战争与和平(上)-第114章

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ety—was　wanting；　and　they　did　not　even　know　of　its　existence。
After　dinner　Speransky’s　daughter　and　her　governess　rose　from　the　table。　Speransky　patted　his　daughter　with　his　white　hand；　and　kissed　her。　And　that　gesture；　too；　seemed　to　Prince　Andrey　unnatural。
The　men　sat　on　over　their　port；　after　the　English　fashion。　A　conversation　sprang　up　about　Napoleon’s　doings　in　Spain；　of　which　all　were　united　in　approving；　while　Prince　Andrey　attacked　them。　But　in　the　middle　of　this　discussion　Speransky；　obviously　wishing　to　change　the　subject；　began　with　a　smile　telling　an　anecdote；　which　had　no　connection　with　it。　For　several　instants　every　one　was　silent。
As　they　sat　at　table；　Speransky；　corking　up　a　bottle　of　wine　and　saying；　“Nowadays　good　wine　doesn’t　go　a…begging！”　gave　it　to　the　servant　and　got　up。　All　rose；　and　talking　just　as　noisily；　went　into　the　drawing…room。　Speransky　was　handed　two　envelopes　brought　by　a　special　courier。　He　took　them　and　went　into　his　study。　As　soon　as　he　had　gone；　there　was　a　lull　in　the　general　gaiety；　and　the　guests　began　conversing　sensibly　in　low　tones　together。
“Well；　now　for　the　recitation！”　said　Speransky；　coming　out　of　his　study。　“A　marvellous　talent！”　he　said　to　Prince　Andrey。　Magnitsky　at　once　threw　himself　into　an　attitude；　and　began　to　recite　comic　French　verses；　a　skit　he　had　composed　on　various　well…known　persons。　Several　times　he　was　interrupted　by　applause。　At　the　conclusion　of　the　recitation　Prince　Andrey　went　up　to　Speransky　to　say　good…bye。
“Why　so　early？”　said　Speransky。
“I　promised　to　be　at　a　soirée。…”
They　said　no　more。　Prince　Andrey　looked　at　those　mirror…like；　impenetrable　eyes；　so　close　to　his；　and　he　felt　it　ludicrous　that　he　should　have　expected　anything　from　Speransky；　and　from　all　his　own　work　connected　with　him；　and　marvelled　how　he　could　have　ascribed　any　value　to　what　Speransky　was　doing。　That　punctual；　mirthless　laugh　was　ringing　in　Prince　Andrey’s　ears　long　after　he　had　left　Speransky’s。
On　reaching　home　Prince　Andrey　began　looking　at　his　life　in　Peters…burg　during　the　last　four　months；　as　though　it　were　something　new。　He　thought　of　the　efforts　he　had　made；　and　the　people　he　had　tried　to　see；　and　the　history　of　his　project　of　army　reform；　which　had　been　accepted　for　consideration；　and　had　been　shelved　because　another　scheme；　a　very　poor　one；　had　already　been　worked　out　and　presented　to　the　Tsar。　He　thought　of　the　sittings　of　the　committee；　of　which　Berg　was　a　member。　He　thought　of　the　conscientious　and　prolonged　deliberations　that　took　place　at　those　sittings　on　every　point　relating　to　the　formalities　of　the　sittings　themselves；　and　the　studious　brevity　with　which　anything　relating　to　the　reality　of　their　duties　was　touched　on　in　passing。　He　thought　of　his　work　on　the　legislative　reforms；　of　his　careful　translation　of　the　Roman　and　French　codes　into　Russian；　and　he　felt　ashamed　of　himself。　Then　he　vividly　imagined　Bogutcharovo；　his　pursuits　in　the　country；　his　expedition　to　Ryazan；　he　thought　of　his　peasants；　of　Dron　the　village　elder；　and　applying　the　section　on　Personal　Rights；　which　he　had　divided　into　paragraphs；　to　them；　he　marvelled　how　he　could　have　so　long　busied　himself　on　work　so　idle。


Chapter　19
THE　NEXT　DAY　Prince　Andrey　paid　calls　on　various　people　whom　he　had　not　visited　before；　and　among　them　on　the　Rostovs；　with　whom　he　had　renewed　his　acquaintance　at　the　ball。　Apart　from　considerations　of　politeness；　which　necessitated　a　call　on　the　Rostovs；　Prince　Andrey　wanted　to　see　at　home　that　original；　eager　girl；　who　had　left　such　a　pleasant　recollection　with　him。
Natasha　was　one　of　the　first　to　meet　him。　She　was　in　a　blue　everyday　dress；　in　which　she　struck　Prince　Andrey　as　looking　prettier　than　in　her　ball…dress。　She　and　all　the　family　received　Prince　Andrey　like　an　old　friend；　simply　and　cordially。　All　the　family；　which　Prince　Andrey　had　once　criticised　so　severely；　now　seemed　to　him　to　consist　of　excellent；　simple；　kindly　people。　The　hospitality　and　good…nature　of　the　old　count；　particularly　striking　and　attractive　in　Petersburg；　was　such　that　Prince　Andrey　could　not　refuse　to　stay　to　dinner。　“Yes；　these　are　good…natured；　capital　people；”　thought　Bolkonsky。　“Of　course　they　have　no　conception；　what　a　treasure　they　possess　in　Natasha；　but　they　are　good　people；　who　make　the　best　possible　background　for　the　strikingly　poetical　figure　of　that　charming　girl；　so　full　of　life！”
Prince　Andrey　was　conscious　in　Natasha　of　a　special　world；　utterly　remote　from　him；　brimful　of　joys　unknown　to　him；　that　strange　world；　which　even　in　the　avenue　at　Otradnoe；　and　on　that　moonlight　night　at　the　window　had　tantalised　him。　Now　that　no　longer　tantalised　him；　it　seemed　no　longer　an　alien　world；　but　he　himself　was　stepping　into　it；　and　finding　new　pleasures　in　it。
After　dinner　Natasha　went　to　the　clavichord；　at　Prince　Andrey’s　request；　and　began　singing。　Prince　Andrey　stood　at　the　window　talking　to　the　ladies；　and　listened　to　her。　In　the　middle　of　a　phrase；　Prince　Andrey　ceased　speaking；　and　felt　suddenly　a　lump　in　his　throat　from　tears；　the　possibility　of　which　he　had　not　dreamed　of　in　himself。　He　looked　at　Natasha　singing；　and　something　new　and　blissful　stirred　in　his　soul。　He　was　happy；　and　at　the　same　time　he　was　sad。　He　certainly　had　nothing　to　weep　about；　but　he　was　ready　to　weep。　For　what？　For　his　past　love？　For　the　little　princess？　For　his　lost　illusions？　…　For　his　hopes　for　the　future？　…　Yes；　and　no。　The　chief　thing　which　made　him　ready　to　weep　was　a　sudden；　vivid　sense　of　the　fearful　contrast　between　something　infinitely　great　and　illimitable　existing　in　him；　and　something　limited　and　material；　which　he　himself　was；　and　even　she　was。
This　contrast　made　his　heart　ache；　and　rejoiced　him　while　she　was　singing。
As　soon　as　Natasha　had　finished　singing；　she　went　up　to　him；　and　asked　how　he　liked　her　voice。　She　asked　this；　and　was　abashed　after　saying　it；　conscious　that　she　ought　not　to　have　asked　such　a　question。　He　smiled；　looking　at　her；　and　said　he　liked　her　singing；　as　he　liked　everything　she　did。
It　was　late　in　the　evening　when　Prince　Andrey　left　the　Rostovs’。　He　went　to　bed　from　the　habit　of　going　to　bed；　but　soon　saw　that　he　could　not　sleep。　He　lighted　a　candle　and　sat　up　in　bed；　then　got　up；　then　lay　down　again；　not　in　the　least　wearied　by　his　sleeplessness：　he　felt　a　new　joy　in　his　soul；　as　though　he　had　come　out　of　a　stuffy　room　into　the　open　daylight。　It　never　even　occurred　to　him　that　he　was　in　love　with　this　little　Rostov　girl。　He　was　not　thinking　about　her。　He　only　pictured　her　to　himself；　and　the　whole　of　life　rose　before　him　in　a　new　light　as　he　did　so。　“Why　do　I　struggle？　Why　am　I　troubled　in　this　narrow　cramped　routine；　when　life；　all　life；　with　all　its　joys；　lies　open　before　me？”　he　said　to　himself。　And　for　the　first　time　for　a　very　long　while；　he　began　making　happy　plans　for　the　future。　He　made　up　his　mind　that　he　ought　to　look　after　his　son’s　education；　to　find　a　tutor；　and　entrust　the　child　to　him。　Then　he　ought　to　retire　from　the　army；　and　go　abroad；　see　England；　Switzerland；　Italy。　“I　must　take　advantage　of　my　liberty；　while　I　feel　so　much　youth　and　strength　in　me；”　he　told　himself。　“Pierre　was　right　in　saying　that　one　must　believe　in　the　possibility　of　happiness；　in　order　to　be　happy；　and　now　I　do　believe　in　it。　Let　us　leave　the　dead　to　bury　the　dead；　but　while　one　is　living；　one　must　live　and　be　happy；”　he　thought。


Chapter　20
ONE　MORNING　Colonel　Adolphe　Berg；　whom　Pierre　knew　just　as　he　knew　every　one　in　Moscow　and　Petersburg；　called　upon　him。　He　was　wearing　a　brand…new　uniform；　and　had　his　powdered　locks　standing　up　over　his　forehead；　as　worn　by　the　Tsar　Alexander　Pavlovitch。
“I　have　just　been　calling　on　the　countess；　your　spouse；　and　to　my　misfortune；　my　request　could　not　be　granted。　I　hope　I　shall　be　more　fortunate　with　you；　count；”　he　said；　smiling。
“What　is　it　you　desire；　colonel？　I　am　at　your　disposal。”
“I　am　by　now；　quite　settled　in　my　new　quarters；”　Berg　informed　him　with　perfect　conviction　that　to　hear　this　fact　could　not　but　be　agreeable；　“and　so　I　was　desirous　of　giving　a　little　soirée　for　my　friends　and　my　spouse。”　（He　smiled　still　more　blandly。）　“I　meant　to　ask　the　countess　and　you　to　do　me　the　honour　to　come　to　us　for　a　cup　of　tea；　and　…　to　supper。”
Only　the　Countess　Elena　Vassilyevna；　who　considered　it　beneath　her　to　associate　with　nobodies　like　the　Bergs；　could　have　had　the　cruelty　to　refuse　such　an　invitation。　Berg　explained　so　clearly　why　he　wanted　to　gather　together　a　small　and　select　company　at　his　new　rooms；　and　why　it　would　be　agreeable　to　him　to　do　so；　and　why　he　would　grudge　spending　money　on　cards；　or　anything　else　harmful；　but　was　ready　for　the　sake　of　good　society　to　incur　expense；　that　Pierre　could　not　refuse；　and　promised　to　come。
“Only　not　late；　count；　if　I　may　venture　to　beg。　Ten　minutes　to　eight；　I　venture　to　beg。　We　will　make　up　a　party　for　boston。　Our　general　is　coming；　he　is　very　kind　to　me。　We　will　have　a　little　supper；　count；　so　I　shall　esteem　it　an　honour。”
Contrary　to　his　usual　habit　（he　was　almost　always　late）　Pierre　arrived　at　the　Bergs’　not　at　ten　minutes　to　eight；　but　at　a　quarter　to　eight。
The　Bergs　had　made　all　necessary　preparations　for　their　little　party；　and　were　quite　ready　to　receive　their　guests。
Berg　and　his　wife　were　sitting　in　a　new；　clean；　light　study；　furnished　with　little　busts　and　pictures　and　new　furniture。　Berg；　with　his　new　uniform　closely　buttoned　up；　sat　beside　his　wife；　and　was　explaining　to　her　that　one　always　could　and　ought　to　cultivate　the　acquaintance　of　people　above　one—for　only　then　is　there　anything　agreeable　in　acquaintances。　“You　pick　up　something；　you　can　put　in　a　word　for　something。　Look　at　me　now；　how　I　used　to　manage　in　the　lower　grades　（Berg　reckoned　his　life　not　by　years　but　by　promotions）。　“My　comrades　are　nothing　still；　while　I’m　a　lieutenant…colonel。　I　have　the　happiness　of　being　your　husband”　（he　got　up　and　kissed　Vera’s　hand；　but　on　the　way　turned　back　the　corner　of　the　rug；　which　was　rucked…up）。　“And　how　did　I　obtain　all　this？　Chiefly　by　knowing　how　to　select　my　acquaintances。　It　goes　without　saying；　of　course；　that　one　has　to　be　conscientious　and　punctual　in　the　discharge　of　one’s　duties。”
Berg　smiled　with　a　sense　of　his　own　superiority　over　a　mere　weak　woman；　and　paused；　reflecting　that　this　charming　wife　of　his　was；　after　all；　a　weak　woman；　who　could　never　attain　all　that　constituted　a　man’s　dignity；—ein　Mann　zu　sein。　Vera　smiled；　too；　at　the　same　time　with　a　sense　of　her　superiority　over　her　conscientious；　excellent　husband；　who　yet；　like　all　men；　according　to　Vera’s　ideas　of　them；　took　such　a　mistaken　view　of　life。　Berg；　judging　from　his　wife；　considered　all　women　weak　and　foolish。　Vera；　judging　from　her　husband　only；　and　generalising　from　her　observation　of　him；　supposed　that　all　men　ascribed　common…sense　to　none　but　themselves；　and　at　the　same　time　had　no　understanding　for　anything；　and　were　conceited　and　egoistic。
Berg　got　up；　and　cautiously　embracing　his　wife　so　as　not　to　crush　the　lace　bertha；　for　which　he　had　paid　a　round　sum；　he　kissed　her　just　on　her　lips。
“There’s　only　one　thing：　we　mustn’t　have　children　too　soon；”　he　said；　by　a　connection　of　ideas　of　which　he　was　himself　uncon