战争与和平(上)-第138章

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Natasha　had；　so　every　one　told　her；　grown　prettier　in　the　country；　and　that　evening；　owing　to　her　excited　condition；　she　was　particularly　pretty。　She　made　a　striking　impression　of　fulness　of　life　and　beauty；　together　with　indifference　to　everything　around　her。　Her　black　eyes　gazed　at　the　crowd；　seeking　out　no　one；　while　her　slender　arm；　bare　to　above　the　elbow；　leaned　on　the　velvet　edge　of　the　box；　and　her　hand；　holding　the　programme；　clasped　and　unclasped　in　time　to　the　music　with　obvious　unconsciousness。
“Look；　there’s　Alenina；”　said　Sonya；　“with　her　mother；　isn’t　it？”
“Heavens；　Mihail　Kirillitch　is　really　stouter　than　ever；”　said　the　old　count。
“Look！　our　Anna　Mihalovna　in　such　a　cap！”
“The　Karagins；　Julie；　and　Boris　with　them。　One　can　see　at　once　they　are　engaged。”
“Drubetskoy　has　made　his　offer！　To　be　sure；　I　heard　so　to…day；”　said　Shinshin；　coming　into　the　Rostovs’　box。
Natasha　looked　in　the　direction　her　father　was　looking　in　and　saw　Julie　with　diamonds　on　her　thick；　red　neck　（Natasha　knew　it　was　powdered）；　sitting　with　a　blissful　face　beside　her　mother。
Behind　them　could　be　seen　the　handsome；　well…brushed　head　of　Boris；　with　a　smile　inclining　his　ear　towards　Julie’s　mouth。　He　looked　from　under　his　brows　at　the　Rostovs；　and　said　something；　smiling；　to　his　betrothed。
“They　are　talking　about　us；　about　me　and　himself！”　thought　Natasha。　“And　he　is；　most　likely；　soothing　his　fiancée’s　jealousy　of　me；　they　needn’t　worry　themselves！　If　only　they　knew　how　little　they　matter　to　me；　any　one　of　them。”
Behind　the　engaged　couple　sat　Anna　Mihalovna　in　a　green　cap；　with　a　face　happy；　in　honour　of　the　festive　occasion；　and　devoutly　resigned　to　the　will　of　God。　Their　box　was　full　of　that　atmosphere　of　an　engaged　couple—which　Natasha　knew　so　well　and　liked　so　much。　She　turned　away；　and　suddenly　all　that　had　been　humiliating　in　her　morning　visit　came　back　to　her　mind。
“What　right　has　he　not　to　want　to　receive　me　into　his　family？　Ah；　better　not　think　about　it；　not　think　till　he　comes　back！”　she　said　to　herself；　and　began　to　look　about　at　the　faces；　known　and　unknown；　in　the　stalls。
In　the　front　of　the　stalls；　in　the　very　centre；　leaning　back　against　the　rail　stood　Dolohov；　in　a　Persian　dress；　with　his　huge　shock　of　curly　hair　combed　upwards。　He　stood　in　the　most　conspicuous　place　in　the　theatre；　well　aware　that　he　was　attracting　the　attention　of　the　whole　audience；　and　as　much　at　his　ease　as　though　he　had　been　alone　in　his　room。　The　most　brilliant　young　men　in　Moscow　were　all　thronging　about　him；　and　he　was　obviously　the　leading　figure　among　them。
Count　Ilya　Andreitch；　laughing；　nudged　the　blushing　Sonya；　pointing　out　her　former　admirer。
“Did　you　recognise　him？”　he　asked。　“And　where　has　he　dropped　from？”　said　he；　turning　to　Shinshin。　“I　thought　he　had　disappeared　somewhere？”
“He　did　disappear；”　answered　Shinshin。　“He　was　in　the　Caucasus；　and　he　ran　away　from　there；　and　they　say　he　has　been　acting　as　minister　to　some　reigning　prince　in　Persia；　and　there　killed　the　Shah’s　brother。　Well；　all　the　Moscow　ladies　are　wild　about　him！　‘Dolohov　the　Persian；’　that’s　what　does　it！　Nowadays　there’s　nothing　can　be　done　without　Dolohov；　they　do　homage　to　him；　invite　you　to　meet　him；　as　if　he　were　a　sturgeon；”　said　Shinshin。　“Dolohov　and　Anatole　Kuragin　have　taken　all　the　ladies’　hearts　by　storm。”
A　tall；　handsome　woman　with　a　mass　of　hair　and　very　naked；　plump；　white　arms　and　shoulders；　and　a　double　row　of　big　pearls　round　her　throat；　walked　into　the　next　box；　and　was　a　long　while　settling　into　her　place　and　rustling　her　thick　silk　gown。
Natasha　unconsciously　examined　that　neck　and　the　shoulders；　the　pearls；　the　coiffure　of　this　lady；　and　admired　the　beauty　of　the　shoulders　and　the　pearls。　While　Natasha　was　scrutinising　her　a　second　time；　the　lady　looked　round；　and　meeting　the　eyes　of　Count　Ilya　Andreitch；　she　nodded　and　smiled　to　him。　It　was　the　Countess　Bezuhov；　Pierre’s　wife。　The　count；　who　knew　every　one　in　society；　bent　over　and　entered　into　conversation　with　her。
“Have　you　been　here　long？”　he　began。　“I’m　coming；　I’m　coming　to　kiss　your　hand。　I　have　come　to　town　on　business　and　brought　my　girls　with　me。　They　say　Semyonovna’s　acting　is　superb；”　the　count　went　on。　“Count　Pyotr　Kirillovitch　never　forgot　us。　Is　he　here？”
“Yes；　he　meant　to　come；”　said　Ellen；　looking　intently　at　Natasha。
Count　Ilya　Andreitch　sat　down　again　in　his　place。
“Handsome；　isn’t　she？”　he　whispered　to　Natasha。
“Exquisite！”　said　Natasha。　“One　might　well　fall　in　love　with　her！”
At　that　moment　they　heard　the　last　chords　of　the　overture；　and　the　tapping　of　the　conductor’s　stick。　Late　comers　hurried　to　their　seats　in　the　stalls；　and　the　curtain　rose。
As　soon　as　the　curtain　rose；　a　hush　fell　on　the　boxes　and　stalls；　and　all　the　men；　old　and　young；　in　their　frock　coats　or　uniforms；　all　the　women　with　precious　stones　on　their　bare　flesh　concentrated　all　their　attention　with　eager　curiosity　on　the　stage。　Natasha　too　began　to　look　at　it。


Chapter　9
THE　STAGE　consisted　of　a　boarded　floor　in　the　middle；　with　painted　cardboard　representing　trees　at　the　sides；　and　linen　stretched　over　the　boards　at　the　back。　In　the　middle　of　the　stage　there　were　sitting　maidens　in　red　bodices　and　white　skirts。　An　excessively　stout　woman　in　a　white　silk　dress　was　sitting　apart　on　a　low　bench　with　green　cardboard　fixed　on　the　back　of　it。　They　were　all　singing　something。　When　they　had　finished　their　song；　the　woman　in　white　moved　towards　the　prompter’s　box；　and　a　man；　with　his　stout　legs　encased　in　silk　tights；　with　a　plume　and　a　dagger；　went　up　to　her　and　began　singing　and　waving　his　arms。
The　man　in　the　tights　sang　alone；　then　she　sang　alone。　The　both　paused；　while　the　music　played；　and　the　man　fumbled　with　the　hand　of　the　woman　in　white；　obviously　waiting　for　the　bar　at　which　he　was　to　begin　singing　with　her。　They　sang　a　duet；　and　every　one　in　the　theatre　began　clapping　and　shouting；　while　the　man　and　woman　on　the　stage；　supposed　to　represent　lovers；　began　bowing　with　smiles　and　gesticulations。
After　the　country；　and　in　her　serious　mood；　Natasha　felt　it　all　grotesque　and　extraordinary。　She　could　not　follow　the　opera；　she　could　not　even　listen　to　the　music：　she　saw　nothing　but　painted　cardboard　and　strangely　dressed…up　men　and　women；　talking；　singing；　and　moving　strangely　about　in　the　bright　light。　She　knew　what　it　all　was　meant　to　represent；　but　it　was　all　so　grotesquely　false　and　unnatural　that　she　felt　alternately　ashamed　and　amused　at　the　actors。　She　looked　about　her　at　the　faces　of　the　spectators；　seeking　in　them　signs　of　the　same　irony　and　bewilderment　that　she　was　feeling　herself。　But　all　the　faces　were　watching　what　was　passing　on　the　stage；　and　expressed　nothing　but　an　affected—so　Natasha　thought—rapture。　“I　suppose　it　is　meant　to　be　like　this！”　thought　Natasha。　She　looked　alternately　at　the　rows　of　pomaded　masculine　heads　in　the　stalls；　and　at　the　naked　women　in　the　boxes；　especially　at　her　next　neighbour　Ellen；　who；　quite　undressed；　sat　gazing　intently；　with　a　quiet　and　serene　smile。　at　the　stage；　and　basking　in　the　bright　light　that　flooded　the　theatre；　and　the　warm　air；　heated　by　the　crowd。　Natasha　began　gradually　to　pass　into　a　state　of　intoxication　she　had　not　experienced　for　a　long　while。　She　lost　all　sense　of　what　she　was　and　where　she　was　and　what　was　going　on　before　her　eyes。　She　gazed　and　dreamed；　and　the　strangest　ideas　flashed　unexpectedly　and　disconnectedly　into　her　mind。　At　one　moment　the　idea　occurred　to　her　to　leap　over　the　footlights　and　sing　that　air　the　actress　was　singing；　then　she　felt　inclined　to　hook　her　fan　into　an　old　gentleman　sitting　near　her；　or　to　bend　over　to　Ellen　and　tickle　her。
At　a　moment　when　there　was　a　lull　on　the　stage　before　the　beginning　of　a　song；　the　door　opening　to　the　stalls　creaked　on　the　side　nearest　the　Rostovs’　box；　and　there　was　the　sound　of　a　man’s　footsteps。　“Here　he　is；　Kuragin！”　whispered　Shinshin。　Countess　Bezuhov　turned　smiling　to　the　new…comer。　Natasha　looked　in　the　direction　of　the　Countess　Bezuhov’s　eyes；　and　saw　an　exceedingly　handsome　adjutant　coming　towards　their　box　with　a　confident；　but　yet　courteous；　bearing。　It　was　Anatole　Kuragin；　whom　she　had　seen　long　before；　and　noticed　at　the　Petersburg　ball。　He　was　now　wearing　an　adjutant’s　uniform；　with　one　epaulette　and　a　shoulder　knot。　He　walked　with　a　jaunty　strut；　which　would　have　been　ridiculous　if　he　had　not　been　so　handsome；　and　if　his　good…looking　face　had　not　expressed　such　simple…hearted　satisfaction　and　good　spirits。　Although　the　performance　was　going　on　he　walked　lightly；　without　haste；　along　the　carpeted　corridor；　holding　his　scented；　handsome　head　high；　and　accompanied　by　a　slight　clank　of　spurs　and　sword。　Glancing　at　Natasha；　he　went　up　to　his　sister；　laid　his　hand　in　a　close…fitting　glove　on　the　edge　of　her　box；　nodded　his　head　at　her；　and；　bending　down；　asked　her　a　question；　with　a　motion　towards　Natasha。
“Very；　very　charming！”　he　said；　obviously　speaking　of　Natasha。　She　did　not　exactly　hear　the　words；　but　divined　them　from　the　movement　of　his　lips。　Then　he　went　on　to　the　front　row　and　sat　down　beside　Dolohov；　giving　a　friendly　and　careless　nudge　with　his　elbow　to　the　man　whom　other　people　treated　with　such　punctilio。　With　a　merry　wink；　he　smiled　at　him；　and　leaned　with　his　foot　against　the　footlights。
“How　like　the　brother　is　to　his　sister！”　said　the　count。　“And　how　handsome　they　both　are！”
Shinshin　began　telling　the　count　in　an　undertone　some　story　of　an　intrigue　of　Kuragin’s　in　Moscow；　to　which　Natasha　listened；　simply　because　he　had　said　of　her　“very　charming。”
The　first　act　was　over；　every　one　stood　up　in　the　stalls；　changed　places；　and　began　going　out　and　coming　in。
Boris　came　to　the　Rostovs’　box；　received　their　congratulations　very　simply；　and　lifting　his　eyebrows　with　an　absent…minded　smile；　gave　Natasha　and　Sonya　his　fiancée’s　message；　begging　them　to　come　to　her　wedding；　and　went　away。　Natasha；　with　a　gay　and　coquettish　smile；　talked　to　him　and　congratulated　him　on　his　approaching　marriage—the　very　Boris　she　had　once　been　in　love　with。　In　the　condition　of　emotional　intoxication　in　which　she　found　herself　everything　seemed　simple　and　natural。
Ellen　sat　in　her　nakedness　close　by　her；　and　smiled　on　all　alike；　and　just　such　a　smile　Natasha　bestowed　on　Boris。
Ellen’s　box　was　filled　and　surrounded　on　the　side　of　the　stalls　by　the　most　distinguished　and　intellectual　men；　who　seemed　vying　with　one　another　in　their　desire　to　show　every　one　that　they　knew　her。
All　throughout　that　entr’acte　Kuragin　stood　with　Dolohov　in　front　of　the　footlights　staring　at　the　Rostovs’　box。　Natasha　knew　he　was　talking　about　her；　and　that　afforded　her　satisfaction。　She　even　turned　so　that　he　could　see　her　profile　from　what　she　believed　to　be　the　most　becoming　angle。　Before　the　beginning　of　the　second　act　she　observed　in　the　stalls　the　figure　of　Pierre；　whom　the　Rostovs　had　not　seen　since　their　arrival。　His　face　looked　sad；　and　he　had　grown　stouter　since　Natasha　had　seen　him　last。　He　walked　up　to　the　front　rows；　not　noticing　any　one。　Anatole　went　up　to　him；　and　began　saying　something　to　him；　with　a　look　and　a　gesture　towards　the　Rostovs’　box。　Pierre　looked　pleased　at　seeing　Natasha；　and　walked　h