战争与和平(上)-第49章

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gnised　by　other　people；　and　this　idea　at　once　alarmed　him；　as　though　an　obligation　were　being　laid　upon　him　which　he　could　not　fulfil；　and　pleased　him　as　an　amusing　supposition。
Anna　Pavlovna’s　evening　party　was　like　her　first　one；　only　the　novel　attraction　which　she　had　provided　for　her　guests　was　not　on　this　occasion　Mortemart；　but　a　diplomat；　who　had　just　arrived　from　Berlin；　bringing　the　latest　details　of　the　Emperor　Alexander’s　stay　at　Potsdam；　and　of　the　inviolable　alliance　the　two　exalted　friends　had　sworn　together；　to　maintain　the　true　cause　against　the　enemy　of　the　human　race。　Pierre　was　welcomed　by　Anna　Pavlovna　with　a　shade　of　melancholy；　bearing　unmistakable　reference　to　the　recent　loss　sustained　by　the　young　man　in　the　death　of　Count　Bezuhov　（every　one　felt　bound　to　be　continually　assuring　Pierre　that　he　was　greatly　afflicted　at　the　death　of　his　father；　whom　he　had　hardly　known）。　Her　melancholy　was　of　precisely　the　same　kind　as　that　more　exalted　melancholy　she　always　displayed　at　any　allusion　to　Her　Most　August　Majesty　the　Empress　Marya　Fyodorovna。　Pierre　felt　flattered　by　it。　Anna　Pavlovna　had　arranged　the　groups　in　her　drawing…room　with　her　usual　skill。　The　larger　group；　in　which　were　Prince　Vassily　and　some　generals；　had　the　benefit　of　the　diplomat。　Another　group　gathered　about　the　tea…table。　Pierre　would　have　liked　to　join　the　first　group；　but　Anna　Pavlovna；　who　was　in　the　nervous　excitement　of　a　general　on　the　battlefield；　that　mental　condition　in　which　numbers　of　brilliant　new　ideas　occur　to　one　that　one　has　hardly　time　to　put　into　execution—Anna　Pavlovna；　on　seeing　Pierre；　detained　him　with　a　finger　on　his　coat　sleeve：　“Wait；　I　have　designs　on　you　for　this　evening。”
She　looked　round　at　Ellen　and　smiled　at　her。
“My　dear　Hélène；　you　must　show　charity　to　my　poor　aunt；　who　has　an　adoration　for　you。　Go　and　keep　her　company　for　ten　minutes。　And　that　you　may　not　find　it　too　tiresome；　here’s　our　dear　count；　who　certainly　won’t　refuse　to　follow　you。”
The　beauty　moved　away　towards　the　old　aunt；　but　Anna　Pavlovna　still　detained　Pierre　at　her　side；　with　the　air　of　having　still　some　last　and　essential　arrangement　to　make　with　him。
“She　is　exquisite；　isn’t　she？”　she　said　to　Pierre；　indicating　the　majestic　beauty　swimming　away　from　them。　“And　how　she　carries　herself！　For　such　a　young　girl；　what　tact；　what　a　finished　perfection　of　manner。　It　comes　from　the　heart。　Happy　will　be　the　man　who　wins　her。　The　most　unworldly　of　men　would　take　a　brilliant　place　in　society　as　her　husband。　That’s　true；　isn’t　it？　I　only　wanted　to　know　your　opinion；”　and　Anna　Pavlovna　let　Pierre　go。
Pierre　was　perfectly　sincere　in　giving　an　affirmative　answer　to　her　question　about　Ellen’s　perfection　of　manner。　If　ever　he　thought　of　Ellen；　it　was　either　of　her　beauty　that　he　thought；　or　of　her　extraordinary　capacity　for　serene；　dignified　silence　in　society。
The　old　aunt　received　the　two　young　people　in　her　corner；　but　appeared　anxious　to　conceal　her　adoration　of　Ellen；　and　rather　to　show　her　fear　of　Anna　Pavlovna。　She　glanced　at　her　niece；　as　though　to　inquire　what　she　was　to　do　with　them。　Anna　Pavlovna　again　laid　a　finger　on　Pierre’s　sleeve　and　said：　“I　hope　you　will　never　say　in　future　that　people　are　bored　at　my　house；”　and　glanced　at　Ellen。　Ellen　smiled　with　an　air；　which　seemed　to　say　that　she　did　not　admit　the　possibility　of　any　one’s　seeing　her　without　being　enchanted。　The　old　aunt　coughed；　swallowed　the　phlegm；　and　said　in　French　that　she　was　very　glad　to　see　Ellen；　then　she　addressed　Pierre　with　the　same　greeting　and　the　same　grimace。　In　the　middle　of　a　halting　and　tedious　conversation；　Ellen　looked　round　at　Pierre　and　smiled　at　him　with　the　bright；　beautiful　smile　with　which　she　smiled　at　every　one。　Pierre　was　so　used　to　this　smile；　it　meant　so　little　to　him；　that　he　did　not　even　notice　it。　The　aunt　was　speaking　at　that　moment　of　a　collection　of　snuff…boxes　belonging　to　Pierre’s　father；　Count　Bezuhov；　and　she　showed　them　her　snuff…box。　Princess　Ellen　asked　to　look　at　the　portrait　of　the　aunt’s　husband；　which　was　on　the　snuff…box。
“It’s　probably　the　work　of　Vines；”　said　Pierre；　mentioning　a　celebrated　miniature　painter。　He　bent　over　the　table　to　take　the　snuff…box；　listening　all　the　while　to　the　conversation　going　on　in　the　larger　group。　He　got　up　to　move　towards　it；　but　the　aunt　handed　him　the　snuff…box；　passing　it　across　Ellen；　behind　her　back。　Ellen　bent　forward　to　make　room；　and　looked　round　smiling。　She　was；　as　always　in　the　evening；　wearing　a　dress　cut　in　the　fashion　of　the　day；　very　low　in　the　neck　both　in　front　and　behind。　Her　bust；　which　had　always　to　Pierre　looked　like　marble；　was　so　close　to　his　short…sighted　eyes　that　he　could　discern　all　the　living　charm　of　her　neck　and　shoulders；　and　so　near　his　lips　that　he　need　scarcely　have　stooped　to　kiss　it。　He　felt　the　warmth　of　her　body；　the　fragrance　of　scent；　and　heard　the　creaking　of　her　corset　as　she　moved。　He　saw　not　her　marble　beauty　making　up　one　whole　with　her　gown；　he　saw　and　felt　all　the　charm　of　her　body；　which　was　only　veiled　by　her　clothes。　And　having　once　seen　this；　he　could　not　see　it　otherwise；　just　as　we　cannot　return　to　an　illusion　that　has　been　explained。
“So　you　have　never　noticed　till　now　that　I　am　lovely？”　Ellen　seemed　to　be　saying。　“You　haven’t　noticed　that　I　am　a　woman？　Yes；　I　am　a　woman；　who　might　belong　to　any　one—to　you；　too；”　her　eyes　said。　And　at　that　moment　Pierre　felt　that　Ellen　not　only　could；　but　would　become　his　wife；　that　it　must　be　so。
He　knew　it　at　that　moment　as　surely　as　he　would　have　known　it；　standing　under　the　wedding　crown　beside　her。　How　would　it　be？　and　when？　He　knew　not；　knew　not　even　if　it　would　be　a　good　thing　（he　had　a　feeling；　indeed；　that　for　some　reason　it　would　not）；　but　he　knew　it　would　be　so。
Pierre　dropped　his　eyes；　raised　them　again；　and　tried　once　more　to　see　her　as　a　distant　beauty；　far　removed　from　him；　as　he　had　seen　her　every　day　before。　But　he　could　not　do　this。　He　could　not；　just　as　a　man　who　has　been　staring　in　a　fog　at　a　blade　of　tall　steppe　grass　and　taking　it　for　a　tree　cannot　see　a　tree　in　it　again；　after　he　has　once　recognised　it　as　a　blade　of　grass。　She　was　terribly　close　to　him。　Already　she　had　power　over　him。　And　between　him　and　her　there　existed　no　barriers　of　any　kind；　but　the　barrier　of　his　own　will。
“Very　good；　I　will　leave　you　in　your　little　corner。　I　see　you　are　very　comfortable　there；”　said　Anna　Pavlovna’s　voice。　And　Pierre；　trying　panic…stricken　to　think　whether　he　had　done　anything　reprehensible；　looked　about　him；　crimsoning。　It　seemed　to　him　as　though　every　one　knew；　as　well　as　he　did；　what　was　passing　in　him。　A　little　later；　when　he　went　up　to　the　bigger　group；　Anna　Pavlovna　said　to　him：
“I　am　told　you　are　making　improvements　in　your　Petersburg　house。”　（This　was　the　fact：　the　architect　had　told　him　it　was　necessary；　and　Pierre；　without　knowing　with　what　object；　was　having　his　immense　house　in　Petersburg　redecorated。）　“That　is　all　very　well；　but　do　not　move　from　Prince　Vassily’s。　It　is　a　good　thing　to　have　such　a　friend　as　the　prince；”　she　said；　smiling　to　Prince　Vassily。　“I　know　something　about　that。　Don’t　I？　And　you　are　so　young。　You　need　advice。　You　mustn’t　be　angry　with　me　for　making　use　of　an　old　woman’s　privileges。”　She　paused；　as　women　always　do　pause；　in　anticipation　of　something；　after　speaking　of　their　age。　“If　you　marry；　it’s　a　different　matter。”　And　she　united　them　in　one　glance。　Pierre　did　not　look　at　Ellen；　nor　she　at　him。　But　she　was　still　as　terribly　close　to　him。
He　muttered　something　and　blushed。
After　Pierre　had　gone　home；　it　was　a　long　while　before　he　could　get　to　sleep；　he　kept　pondering　on　what　was　happening　to　him。　What　was　happening？　Nothing。　Simply　he　had　grasped　the　fact　that　a　woman；　whom　he　had　known　as　a　child；　of　whom　he　had　said；　without　giving　her　a　thought；　“Yes；　she’s　nice…looking；”　when　he　had　been　told　she　was　a　beauty；　he　had　grasped　the　fact　that　that　woman　might　belong　to　him。　“But　she’s　stupid；　I　used　to　say　myself　that　she　was　stupid；”　he　thought。　“There　is　something　nasty　in　the　feeling　she　excites　in　me；　something　not　legitimate。　I　have　been　told　that　her　brother；　Anatole；　was　in　love　with　her；　and　she　in　love　with　him；　that　there　was　a　regular　scandal；　and　that’s　why　Anatole　was　sent　away。　Her　brother　is　Ippolit。…Her　father　is　Prince　Vassily。…That’s　bad；”　he　mused；　and　at　the　very　moment　that　he　was　reflecting　thus　（the　reflections　were　not　followed　out　to　the　end）　he　caught　himself　smiling；　and　became　conscious　that　another　series　of　reflections　had　risen　to　the　surface　across　the　first；　that　he　was　at　the　same　time　meditating　on　her　worthlessness；　and　dreaming　of　how　she　would　be　his　wife；　how　she　might　love　him；　how　she　might　become　quite　different；　and　how　all　he　had　thought　and　heard　about　her　might　be　untrue。　And　again　he　saw　her；　not　as　the　daughter　of　Prince　Vassily；　but　saw　her　whole　body；　only　veiled　by　her　grey　gown。　“But；　no；　why　didn’t　that　idea　ever　occur　to　me　before？”　And　again　he　told　himself　that　it　was　impossible；　that　there　would　be　something　nasty；　unnatural；　as　it　seemed　to　him；　and　dishonourable　in　this　marriage。　He　recalled　her　past　words　and　looks；　and　the　words　and　looks　of　people；　who　had　seen　them　together。　He　remembered　the　words　and　looks　of　Anna　Pavlovna；　when　she　had　spoken　about　his　house；　he　recollected　thousands　of　such　hints　from　Prince　Vassily　and　other　people；　and　he　was　overwhelmed　with　terror　that　he　might　have　bound　himself　in　some　way　to　do　a　thing　obviously　wrong；　and　not　what　he　ought　to　do。　But　at　the　very　time　that　he　was　expressing　this　to　himself；　in　another　part　of　his　mind　her　image　floated　to　the　surface　in　all　its　womanly　beauty。


Chapter　2
IN　THE　NOVEMBER　of　1805　Prince　Vassily　was　obliged　to　go　on　a　tour　of　inspection　through　four　provinces。　He　had　secured　this　appointment　for　himself；　in　order　to　be　able　at　the　same　time　to　visit　his　estates；　which　were　in　a　neglected　state。　He　intended　to　pick　up　his　son；　Anatole；　on　the　way　（where　his　regiment　was　stationed）；　and　to　pay　a　visit　to　Prince　Nikolay　Andreivitch　Bolkonsky；　with　a　view　to　marrying　his　son　to　the　rich　old　man’s　daughter。　But　before　going　away　and　entering　on　these　new　affairs；　Prince　Vassily　wanted　to　settle　matters　with　Pierre；　who　had；　it　was　true；　of　late　spent　whole　days　at　home；　that　is；　at　Prince　Vassily’s；　where　he　was　staying；　and　was　as　absurd；　as　agitated；　and　as　stupid　in　Ellen’s　presence；　as　a　young　man　in　love　should　be；　but　still　made　no　offer。
“This　is　all　very　fine；　but　the　thing　must　come　to　a　conclusion；”　Prince　Vassily　said　to　himself　one　morning；　with　a　melancholy　sigh；　recognising　that　Pierre；　who　was　so　greatly　indebted　to　him　（But　there！　God　bless　the　fellow！）；　was　not　behaving　quite　nicely　to　him　in　the　matter。　“Youth…frivolity…well；　God　be　with　him；”　thought　Prince　Vassily；　enjoying　the　sense　of　his　own　goodness　of　heart；　“but　the　thing　must　come　to　a　conclusion。　The　day　after　to…morrow　is　Ellen’s　nameday；　I’ll　invite　some　people；　and　if　he　doesn’t　understand　what　he’s　to　do；　then　it　will　be　my　affair　to　see　to　it。　Yes；　my　affair。　I’m　her　father。”
Six　weeks　after　Anna　Pavlovna’s　party；　and　the　sleepless　and　agitated　night　after　it；　in　which　Pi