped　on　his　pillow　and　about　the　tallow　candle　that　stood　with　a　great；　smouldering　wick　beside　him。
His　soul　was　not　in　its　normal　state。　A　man　in　health　usually　thinks；　feels　and　remembers　simultaneously　an　immense　number　of　different　things；　but　he　has　the　power　and　the　faculty　of　selecting　one　series　of　ideas　or　phenomena　and　concentrating　all　his　attention　on　that　series。　A　man　in　health　can　at　the　moment　of　the　profoundest　thought　break　off　to　say　a　civil　word　to　any　one　who　comes　in；　and　then　return　again　to　his　thoughts。　Prince　Andrey’s　soul　was　not　in　a　normal　condition　in　this　respect。　All　the　faculties　of　his　soul　were　clearer　and　more　active　than　ever；　but　they　acted　apart　from　his　will。　The　most　diverse　ideas　and　images　had　possession　of　his　mind　at　the　same　time。　Sometimes　his　brain　suddenly　began　to　work；　and　with　a　force；　clearness；　and　depth　with　which　it　had　never　been　capable　of　working　in　health。　But　suddenly　the　train　of　thought　broke　off　in　the　midst；　to　be　replaced　by　some　unexpected　image；　and　the　power　to　go　back　to　it　was　wanting。　“Yes；　a　new　happiness　was　revealed　to　me；　that　could　not　be　taken　away　from　man；”　he　thought；　as　he　lay　in　the　still；　half…dark　hut；　gazing　before　him　with　feverishly　wide；　staring　eyes。　“Happiness　beyond　the　reach　of　material　forces；　outside　material；　external　influences　on　man；　the　happiness　of　the　soul　alone；　the　happiness　of　love！　To　feel　it　is　in　every　man’s　power；　but　God　alone　can　know　it　and　ordain　it。　But　how　did　God　ordain　this　law？　Why　the　Son？　…”　And　all　at　once　that　train　of　thought　broke　off；　and　Prince　Andrey　heard　（not　knowing　whether　in　delirium　or　in　actual　fact　he　heard　it）　a　kind　of　soft；　whispering　voice；　incessantly　beating　time：　“Piti…pitt…piti；”　and　then　“i…ti…ti；”　and　again；　“ipiti…piti…piti；”　and　again　“i…ti…ti。”　And　to　the　sound　of　this　murmuring　music　Prince　Andrey　felt　as　though　a　strange；　ethereal　edifice　of　delicate　needles　or　splinters　were　being　raised　over　his　face；　over　the　very　middle　of　it。　He　felt　that　（hard　though　it　was　for　him）　he　must　studiously　preserve　his　balance　that　this　rising　edifice　might　not　fall　to　pieces；　but　yet　it　was　falling　to　pieces；　and　slowly　rising　up　again　to　the　rhythmic　beat　of　the　murmuring　music。
“It　is　stretching　out；　stretching　out；　and　spreading　and　stretching　out！”　Prince　Andrey　said　to　himself。　While　he　listened　to　the　murmur　and　felt　that　edifice　of　needles　stretching　out；　and　rising　up；　Prince　Andrey　saw　by　glimpses　a　red　ring　of　light　round　the　candle；　and　heard　the　rustling　of　the　cockroaches　and　the　buzzing　of　the　fly　as　it　flopped　against　his　pillow　and　his　face。　And　every　time　the　fly　touched　his　face；　it　gave　him　a　stinging　sensation；　but　yet　it　surprised　him　that　though　the　fly　struck　him　in　the　very　centre　of　the　rising　edifice　it　did　not　shatter　it。　But；　apart　from　all　this；　there　was　one　other　thing　of　importance。　That　was　the　white　thing　at　the　door；　that　was　a　statue　of　the　sphinx；　which　oppressed　him　too
“But　perhaps　it　is　my　shirt　on　the　table；”　thought　Prince　Andrey；　“and　that’s　my　legs；　and　that’s　the　door；　but　why　this　straining　and　moving　and　piti…piti…piti　and　ti…ti　and　piti…piti…piti　…　Enough；　cease；　be　still；　please；”　Prince　Andrey　besought　some　one　wearily。　And　all　at　once　thought　and　feeling　floated　to　the　surface　again　with　extraordinary　clearness　and　force。
“Yes；　love　（he　thought　again　with　perfect　distinctness）；　but　not　that　love　that　loves　for　something；　to　gain　something；　or　because　of　something；　but　that　love　that　I　felt　for　the　first　time；　when　dying；　I　saw　my　enemy　and　yet　loved　him。　I　knew　that　feeling　of　love　which　is　the　very　essence　of　the　soul；　for　which　no　object　is　needed。　And　I　know　that　blissful　feeling　now　too。　To　love　one’s　neighbours；　to　love　one’s　enemies。　To　love　everything—to　love　God　in　all　His　manifestations。　Some　one　dear　to　one　can　be　loved　with　human　love；　but　an　enemy　can　only　be　loved　with　divine　love。　And　that　was　why　I　felt　such　joy　when　I　felt　that　I　loved　that　man。　What　happened　to　him？　Is　he　alive？　…　Loving　with　human　love；　one　may　pass　from　love　to　hatred；　but　divine　love　cannot　change。　Nothing；　not　even　death；　nothing　can　shatter　it。　It　is　the　very　nature　of　the　soul。　And　how　many　people　I　have　hated　in　my　life。　And　of　all　people　none　I　have　loved　and　hated　more　than　her。”　And　he　vividly　pictured　Natasha　to　himself；　not　as　he　had　pictured　her　in　the　past；　only　with　the　charm　that　had　been　a　joy　to　him；　for　the　first　time　he　pictured　to　himself　her　soul。　And　he　understood　her　feeling；　her　sufferings；　her　shame；　and　her　penitence。　Now；　for　the　first　time；　he　felt　all　the　cruelty　of　his　abandonment；　saw　all　the　cruelty　of　his　rupture　with　her。　“If　it　were　only　possible　for　me　to　see　her　once　more　…　once；　looking　into　those　eyes；　to　say　…”
Piti…piti…piti　iti…ti；　ipiti…piti—boom；　the　fly　flapped　…　And　his　attention　passed　all　at　once　into　another　world　of　reality　and　delirium；　in　which　something　peculiar　was　taking　place。　In　that　place　the　edifice　was　still　rising；　unshattered；　something　was　still　stretching　out；　the　candle　was　still　burning；　with　a　red　ring　round　it；　the　same　shirt…sphinx　still　lay　by　the　door。　But　beside　all　this；　something　creaked；　there　was　a　whiff　of　fresh　air；　and　a　new　white　sphinx　appeared　standing　before　the　doorway。　And　that　sphinx　had　the　white　face　and　shining　eyes　of　that　very　Natasha　he　had　been　dreaming　of　just　now。
“Oh；　how　wearisome　this　everlasting　delirium　is！”　thought　Prince　Andrey；　trying　to　dispel　that　face　from　his　vision。　But　that　face　stood　before　him　with　the　face　of　reality；　and　that　face　was　coming　closer。　Prince　Andrey　tried　to　go　back　to　the　world　of　pure　thought；　but　he　could　not；　and　he　was　drawn　back　into　the　realm　of　delirium。　The　soft　murmuring　voice　kept　up　its　rhythmic　whisper；　something　was　oppressing　him；　and　rising　up；　and　the　strange　face　stood　before　him。　Prince　Andrey　rallied　all　his　forces　to　regain　his　senses；　he　stirred　a　little；　and　suddenly　there　was　a　ringing　in　his　ears　and　a　dimness　before　his　eyes；　and　like　a　man　sinking　under　water；　he　lost　consciousness。
When　he　came　to　himself；　Natasha；　the　very　living　Natasha；　whom　of　all　people　in　the　world　he　most　longed　to　love　with　that　new；　pure；　divine　love　that　had　now　been　revealed　to　him；　was　on　her　knees　before　him。　He　knew　that　it　was　the　real；　living　Natasha；　and　did　not　wonder；　but　quietly　rejoiced。　Natasha；　on　her　knees；　in　terror；　but　without　moving　（she　could　not　have　moved）；　gazed　at　him；　restraining　her　sobs。　Her　face　was　white　and　rigid。　There　was　only　a　sort　of　quiver　in　the　lower　part　of　it。
Prince　Andrey　drew　a　sigh　of　relief；　smiled；　and　held　out　his　hand。
“You？”　he　said。　“What　happiness！”
With　a　swift　but　circumspect　movement；　Natasha　came　nearer；　still　kneeling；　and　carefully　taking　his　hand　she　bent　her　face　over　it　and　began　kissing　it；　softly　touching　it　with　her　lips。
“Forgive　me！”　she　said　in　a　whisper；　lifting　her　head　and　glancing　at　him。　“Forgive　me！”
“I　love　you；”　said　Prince　Andrey。
“Forgive　…”
“Forgive　what？”　asked　Prince　Andrey。
“Forgive　me　for　what　I　di　…　id；”　Natasha　murmured　in　a　hardly　audible；　broken　whisper；　and　again　and　again　she　softly　put　her　lips　to　his　hand。
“I　love　thee　more；　better　than　before；”　said　Prince　Andrey；　lifting　her　face　with　his　hand　so　that　he　could　look　into　her　eyes。
Those　eyes；　swimming　with　happy　tears；　gazed　at　him　with　timid　commiseration　and　joyful　love。　Natasha’s　thin；　pale　face；　with　its　swollen　lips；　was　more　than　ugly—it　looked　terrible。　But　Prince　Andrey　did　not　see　her　face；　he　saw　the　shining　eyes；　which　were　beautiful。　They　heard　talk　behind　them。
Pyotr；　the　valet；　by　now　wide　awake；　had　waked　up　the　doctor。　Timohin；　who　had　not　slept　all　night　for　the　pain　in　his　leg；　had　been　long　watching　all　that　was　happening；　and　huddled　up　on　his　bench；　carefully　wrapping　his　bare　person　up　in　the　sheet。
“Why；　what’s　this？”　said　the　doctor；　getting　up　from　his　bed　on　the　floor。　“Kindly　retire；　madame。”
At　that　moment　there　was　a　knock　at　the　door；　a　maid　had　been　sent　by　the　countess　in　search　of　her　daughter。
Like　a　sleep…walker　awakened　in　the　midst　of　her　trance；　Natasha　walked　out　of　the　room；　and　getting　back　to　her　hut；　sank　sobbing　on　her　bed。
From　that　day　at　all　the　halts　and　resting…places　on　the　remainder　of　the　Rostovs’　journey；　Natasha　never　left　Bolkonsky’s　side；　and　the　doctor　was　forced　to　admit　that　he　had　not　expected　from　a　young　girl　so　much　fortitude；　nor　skill　in　nursing　a　wounded　man。
Terrible　as　it　was　to　the　countess　to　think　that　Prince　Andrey　might　（and　very　probably；　too；　from　what　the　doctor　said）　die　on　the　road　in　her　daughter’s　arms；　she　could　not　resist　Natasha。　Although　with　the　renewal　of　affectionate　relations　between　Prince　Andrey　and　Natasha　the　idea　did　occur　that　in　case　he　recovered　their　old